#✗ bone deep chill of despair (sub zero)

[sasorikigai]

Perks of being intimate with Hanzo and Kuai (I’m more of a bottom pic as I’m more tolerant of heat).

[sasorikigai]

@indulgentia

“they tried to kill each other” yes and? do you have a problem with true love

[sasorikigai]

SUB-ZERO RECOGNIZES SCORPION BY HIS FOOTSTEPS AND OF COURSE THEY BONING LOL. THEY ARE SO GAY FOR ANOTHER AND I AM SO GLAD I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE HEATHEN AND SHIP THIRSTY FOR SUBSCORP TO SEE THIS EVEN AFTER APRIL 2019 SHENANIGANS 

[sasorikigai]

Also slaps this on here in lieu of the Kafka quote; “You belong to me, I have made you mine. I have fought for you within myself, from the beginning, and always anew, and perhaps forever.” 

This, in its entirety, literally defines the premise of Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang’s complex relationship. It’s extremely complicated and intricate; they were meant to gravitate towards one another, not just with Quan Chi’s meddlesome obsession for Hanzo and obviously Lin Kuei defecting away from Earthrealm’s cause to enlist as evildoers under Shao Kahn’s influence. They are ouroboros, Yin and Yang, Fire and Ice, two halves of a whole, whatever metaphor out there that COMPLETES one another. 

I lack the singular word to describe their wholesome, sublime relationship at the moment, for it couldn’t ever be defined with JUST A WORD but that’s what they are. 

[sasorikigai]

@indulgentia​ submitted; 

↳ 〈 ⠀ꜰʀᴏᴍ Bᴏᴍ Dɪᴀ ᴇ Tᴀʟ ♡⠀〉

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @indulgentia || always accepting!

I AM FREAKIN DYING LMAOOOOOOOO BRU THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT AS ALWAYS <3

[sasorikigai]

FAR CRY 6 - CockFighting Minigame (Mortal Kombat Edition) @ 4K 60ᶠᵖˢ ✔

[sasorikigai]

I won’t deny it. This was one of the favorite moments in this chaotic mess of a movie. I just needed more of Scorpion and Kuai Liang putting aside their animosities towards one another and achieve redemption. I can’t help but become extremely salty and disappointed that they were the ones who dealt the fatal blow to Shinnok and yet….. got sidelined in the end without showing what happened to them (they just stand off to the side).

[sasorikigai]

🧑‍🤝‍🧑⠀»⠀🔥 + ❄️ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship || @indulgentia || selectively accepting!

👫 Hanzo Hasashi helps Kuai Liang to acknowledge his emotional pain - for it cannot ever be willed away, not completely anyways. Both Grandmaster may be capable of forcing a stoic look on their faces, and make themselves appear unfazed by an emotional blow, but superficial appearances, as well as efforts to distract, can never change the fact that they both feel pain and agony through the circumstantial traumas of their past. The purpose of feeling became long clear for both of them, for they are sagacious and mature enough to never deny reality, for they fully conceive themselves without deception and denial. Hanzo helps Kuai to attend to what he senses in the somatic responses, which may differ - as Hanzo explodes, while Kuai implodes - with their proverbial character. They both have learned to nurture empathy and compassion not only for one another, but those who deserve it. Their compassionate self-awareness helps them to truly acknowledge their pain and have a desire to ease it. They do this through cultivating happiness, spending more than enough time not only sparring, training, meditating together, but seeking proper respite, which often comes in the form of their joint onsen bathing, and sensual intimacy. 

👫 Ever since Kuai invited Hanzo to the Lin Kuei Temple to amend their bitter bloodshed and feud, Kuai Liang has taught Hanzo Hasashi the reality of change. Ever since Tundra took on the mantle of Sub-Zero and sought his own expectations through motivation, passion, unbridled resolve to reform the Lin Kuei’s long lost honor, he had taken more realistic, feasible steps to achieve his goals; there of course, were powerful moments of change, for some problems and challenges demanded sudden, radical change. However painful, strenuous, and difficult it may have been, Sub-Zero succeeded in solidifying Lin Kuei as one of the most prominent Earthrealm Defenders, with him as one of the most entrusted and formidable warrior Lord Raiden could rely on. Sub-Zero’s exceptional self-efficacy - his belief in his ability to have control over his behavior and events in his life- had been the foundation for Grandmaster Hasashi’s own motivation and achieving his dreams and goals. 

👫 To Hanzo, the familiarity of loss is something that has been inhabiting a dark corner of his mind ever since his resurrection. Consciously or unconsciously, his memory reproduces past experiences and simulate present and future possibilities, lest they too, all crumble down because Hanzo Hasashi is not the most optimistic individual. Memory for him becomes an essential tool he uses for adapting to various circumstances, but it also becomes an inwardly-turned blade that will continue to trigger distress or anguish. Despite experiencing the same disparate dualism, it is Kuai Liang who activates and overlaps positive emotions that they share, whether it be insignificant and mundane, or exceptionally poignant and vehement as they share their body, mind, and soul freely wthout absolute, unconditional trust and love. 

👫 Hanzo will always consider Kuai Liang to be a superior individual, instead of them being an equal (as Sub-Zero mentions in his intro with D’Vorah). While he does have certain pride, assertiveness, self-esteem, life satisfaction, and certain sense of optimism he used to not have in the past before being in a relationship with Kuai Liang, Hanzo reveres and values him greater than himself. Despite knowing Sub-Zero to be more than capable of fending off adversaries and the unknown they are meant to come across as warriors and leaders of their respective clans, Hanzo Hasashi will always plunge headfirst into the heart of the battle, most often risking himself in order to protect his beloved at all times. 

Bonus 👫 Most often, it’s their silence that means more to them than the flowery, eloquent words exchanged, for they will simply entangle themselves in bodies, hearts, and souls and remain in deep rumination, while tenderly and mellifluously caressing and stroking one another in soothing ministrations.  

[sasorikigai]

@indulgentia

my weakness is two broken characters who are broken in two completely different ways finding each other against all odds and healing each others wounds 

[sasorikigai]

SubScorp Week, Day 4: Lust (heavily leaned towards Hanzo’s POV)

@subscorp-week, and also @indulgentia, @frozenbreath​, @bastardsunlight​

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ❄️ || Once only half an arch, Scorpion has built his own bridge back to humanity, and discovered that actually, he wanted to do his best to taste as much of agony and suffering as he could. How his unspoken thoughts bleed, pouring from every word spoken in the hollowed cranium; Hanzo Hasashi has attempted so hard to hold them back, but instead, he has found himself letting it all out in the Shirai Ryu Training Grounds. How he yearned to be bound together by blinding sunlight, for collection of miracles have brought him to this particular place and construct of time in blood-streaked sweat, salt, and dust.

He is a story, a home, a ferocious wolf that howls in the night. Perhaps, Kuai Liang is his unintended victim, but Hanzo Hasashi knows; kombat always has been their innate righteous providence, their encouraged duty to keep their body, mind, and soul evermore sharp. The road to their innate destiny with no sweeter a wine than the coursing blood in their veins and the taste of summer air paramount, with the quiet salvation in evening musings. And Kuai Liang too, will not have it any other way; for their shared entanglement is what heightens his senses, consumes the last light, as tenebrous shadows and silhouettes of darkness of their mind and soul does not lead them towards the gateway to sin. They have been corrupted, seared, and blackened beneath the malignant viciousness of decay and rot which nearly depleted and usurped their immaculate humanity, flaws and vices and all. 

Now, in this settled sadness and with all the rage burned through the gentle agony and suffering of aching muscles, they find themselves at home in the way their lips collide, meld together as one. They are, after all, vulnerable mortals who ravenously thirsts for more voracious of lusts, of unquenchable warmth one could bestow upon one another. How their hands interlock, fitting together perfectly in the way their bodies are pressed together so tight. And in the way, Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang hope against all odds that tonight, is the night they will lose themselves without ever making it back to Hanzo’s personal chamber. 

The kiss is, strictly speaking, a passing of of twice; a bead from Hanzo Hasashi’s mouth to Kuai Liang’s, then back, breaking the tepidness of ad nauseum, as they get deliriously lost in the comforting sheets of the nature’s proverbiality, encasing them as gentle grass blades rustle against their bareness. In the tightness of Kuai Liang’s thicker arms, Hanzo Hasashi hears echoing emanation of their breaths and the warmth of his heart. Entrapped beneath his beloved in a place of tenderness, he would find himself with Sub-Zero a place of lost and found. No longer emanating the winter’s wrath, the settling night brings such curiosities, these wonders such treasures as Kuai Liang’s chest becomes flush against Hanzo’s, as he nuzzles and whispers into the groove of his beloved’s neck upon parting, as he maps the coordinates of such exquisite architecture below; bones and sinew and ligament as the foundation for a rolling musculature which he has both scarred and revered. 

The agglomerating heat becomes red on white, as their coalescence becomes an unpublished story, the most sacred yet forbidden practice upon the Shirai Ryu Fire Gardens. More chaos administered upon his already intoxicated dopamine-fueled body as Hanzo relishes in the world of whirling dance that he think he might burst. He’s used to the feeling that crawls up his skin and his adamantine bones, that familiar feel of triumph and indispensable self-satisfaction. Until his synapses in his spinal chord shrieks in rumbling fissures as Kuai Liang’s ravenous passion avalanches upon his. And his fervor-saturated reciprocation will rush in pulsing fits, as his breaths are clenched tightly in his lungs, as he takes in the unfiltered essence of winter deep into his being. The muffle of sounds, as bloodied garments scatter and the flesh and bone of their flesh glide and smack as the subtle fight for dominance entangles their appendages further.

Yet, the sensation becomes more like a conciliation than anything else, as his flesh paints further with the gestures of ownership. He’s embodying the vanished overhanging sun as his darkened, dilated intensity of his gaze still clutches it with all of his might; it swirls and swells and beyond a doubt, his ribs become so brittle that they threaten to expand and crack. There were many things Hanzo Hasashi never expected to encounter in his lifetime; one of them being a nagging feeling, there being a constant hollow longing for the love that he no longer has. It beats in his heart like a disused drum, an obnoxious vibration to kiss those well-defined lips, to feel what paradoxical warmth. And they are surprisingly warm, against Kuai Liang’s much cooler body; 

Was it instinct that his fingers glide along the planes of Llang’s back, leaving impressions, bruises and lashes painted in streaks? Was it instinct that he swirls in the fathomless cascading waterfall of darkened sapphire that becomes a anchor upon what seemed inescapable darkness and Hanzo’s on top of his beloved in the most unexpected and exquisite way? Crafting and molding each other in their touches as they pluck their bodies in exquisite orchestration. It was the feeling that stimulated something deep in his very core, licking thoroughly through their spine like a continuous electric shock as they complete the full circuit. 

It would be a lie and make him a hypocrite to deny the fact that the memory of Harumi Hasashi would reduce to be the taste of impermanence, yet he doesn’t have to be fearful of the life where he would be pessimistic; he had found the light upon the mirrors and they no longer contained images of empty dead souls, haunting him in a threading blur of smokes. No more breathless desperation that triggered lifeless contours of charcoal and dust, pressing close, stampeding over him as he helplessly lied beneath the confines of crumbled walls as he drained of his explosive vigor and willpower. Blood-leached and wavering grasp upon tangible reality. Now painted with vivid and warm radiance of that particular image, replaced by their more than real, beyond ostensible connection and unification, he’s ever more aggravated by not only his own fevered flesh and still-warm crimson caress. 

As he loses in their subspace and his moans hoarse with desire, Kuai Liang licks a drop of paint which smear onto the curve under Hanzo’s lower lip, then clashes his lips together once again in such force that the collision takes his breaths away instantly after having graced a moment of stalemate. His rough caress paints Hanzo’s rubicund skin in both reverence and destructible obstruction, as if he had been breaking his beloved apart; tenacious and relentless as they conduct the same, synchronized orchestration of their muscles and dimples. How they both blossom in halcyon heat, as they continue to take turns to melt one another in the summer heat. They will fall for the joy, shedding smiles far and wide in-between harbored storms in their eyes, dampened from the monsoon rains of their thermodynamic collision. 

~~

Soon, Hanzo will find himself deepening the penetration, profoundly diving as the kindled fire fully bursts into a wanton incandescence. He could feel the dimple along his back arch slightly as Kuai Liang maneuvers him, to further become joined at the hips without visible separation. Through constantly panting sound exchanged through with as almost sour, bitter sweetness akin to animal musk sweeps through the length of their bodies with each inhale, Hanzo becomes a wild, unhindered animal, interspersed with inaudible press of moans, turning into eerie shrieks within his cranium, threatening to push through the taut neck which arch. 

There’s so much Hanzo could feel as their bodies embody an eclipse, the effulgent fire and pristine winter cold coalescing together to cause a world of difference upon the humanity as to let their presences known, if they hadn’t done it already. On road to its pinnacle, both of them edges, painfully and delectably, taking rushed skips before he is faced with the zenith of all. Their bodies embody more like a kiln, slow to reach its boiling point, then the heat feels like a widening hole swallowing them whole and each minute movement of their rippling embers elevated to become a deafening roar as he locks in petrification. And a whole world of galaxy presents itself upon their shared half-lidded gaze, as their stillness extends and ripples like fathomless ocean. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ❄️ || 

[sasorikigai]

Konsider yourselves lucky if your muse(s) ever use Hanzo or Kuai’s middies as your own personal pillow. They are very warm, exceptionally so (especially Hanzo’s), and has just enough give of being malleable, but they are on the firm and hard side. Just think of them as a personally-tailored pillow with exceptional support. 

[sasorikigai]

Shirai Ryu on Fire by StormWolfSFM. This is such an amazing, jaw-dropping work of art that I needed to share. 

[sasorikigai]

@indulgentia

[sasorikigai]

SubScorp Week, Day 3: AU - Hanzo Hasashi is the SF Commander (Tactical Retrieval Squadron) and Kuai Liang is a Special Crime Investigator who had been abducted by the Black Dragon.

@subscorp-week, and also @indulgentia, @frozenbreath​, @bastardsunlight​

💥📝 || Through an imperceptible, yet perceivable sound, the characteristically silent whoosh of the bullet takes its aimed projectile right through Commander Hasashi’s head. The distinct scent of gunpowder oozes through the barrel as his form crumbles away, though his heart continues to roam, to rattle the earth whole, only to feel his newfound home erode into nothing more than an abysmal black hole. His own voluptuous lips mirror that of the hushed huff emitted by the gunsmoke, as he inhales. It seems to settle beneath his lungs as his breaths suspend over the cavity of his squeezed tissue. 

A familiar figure scurries to hold Hanzo’s sprawled and open palm, with his own government-issued glock dropped somewhere, neglected. Through an obscurity of cacophonous commotion, raining bullets to retrieve Special Crimes Investigator Kuai Liang, the Commander’s honed gaze fixates to bring down the subject of his focus, the damned Black Dragon Kano making the beeline for one of his fellow commanding officers, and as the mumbled hushed sound of grunts break out of his ajar lips, his arms extends as it goes the farthest, well-defined muscles rigorously stretching as his teeth sets, as a scalding heat of his copious blood becomes magmatic against his temple, flowing down the swell of his cheeks and defined cheekbones. 

He could feel his soul hollow and blood cold, as the pulsing throes of life-draining shot has rendered him unrecognizable, lest his concave, shattered helmet prevents him from both rapid exsanguination and immediate loss of conscious. Tenaciously holding himself up with the trigger secured between his long, capable fingers, a series of aimed shot fire with such force, and Kano drops dead with a severe gunshot wound on his left shoulder, then a fatal shot against the trunk of his head, the high velocity of a bullet exiting in an upward diagonal near his inner right eye. But there’s no moment to celebrate or exhale an eased breath; shuttering, as Hanzo Hasashi shatters, the piece of him scatter as his sinking head refuses to make the approaching silhouette to be buried beneath the silent ocean of obfuscated fog. 

A scurrying form of Kuai Liang emerges from the thick smoke and diminishing commotion. There is no longer a distinction between love and darkness, as his conscious’ edge too, threatens to crumble and shatter beyond repair. He is covered in grime and remnants of concrete from head to toe, but despite the telltale chafe around his wrists and ankles and neck, Kuai Liang doesn’t bleed, nearly as much as Commander Hasashi, who begins to splutter and cough as his trembling hand visibly struggles to lift his visor. “Sorry I hesitated. I wanted to break the cycle of my life beating me down, and yet - I didn’t know how to...,” 

Beneath the rubbled gravel restricting his field of vision, Hanzo Hasashi’s head tips to Kuai’s right side, with a growl akin to the wounded animal ravenously bearing teeth towards the equally wounded prey that still could kill them both. “My glock... on your right. Two Black Dragon approaching from your four o’clock.” The reality begins to close in with a choking grasp as the damned ephemeral world begins to drape over, as the dribbling denseness of his blood manifests itself like red army ants crawling, silent until the sickle moon sweeps over his black uniform, as he becomes the wilting rose as the last defiant, valiant struggle clasps around Kuai’s right hand. 

Kuai’s adamant grasp of the glock points towards the assailants, and before they could lift their glinting silver blade and plunge it deep into his heart, a series of gunshots roar and echo, reverberate through the extended limb as the furrowed intensity and tautness melts, beginning with his slouching shoulder and heaved breath. They too, take their journey towards the sinking descension, with diminishing pounding of their chest constituting that in fact, their wretched lives on Earth have come to an irreversible end. “It brings calmness and assurance, knowing that I have had a good teacher, Hanzo,” his veered head makes sure that there is no more approaching enemies, before Kuai regards the SF squadron of his safety, refusing to be parted, lest heavy exhaustion causes his lean muscles to slouch and sag. 

Surrounded by constant hubbub of numerous people, but painfully alone, both of them tiptoeing and flirting with the edge of Death, looking over a cliff, and wondering if the ground would look as pretty as this view. Both were sinking a gaze into dying wildflowers, as Kuai Liang sinks his nose into dying wildflowers. They are beautiful and broken, and perhaps, he will lay here, watch the sky along with Hanzo, as they stare at the same comfort of an absent shooting star. How he craves to take in the heated feverous heat of Hanzo, emanating not only from the steady trickle that pool over the cracked helmet, but of his hand. Kuai Liang once thought it was sweat and tears streaming down his face; but it is his blood, as his bad eye fills with helical red, saturating him whole, as his complex emotions of acceptance, rage, humiliation, defiance; become the fertile grounds where their larger-than-life stories are bred and cultivated in their coalesced lifefluid. 

How Hanzo clings onto his soul with a strength born out of the etched darkness, violence, and desperation; as he is the offspring of undeserved violence, living through the polyphony of desolateness and bloodlust. “I love you, Liang, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” My love is neverending, simply timeless, but your love will only take on the fleeting seasons of my life, with barely countable memories to be called truly happy. “Liang,” how the approaching Death grabs his neck, threaten to rip him in half, tearing all his dreams apart. A nightmare begins, the one he cannot get up from, as it devours him, slowly, until the sun tints the sky then leaving him broken for another day. 

“Hanzo,” the warmth of Kuai Liang’s voice settles upon the Commander, as Kuai’s trembling hand reaches for any flesh he could find upon the kevlar-armored, bruised being of the broader and taller form. “Please rest. You do not have to come to my rescue and protect me all the time. Let me be in your charge for once. The more you climb, the more it would hurt to fall back down, where nothing works. Bring yourself relief you have long denied for far too long.” 

The flaying thread may hang suspended in the air, seeping strength and vigor and his utmost concentration along with it. Even as the ripen pain, the triad of physical, emotional, and psychological all mounts to make Hanzo Hasashi sequenced to seek for his eternal absolution in plunging himself in the vicious spectacle of violent onslaught, as his sharpened gaze cracks open a crevice in his heart, as immeasurable as the oceans as herculean burden further paints his already pained countenance. 

“In peace, or raptured in fire - I will seek justice. Nothing will keep me from bringing the fucking world down, Kuai Liang,” the last reserve of his strength curls upon his beloved’s fingers, before the intrinsic wildfire of his intense being relinquishes beneath the coaxing unconscious, as the cacophonous atmosphere dies down to tend to the injured. “Get yourself treated for once.” For even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise. Just as I will continue to rise amidst the searing pain and darkness of my depression. 💥📝 || 

[sasorikigai]

Can I get a hanzo or two doing that friendship thing with one of his romantic interests? Any verse of him really, let the man be silly and cute happy.

Random Inbox Shenanigans || anonymous, based on this gifset (x) || always accepting!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ❄️ || Even as the hurt buries itself deep within, Hanzo Hasashi becomes amazed at this condition of his heart breaking; it’s not physical. No bone nor blood or any visible injury, and yet, he feels as if his heart is slowly dying. As if he can feel the flesh tearing and his ribcage opening up. The pain is unbearable and excruciating, but where? Where does it originate? He feels it, but he cannot account for it. He is a most curious creature who loves and pours everything he has into another once his hard-built trust solidifies and becomes eternal. He would push every bit and piece of his trust and devotion to the center of his heart, with the very real risk of having it all taken away in the blink of an eye with a single vicious fatal blow. 

In the past as Scorpion, he may have been doomed to oblivion, just doomed with no saving grace. At least as Hanzo Hasashi, with all the regained humanity and matured sagaciousness of a refined warrior, he still continues to live in a pocket of oblivion. Even as his life itself brings dissolution of senses at times, with his emotions devolving into nebulous destructive hellfire, with spirits of slaughtered lightning across shadow incandescent landscape of desolate and arid earth, Hanzo Hasashi reminds himself of the steady rustling energy of love becoming a catalytic hope. And how the breaking would burn and burrow deep within his soul, as the Shirai Ryu massacre had challenged his self-observation and self-awareness, as Scorpion had lost all the compassion and honor which used to be Hanzo Hasashi’s foundation and blueprint. 

Kuai Liang would be more than familiar with the physical and mental toll of Hanzo Hasashi’s many sacrifices and endured cruelties. Rebelling against the forbiddance of attachment of any kind, the Lin Kuei principles of the past which he vehemently rebelled against, as it reviled any possibilities of human sentiment, which were deemed weak and as vehement hindrance against their fearsome ferocity. Had Kuai Liang known the specifics as Tundra, nearly ostracized from his own clan, but Bi-Han’s younger brother did have significant influence as he was the second-best, the worst cryomancer they had out of the two. The heart-wrenching culture of impermanence would have been still etched deep in Sub-Zero’s heart, for he had experienced and gained knowledge that anything, anything could be taken away from him in an instant. 

And even his honored distinction as Bi-Han’s continued instruction which would further the progress of his stagnant cryomancy did not placate the fact that his life could end in a moment in time. Even the roof above his humble cot and equally simple clothes on his back could be taken away from him, as he once had been kidnapped to the Lin Kuei temple as an infant. The stark synchronicity of his name - quick-freeze - may not even be his real name, despite having been called Kuai Liang or Tundra, or Sub-Zero as he took the mantle in honor of Bi-Han’s name for so long that it too, had become his own foundation and blueprint. 

Their inseparable correlation, the disparate, yet conjoined red strings of fate which entwined them as bitter rivals, then unlikely allegiance, towards tying the knot in Shirai Ryu tradition of Scorpion thrusting his chained kunai deep into Sub-Zero’s heart under both soft, yet portent cerulean skies mirroring the gentility of Kuai Liang’s peaceful love that could stretch like an unfathomable ocean as his awakened passion could match that of Hanzo Hasashi’s effulgent flames, the sunflower yellow and pristine blue-clad warriors, husbands, and Grandmasters engage in warmth-rift of numerous scars, as rich lush earth of the Shirai Ryu Fire Gardens permeate them as their bodies coalescence without boundaries, save for their distinctive flesh hues. 

The overflowing vigor and strength may continue to color them in livid bruises, as the meaty smacks of their fleshes and hard collisions of their adamantine bones and hardened muscles littered with blemishes will continue to blend in with the onyx shadows of the night, while the heated fire and passion they both conflagrate upon one another will grow their love and its commitment profoundly, enough to let one wound one another. What is love, but a sacrifice, and what is love but a collection of wound? 

Having been thrown over the erected ice slab of Kuai Liang’s cryomancy, the scorching tip of Hanzo Hasashi’s kunai penetrates the air with vicious, viper-like celerity, as the serrated blade hooks upon the strap of Sub-Zero’s plated shoulder armor. “GET OVER HERE,” he bellows with his characteristic gravelly baritone, which Sub-Zero effortlessly translates as the recited intensity of the pyromancer’s undying, inextinguishable love. The severity of Scorpion’s visage visibly mellows, as the cryomancer’s broad, bulky torso collides against his more narrow, chiseled musculature. “How you have transformed the drab, moribund, deathly sky to become magnificent, and consolidated my paradigms, principles, and my own spirituality. I will forever be yours, if you promise to be mine in not only life, but beyond death and on as well.” 

How Hanzo Hasashi’s entirety illuminates, as his swollen profile settles and nestles deep into the damp crook of Kuai Liang’s neck. Kuai Liang reciprocates, as the anchoring light olive of his arms cradle the taller lover’s waist, as the deep ocean of his sapphire gaze reflects the dwelling fire in Hanzo’s dark amber eyes. “I will continue to wear your pain as a reminder, for my heart should be able to continue to simply conjure you into my existence - here, beside me to talk, to kiss, to do whatever we envision. For without you, the heart is just a muscle, and not even a heart.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ❄️ || 

[sasorikigai]

There will be nothing, but winter in my tomb when they lay my ashes beneath soft soil. You will remember me as an ancient winter and I will rot. I will rot until I am the mouths of bugs that ate me, thousands of mouths. I will be beneath snow-covered trees. Winter will be my home at last, a distinct memory of my beautiful mother in our small wooden home, crying in the pale sunlight of morning. “One day, this winter will kill my sons!” and I knew, that day, I would die in winter. I would take winter to my tomb.  - Bi-Han/OG Sub-Zero @frozenbreath​

You have endured numerous nights so dead, yet breathing and alive; and there were no facts, only interpretations. You were plucked and taken, ravaged and slaughtered far from your home. You would have wilted and then waned, as your death planted a arid drought. You adapted and transformed, instead of being left for the Dead and oppressive heat of the Netherrealm. In the silence you knew, that there would be no peace in ending. When the opportunity came, you breathed; revivified life into Phoenix’s plumage. Then you lived the life of Icarus; towards the sun, never striving to grow, but facing cacophony before the fall. You carve yourself hollow, let your decaying organs spill out. fill your charred, empty lungs with honey-sweet desire for the optimistic future instead. As you thread sunshine into your hair with your calloused fingertips. you know without a doubt that even if it tried, the whole universe could never capture all the light within you. For you set the world on fire with your touch. watch him fall searching the abyss as you stand, with bones lying at your feet and a crown upon your head. You are Scorpion, a Shirai Ryu ninja better known as Sasori, with the mighty sweeping tail of lightning-fast strikes and unbendable iron-will - for your unconquerable soul will remain bloody, but unbowed; for you are the master of your fate, the captain of your soul. - Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion @kathexismania​

And how gentle can the caress of mountain storm be? I have opened my eyes to the mountain and snow and pearly clouds. What gentleness could settle in my scarred palms when they learned nothing, but gripping and clenching and slamming? No roads take me home anymore. I started in a body I will end in ice. My brother is rotting and I am running. I am running... I don’t sleep without hearing his screams anymore. I can’t breathe under my mask of ice anymore. What will be left of me when I survive this?  - Kuai Liang/Sub-Zero @frozenbreath​

You endured such a macabre, dead place, a graveyard atop the world littered with nature’s corpses, frozen and barren of life. Your life had been a quintessential manifestation of survival of the fittest; the waking moment never surreal or imbued with reinvigorating energy, as inquietudine vulnerability becomes the whirling vortex as rampant deception and mistrust  tainted the honor of the Lin Kuei beyond irreparable. Yet, the Lin Kuei had been your home without a home, as defiance and resistance sculpted, as you refused to be swept undertow as a quiet torture emanated through you as the instrument of abysmal void. Even when your breath was ragged, a tangled semi-unconscious mess as the heat of the rushing blood counteracted against the sharp glaciers of your power; for your emotions are not the death of efficiency and capability. You remained evermore still like a perennial ocean that would encompass everything in your merciful compassion and kindness. You became the testament of unequivocal loyalty and dedication, as you sculpted not only yourself, but the entirety of the clan with heavy burden, but much more with an open-armed acceptance. You continue to carry deeply introspective wounds and transform your peripheral emotions that hinder your sanctum as you bear all the dark undertow of loss, ever patiently and strenuously. You cannot escape your sensitivities, yet you can allow them, and you can move forward. - Kuai Liang/Sub-Zero @kathexismania​

aest. featuring @frozenbreath‘s Bi-Han & Kuai Liang and @kathexismania​’s Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang.