#tseng.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

I definitely should be getting babied right now and it's quite the crime that I'm not

[grandschemed]

don’t reblog / art credit.

GOD I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH R.UFUS CARES ABOUT HIS T.URKS THANK YOU

[makoblue]

“  a little blood never hurt anyone.  ” -- @ceaselxss​

“Yeah? I think ‘a little blood’ is on the tamer side for you guys,” Cloud counters with a snort. If there had been a point to it, he could have rattled off a litany of crimes and any one of the morally questionable things that the Turks have done. 

Tseng looks as composed as ever, but there exists a distance of several feet between them.

Testing his bonds, Cloud sets his jaw and pulls hard against the ropes bound around his chest with all the strength he can muster. He can hear the fibers creak from the strain, but they don’t budge. Smart. Rope with a steel cable core. Cloud drops the effort, slacking against his chair with an annoyed sigh.

A minute arch of Tseng’s brow tells him that the Turk had been expecting him to try that.

“If you or Rufus wanted to have a conversation, he could have used his damn PHS like everybody else,” the blond growls. 

“Yes, well, you have a habit of ignoring our calls,” Tseng answers, pulling up a chair in one fluid motion. Cloud, saying nothing, is almost impressed by the way the other man manages to avoid scraping the legs loudly across the floor. Primly seated, the raven-haired Turk steeples his fingers and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “We need to talk about your ex-SOLDIER friend, Zack…”

[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.

[infamousrevolutionary]