Work Text:
Line after line of hanging men, dripping blood, soaking the floor with their filth. It smelled not just of death but of agony. As if the bodies themselves would cry out on the outrageous way they’ve been treated; he could hear their silent shrieks fill the air.
Qi Rong liked the bodies. He liked the way they swayed back and forth. He liked their blood ruining the ground.
He enjoyed the taste of it. It wasn’t sweet, it was full of metal and hate. Just how he liked it.
People who would insult him, scream at him, disrespect him, were all better off as nothing. He’d consume the living, it was only fair.
He looked into the crowd of people… he swore a familiar face was among his latest batch. He paid it little mind, leaning back into his throne.
*
Xie Lian felt his stomach flip, the stench of rotting and burnt flesh filling his nostrils and overwhelming his senses. He’d always… hated death. Every century he lived through the more he saw of it. War brought on more, as did cruelty.
He pushed down all the memories trying to focus on the present.
It was revolting to watch the man in the mask yell and curse obscenities. It was worse thinking of his eating habits, while a cannibal ghost was not uncommon, it was one thing to know they devoured humans and another to witness it. Its hunt was on full display, whatever parts it didn’t want to eat (or was saving for later) in clear sight so its next prey would quiver in fear.
Qi Rong It called itself. Certainly, it could not be the one he’d known in life? It’d been so long ago…
Ah, but Xie Lian was always so unlucky. He really wasn’t so surprised when his little cousin was revealed; dead, green, and just as vulgar as he once was.
*
He was tied up, left in a damn temple (to a god who did not deserve one), and his mind was focused on violence. If he could, he’d tear away from these binds and strangle Xie Lian himself.
Oh, Cousin Crown Prince himself. A forsaken god.
Little Prince Xiao Jing. A Calamity.
Their family really was something, wasn’t it?
Once adorned with jewels; now blood was their only wealth.
*
“You act so much better than me,” Xie Lian was opting to ignore Qi Rong. He could go grab San Lang, let the man put an end to it, but really he didn’t want to bother him.
“Are you listening to me? You fucker! You’ve killed just as many people as I have! You’ve led people to thei-”
It was so very hard to ignore him. Best to shut him up with a quick shove into a bucket of water and watch his squirming.
He no longer considered himself to be very violent but there was something about the other that just made his blood boil over.
When he let him go, he watched those green eyes narrow and glare at him. He tried to scootch himself away and press himself into a corner.
“If you behave, I’ll make you something for lunch,” He promised.
“That’s my reward?” He muttered, “I think you just want an excuse to put your hands around my neck again.”
At least he was… quieter. Even if his burning hate-filled glare said a thousand words.
*
The little pudgy face was staring up at him, hands balled into fists. As a young boy he had this perpetual look of confused innocence, but so quickly he became so unruly… so violent…
“You really shouldn’t fight with the other boys, Qi Rong,” Xie Lian told him,taking the small chance he’d listen to him. “Look at that, you’ve made a mess of your robes. What will my Mother think?”
“Will you tell Auntie?” He asked, eyes widened “Will she… will she hit me Cousin Crown Prince? Or will Uncle?”
He was too shocked to answer. Instead letting the boy sit on his lap, looking at him with such awe.
He wondered if anyone could get stains of red out of a green robe... or a white one.