#fallendragon

MURDER BALLAD: A NEW MUSICAL LYRICS SENTENCE STARTERS.

quem queria enganar? com aquela aparência mórbida, com os sentimentos confusos e inconstantes, a falta de controle em si mesmo. ushio respirou fundo e manteve o melhor sorriso que tinha e sinceramente, eram poucos os que tinha. quando mentia ele não sentia mais um peso como antigamente, porque foram tantas vezes que era quase como se tivesse se tornado imune ao pesar. 

his laugh fills the room as he sets down the chocolates on the table (the weight of the candy actually making the wobbly table lean to one side). “well, there’s not many people there,” he says, taking out of the boxes of chocolates, opening it to reveal rows of intricately designed pieces. without hesitation he pops a piece into his mouth, savoring the complex flavors the boutique had placed into that tiny piece. “and plus, they were the scandal of the century! i admired it. against all odds, their romance prevailed even as the gods themselves fought against it. now, once a year, they get to make love~” he says, mouth filled with chocolate, but trying his best to not spit as he eats and talks. fenghong walks over to heihei, box of chocolates in hand, and offers it to the dragon. his hands are behind his back (is he hiding something), but fenghong doesn’t question it.

The Departed (2006)

Sua letargia pós-refeição sempre se tornava um grande problema, especialmente quando comia tão pouco para se sentir satisfeito sob a forma adulta. O melhor jeito de gastar as proteínas que seu corpo não necessitava era convertendo em grossas gotas de líquido endurecível que poderia ser convertido em finos fios. Uma mão sempre disposta à ir para sua boca que emanava vapores, outra se dedicava em utilizar suas finas garras para enrolar um delicado novelo branco cintilante em seu pulso, esse era o modo que passava o tempo. Que belo objeto poderia construir com aquele pouco que produzira? Talvez um enfeite de cabelo, seria maravilhoso! Entretanto uma voz cortou-o de seus devaneios, acidentalmente cortando seu longo fio em uma grossa bola de cola que despencou por entre seus lábios. “Coincidência.” Falou como se sua língua estivesse inchada ao ser que interrompeu sua paz. “Sua presença por pouco não passou despercebida por mim.”

              ❛ Algum problema? ❜ 

the dragon might not look impressed and he might sound mad to most folks, but the phoenix knows that the fact the dragon doesn’t walk off into the other room, leaving him alone on the floor is a sign he’s actually amused and willing to entertain this. encouraged, there’s a twinkle on his eyes even as he frowns playfully. he adds, “ah... i can’t get myself together, last night it was a rough night of sleep and i was feeling a little off...” 

“𝙎𝙃𝘼𝘿𝙊𝙒 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙀” - 𝙄𝙉𝙎𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎. || @fallendragon || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Often times, Satoshi feels as if he does not exist; neither here, nor there. Like a specter, a shadow, a memory of himself washed away beneath the passing hourglass of time. He may be the both the haunter and the haunted, his past forever misremembered, misconstrued, drifting among a sea of strangers, anchored by the grief, him being the sole living, breathing one left behind. The unfathomable distance he feels between himself and all the bereaved can be like death itself; something that constantly paints him with the blues, as once unperturbed ocean of his soul would be ravaged with the sounds of all-consuming waves threatening to usurp every bit of his sanity. 

His father’s nightmarish presence still haunts his nightmares; the sheer vehemence of Hanzo Hasashi’s anger, its warmth, its rage, consuming a desert of thirst as once brilliant blue sky of Satoshi’s halcyon peace would swell with unpent unquenchable rage. It may be his wild grief which doesn’t know where to end, a field alive and yet never properly buried as the fragmented splatter of his macerated corpse still covers the depths of impervious night. Satoshi Hasashi had grown so alive and so alone, a world hushed in deepest blues and specks of rust sending torrential crimson towards his way. 

“One of the hardest parts of life has been deciding whether to walk away from my persistent grief and unexpressed anger or try harder to express them,” he quietly admits, before letting his lips stretch into a thin horizontal line in a somber smile. Satoshi knows, the things that hurt him inexplicably may have left unhealable scars, but they did not destroy him. He survived, and that alone has granted indescribable hope so many could only dare to dream of. For scars have helped him to write the most meaningful words and actions upon Shirai Ryu, and while suffering manifests itself as a muse that awakens and constricts his bleeding heart, but there always has been a magnificent light inside of him; sometimes just hidden by mists and shadow. “But it doesn’t mean that I wish barbaric harm to all those who have caused the lives of so many to choke and gurgle on chilling despair of unbearable cold.” 

❛❛ We  grow  STRONGER,  the  world  grows  more  DANGEROUS  ━━━━━━━━━━  Life  has  a  funny  way  of  keeping  things  BALANCED. ❜❜      Though  pointed,  his  tone  still  undeniably  carries  the  sweet  taste  of  SOLICITUDE  at  each  word  leisurely  pronounced.  Slender  fingers  mindlessly  travel  over  the  other's  neck,  with  the  sole  purpose  of  fixing  the  collar  of  his  garment,  although  those  obsidian  eyes  may  have  wasted  a  bit  of  time  examining  the  details  along  the  way.  This  Dragon  knows  that  having  his  Xiao  Shi  staying  ALIVE  and  healthy  up  to  that  point  was  a  feat  in  itself,  something  he  was  both  GRATEFUL  and  thoroughly  PROUD  of.  Yet  there  lay  in  him  this  strange  protective  instinct  that  could  be  both  a  blessing  and  a  CURSE  at  this  point.  Nothing  that  came  to  the  surface  of  those  beautiful  features,  however,  PALE  and  DELICATE  like  the  thin  frost  sheets  covering  the  forests  that  surrounded  that  place.

✵ ｡ ･ ʃ 〈 @ Satoshi 〉 ͓

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || He is a beautiful piece of broken pottery, put back together by many hands; most prominent ones being Lord Raiden and Huan Hei. A critical world may judge Satoshi Hasashi’s kintsugi lines of golden joinery, while missing the beauty of how he made himself whole again. Satoshi’s nightmarish visions plaguing his nights manifest themselves as a curse of vestigial truth, revealing his own entombment within Sub-Zero’s chilling deathly menace. His mother remained brutally impaled by the unforgiving chill of eternal winter’s stillness, while his barely beating heartbeats remained a white noise murmur as his inevitable death drew near. Cold pangs embedded upon his heart and lungs, despite a fevered quandary with kicks and bursts defiantly resisted as the defiant and resilient Hasashi trait exuded upon young Satoshi’s innocent, yet resolute eyes. 

Ever since he was lost in the throes of viciousness of the world, Satoshi had never been afraid of being lost. For his subconscious was meant to wander off from time to time, for the long-instilled fear of never quite finding himself often kept him all night, even amidst his strenuous trainings to continue Hanzo Hasashi’s abruptly severed legacy. HeiHei had been a healer amidst countless destroyers around him; dealing with any and everything life had thrown the young Hasashi. He had been the warm touch that comforts, despite often reminding him of the very gelid touch that rendered him immobile, exacerbating the pain deep within him. There still may be vulnerability lingering at the tip of his lips, and within the unfathomable chestnut eyes that exude melancholia. 

Satoshi feels an unsettling bout of despair and jarringly out of sync this evening, all while the resplendent sun shines and clouds pour rain outside his window simultaneously. Perhaps that was why your father had to meet his brutal, humiliating death. A whispered voice, taunting and nearly persuasive in its timbre, sneers in his heart and soul, as forced feelings build up inside him, threatening to spill through his lips. “I am done counting exit wounds; icicle holes that still serve as reminders of the Shirai Ryu massacre and extinction, and everyone leaves eventually. It is what I learned lesson after lesson (evolve or repeat), but as you know, I still haven’t quite made my peace with anguish.” 

@fallendragon​ asked   :    ❝ you think i’m an ignorant savage? ❞ @ Big Powerful Ghost Lady???   -   DISNEY MEME (ACCEPTING)