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fandomweekly2024-12-16 09:47 pm
quicksilverfox3) wrote in fandomweekly2024-12-16 09:47 pm
Entry tags:
[#242] one more (SVSSS)
Theme Prompt: Tragedy
Title: one more
Fandom: The Scum Villain Self-Saving System
Rating/Warnings: Teen
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 651
Summary: Shen Jiu is no stranger to hunger, but he will do nearly anything when Yue Qi is sick and it's his fault.
Another shuttered stall, the merchandise swept into a basket and spirited away by the fleeing merchant along with the typical crowds that would throng the streets. Shen Jiu crouches next to the feeble structure, peering beneath it all the same. There had been food here, mere minutes before, pulp ground into the dirt and the grit faintly sticky as Shen Jiu scrambles for the larger pieces to hug them close to his chest.
Not enough, never enough.
The next stall is the same, a few scraps that would barely provide a mouthful but Shen Jiu bloodies his fingers clawing through the stones all the same. He barely remembers what it’s like to have a full belly anymore, if he ever did, but the gnawing emptiness barely scratches the notches carved into his ribs. They’re less than dirt themselves, cast aside, unnoticed except for the commodities desperate flesh could provide a wandering eye, a lingering touch. Sickness is always a risk for creatures such as them, the starving angles of Shen Jiu and the blunt press of Yue Qi, and it is devouring Yue Qi whole.
Shen Jiu’s lip curls back over his teeth as he slips from the underside of a stall, keeping to the huddled walls of the buildings lining the square. The rain doesn’t stop, falling like the soaked linens strung between houses in the alleyways, Shen Jiu’s hair plastered to his skull and his rags clinging to his thin frame. He focuses on his meagre haul clutched to his chest instead of that, a chill skittering down his spine as an unwanted touch would, straightening despite himself.
If he had been quicker, there would be food for them both.
He hadn’t wanted to leave Yue Qi for even a moment so Shen Jiu had blocked out the world, curled on top of [Yue Qingyuan]’s chest and glared at the legs that passed by their alcove in front of a disused building. Like that, he could feel the pitiful hiss in Yue Qi’s breath, the hitch of the crest and the deafening nothingness at the end of every exhale. If Yue Qi dies…
Shen Jiu swallows back non-existent bile, the tang sharp over his tongue. If his Qi-ge dies, then Shen Jiu will burn the world with his fury, as ineffectual as it is, as he is.
He has no influence, nothing to his name except that it’s his, not even the beginnings of a core that would allow him to become a cultivator — whatever fragments of power exist in his veins are shredded beyond repair and he can barely remember what it felt like when he had been whole — but Yue Qi is different. He is everything Shen Jiu could never be and yet, the other boy loves him regardless of his bitter tongue and his fury.
When the rain began, Shen Jiu fled from their sanctuary, stumbling out onto the street with a scream locked behind his teeth. If he hadn’t hesitated to leave Yue Qi, then they would have more than grit and stones to try and fill their bellies with.
A third stall and Shen Jiu drops to his knees, ducking beneath the wooden partition. Something hisses in his face and he freezes, his thoughts shuddering to a discordant stop. The cat is small, a sharp soaked noise that hunches over the half-eaten carcass of a fish. It’s the smell that hits him first from this close, a cloying waft of salt and decay, and Shen Jiu wants it. He moves closer, his lip drawn back over his teeth, and stretches out towards the cat as it watches him, the tip of it’s tail lashing back and forth.
Shen Jiu bleeds beneath that stall and receives nothing in return.
He stumbles as he makes his way back into the alley, falling to his knees next to Yue Qi. Still breathing. Still alive. For now.
Title: one more
Fandom: The Scum Villain Self-Saving System
Rating/Warnings: Teen
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 651
Summary: Shen Jiu is no stranger to hunger, but he will do nearly anything when Yue Qi is sick and it's his fault.
Another shuttered stall, the merchandise swept into a basket and spirited away by the fleeing merchant along with the typical crowds that would throng the streets. Shen Jiu crouches next to the feeble structure, peering beneath it all the same. There had been food here, mere minutes before, pulp ground into the dirt and the grit faintly sticky as Shen Jiu scrambles for the larger pieces to hug them close to his chest.
Not enough, never enough.
The next stall is the same, a few scraps that would barely provide a mouthful but Shen Jiu bloodies his fingers clawing through the stones all the same. He barely remembers what it’s like to have a full belly anymore, if he ever did, but the gnawing emptiness barely scratches the notches carved into his ribs. They’re less than dirt themselves, cast aside, unnoticed except for the commodities desperate flesh could provide a wandering eye, a lingering touch. Sickness is always a risk for creatures such as them, the starving angles of Shen Jiu and the blunt press of Yue Qi, and it is devouring Yue Qi whole.
Shen Jiu’s lip curls back over his teeth as he slips from the underside of a stall, keeping to the huddled walls of the buildings lining the square. The rain doesn’t stop, falling like the soaked linens strung between houses in the alleyways, Shen Jiu’s hair plastered to his skull and his rags clinging to his thin frame. He focuses on his meagre haul clutched to his chest instead of that, a chill skittering down his spine as an unwanted touch would, straightening despite himself.
If he had been quicker, there would be food for them both.
He hadn’t wanted to leave Yue Qi for even a moment so Shen Jiu had blocked out the world, curled on top of [Yue Qingyuan]’s chest and glared at the legs that passed by their alcove in front of a disused building. Like that, he could feel the pitiful hiss in Yue Qi’s breath, the hitch of the crest and the deafening nothingness at the end of every exhale. If Yue Qi dies…
Shen Jiu swallows back non-existent bile, the tang sharp over his tongue. If his Qi-ge dies, then Shen Jiu will burn the world with his fury, as ineffectual as it is, as he is.
He has no influence, nothing to his name except that it’s his, not even the beginnings of a core that would allow him to become a cultivator — whatever fragments of power exist in his veins are shredded beyond repair and he can barely remember what it felt like when he had been whole — but Yue Qi is different. He is everything Shen Jiu could never be and yet, the other boy loves him regardless of his bitter tongue and his fury.
When the rain began, Shen Jiu fled from their sanctuary, stumbling out onto the street with a scream locked behind his teeth. If he hadn’t hesitated to leave Yue Qi, then they would have more than grit and stones to try and fill their bellies with.
A third stall and Shen Jiu drops to his knees, ducking beneath the wooden partition. Something hisses in his face and he freezes, his thoughts shuddering to a discordant stop. The cat is small, a sharp soaked noise that hunches over the half-eaten carcass of a fish. It’s the smell that hits him first from this close, a cloying waft of salt and decay, and Shen Jiu wants it. He moves closer, his lip drawn back over his teeth, and stretches out towards the cat as it watches him, the tip of it’s tail lashing back and forth.
Shen Jiu bleeds beneath that stall and receives nothing in return.
He stumbles as he makes his way back into the alley, falling to his knees next to Yue Qi. Still breathing. Still alive. For now.
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