#tscng

[dreams1nc]

"Leslie," his voice a warning. "You shouldn't be here." His tone cold, but only with concern, he could never truly be icy towards the man who stood before him.

      FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE SHADOWS; A CARELESS FIGURE EMERGES. Lesliet wondered what set it off? Was it the motion that moved in the darkness or the click of a heel? It no longer mattered. Pale lips that crack into a know it all smile, the brief snort, then he shakes his head. “Can’t let you have all the fun” the stoic voice cracks momentarily, not out of familiarity, something else that was unidentifiable. The casual nature of his stance, gloved fingers finding home within his pockets, it’s still odd to wear a suit despite the punky exterior.

    Nothing changed, still an informant that moved with a precision one would find lethal for a young soul, the scenery no longer smelled of pungent filth, damp alleys; but it’s the same. Hazel, with too much gold, sharp, ruthless, he could remember the backhanded compliments remarking; too much pride for a pretty boy delinquent. “That was my target, I had it dealt with already, no need to intervene” gone were the days of being a lackey to a kingpin, somehow, this almost felt nostalgic it just lacked the usual desperation & required a more finesse touch.

       “Well, it can’t be helped, I’m still upset” a cocky thing that’s monochromatic tone never changed despite the naughty glint that flashed briefly in his demeanor. Shinra had a list of enemies to be dealt with, another to extort or casually black mail, it was better than rotting inside listening to Reno droll on for days or endure the ghoulish mountains of paperwork - who knew recruitment meant being shackled to a desk? Surely not him. “I’m heading back, boss, got to pack for Junon & the long travel it entails - how fun” a swift pivot on his heels, the echo of his steps stopping midway as he cast a reflection gazing backwards.

      “You could stay there the whole time, play nice with our new friend or join me - I think a drink together is far more relaxing, it’s your choice”

[omniterror]

  ❝   i must admit, for a buffoon, heidegger  seems  to command a great deal of loyalty from you all — as does our newly acquired president. ❞    sapphire eyes narrow, studying him momentarily before retiring a harsh scoff at the initial silence. what did she expect when speaking to a turk.

short starter call for @tscng   /   tseng & scarlet

[lightrookiearchive]

closed thread with @tscng

the sun beat down on her pale hair , making her feel uncomfortably warm in the black suit she'd donned that morning. small patches of sunlight peeked past rooftops and reflected off puddles on the ground , causing elena to blink more often. she absentmindedly thought about rude , and how he always wore his sunglasses - perhaps she should get her own pair ?? maybe they could all match.

fighting down a snort , she forced down the urge to shift her weight from one foot to the other. standing still for long amounts of time was still something she didn't particularly enjoy , but turks didn't fidget. shooting a glare back at a passerby who had decided to give her a dirty look , elena hoped that tseng wouldn't be much longer. it wasn't often that the two went out on an assignment together , but she still enjoyed it all the same. she found solace in tseng's company and cherished the sense of camaraderie they shared. he had disappeared into a building , telling her to stay and to guard the front, and so she did. the door to her left swung open and elena turned her head , watching as the dark-haired man emerged from the shadowy room. ‘ did you get what we need ?? ’ she asked quietly , aware that they were garnering attention. ‘ or do you need me to go in there ?? ’

[scorching-passion]

It's hard to ignore the fact that Tseng had a knack for organization. As Roche's birthday approached, he knew without being told. However, he made sure to make the day extra special. He would receive roses on his birthday in the morning, along with a note saying 'Happy Birthday, Darling. T xx'. He would receive small gifts throughout the day, personalised -- clearly none of them cheap, until he messaged him around 5pm.

Good afternoon, Love. I hope your birthday was a pleasant one. Meet me at mine tonight, 8pm xx' And, when his partner would arrive, Tseng would be amidst aromas in the kitchen -- cooking something his other half liked. Nothing fancy like what he usually prepares, but caters to him. "Good Evening, Dove." He said softly as he heard the door open.

Birthday Asks - ACCEPTING TODAY ONLY

He had apparently mentioned it in passing, perhaps in the throws of passion or even a mundane conversation the blond doesn't recall having. Still, the flowers were, indeed, a very pleasant surprise, gifted to him via the pretty receptionist down in the foyer, who had hilariously believed the bouquet had been for her.

Roche, despite taking a great deal of enjoyment from her initial humiliation, felt out a little sympathy for the girl and offered her a single posy from the bunch. One which she had accepted seemingly whole heartedly. As for the rest, Roche had arranged them lovingly, fawning over each leaf and every petal, in a makeshift vase (meaning a single drinking glass which was dangerously unbalanced, and he'd overfilled the thing twice... Roche knew nothing of the fine arts of flower arranging...) in his simple dorm room. He had every intention of collecting them later, the little note propped up against it. Still he would take a single flower and wear it in his hair for the remainder of his shift that day. Many a look and a snicker from colleagues and strangers alike were not enough to deter this Speed Demon from showing off the singular rose gifted to him by his one and only.

If anything, their teasing would only spur him on! Much to everyone else's utter dismay, it should be noted.

And it was with his rose nestled in his hair did he show up to cast his shadow across Tseng's threshold, the delectable scent of broiled meats wafting from the door as it opened and Roche would inevitably invite himself in.

And he would greet his lover with a kiss, deep, and so very ravenous as were the times when he would be forced into that crippling distance for longer than a day, which would seem an age and more.

"Surely, my dearest Tseng, you did not go through all of this trouble for little ole me, hm?" there was a softness to his tone, devoid of the usual boom which would carry on the winds of his voice, his smile softer still as his sights would settle on the one thing which occupied his thoughts lately.

Everyday felt like a birthday when he was here, with him.

[scorching-passion]

@tscng​ asked: “If you ever feel stupid or weak or powerless, just remember that I, am not. Text Prompts List - ACCEPTING

Roche really doesn’t know what to do with this information, in fact he’s not entirely certain what he did to deserve it while he just lounges in that basement office, minding his own; courtesy of one Rufus Shinra of course. Though this is Tseng after all, the Turks answer to arrogance personified if ever the Third had seen it. 

The blond didn't particularly hate the man, he didn’t know him well enough to formulate such a strong opinion, but he certainly disliked him a great deal, much like he disliked most if not all Turks… but Tseng in particular, with his pin straight hair, and his finely pressed pants. 

Ponce! 

And so Roche would simply lay there on that rather comfortable sofa, arms thrown up behind his head, and staring at this man as he did whatever he was doing over there by the over sized desk, something utterly mundane the Third could possibly fathom. Though he waited, so patiently, until those dark eyes noticed the glare radiating from Roche’s general direction before the SOLDIER would then dramatically squint at the man, lips twisting together thoughtfully before he would profoundly state:

“I can see your nipples right through your shirt.” 

Who’s the loser now?!

[reevc]

tscng asked:  ‘ try to keep up. ’ 

「   RP MEME : RELUCTANT ALLIES .   」   ||Accepting || @tscng

he couldn’t help but let out a small huff from his lips. He wasn’t used to being out on the field. so trying to keep up on his feet was a little more --- annoying. but even so he couldn’t help but sigh a bit as he tried to push himself a little more each time. 

When the other said to push himself --- it was annoying, since he didn’t want to come out here to being with. but work had called for it.  Working with the Turks where always -- a pain. But taking the second he couldn’t help but exhale and move a little more.

“ you know I wasn’t told where we where going. so wearing the proper stuff would have been better. but yet, here I am. in a suit and shoes that aren’t even comfortable.” he huffed a little. “ But I’m trying to keep up.” 

[makoblue]

❛ So, I guess something went wrong? ❜ -- @tscng​

“That’s a severe understatement.” His voice is ragged and the words fall from his lips as though hewn out of shredded bits of paper.

The world feels like it’s spinning. Or maybe he’s the one spinning?

Cloud presses his palms to the bottom half of his face and drags downwards out of a physical need to express the exhaustion that seeps into his bones. Too much had happened at the Temple of the Ancients. Too much of it was his fault. “You don’t look so good yourself,” the blond continues in retort despite the nausea flip flopping in his stomach like a wild-caught fish.

[stingslikeabee]

An assignment unlike any of the others. This wasn't Sephiroth, nor was it Avalanche. It was the Don. Don Corneo. A slimy little man that had sold them out, a slimy little man who'd not be able to stay away from his home in the slums. Tseng knows. He knows it when he sits in the corner of the inn, a drink on his lips and a cigarette unlit and dancing between gloved fingers. That son-of-a-bitch will come around again. He can feel it. "Melissa-" he nods. Can she feel it, too?

random asks . always accepting

It was with a silver lighter in hand that Melissa appeared by his side, a gentle smile on knowing lips. Tseng didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes moved to meet hers told the madame everything she needed to know and she lit his cigarette, the lighter then placed on the table where his drink came to rest over shortly thereafter.

“I was beginning to think you had gone fully exclusive with your work relationship,” she commented in a lighthearted tone, moving to take a seat by his side and gracefully reclining against the couch they now shared. Her joke did not go unnoticed by the Turk, who had a glint in his eyes as he took a drag from the cigarette – and as he softly exhaled the air, Tseng looked at her with penetrating eyes.

“Not yet,” he conceded, fingers absentmindedly playing with the cigarette in a way that Melissa often found hypnotic – maybe it had to do with the gloves, a part of her brain thought. And suddenly these hands moved in a silent offer for her to take a drag – and she willingly took it, willing herself to relax.

They were both workaholics, she thought with a wry smile. How rich of her to suggest Tseng needed a break when she did exactly the same. They were both captains of their own ships, after all – there was a lot on their shoulders… And the last times they met, both the Turk and the mistress had converged to their mutual enemy: Corneo.

And the idea of that man being loose and capable of enacting any sort of revenge filled Melissa with dread and anger – she wished he had been killed, despite how wrong it was of her to seek baseless revenge despite professing herself a believer in second chances.

But fuck what was right – this was Wall Market. She had survived so long because men like Tseng were willing to do what they had to – rather than being regular, law-abiding citizens. And she could pose as the blameless and generous queen of the slums all she wanted – her throne was stained with blood, and the only reason it didn’t show up on her fingers was because the Turks had cleaned it up for her.

“I’m afraid,” she said eventually – and although it could have sounded like a weird conversation without any sort of introduction, Tseng seemed to follow her train of thought just perfectly. “Sometimes I can’t sleep because I know he’s out there. And I don’t know how much power he still has to hurt others,” she reached out for the cigarette again, taking another drag, “To hurt me.”

A gloved hand came to rest over hers – she turned, once more linking their gazes together and Melissa realized his eyes had softened, even if marginally. “Don’t be afraid,” he said at length, the pressure of his own digits over hers easing until they were completely gone, the Turk claiming the cigarette back to him, “He can’t hurt you.”

‘I won’t let him’, came the silent promise.

And in that moment, the madame realized something – all her fears and worries: Tseng had already considered and mapped them. The reason he had been gone from the inn for so long had been precisely to work on Corneo – his whereabouts, what sort of support he still retained, how to possibly lure him out and end this.

It was her time to reach out – boldly so, touching his cheek with naked fingers for a moment before dropping them altogether, a grateful smile on her lips that was just the tip of the mixed feelings that danced in her eyes.

“Thank you.”