#[t]ang[s]anyue

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : 🌑 FOR TANGTANG - Send 🌑 to crawl into bed with my muse (accepting!)

Tang Sanyue’s a light sleeper, and so the sound of the keys in the lock and the movement in the hall already woke her. Cracks one eye open when the door creaks and a sliver of warm light falls through, and then immediately shuts it again, pressing down the lifting corners of her lips. Minutely, slowly scoots closer to what they’ve wordlessly and unanimously deemed his side of the bed - and then keeps absolutely still as he makes his way across the room, and as the bed shifts under the weight, and as he lifts the edge of the covers. And then she POUNCES.

Her arms loop over his neck, one leg hiked up to wrap around as she half drags him down into the covers - and she grins. Voice comes out a somewhat hoarse sing-song, touched with recent sleep, but she sounds pleased with herself nevertheless. “ - I got you.”

Rearranges them now that she’s got him where she wants him - sighing with contentment as she nudges her cold feet between his calves and laying herself out like a creature on a sun-warmed rock, closing her eyes again. “That took so long.” The complaint is a little muffled, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. It isn’t often that he’s caught up long enough that she’s fallen asleep by the time he gets back. “I’ve been waiting for my space heater all night.”

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : footsie for Tangtang!!! - ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS (ACCEPTING)

footsie, sender initiates footsie with receiver under the table.

The first thought that enters her mind is that his legs really are very long. She likes directing him to stretch over to the top cabinets in the morning as she leans against the counter and watches - but it's rare that she gets the chance to consider that he could probably touch the other back legs of her chair with his toes if he stretched far enough.

Her second thought, making subtle eye contact with him across the table and catching him looking at her in that way he sometimes does - the light catching in his eyes at that particular angle, brow slightly arched, in the demeanor that very much reminds her of a cat very proud of the fact that he has just knocked a vase off a table - is that TWO can play at this game. In fact, as a whole she quite likes playing games when it's with him - and so in the next moment Tang Sanyue toes off her fluffy slippers, and guiltlessly sticks her freezing feet into the careless entanglement of his legs.

He usually runs hotter than she does - a benefit, really, considering the block of ice she still somehow manages to be despite throwing goji berries and sometimes ginger even in her morning coffee. And - his legs are softer than the other parts of his body, ever so SLIGHTLY less rock-like and slightly more cushioned - which is to say, rather comfortable to rest against.

Traces the line of the muscle up absently, tilting her cheek with a casual hum into her palm. Looks at him, lip quirking up was she props a foot up, lightly, against his knee.

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : [ 08 ] for Tangtang! - INJURIES + AID (ACCEPTING)

[ 08 ] sender comes to receiver with a self-inflicted injury for which they provide no excuse.

Breathes out a sigh as she scoots herself over to where he's sitting on her rolling chair. It isn't exactly an UNCOMMON occurrence at this point, for him to turn up like this - in fact, it happens so regularly she's learned to put the covers she DOESN'T like on the chair he tends to occupy in case they need to be disposed of later. But, she supposes its better that he shows rather than hiding away somewhere until it's healed - if he even ENTERTAINS that thought one day, she'll have to think up more drastic measures.

For now, she grasps his hand and tugs his arm over between them, examining the primary laceration and the other littler cuts that are carelessly littered across skin.

His hand is warmer than hers, as it always seems to be, the heat of his palm familiarly comforting in spite of their present situation. She clicks her tongue. Nothing looks very deep, and so he won't need stitches this time, at least.

So Tang Sanyue doesn't get to it IMMEDIATELY - rather, cool fingertips trace lightly over the lines of distinctive tendons tensed in his forearm. Knows that he's probably looking at her, that she could probably catch him at it if she looks up in this moment - so, she knows that he's likely PAYING ATTENTION. "You know," Begins, voice low, and keeps her eyes on the work at hand instead, "Just because you heal FAST doesn't mean you should do whatever you want."

Though she's done stellar work on him - she has to admit that even without, he's what they might call a medical miracle. And - she doesn't like the habitual risks he's certainly to take with that particular card in his back pocket.

Reaches with one hand, half twisting back, to pick up the antiseptic and a roll of bandages on the small shelf beside her desk. The other continues to linger, fingertips resting innocently against the inner side of his wrist, and then she finally looks up at him. "...Doesn’t it hurt?”

[roscvcins]

Some Flower Gods / a prompt from @morrias (thank you for letting me make edits of my BABIES)

[roscvcins]

"It's just AN ACCIDENT - the latest replicant that came through was a little twitchy." They always are - never believing until they're out in the black off planet again that they might be safe. She doesn't blame them - all things considered, they can't have the best experience with people like her. "Believe me, I never thought a black market doctor was going to need a black market doctor EITHER." Her grandfather - when he ISN'T at a medical conference halfway across the galaxy - is usually the one to patch her up when her moonlighting goes wrong, and the one to give her the scolding of a lifetime. This month, though - she's been troubling him. Tanya makes a face as she settles down into the chair, holding out her arm with the hastily wrapped gash. Her tone is light, faintly mirthful, despite the injury. "...But it'd be TOO SAD if I had to sit and patch MYSELF up, don't you think?"

muse: rohan (he/him, mechanic slash black market doctor, once an biotech engineer) open to: anyone plot: idk man just give me a chance to write my tired man setting: cyberpunk dystopian

"thought i told you before that you can't keep showing up here bleeding all over my floor," if he recalls correctly -- and he's never wrong but god, he wishes he were -- it has been less than a month since he last saw the other, also bleeding. "i have a feeling sooner or later whatever shit you're involved in is going to get at me too." the complaints don't stop coming, especially when it's a familiar face, even though he's already clearing the table so he could get the necessary medical tools in place. "this is the last time." it's what he said last time too, but the point still stands.

[roscvcins]

idk if I've ever said this. out loud. or if it just like, exists in my brain and every time I doodle her but.

Tang Tang has a lil mole in the center of her right cheek.

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : Duende -Sylus for Tangtang! - Send me a word and a character/series/pairing and I will write a drabble (accepting!)

Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm.

The question has surfaced before. Though she's been spared the hounding of concerned relatives thus far seeing as there's her unmarried brother past the age of thirty on whom to offload the heat - she's certainly still been made to consider in some capacity, now and again, with what kind of person she might end up spending the rest of her life. Tang Sanyue has always known and been able to articulate exactly what she wanted, incredibly stubborn from a young age and quite capable of persuasion at length. And so it is perhaps uncharacteristic, that she had as of yet no detailed thoughts on this particular matter - and so one day's answer varied from the next.

There isn't a type, a metric that particularly interested her - and each would-be matchmaker left confused and blindsided in its wake. Through it all she hardly stopped to concern herself, unhurried and unbothered. It isn't that she means to be blithe, or even that she finds the idea of sitting down and imagining a perfect vision of a future tedious - only that she deems setting a strict criteria to be superfluous. Such a thing can hardly ever happen as one expects anyhow.

And Sylus certainly fits this assessment, by most accounts.

It's unusual, for her. He's certainly charming - but it's generally agreed upon by those who know her that she's a sensible young woman, and a sensible young woman would've heard alarm bells in her head from the very first moment. A sensible young woman did not steal away regularly in the middle of the night with a man who proved just as bloody and dangerous as his wanted posters imply - which is to say, as a development in her quiet little life, he'd been unforeseen, entirely unpredictable even to her own open mind, the last person she might have dreamt up for herself once upon a time.

She does so like being right.

But fearlessness is something born out of capacity, after all - during their first, less than auspicious meeting, Tang Sanyue thought perhaps overly confidently that on her ground, her odds were low but not impossible should it come down to a fight. More problematic had been the patient her hands were busy with in that moment - but comically in retrospect, when she had looked up mid-suture to meet crimson eyes that night, her first and instinctive reaction hadn't been fight or flight.

Rather, it was the unusual and unfounded daring - an intuition that she's already won the gamble - that had her ordering him out if he's dead set on undoing her work, since his business is no reason to tarnish the credibility of hers. The same unfounded daring that had her casually and increasingly familiarly needling him into position every time after that he'd presented himself to her to be worked upon at the clinic. The same unfounded daring that made her open the door before she even passes the whole of it for consideration through her brain when he has no reason to be at her front step other than to see her.

Out of the blue, he appears, and out of the blue, she decides on him.

It reminds her a little of a dance, a push and pull that draws them closer, closer. It's interesting how it seems to her that she always leaps a little too fast, agrees a little too soon, like by instinct and intuition her heart was made up.

She doesn't know if there are words to describe the reasons behind it. Only that she dares to sink into natural familiarity - to present a lollipop, a promise of dinner, a gentle scolding, a rap on the wrist - and Sylus dares to play along. Only that he dares to hold out his hand for her, looking directly with the faint amusement and challenge that seems to always glimmer in his eyes - the barrier between them long crossed, left behind - and she dares to take the silent invitation.

Or maybe, fate is a funny thing. It may be as simple as that.

There are idle days when she has a lazy hour or two to think about this, secretly awake after he tucks her up for a mandatory nap after she overdoes it at her night job. She may not be able to sneak away with her warden right next to her, but she's perfectly able to squint at the window and watch the glimmers of dust caught in the slanting afternoon sun. The niggling thought unable to leave her alone before she manages to turn it inside out. She could not have imagined him, and yet he expands and fills and takes over nevertheless. He takes up the space beside her as if he had always been the secret answer she had written down and merely covered up, hidden away until the moment of the reveal. She's resistant to overanalyzing something that doesn't need fixing, but it is curious and new to her.

And, Tang Sanyue knows - her grandfather asks difficult questions. When it comes time for him to meet her family, there will be a 'why,' after a scrutinizing once over, a question she'll finally have to give a satisfactory answer for. It does not, of course, occur to her in this moment that the trajectory of her course has irrevocably shifted to become a universal timeline in which Sylus is nearing permanence as a fixture in her life and she's taking him home, nor does it occur to her that she's already dedicating her tricks to making sure it goes well, her plots tinged with protectiveness. That even she, so avidly against overthinking, has fallen into the details, jumped the gun again.

Rather, she considers continuously, seriously - is it that she likes the unpredictable? In a pathology, in life - in him? Or, is it only that she has simply decided to trust him first?

He'd been magnetic from the start, yet contrarily reassuring, a paradoxical state that made her feel safe to go beyond simply being relaxed and fall straight into living a little dangerously. Maybe she trusts him before she really knows why - but it's never been unwarranted. She supposes in a way he did the same with her, and one day she'll get curious enough to wonder if he ever thought so much about it. But it's nice, when her head is so full, to rest her cheek against his arm and actually drift off, knowing that when she wakes up, it will be to the even breaths in whose soundtrack she had dreamed.

For every moment they spent being less than ordinary, there is also this. Him patiently pulling her from her papers and half-finished energy drinks. Wrapping her back into the cocoon when she inevitably overheats and kicks off the blanket only to become cold again in the middle of the night. The way his face relaxes and softens and smooths out from its usual decisive expressiveness in the event she wakes first and steals a few unnoticed minutes to trace the shapes of his features with her gaze. The smell of eggs in the morning - or at night, or whenever. Walking to the market at sunset and piling all the fruit from her haul into his arms with a grin and then having to roll her eyes back when he flexes said arms and looks at her in the particular way that she knows to be making his point. Getting wildly distracted in the kitchen.

The way she always feels courageous - even more than usual - in his presence.

She jokes more than once while stitching him up or scolding him to keep healthier hours that she likes that he behaves so well. But really, it's that in movement and in stillness, in the day or at night, whether it's bullets and bloodstains on the carpet or the warm glow of the entryway lights and the smell of coffee - Sylus never fails to meet her.

So, maybe, the question is wrong and it isn't "why." Maybe the answer she has turned over in her mind again and again is very simple when considered on its own: he will always give her the courage to take his hand, in any context and at any time, so - how can she not, without hesitation, every time?

(It isn't so unusual after all, she decides in the end.)

[roscvcins]

@sanctissimx asked : "there you are, darling" S.ylus for Tang Tang!!! - My muse is being hit on by someone they aren’t interested in and are visibly uncomfortable. Send, “there you are, darling” for your muse to come and wrap their arm around mine’s waist to guide them away. (ACCEPTING)

Even before she hears his voice, Tang Sanyue knows it's him - he is, after all, a PRESENCE, no matter where he chooses to appear. Like a trust fall, therefore, she relaxes when he solidifies into her space, and takes immediate advantage of his stature, hiding her hand conveniently behind his back - along with, of course, the glinting silver needle that was already poised between her fingertips. In the same motion as they pivot, she turns her nose up and makes an exaggerated and perhaps childish face of triumph over his shoulder at the peeved but now subdued looking man as she's steered down the hall.

" - If you showed up ANY LATER," Turns back to him in a moment, flash of silver arcing through the air as the needle spins between her fingertips, and she tells him, casually, "He'd have lost the feeling in that arm for the next eight or so hours." The would be weapon at the crime scene disappears back into her bag with a flick of her wrist in a moment. "So - if you ask me, he should probably be grateful you've a habit of APPEARING OUT OF NOWHERE."

And if she's mildly CURIOUS that he's found her when he isn't in need of stitches in at least one place, in an area far outside the bounds of their usual intersections, and at so crucial a last second in time - well, her best trait, she thinks, is never overthinking - so for now she'll chalk it up to him conveniently not being busy, and her areas of activity being conveniently linear.

"As for MY thanks..." Steps out in front as they round the corner, dancing backward and turning to face him,"...Have you had time to eat yet?" Hums in consideration, her whole body tilting to one side as she cocks her head decisively. "Actually, NEVER MIND - even if you've already had dinner, you can sit with me - and I'll get you dessert."

Holds out her hand in invitation, palm forward as she wiggles extended fingers, a sliver of mischief glimmering in eyes. "So - what do you say, darling?"

[roscvcins]

@kckuhaku asked : " the fucker deserved it " - maddie to tang tang 😌 - BLOOD, BLOOD, GALLONS OF THE STUFF (ACCEPTING)

It's a karmic happening as much as sharing a backyard fence with a not-so-legal vigilante as a not-so-legal surgeon, so - as a whole, for the complex web of “morality” they’ve built for themselves, it checks out. “That smoke really is SOMETHING ELSE, though. Is it just me or are you ALSO craving barbecue?”

Maybe it’s a crass suggestion but crime is, after all - hungry work, and Tang Sanyue has never for a day in her life let anything hinder her from EATING WELL. Leans up casually against the wall in the back, sucker tucked into her cheek like a HAMSTER - perhaps a little reminiscent of the old ladies who would converge on the street after dark with their eagerness for exchanging yard gossip. “ - You got any more of those fuckers to get through? Fancy a break? I know a new izakaya that just opened up down the street. Great grilled squid.”

[roscvcins]

@cardiolog1st / Continued from (x)

Pokes the straw through the hole with the precision of a woman who spends her days sticking acupuncture needles into people - and pulls a face at him. "So what if I am? Don't tell me you're too old for juice." Nobody is too old for juice, not even him and his serious face, serious aura, old beyond his age seeming self. Sticks out her chin at the drink in his hand. “ - I definitely poisoned it - with lemons." If he looked at the packaging he would see the picture of the yellow fruit in question, hiding JUST behind the apple - Tang Sanyue takes a satisfied sip of her own regular, SWEETENED apple juice. Crosses her arms, pronouncing with a particular glimmer in her eyes, " - No sweets for rivals."

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : Goldilocks - tangtang 😉 - Send “Goldilocks” for my muse’s reaction to finding your muse asleep in my muse’s bed. (ACCEPTING!)

The spare keys and door code were a formality. He had blanket permission to APPEAR at her apartment whenever he liked long before that, and the security guard that dozed at the small booth office outside the building near the parking lot entrance knew of him as "that eccentric young lady's equally eccentric young man" for even longer. Still - it always IGNITES the part of Tang Sanyue that's looking to make mischief to see his shoes unexpectedly by the shoe rack, his jacket haphazardly hanging from the back of a chair when she comes through the door - a pleasant surprise to pay forward.

And so she toes her own shoes off beside his QUIETLY, closing the door with equal care. Hangs her bag slowly on the coat hanger, half crouching as she tiptoes across the room. Today there's no low thrum of music or permeating smell of something cooking in the kitchen - only her bedroom door is left half ajar. The hunt ends prematurely when she pokes her head through the door and sees the the familiar figure, afternoon light fragmented through the blinds dragging across his face.

She holds up her phone, fondness momentarily suppressing the amusement, and takes a picture. And then, NATURALLY, she pounces.

The bed dips with her weight when she tosses herself onto HER side. She first reaches over to poke his cheek gently, and when that doesn't seem sufficient, reaches with both hands to hold his face. Leans close to kiss him, suppressing quiet laugher. "...Hello sleeping beauty in my bed." And then she sinks her teeth into his bottom lip. "That enough to wake you up yet?"

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : "Unless you're choosin' me." - Sylus - YOU'RE LOSING ME (ACCEPTING)

At a glance, it's easy to take it for ARROGANCE - she did note at the start of their interview, unfortunately, that his face lends itself to that kind of thing. But Tang Sanyue recognizes it for what it IS: a man with whom she is finding it is VERY EASY to do business.

Knowing what one wants and having thought through what one can offer does, after all, make things much easier. Thoroughly understanding what SHE wants as well, in the short time they've spent on dinner - oddly, perhaps it doesn't scare her, the way it might someone else. Rather, she finds in it an alluring curiosity.

Of all her options, he's inarguably the best one. Or, at the very least, the most interesting one.

"...Then, you're ON." She never thinks too hard about this sort of thing - she'll find out as it is, and she thinks, in all likelihood it will be ENTERTAINING. Tilts her head with a grin, and gathers up the paperwork between them neatly. "Tomorrow we'll take some backdated photos and see how we look...ring shopping first?" Hums, and then nods. "Ring shopping first. Brunch is on me."

Plans made, she extends her hand across the table toward him and wiggles her fingers, eyes sparkling. "You may now shake on it with the bride."

[roscvcins]

@kckuhaku asked : ✎ for tang tang ! - MOODBOARD MEME (ACCEPTING)

send ✎ ( pencil ) and I'll make a fashion moodboard for my muse

it's truly moments like this that i'm like "ah, she dresses like three different people" THERE'S LOGIC HERE THOUGH MAYBE...I PROMISE....

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : txt: imma kiss u - for TANGTANG!!! - OOPS, WRONG NUMBER (ACCEPTING)

[ contact : mr. knifecat 🔪😺❤️ ] : txt: imma kiss u

txt: ??? txt: where's your face then??? txt: [smh.jpg] txt: men and their promises

[roscvcins]

@misericordiis asked : ❛ let’s do something about that mouth of yours. ❜ for tangtang - DARKER VIBES (ACCEPTING)

" - Oh?" Her face is turned first this way and then that way in inspective contemplation, and the corner of her lip pulls up uncontrollably into a smile from beneath where his thumb rests against her skin, her chin caught between his fingers. In a moment she leans still further forward into his grasp, resting her face against his palm. Arches a brow dramatically, in the particular way that he ought certainly be getting used to as a marker of when she's feeling SPECIFICALLY impish, and points out, not missing a beat, " - You love it."

And he does. Her dazzling attitude and razor sharp tongue, in particular.

"...But," Draws out the syllable purposely, voice low, her eyes laughing, "If you have something in mind, I'm certainly happy to hear it out." For her part - she can certainly think of a few things herself, some of which may spell...pleasant trouble.

Presses a light, fleeting kiss to his fingertips - and then, with a deliberate wink, bites down gently on his finger, and leaves the faintest ring of teeth marks around his first knuckle. Pulls back - satisfied - "In fact, I think you'll find that I'm very cooperative. You've been so good for me after all."

[roscvcins]

PATRON SAINT OF SOMETHING?

PATRON SAINT OF BLOOD patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what bleeds.

tagged by : @misericordiis tagging : you lovelies reading this <3