demonhuntingprincess13 asked: "How have you been,Tseng?*smiles*"

His head canted to the side, silver-grey eyes catching the sight of a face long familiar. With a quiet blink, the man let a small chuckle hum in the back of his throat, the edge of his lips turning upwards in a fleeting smile.

"It’s been some time," he greeted, lids lifting to again reveal the crescent gleam of mercury. "I’ve been occupied and tethered more than I’d care to admit, but in regards to my health, that has not faltered." There was the usual twisted edge of humor giving wryness to his words, but his eyes were warm.

"It is good to see you again. I hope you’ve been well."




amixofwords:

half the world is
                        d e a d
and
you’ve been
                  a l o n e
for just as long
                                            you don’t mind, really.
but then you meet
                           him
and the thought of being alone 
a g a i n 
especially without
                          him 
hurts
        more
                than
                       anything

Lids fall, the closing of the door in finality, silver gaze locked away, silence alone privy to his thoughts. “I am not leaving.”

(via apathetic-ruler)




suitlessease:

Well, everything you asked for was handwritten, so no long typed texts for you. As to the “short story” you asked me to write for you, apologies if it seems a little messy or scatter-brained on occasion. I literally wrote it without any planning at all; just sat down and started writing and this is what it became. Even so, I hope you find some pleasure in it. And please let me know if you have difficulty with my handwriting. I will type it all up for you, if you’d like me to. Otherwise~ I hope you enjoy it~ And thanks for asking. <3 This was a lot of fun to do for both you and Cloud~

[ooc] Another transferal of information. Mun-related portions aside, this is being allocated here because of the short story held in the last two scanned pictures. The rest will be a boon alone, I fear. *Chuckles*




suitlessease:

☮ : Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

So now on to the other part of this answer, from the other prompt this symbol applied to. (Also, as usual, my answers are long.)

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[ooc] A transferal of information from my personal. To those interested in some headcanons concerning Tseng’s home, this is a read for you.




"Heroes aren’t always the ones who win, they’re the ones who lose sometimes. But they keep fighting, they keep coming back. They don’t give up. That’s what makes heroes."

- Clary Fray; City of Heavenly Fire. (via nephilimdaily)

(via sanguinesaint)





 betrayedasgardianking asked: "Congratulations! You just won the “Quality Role-Player Award” today! This is proof that you have exhibited exemplary skills in the field of Role-Play. Copy and paste this to other RP blogs that you think are quality~"

[ooc] You’re one to talk, Loki. Those of you interested in the Avengers fandom, this roleplayer is a long-time friend of mine and an absolute plot-demon. I highly recommend hitting them up if you’re interested in any crossovers or AUs, depending on your fandom and character.




 turkleader asked: "Regarding your father, I'm curious to know a lot of things. Your thoughts on him as a child, what it was like when you first learned you would be under my care and tutelage, what it was like when your mother disappeared from out of your life and what were your thoughts towards your father then. It is something that I don't believe I could hear enough about, if you would be willing to share what you've gone through with me."

apathetic-ruler:

Under the cut for long, domestic violence, really crappy home life… and this doesn’t even cover the teen years :D

I tried to convey mixed feelings. Rufus doesn’t want anyone knowing how much his dad means. He justifiably hates his Father. Yet, love is a tricky thing. He can’t escape wanting to be validated. To prove himself worthy. The two men were too different to ever understand each other. 

They both are out to cause pain for someone they care about. Yet— the heartbreak is really that they both believe it’s the only way things can be between them. 

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[ooc: To those who would spare a moment, this is a headcanon worth investing in. One of duality and life-long struggle that both defines Rufus Shinra as a character, giving him purpose, and reflects a very human aspect of his youth—laying roots from where the cold identity blossomed later in life. It’ll be a controversial piece to some, but profound and believable for a man whose character development, it is thought, came very early on in life.

[My thanks for putting up with the ooc posts on the dash.]



An Announcement: Returning 

To those who have stayed with me from the beginning, to those who have come in the interim when I’ve been long absent, silent even longer, and to those who have reposed with me for any time along their journeys, I wanted to give a humble apology. I have been away by choice and necessity both, but I wish to return and reorganize this blog, in one minor way, and in one larger way.

Read More




It continues to feel strange. Things have changed so drastically from when I first began RPing Tseng. It&#8217;s been almost&#8230; seven, eight years now? I&#8217;m still not used to this.
What lures the crowds? What instigates the prodding, insistent fingers? Is it a body? Is it perhaps a face? Is it the verbose and poignant subtleties in a chance emotion let loose from its confines? Do you see my face only, and conjure by my words an image other than what I am?
I do not trust the crowds. I am baffled by the masses.
Is it my eyes? I will stab them out. Is it my face? I will enclose it in a coffin of gruesomeness and disgusting mars. Is it my body? I will destroy it&#8212; off a cliff brink or by the fangs of beasts still less savage than you. I will become cripple. I will become harsh. I will be cold. I will show you no kindness. I will give not an inch.
I will betray you. I will curse your name and spit on your loves. I will rend you from me like the sun tears darkness from the sky at its rise.
I want none of this. None of you! I want no glory. I want no praise! What I will have is not in your power to grant, nor will it ever be so! It is not yours to give!
&#8230;why do people &#8220;love&#8221; Tseng?
I came into him during a time when his name was a curse. He was known solely by the act of slapping Aeris as Avalanche watched, as she attempted to reassure them that Marlene was safe. He commanded her silence. He was unaffected by the falling of the Plate. He did nothing to stay the actions of Rufus Shinra, for all his supposed &#8220;influence&#8221; over the man. He stopped no injury; never took a bullet for someone else. He was cruel, bitter, and cold.
People spoke of him with disdain; with hatred and curled lips; teeth and mouths set in a natural snarl of aggression.
He was not a man to be admired, understood, or cared for. He is a monster. In every right, he is the lowest piece of filth. No one needed to think it over a second time. This was reality; this was fact. No one questioned what was established; the truth was obvious.
In those early years, before he was &#8220;attractive,&#8221; I heard only one shockingly passive comment about him. The speaker was hesitant&#8212;their very words were slow, cautious&#8212;as they said that Tseng wasn&#8217;t &#8220;that bad&#8221;. That was all. All the kindness and benefit-of-the-doubt given him in a lifetime was this: &#8220;Tseng isn&#8217;t that bad. There are people who are still worse than him.&#8221; And yes, there were people who were worse.
That doesn&#8217;t mean Tseng should be let off the hook.
He let lives slip through his hands countless times. His personality has been rigid, unchanging, icy. The cold will never leave his heart entirely. Nothing can convince it to leave his mind or his body. He is a statue. What goes on inside will never change his actions.
He will always hurt those around him. It is inevitable. He cannot commit. He cannot aspire. He cannot fulfill.
Shinra is dead. The Turks are meant to make a living by whatever means, and eventually they will die their own deaths&#8212;by whatever means or times they choose. He will do the same.
The world should have no place for him. People will not forget so easily. That suit killed hundreds of thousands. That suit waded in sewers and blood, then dared to walk amongst them, careless of what its presence meant for those tortured by the filth&#8212;the lives&#8212;carried on its cloth. He is an atrocity. He is not even from the two main continents, but a foreign man from foreign soils; a desecration of both his homeland and the new one he chose to defile.
He is a murderer and traitor, arrogant and unfeeling.
Why do you love him? What petty reasons will you give me for &#8220;caring&#8221; for him? Are they real? Or if I cut up his face and destroyed his bones so that he was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, scarred so no hair grew, mutilated so his features were unrecognizable&#8212;
Would you still care for him then?
I dare you to tell me yes. You know yourself to be a liar. No one would care for him.
Come talk to me twenty years from now, when I&#8217;m still writing him, and tell me THEN that you love him, and not the latest fad that&#8217;s gripped your fickle hearts and flattered minds.
I believe no one who does not stand the test of time. And you will be tested. Life ensures it.
So when you all come to me, wish to speak with me, it is hard for me to take it at face value. I have grown up in another time. It is not a matter of &#8220;getting used to it.&#8221; It&#8217;s a matter of facts and realities. I am a bad guy. It is my role in life.  I have chosen to walk this path, and I am fine in walking it. Do not ignore what I have done. Do not forget the blood shed by my actions.
Remember the hatred. Remember the anger. Remember that I am a monster worse than fiends that roam the wild. I walk in your skin, yet I have hunted you before, and have had a part in your near and direct ends. I am not someone to be trusted. I am not someone to be approached. It is better if you leave me alone, and count me a shadow to be hated. I&#8217;d rather that. I&#8217;d rather you leave me alone. But if you do choose to come to me: come to me with weapons and accusations; come to me with the intent to wound and kill. Do not come with kind words. Come with venom and blade. Commit to your hatred of me. Then, when you act upon it, do so without faltering. If you choose to come, come in this way. It&#8217;s better as such; for everyone.

It continues to feel strange. Things have changed so drastically from when I first began RPing Tseng. It’s been almost… seven, eight years now? I’m still not used to this.

What lures the crowds? What instigates the prodding, insistent fingers? Is it a body? Is it perhaps a face? Is it the verbose and poignant subtleties in a chance emotion let loose from its confines? Do you see my face only, and conjure by my words an image other than what I am?

I do not trust the crowds. I am baffled by the masses.

Is it my eyes? I will stab them out. Is it my face? I will enclose it in a coffin of gruesomeness and disgusting mars. Is it my body? I will destroy it— off a cliff brink or by the fangs of beasts still less savage than you. I will become cripple. I will become harsh. I will be cold. I will show you no kindness. I will give not an inch.

I will betray you. I will curse your name and spit on your loves. I will rend you from me like the sun tears darkness from the sky at its rise.

I want none of this. None of you! I want no glory. I want no praise! What I will have is not in your power to grant, nor will it ever be so! It is not yours to give!

…why do people “love” Tseng?

I came into him during a time when his name was a curse. He was known solely by the act of slapping Aeris as Avalanche watched, as she attempted to reassure them that Marlene was safe. He commanded her silence. He was unaffected by the falling of the Plate. He did nothing to stay the actions of Rufus Shinra, for all his supposed “influence” over the man. He stopped no injury; never took a bullet for someone else. He was cruel, bitter, and cold.

People spoke of him with disdain; with hatred and curled lips; teeth and mouths set in a natural snarl of aggression.

He was not a man to be admired, understood, or cared for. He is a monster. In every right, he is the lowest piece of filth. No one needed to think it over a second time. This was reality; this was fact. No one questioned what was established; the truth was obvious.

In those early years, before he was “attractive,” I heard only one shockingly passive comment about him. The speaker was hesitant—their very words were slow, cautious—as they said that Tseng wasn’t “that bad”. That was all. All the kindness and benefit-of-the-doubt given him in a lifetime was this: “Tseng isn’t that bad. There are people who are still worse than him.” And yes, there were people who were worse.

That doesn’t mean Tseng should be let off the hook.

He let lives slip through his hands countless times. His personality has been rigid, unchanging, icy. The cold will never leave his heart entirely. Nothing can convince it to leave his mind or his body. He is a statue. What goes on inside will never change his actions.

He will always hurt those around him. It is inevitable. He cannot commit. He cannot aspire. He cannot fulfill.

Shinra is dead. The Turks are meant to make a living by whatever means, and eventually they will die their own deaths—by whatever means or times they choose. He will do the same.

The world should have no place for him. People will not forget so easily. That suit killed hundreds of thousands. That suit waded in sewers and blood, then dared to walk amongst them, careless of what its presence meant for those tortured by the filth—the lives—carried on its cloth. He is an atrocity. He is not even from the two main continents, but a foreign man from foreign soils; a desecration of both his homeland and the new one he chose to defile.

He is a murderer and traitor, arrogant and unfeeling.

Why do you love him? What petty reasons will you give me for “caring” for him? Are they real? Or if I cut up his face and destroyed his bones so that he was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, scarred so no hair grew, mutilated so his features were unrecognizable—

Would you still care for him then?

I dare you to tell me yes. You know yourself to be a liar. No one would care for him.

Come talk to me twenty years from now, when I’m still writing him, and tell me THEN that you love him, and not the latest fad that’s gripped your fickle hearts and flattered minds.

I believe no one who does not stand the test of time. And you will be tested. Life ensures it.

So when you all come to me, wish to speak with me, it is hard for me to take it at face value. I have grown up in another time. It is not a matter of “getting used to it.” It’s a matter of facts and realities. I am a bad guy. It is my role in life.  I have chosen to walk this path, and I am fine in walking it. Do not ignore what I have done. Do not forget the blood shed by my actions.

Remember the hatred. Remember the anger. Remember that I am a monster worse than fiends that roam the wild. I walk in your skin, yet I have hunted you before, and have had a part in your near and direct ends. I am not someone to be trusted. I am not someone to be approached. It is better if you leave me alone, and count me a shadow to be hated. I’d rather that. I’d rather you leave me alone. But if you do choose to come to me: come to me with weapons and accusations; come to me with the intent to wound and kill. Do not come with kind words. Come with venom and blade. Commit to your hatred of me. Then, when you act upon it, do so without faltering. If you choose to come, come in this way. It’s better as such; for everyone.



Text Messages to Hojo [Crimson-Sun] 

∞ — Altered State of Mind Text

[text] f I wake up with gilllsa nd glowing eyes tomorrow, Professor, i swear to Shiva I’ll punch you wheter not you have glasses.Then erase your entire database. [/text]

[text] And the back-ups [/text]

[ooc: I could see this type of talk turning into habit. Even when off the pain meds.]

# — Angry Text

[text] The Ancient has been acquired. Take care what you do to her, Professor. She is more precious than your experiments. If you ruin her, the President will not be the only one seeking retribution. [/text]

♦ — Rushed Text

[text] There’s been an outbreak of chimeric monsters within the basement levels of Headquarters. One of the beasts has been subdued. A Turk is on their way to your labs right now to escort you to where we have the monster held. The President would like your analysis of the species. Bring what you need. It’s not an easy beast to move and the President is demanding answers asap. [/text]

x — Secret Text

[text] Is there no way to reverse this? Is there no way to return him to himself? You are his tender and his father. IS THERE A WAY? Or is he… truly lost. Tell me, Hojo. [/text]

[ooc: I thought there might be many ways this could go. And though it’s a hopeless pursuit, it’d ultimately be an interesting exchange to find Tseng driven to.]

♥ — Regular Text

[text] The specimens you requested have been obtained. They are en route to be delivered early this afternoon. [/text]

* — Early Morning Text

[text] How is he? [/text]

[ooc: Asking after Sephiroth, I imagine.]

XD — “I wish you just saw that!” Text

[text] I’m assuming the reason you were not present for the board meeting has something to do with the group of Cripshay the executives found underneath the conference table. They were discovered when one attempted to take a bite out of Palmer. I’m sure you would have enjoyed the spectacle. Regardless, as you aren’t answering your phone, this message is to inform you that the meeting has been rescheduled to later in the afternoon. You are expected to attend. [/text]