@xthesparequeen stabbed the heart for Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Most people are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but now, love hurts. Feelings come in onslaught of abundance and poignance, and Hanzo Hasashi cannot stop it from breaking the proverbial dam of his weakened heart. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous, but how can they deal with love if they are afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake him up, transmogrify him to carry the burdensome strength in the experience of pain. Pain is a feeling, an embedded part of him that he will never get to completely sever, as the experience of painful feeling revivifies the vigor and strength of his purified hellfire. Hanzo would never feel ashamed of them and hide them, for he will never fathom to understand the reason why he would let society destroy his reality. Even when the pristine flawlessness of his love towards Harumi become ghosts in the yellowed, faded recollections; a moment frozen in time, a picture perfect halcyon tranquility reminisced, but never fully revisited.
In the harsh throes of his night terror, he finds his frayed existence reverberating like the tolling bell, fading in and out of those familiar stone walls of Arendelle. How everything manifests into a frigid wind along a cheek and heart a balloon swelling to explode, as the consciousness of the truth further becomes perceived by the awfulness and the absurdity of his own existence. How everything seizes him whole, as Hanzo feels it pushing at the edges of his ribs, expanding the broadness of his torso in visible, strained manner. Perhaps Hanzo had been looking for a place to rub itself just so for the rupture that will be lifeblood spilling out the door of his heart. Unexpected, paralyzed blink into the darkened atmosphere of his personal chamber lingers, and Hanzo witnesses unfaded sparkles of light; celestial bodies too far away to be of use, as they offset the obsidian black of his tenebrous shadows.
When eyes open and eyes close, there is hollow black inside the large swell of his amber eyes. The swelling balloon is painful then, as pressure builds inside his throat. Threads of spit and melancholic sadness cling to the parting circle of lips as his dampened head, splattered with long locks that had burned the stifling intense flames out of his being, reducing his vigorous dutifulness and disciplined fervor to ash. What a foolish heart, wanting the very ones that caused its destruction. Hanzo would allow them to walk on water, even though it would mean that he would find himself sprawled, curled on his side to be plucked out of the drowning expanse that would stretch onward and beyond. How could he expel them if he had been the prey, not the predator? Would Hanzo able to enact a better defense against it? ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||