"True words are like bullets"
||Roleplay and ask blog for Seimei from Loveless.||
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An Anon asked for me to list some but Tumblr wasn’t letting me answer the ask? Anyway-
Seimei looks over, seemingly vaguely surprised at his younger brother’s question. Ritsuka never usually asked questions about ‘the incident’, only ever bringing it up when Misaki had an episode- but, that was more about asking how he changed and not why.
“We don’t really know Ritsuka, you just woke up one day and you weren’t able to remember a thing.”
“It doesn’t matter what the reason for it was, you’re still my Ritsuka. Don’t let Mother make you believe anything different. Okay?”
Seimei’s attention shifted to the familiar kitten meowing in front of him.
“Gomyon?” He leaned down to lightly rub behind its ear and feel its replying purr reverberate on the pads of his fingers. Gomyon was his favorite from the litter; ‘Four’.
//Thank you for taking the time to write me such a flattering message, Anon. I can’t return your feelings, but knowing that someone else enjoys my writing that much is a great motivator nonetheless. I’ll try to complete some of my drafts laying around soon-!
//! I love reccing music-
Still no words, even though Soubi did wish to ask Seimei something. He dropped his eyes to the floor, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t want to speak, but it wasn’t as if he’d be able to hold off for much longer before he was absolutely forced to open his mouth and say something. He was going to delay it until then, of course.
Seimei hummed thoughtfully, understanding, and then his hum exhaled into a short scoff. He was through with repeating himself.
The Sacrifice reached out and gave Soubi a swift blow across the face, bruising his cheek with the back of his hand. Being touched by Seimei was always unsettling, sharp pins and needles in Soubi’s very nerves, but this was nothing short of jarring. He hit Soubi’s face, his skin. But then again, it was cold out and the eared man happened to have gloves on; Soubi’s unclean flesh wouldn’t hurt him.
The worst part about it was perhaps that Seimei’s skin never once grazed Soubi’s. Rather, it was his glove, the warm leather hitting him hard across the cheek. Never his skin, as Soubi was ‘dirty’, and ‘unclean’ and unfit for Seimei to lay his hands on, not even for such a punishment. And a small punishment this was—it was hardly anything, really. Just a backhand, right across his cheek, and though it hurt, it was the minimal amount of damage Seimei could do. Soubi could imagine things much worse. No, not just imagine—he’d experienced much, much worse, and this was just a reminder of that.
He stumbled backwards a bit from being hit, though quickly regaining his balance. Again, he dropped his gaze to the ground, finally, finally opening his mouth to say something. His question. “Ritsuka…” He tried, having trouble getting the words out properly. “Ritsuka—How’s Ritsuka doing?”
The air around them immediately dropped a few degrees; not a good omen at all. When Soubi hesitantly opened his eyes again, he could see for himself the ice settling over Seimei’s expression.
“Ritsuka? He’s none of your concern anymore.”
The pressure, the painful, terrifying itch invisibly burning into Soubi’s neck wounds were successful in further crumbling whatever courage the blond had to have mustered up to speak. Then, more out of apathy than mercy, it was gone as fast as it had arrived.
“Nisei’s watching him for me and will notify me immediately if anything of importance happens. Though, my brother is probably still crying because you betrayed him.” Seimei stared straight through Soubi, his usually unreadable face giving way to one of thinly veiled disgust.
“And what did I tell you about asking me questions? I think it’s been too long since you’ve been punished. I’ll fix that when we get back.”
“…”
“…”
“What do you want, Soubi? You have my permission, speak.”
Soubi didn’t, at first. Hands at his sides, looking directly at Seimei, he gave what was, to him, an outstanding show of defiance towards Seimei.
Seimei’s eyes narrowed, expression blackening from annoyed to angered in a few seconds flat.
“I said speak, Soubi. Are you going to disobey me?” There was a telling edge to his tone, warning him.
Still no words, even though Soubi did wish to ask Seimei something. He dropped his eyes to the floor, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t want to speak, but it wasn’t as if he’d be able to hold off for much longer before he was absolutely forced to open his mouth and say something. He was going to delay it until then, of course.
Seimei hummed thoughtfully, understanding, and then his hum exhaled into a short scoff. He was through with repeating himself.
The Sacrifice reached out and gave Soubi a swift blow across the face, bruising his cheek with the back of his hand. Being touched by Seimei was always unsettling, sharp pins and needles in Soubi’s very nerves, but this was nothing short of jarring. He hit Soubi’s face, his skin. But then again, it was cold out and the eared man happened to have gloves on; Soubi’s unclean flesh wouldn’t hurt him.
“…”
“…”
“What do you want, Soubi? You have my permission, speak.”
Soubi didn’t, at first. Hands at his sides, looking directly at Seimei, he gave what was, to him, an outstanding show of defiance towards Seimei.
Seimei’s eyes narrowed, expression blackening from annoyed to angered in a few seconds flat.
“I said speak, Soubi. Are you going to disobey me?” There was a telling edge to his tone, warning him.
