#anyangst2k19

[akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week]

Akatsuki no Yona Angst Week

A reminder that Akatsuki no Yona angst week starts tomorrow, that is 21st July 2019! The prompts were listed and rules were also mentioned. When posting we ask that you tag your posts accordingly with #anyangst2k19. Since sometimes things get wiped out of the tag, be sure to tag this blog in your post as well. 

Let’s enjoy this week and bring tissues with you!

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 6 - Abuse (AO3)

Warnings: (I think the prompt speaks for itself, but can’t be too careful.) Abuse and strong language.

“Hey, you. Yes, I’m talking to you, you imbecile. Do you know what it’s like to fly?”

And endless expanse of sky, the world rushing beneath you and the wind in your face.

“There’s less food again,” Garou muttered as he carried the food for the day to where his responsibility was. He kicked the door open with his left foot. He’d kicked the door open with his right one once and the door had broken. The village elders had given him hell for that. 

Jaeha sat curled up in the corner, his eyes trained on Garou. He looked like a caged animal and Garou wanted to laugh at him. He was indeed a caged animal. Garou put the food down and sat down to eat. Jaeha watched him, his gaze like a burning flame. Garou didn’t care. He finished eating and shoved what little was left at Jaeha.

“This is too little,” Jaeha told him dryly.

“Shut up,” Garou snapped. “You’ll eat as much as you’re given. I’m bigger so it only makes more sense that I would eat more.” 

Jaeha rolled his eyes and picked at the food. Garou studied his wrists that looked like skin and bone. Then he looked at his own. Jaeha’s wrists weren’t that different from his own.

Hilarious.

“Of course I know what it’s like to fly. You think I haven’t tried?” 

“You’re an idiot,”

“I’m done,” Jaeha said. 

Garou glanced at him and then picked up the frayed basket and headed back out. One of the village elders was there to take the basket from him. Garou fidgeted for a moment.

“There was less food,” Garou said quietly. 

“Huh?” the elder hissed at him and Garou nervously wrung his fingers together. 

“He’s at the age where anything he eats gets put into his growth so it’s doing nothing to fill in his-” Garou started anxiously.

“We gave him enough!” The elder growled. “We’re already short on food and you want us to give him more?” 

“Well, I’m already cutting down what I’m eati-” Garou fixed his eyes on the elder’s shoes.

“Hah?” The elder sounded condensing. “Whoever said that we were giving you the normal amount of food? You’re going to die soon anyways. Do us a favor since the village is struggling enough already.”

“I’m not an idiot. You’re the one that’s dumb for asking a Ryokuryuu if they can fl-”

“You don’t know what it’s like to fly. Trust me. None of us do.”

“Ah, I see,” Garou nodded and then went back to that shabby and pathetic hut that he had been forced to call home. He slammed the door open and Jaeha looked up from whatever he was scribbling on the straw mat with his nails.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jaeha asked.

“Don’t talk to me!” Garou shouted. 

“Right,” Jaeha muttered.

Garou crouched down in a corner of the hut, his fingers in his hair and his nails digging into his skull, his body throbbing with the feeling of punishments that were long gone. The previous Ryokuryuu was dead. He had died. He no longer kicked Garou half to death just because he felt like it.

“You’re going to die soon anyways,”

Garou dug his nails harder into his scalp and almost whimpered in pain.

------o------

“Is there anything else you need me to do?” Garou asked.

“No, we don’t need you anymore,” the man waved Garou away as if Garou hadn’t just carried all of his things for him from one end of the village to another, twice. 

Endless skies, the world so big, unimaginable possibilities spread out before him. A couple more jumps and he would be in a place he would have never even dreamed of.

“That is,” Garou said slowly, “you said you would give m-”

“Ah! Damn that useless caretaker! Can’t even take care of one brat! Rokuryuu’s loose again!”

The man that Garou was about to ask for the promised pay gave him a look of disgust. As if to say that Garou was useless anyways, why would he pay him when he couldn’t even take care of one child? Garou nodded and walked away. He saw Jaeha soon enough. The little brat shot out between two buildings like a blur and Garou raised his right leg and slammed it straight into Jaeha’s face. 

Jaeha went flying backwards and crashed into a house. Garou marched up to him, grabbing him by the back of his neck and lifting him off the ground. Garou dipped his head towards the villagers who had gathered to watch this spectacle.

“I’m sorry, I’ll take him back immediately,” Garou mumbled and then carried Jaeha back, kicking and cursing up a storm. 

Garou threw Jaeha as hard as he could and the child slammed into the wall. Garou grabbed him by the neck again, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to strangle him. 

“Don’t make things difficult for me, you damn brat. I was about to get some money for some food. But no, you had to try and save yourself.” Garou spat. He kicked Jaeha one more time for good measure and then dug out new chains. They had an endless supply of chains in this village, but a shortage of food. Garou didn’t know what that said about them.

After shackling Jaeha again, Garou threw him against the ground and went to his corner.

They remained silent in their respective corners until it got cold. There was draft, a crack in the door and it was so cold.

“Garou,” Jaeha spoke up from where he was curled up on the ground.

“What do you want?” Garou grumbled, turning to look at the boy.

“Do you know what it’s like to fly?” Jaeha asked.

Endless skies, a world of possibilities. 

So close. So, so, so close.

“Don’t even fucking think of leaving me here! I’ll kill you!”

Blood in his mouth.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Garou said. 

“It’s not a stupid question,” Jaeha said.

“You’re going to die soon anyways,”

“Shut up,” Garou muttered.

“You didn’t answer,” Jaeha said.

“I said, shut up!” Garou snapped, getting to his feet. 

“I’m just asking you if you know what it’s like to fly,” Jaeha said, his voice dull and sarcastic.

“Shut up!” Garou threw a stone at the boy, his chest heaving. “Don’t speak to me! Don’t talk!”

His village was far behind. He had run. Jumped. Flown. Gone as fast as he could, the moment he had the chance. The world in front of him, hell behind him.

“What kind of Ryokuryuu doesn’t know what it’s like to f-” Jaeha started, his voice a bored drawl. Garou flung himself at the boy in fury, hands digging into the boy’s shoulder and screeching in rage.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! What do you know? Don’t you dare even think you can pretend to know!” Garou screamed.

Blood in his mouth, blood dribbling down his chin, one eye swollen shut, a handful of broken ribs and as the leg of the dragon slammed into his side again, he knew that he probably had another handful of broken ribs.

“Do you think you know anything? You think just because you’re a Ryokuryuu you know what it’s like to fly?” 

Hands squeezed around his throat and cut off his air supply. 

Maybe he would die like this, unable to see the sky.

“You might try to fly, but you won’t be able to. You won’t! You can’t! I won’t let you! Even when I’m gone! I won’t let you! I’ll curse you for making me die without knowing what it’s like to fly!”

His one open eye rolled back as his breath was squeezed from him.

“You think there’s some kind of miracle out there? There is-”

“-Nothing!” Garou screamed. “There is nothing out there! Nothing! You can jump all you like, but there is nothing!”

He stood there. The world in front of him and hell behind him.

But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t fly.

There were chains around his legs and he couldn’t fly.

Blood in his mouth and no sky.

Garou wished he had the strength to strangle Jaeha the way his predecessor had strangled him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t fly. He couldn’t do anything.

He dug his fingers into Jaeha’s shoulder painfully and bent his head, body shaking.

Jaeha said nothing.

“There’s nothing out there. Not for me.”

Only chains.

------o------

Hmmmmm. Abuse comes in many forms. Some are obvious, like the way Garou's predecessor treated him and some aren't obvious at all, like the way King Il tried to cage Yona inside this perfect world he had created (do I count that as form of abuse? Yeah, I actually kinda do). There's a lot of people I could have written about for this prompt. For example, I could have written straight from Jaeha's point of view. But the moment I saw this prompt, I instantly thought of Garou. Getting into the abuser's head to write is an experience. I pity Garou and I get where he was coming from. I wish he could have had a much much better and loving life. And Jaeha pitied him too. Abusers are human. And I think that's why I liked writing this. But, although they are human, abuse is never OK. No matter what kind of upbringing someone had, abuse is NEVER OK. It's a strong subject to go over and talk about. And writing Garou for this prompt was frankly amazing. I hope you guys enjoyed this.

[maddyswriting]

Third day: Farewell

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Zeno shifted in his bed, the thin blanket falling on the floor. He slowly opened his blue eyes and the shadow of a tree welcomed his vision. Silence. The dragon warrior sighed as he felt his chest clutching.

They are alive. Zeno smiled, glad that he had woken up. I can feel them. Abi must be sleeping. Guen is probably with his family. Shuten is moving. They are alive.

One farewell was enough for him. However, during his sleep, his mind had created the illusion of a second farewell. A permanent farewell. Zeno gulped, lifting his body in a sitting position. Tears fell on his cheeks but he wiped them away quickly.

What if they realize I am crying and call me a weakling? He let out a soft chuckle even though his heart was breaking.

Zeno closed his eyes and sighed the words in a whisper.

“They are alive.”

One day, he is going to say farewell again. One day, he will wake up to the emptiness left behind them. One day, he will scream their names at the moon.

“Guen, Abi, Shuten, wait for me. I’ll…I’ll come visit you.” But no matter how many times he said it, he was aware of his lie. How could he face his brothers when he was always the same? Zeno’s expression darkened as he bit his trembling lower lip. Blood trailed down his clothes but the yellow dragon did not care.

Zeno could not accept a second farewell because if he did he had to face the fact that he was an immortal monster…

[maddyisenough]

Akatsuki no Yona Angst Week 2019

First day: Loss

Basically Kyo Ga and Tae Jun lose everything and become poor.

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 1: Loss (AO3)

Warnings: Canon typical violence

The first thing that occurred to Abi was darkness. A strange feeling. He hadn’t known true darkness since he had first drank the blood of the Seiryuu. The second thing that occurred to him was the feeling of some kind of heavy numbness, not quite unlike his backlash paralysis. Convinced that this was a post battle thing and that someone (probably Shuten) had draped several thick and heavy blankets over him and thus keeping him in the dark, Abi lay there, waiting patiently for the tingle of feeling in his limbs to come back. He strained his ears to listen for someone but was met with nothing but silence and what sounded like rain outside of his window.

The door opened and Abi heard footsteps. The footsteps weren’t heavy enough to be Guen’s and they were too consistent to be the flighty and jumpy steps of Shuten. Zeno? A doctor? The queen? Prince Yakshi?

“Seiryuu, how are you feeling?” 

That was Zeno’s voice.

How did Zeno think Abi was supposed to answer from beneath all those stupid blankets?

Wait.

Why was Abi able to hear Zeno at all if he was underneath a pile of blankets? How was Abi even breathing so easily?

“Ouryuu? What’s going on?” Abi asked. He was confused. Something was horribly wrong and it was starting to terrify him.

“You’ve been put under a lot of medicine to erase pain so you might be feeling numb.” Zeno explained. Abi felt the mattress dip ever so slightly underneath him and Abi guessed Zeno had sat down. 

But that still didn’t explain why he couldn’t see.

“Ouryuu, I need you to carefully explain the situation to me,” Abi said slowly.

“How much do you remember?” Zeno asked.

“How much do I-” Abi cut himself off, running through his memories. The dragon blood, meeting Hiryuu and his fellow dragon warrior brothers, battles, blood, paralysis, laughter, teasing, fights, Hiryuu’s smile, Hiryuu’s death. Abi sucked in a sharp shuddering breath, the pain of Hiryuu’s death washing over him anew. 

They had cried. The queen had cried. Prince Yakshi and his sister had cried.

“Our King...is gone…” Abi rasped.

“Yes…” Zeno’s voice was soft and gentle. Patient and understanding in a way that Abi really wouldn’t have expected from their youngest. But Zeno had mourned Hiryuu’s death as well. So he knew. He understood. “What else?”

“W-what else?” Abi stammered. Dreary days in the palace. Nothing had seemed right. Although the sky had been bright and the land was beautiful, everything had looked grey to Abi. Skirmishes that they had to settle despite their mourning. Stupid humans being selfish, like barbarians they craved nothing but war. And then Abi had fallen on blood stained soil and a hand had reached for him.

A hand that wanted to harm him.

Abi’s breath quickened and he broke out into a cold sweat, terror coursing through his veins. 

“O-our-ouryuu…” Abi rasped, his heart pounding against his ribcage. 

“I’m here,” 

A hand wrapped around Abi’s. Warm and gentle fingers.

“M-my ey-eyes-” Abi gasped, trying to suck in air desperately.

Silence.

“Ouryuu!” Abi cried.

“They’re gone. I’m sorry.”

Abi stopped breathing. He wanted to raise his hands to his throat and claw it open to let air in, but he couldn’t move a finger. His head reeled and he wanted to cry, but his eyes only burned. Burned in a way he had never felt before. 

Because they were gone.

They were gone. Gone, gone, gone.

His eyes, the eyes of the Seiryuu, his bond with the dragons, his bond with his King.

Gone.

He vaguely was aware of someone shouting something and being pulled up and into someone’s arms, but he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see.

My King, my King, my King. I am no longer one that would stay by your side.

I am no one.

Abi lost consciousness, and fell into a darkness that would never leave him. 

My King.

------o------

They had taken a knife. A slim and cruel knife. Pressed fingers under his eyelids and raised that shiny, ice cold metal into his sight. Be careful, they had said. They couldn’t damage his valuable eyes with that knife. Carefully, slowly, painfully, cut out his eyes. He’s paralysed, they had said, he can’t move. Cutting his eyes out is easier this way, but still. Be careful. They carved out the flesh around his eyes so as to not even for a moment bring that knife near his precious and priceless eyes.

Guen and Shuten had killed them. Brutally, viciously and full of unforgivable rage. They brought back his eyes. But what could Abi do with them? There was no way to bring them back. Abi couldn’t even see them. Zeno had cried, offered to see if his blood would help. The horror of learning Zeno’s power from that had made Abi pull away from the pain of losing his eyes. Abi told Zeno not to. Zeno’s power was his alone.

Someone had to accompany Abi everywhere. Abi who used to be able to see far into the distance and find where Shuten was hiding couldn’t even see the slight elevation of the floor that was at his door. How did one go from super sight to no sight at all?

Zeno would hold his hand, lead him across halls, cheerfully talk about what Prince Yakshi had been doing, warn him of stairs. Guen sometimes straight up picked him off the floor. Abi wished he could protest, but he didn’t. What use was protesting. As if he had any right to? As if he was anyone at all? Shuten held his hands once (Abi thought he pressed his forehead to his hands) and begged forgiveness for coming to Abi’s aid too late.

Abi told him it wasn’t his fault.

Because it was his.

When the medicine wore off, Abi would feel pain. The place where his eyes had once been would burn, a fire that he felt would never go out. His body would ache and his mouth throb. They had beaten and kicked him after all, pleased to be able to attack one of the dragon warriors. They had kicked his mouth too, to make him stop pleading for them to not cut out his eyes.

Without his eyes, Abi was truly no one.

Just some fallen soldier that was receiving immeasurable kindness for even being allowed to still stay in the palace.

Abi was no longer Seiryuu.

“Lord Seiryuu, can I offer you some tea?” an attendant asked.

“No thank you,” Abi said.

“It was brewed by the-” the attendant continued.

“Get out,” Abi said.

“I’m sorry?” the attendant stammered.

“Get out,” Abi repeated harshly.

“Y-yes!” 

I want to see my King.

Hiryuu had a way of comforting them all. He had once brushed Abi’s hair in the middle of the night when he found Abi roaming the palace halls at night, homesick. Hiryuu would know what to do with Abi. He would give Abi value.

I want to see my King!

Abi shot up as soon as he could no longer hear the attendant and stumbled towards his room door. He tried to remember paths and little bumps in the halls he had been attempting to memorize. His body hurt and his eyes burned. He needed to go to the King’s mausoleum. 

Please. Please. 

Abi tripped and fell. He heard something crash. His entire body hurt.

It was dark.

It was so dark.

That world of unexplainable and beautiful light he had seen by his King’s side was gone.

Abi wanted to cry, but no tears would ever come to him again.

“Seiryuu?!” Abi heard Guen’s voice. 

Abi curled up.

I’m no longer Seiryuu.

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 3 - Farewell (AO3)

Deep breaths, count numbers and calm down. 

“Yes, who is it?” she asked, clenching her hands into fists against her purple skirts.

“It is me, mother,” the sound of Yakshi’s voice.

“Come in, Yakshi,” she said before taking one last deep breath before the doors opened and her son walked into the room. “Can I help you? Did you not come with your sister?”

“My sister is talking with some of the royal guards. I do not know what she sees in them.” Yakshi sounded displeased. She laughed, soft and calm.

“You can’t speak like that, Yakshi, a girl’s heart is a strange thing,” she said. “Now then, what can I do for you?”

“First of all, how are you doing today, mother?” he asked, his eyes trained on her, filled with concern and schooled determination.

“I am fine,” she said, her voice light, like a feather. Hiryuu’s voice had been firm, grounded, calm. It had made her feel safe even when she had thought she would lose their second child. “Zeno sometimes comes in here to talk to me.”

“Lord Ouryuu?” Yakshi asked in surprise,

“Zeno has always been like that,” she said with a fond smile. 

“I wish to see you smile again, mother,” Yakshi said sadly. She tried not to feel the way her heart painfully squeezed.

“Am I not smiling now?” she asked, trying to sound playful and spreading an easy and practiced smile across her face.

“That is not a smile you would have given to father,” Yakshi said quietly.

“What a cheeky smile you have,” Hiryuu grinned.

“You’re the one that married someone with a smile like this,”

“Those smiles were reserved for your father, I suppose,” she looked away, fingers fiddling with the folds of her skirt.

“Mother, I would like it if you were able to let go,” Yakshi whispered, suddenly sounding small. “I miss you, Hoshi misses you too,”

“I will try,” she smiled.

------o------

But how? How was she supposed to let go of thoughts of scarlet hair, kind eyes, warm smiles, and a man so great he encompassed the entirety of her world. She had been so young then when she had first met him and she had not expected to have fallen in love with the man whose campaign of war she had been criticising. 

How could she let go of someone she loved?

How did anyone let go of someone they loved?

But she was clearly hurting her children. Her children needed her. And she was trying, she was trying so hard. She did all her duties as she was asked to, she spent time with her children, she helped them with whatever she could, she did daily rounds around the castle.

(And every so often she would take deep breaths, count numbers and calm herself down.

Just like Hiryuu had taught her.)

“Zeno, what is it that I am lacking?” she asked. 

Zeno paused in the middle of pouring tea for her. He looked up at her face thoughtfully and then put the teapot down.

“Your spirit,” he said. 

“My spirit?” she asked.

“Yes,” he nodded and then smiled bitterly. “Your highness, it is almost as if you left your spirit with our King.”

She looked down at the teacups, one full and one empty.

“You would not be wrong to say so,” she whispered.

How did one let go of someone they had thought they would be together with for eternity?

How did someone move on?

Had she become so weak? It was not as if this were the first death she had witnessed. Her mother had passed before she had met Hiryuu and her father had passed after Hoshi was born. She had seen soldiers die, she had tended to dying people and had watched life slip through her fingers.

So why was this so hard now?

What made Hiryuu different?

“Zeno, I think, you should pour your tea before mine gets cold,” she said.

------o------

“And so, what is your opinion?” she asked, fingers pressed to stone engraved with ancient letters and patterns and laden with gold lining. A fitting grave for a King that could have ruled the world. She was alone and she spoke to the air, the walls and the stone she was passing her body heat to. An empty hall, one that Abi chose to occupy most of the time.

She wondered why she did not grieve the way he did. The dragons were indeed close, but she was his wife. They had loved each other and lived side by side. Maybe it would have been normal for her to stay by his tomb and refuse to leave it?

And become a failure of a Queen and ruin what her King had left behind? 

What nonsense.

“Tell me, my King, how would you have me move from here?” she asked.

“My queen, you are too harsh,”

“And you are too soft! The children will get hurt again if they do not learn their lesson now!”

“You really are amazing,”

She knew how to move on. She knew how to let go. 

But loving someone she willed to live again, and loving someone she knew was dead were two different things and she was not ready for that.

“But you, my queen, have always made the logical decisions in this family,”

How did someone move on?

“You say goodbye,” she said softly and it was swallowed by the silence in the hall.

She bowed her head and pressed her forehead against the stone.

“I will be going, my King. Please wait for me, even if I take too long,” she said and then straightened up, the image of lips quirked into a smile on her mind.

She turned and walked away, her heart a little heavier, but her spirit a little freer. 

[maddyswriting]

Second Day: Scream

// Have some Yoon angst. I’m sorry Yoon. @akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Yoon leaned his head on the old tree from the neighbouring village and his body shivered. This spot filled with snow melted underneath him. His trousers stuck to his legs, and he could feel his skin burning. His throat was burning and his eyes were burning. The little boy searched for a hope to fill his gaze. A person, a friend, a parent.

A parent? He asked himself and he smiled bitterly. Yoon had always been alone. This was his destiny. God had decided already and he could do nothing to change it.

No, I can’t die yet. I have to eat, I have to move.

“ Move, dumb legs!” He yelled, his fists hitting his legs. But he could no longer feel them. It was cold. The snow kept growing with every minute. And he could not move.

“ I don’t want to die…” The little boy said and he heard a scream coming from the house near the tree. The voice of an old woman calling to her child who was unable to wake up. Yoon’s lips trembled and his vision blurred. Warm tears fell on his cheeks as he stared in the direction of the house.

“Can… can you help me?” He suddenly called, his will to survive stronger than ever. For a moment, the woman stopped sobbing. It was as if she were listening and pondering over the possibility. It was as if she were ready to save him.

But she did not leave her house. She mourned her child.

Yoon heard her screams again and again.

He closed his eyes, letting all his weight onto the tree. No one will come after him. But he did not blame them.

Three hours later a fair-haired man passed by this village and noticed the child near the tree. He crouched down to check on him but it was in vain. The little boy had no breath. The priest started crying while saying “May God take care of you…”

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 5 - Death (AO3)

Warnings: Severed Heads

Her mother used to tell her that no child should ever have to live through a war. But that was how the world was. Always at war. Her mother was lost to a war too. She wasn’t killed, but she grew sick and there was a shortage of everything during war times. She lost her mother to the world that was always at war and she had only her father, Tao, and her people. Tao was too young to understand what death meant, too young to understand what war meant, too young to understand that Kouren was constantly in so much pain.

King Junam was ruthless and the commanders under him were the same. Xing had suffered far too many losses, they were losing resources, they were losing their people, they were losing everything. So Xing decided to draw back their soldiers and beg for a cease fire. A reasonable thing, Kouren believed. A treaty could be made instead of this bloodshed.

Their soldiers would be released.

They could finally put an end to this stupid war that had taken so many of their people away.

It was over.

It was over.

It was supposed to be over.

Kouren stared in horror as it rained blood and severed heads.

People were screaming and crying, some were shouting in outrage. There was so much going on around her. Or there should have been. For Kouren, everything had gone oddly quiet and oddly still. As if time itself had stopped for her.

She watched blankly as dead eyes met hers and a severed head dropped to the ground and right by her feet.

He was a soldier that had worked in the palace before. He smiled a wide smile, babied Tao and patted Kouren’s head even when she asked him not to.

He wasn’t smiling anymore.

How strange.

She slowly knelt in front of the severed head and brushed the matted, messy and blood caked hair away from his forehead. The blood was at least several hours old. He had been dead since morning. Kouren absentmindedly rubbed cracked and drying blood from his stiff cheeks. She stared at his lifeless eyes that looked like glass and then closed them.

“Princess Kouren!” Someone shouted behind her, but that sound too, was muffled.

It was just her. Her and this soldier.

Her and this soldier and their burning hatred and rage felt for Prince Yuhon.

“Would you like to go home?” Kouren asked the soldier.

There was no answer. The man’s lips were covered in blood and motionless. Kouren closed her eyes for a moment. It was fascinating how calm she was despite boiling inside with rage, despite the severed head in her hands.

“I can take you home,” she said and then picked the man’s head up, staining her dress with half dried blood. She cradled the man’s head to herself, like a child that she loved dearly.

She looked around her and people were still crying and screaming. Several soldiers and men were trying to usher everyone away from the border. The soldier that had come with Kouren was batting away people that came near her while glancing at her in terror. Her eyes went to the camp Kouka had made in the distance, catching just the slightest glimpse of red.

Prince Yuhon.

Kouren closed her eyes and turned around, walking away with the man’s head held close.

She would make Prince Yuhon pay.

“Princess Kouren! What are you holding?” her soldier cried out. “Please let go of that immediately!”

“I’m taking him home,” Kouren said quietly, turning to look at her soldier. The man went still, horror and fear in his eyes. “Is there something wrong with taking someone home?”

“N-no, your highness,” the man looked away, unable to look her in the eyes.

Why?

Was it because of the blood that dirtied her dress, the tender way she held the head, the tears that wouldn’t stop falling from her eyes?

“Do you know where his home is?” Kouren asked.

“N-no,” the man stammered.

“I see, I will have to search then,” Kouren turned and kept walking.

She searched and searched, but she couldn’t seem to find the man’s home and anyone she asked would tell her that they didn’t know. They were all scared. Kouren didn’t understand. What were they so scared of? It wasn’t as if she were Prince Yuhon.

“Kouren, what are you doing?” her father shouted.

“Oh, father,” Kouren murmured. “I am looking for this man’s home. While I look for it, I was wondering if I could leave him with Tao.”

“Absolutely not! You mean to leave that with Tao? Throw that into the furnace at once!” her father sounded horrified.

Why?

“Why would I throw a hard working citizen into the furnace? He has done nothing wrong. Father, you cannot treat your people like that.” Kouren stared at her father and he looked even more horrified.

“Kouren, please, give that to another soldier. They will take the head to where they are paying respects to the fallen.”

Why?

“Respects?” Kouren said softly. “Respect? Is that enough?”

“Kouren?” her father asked.

“This man is not dead,” she said quietly. “He is filled with fury. He is filled with rage. He is a burning furnace himself.” She brushed her fingers against the blood stained hair, tenderly. “Respect? He does not want that. He wants blood. He wants the blood of the people of Kouka to be spilled until their rivers are red. Respect is pointless.”

Her father stared at her, speechless and then she noticed the man on the side, his face bleeding and his side maimed.

“Ah,” she walked over to him, placed the head on the floor and pressed her hands against the flowing blood on his face. He stared at her in wonder. “This man too, is not dead.” She pressed her forehead against the man’s. “Are you too, hiding that rage within your heart?”

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 7 - Past (AO3)

I am so, so, so late with this. I’m sorry. It was so hard to write this prompt?

------o------

“There is much to do, Iksoo,” his Master told him. 

Iksoo nodded. He hadn’t been told the details of the prophecy that his Master had received, but he had understood that it was important enough to shake the entire Kingdom. Although the prophecy was mostly secret except amongst those in the royal family, Iksoo could feel the pressure and the change in the air.

“What would you have me do?” Iksoo asked. 

“Tomorrow morning we will have to-” his Master started very seriously when his eyes widened and Iksoo realized a little too late that there was a very threatening presence behind him. Before he could even turn to see who it was, a fistful of his hair was grabbed and he was dragged backwards.

Iksoo cried out in pain.

“What are yo-” His Master shouted.

“Please let go of m-” Iksoo cut off when he felt the cold press of metal against his neck. Iksoo whimpered in acute fear.

Silence. 

Iksoo couldn’t move, whoever was holding him in place was so strong, he couldn’t move an inch. Well, not like that was an option with a sword being pressed to his neck. His Master was quiet as well, staring with an indescribable look on his face. 

Then his Master dipped down in a bow.

“How can I help you, Lord Yuhon?” he asked, his voice quiet but clear.

Iksoo’s body seized up with even more fear. He was no good with Yuhon. Iksoo had crossed paths with the man many times, but he had glared at Iksoo so fiercely, Iksoo had nearly fainted. He clearly didn’t like Iksoo or his Master and he rarely visited their temple, so why was he here now?

“Who put you vipers up to this? Which one? One of the Ministers? Or maybe one of the Generals? Was it Joongi?” he snarled and his grip on the top of Iksoo’s head tightened.

Iksoo bit his lip to keep from crying.

“No one, my Lord,” Iksoo’s Master said. “I received the prophecy from the heavens and-”

“Don’t test my patience!” Yuhon shouted and the sword pierced skin.

Iksoo hiccuped in fear and tears spilled from his eyes. Iksoo’s Master looked up with a start, horror in his eyes.

“My Lord! Iksoo is a child!” He shouted.

“And your point is?” Yuhon scoffed.

“Please,” Iksoo whispered, so terrified, his voice barely came out at all.

“I knew I should have removed you from this palace sooner! You cheats, liars, corrupt bastards!” Yuhon shouted. 

“We did nothi-” Iksoo’s Master said desperately and then Yuhon pulled on Iksoo’s hair. Iksoo cried out. “We’ll leave!” His Master shouted. “We’ll leave the palace! Just please! Let Iksoo go. He’s just a child, he hasn’t done anything to deserve this.”

“As if, he too is probably involved in y-” Yuhon started and Iksoo’s Master shook his head furiously.

“I have told him nothing,” he said.

“Then, I’ll let him go,” Yuhon pulled his sword away and pushed Iksoo forward. Iksoo stumbled, his sandal catching on a floor tile, and he fell to the floor. “But you will have to die here,” 

Iksoo pushed himself up in panic. Yuhon was already striding towards his Master and Iksoo’s feet moved before he could stop himself. He threw himself in front of his Master, terror coursing through his veins and his limbs trembling.

“No!” Iksoo cried. “No, you can’t! Please!” Iksoo cried, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Iksoo had no one. He only had his master. Someone born with the blessing to hear the voices of the Gods was destined for loneliness. Iksoo had already lost any family he’d had. The only one he had was his Master who had taught Iksoo, brushed Iksoo’s hair, held his hand when he couldn’t sleep, fed him food and took care of him when he was sick or hurt. Iksoo had no one else. 

“Child, if you do not move out of the way, I will cut you down with him,” Yuhon’s voice was cold. Iksoo couldn’t look up into his eyes. 

“Iksoo! What are you doing?” His Master snapped.

“Please,” Iksoo begged, wracking his brain from something, anything. Then Iksoo knelt and bowed with his forehead touching the ground. “I will see to it that my Master will never speak of whatever it is that your highness isn’t pleased with. I will watch over my Master with a sharp eye. We will leave quietly and remain quiet for the rest of our lives,” Iksoo squeezed his eyes shut. “Please.”

“If you do not know what your Master knows of, how will you stop him from saying anything, you stupid child?” Yuhon scoffed.

“I will make sure of it!” Iksoo cried, his forehead pressed into cold tiles and fingers curled into fists. 

“What nonsense,” Yuhon hissed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Iksoo! Enough! You are the next priest! You must live!” His master shouted.

“No!” Iksoo cried. “I cannot leave without you!” 

“Ikso-” His master sounded desperate.

“I am running out of patience, you fools,” Yuhon said darkly. 

“Iksoo!” His master shouted.

“No!” Iksoo practically screamed.

“Enough,” Yuhon sounded done. Iksoo bit his lip fiercely.

“You have my word, your highness,” Iksoo’s Master suddenly spoke up. “I will not speak a word of that prophecy ever again. My student is important to me. I have no desire to lose him. If you ever hear word of that prophecy, you will surely know that it came from us and you will find us and kill us. But I do not desire the death of my student. He is the next priest. I cannot let this end here. That is why, I will cut my tongue,” 

Iksoo shot up.

“Master, why would you-” Iksoo cried. Yuhon kicked Iksoo in the side and Iksoo flew almost halfway across the hall and Yuhon strode up to his Master. Iksoo sobbed, clutching his side. “Master!” 

“If you were to cut your tongue, you would die. It would be better if I just killed you here.” Yuhon glared down at Iksoo’s Master.

“Take us to a doctor!” Iksoo almost screamed. “Take us to a doctor in the city and then my Master will live! And we will go quietly!” 

Yuhon turned to look at him and Iksoo shook like a leaf.

“I see,” Yuhon said coldly. “It would seem you raised your student to be cunning.”

“No,” Iksoo’s Master said. “I raised him to be kind,” 

Yuhon said nothing, he merely grabbed Iksoo’s Master’s arm and pulled him up and then glared hard at Iksoo. Then he dragged Iksoo’s Master with him. Iksoo stumbled to his feet and desperately ran after them.

------o------

So, I wanted to write a past that has been mostly unexplored in canon. A first I was like SOOWON! But that's too much of a hurdle. Too complex and it would probably develop into a multi chaptered fic that wouldn't do real justice to his back story. I've been reading a lot of historical manga and manhwa lately and religious groups were often suspected of supporting a certain Prince. So I went with Yuhon believing that Iksoo's Master had faked Yona's prophecy in order to put the Prince he wanted on the throne. Biting off your tongue is a way to commit suicide if I'm correct, but if you do it the right way and get a doctor to treat you immediately you might live and just not be able to speak properly ever again. Of course, this is all second hand knowledge. I do not know how true this is. Iksoo is like seventeen here but a smol that hasn't had his second growth spurt yet so I FEEL FOR MY BABY.

This was a wild week (well more than a week, but) and I LOVE writing angst so this was great. I'm glad I managed to stick to my goal of writing side characters and not main characters. I cut it pretty close with 'Abuse' but I managed to focus on mostly Garou!

I hope you guys enjoyed this!

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 4 - Fight (AO3)

Xing was a small country, Tao knew this. They were small and not very powerful. The only reason they had managed to survive till this day was because her father and her sister were wonderful administrators when they needed to be. 

But deep in her country lay and brewing darkness that Tao could not allow. And the one festering in that darkness was none other than her sister. The sister she loved and respected so much. Tao hadn’t been the one to hold a head crusted with more dried blood than she had ever seen. Tao hadn’t been the one that had watched her country fall to Kouka as Yuhon slaughtered their people for simply wanting to survive. 

Tao hadn’t lived through the same grief her sister had experienced.

But she was alive now. And there were things she could do now. They lived in the present.

Not in the past. 

She had to make the decisions she needed to make.

“Tao, do you know what you’re saying?” Kouren asked, her voice cold and frigid. The girl serving tea in the room was shaking.

“I do,” Tao said, her voice even and calm. “We shouldn’t go to war with Kouka over something that happened so long ago. Rather, talking to them is more importa-”

“Stop,” Kouren raised her hand. “I don’t want to hear another word about this.”

“But siste-” Tao began again.

“No,” Kouren’s voice was cold, with an edge like a knife. “You are dismissed. I will not listen to the argument of a fool.” 

Tao clenched her fists, ready to open her mouth and start arguing even more, but Kouren silenced her with a glare. Tao stood up and bowed her head.

“Then, I will be going, sister. But please understand, this talk is far from over,” Tao said nothing more and simply turned around fluidly and walked out the door. 

No matter how Tao saw it, as her father’s health declined her sister became more and more possessed by a creature of rage, fear and grief. It sat on her sister’s shoulders and dug twisted talons into her shoulders and her sister bled and bled.

And Tao mourned for her sister.

Children were drafted for the army, swords were put in their hands and armor on their frail bodies. Tao watched and she felt sadness. She could not let this go on. She could not let this happen. She would not let the blood of children spill on the battlefield.

“Sister, this is outrageous! You cannot do this! We cannot go to war with Kouka! Those are children in your army!” Tao said loudly, fists clenched into her clothes.

“They are not children. They are fine young men who agree with our purpose.” Kouren didn’t look up from her papers.

“You have brainwashed these children into thinking this is a righteous and noble cause. But a path filled with only death is not a noble path. It is a fool’s path,” Tao said. Kouren looked up at her, face cool and expressionless.

“What do you know?” She asked.

“I know that you aren’t leading us to victory. You’re leading us to death and ruin.” Tao raised her chin. “As a Princess of this country, how could you let yourself be driven by your own emotions. If we were to have negotiations with King So-”

“Enough, Tao!” Kouren shouted, slamming her hands against the table and getting to her feet, her face contorted with rage. “You don’t have any idea what that man’s father was like. He was a monster. He wasn’t a human being. Junam was even worse. You would dare to leave us at the mercy of a King like that?” 

“He is not like that. Have you not heard the stories, the rumors? He is a just King. Better than even King Il,” Tao said coolly. 

“Do you think blood is so thin? Monsters give birth to monsters! He too will be like his father!” Kouren shouted.

“Please see reason, sister! You are blinded! If we were to just talk with him, do you truly think he would be so cruel?” Tao said desperately.

“Tao, I refuse to speak with you on this subject anymore. You will not question my decisions and you will not speak of negotiations with that monster again to anyone. Stay quiet and just stay behind me until this war is over.” Kouren thundered.

“There will be no war,” Tao said, her hands shaking but standing tall. “I will not allow it.”

“And what could you possibly do?” Kouren asked, her gaze searing through Tao.

“I will not follow your commands. I will do as I wish.” Tao weaved her fingers together. “You may not think I’m powerful enough, but I will not allow you to do this.”

“You think I would let you do anything under my guard?” Kouren asked.

“Of course not,” Tao tilted her head. “That’s exactly why, I will be leaving.”

Kouren’s eyes widened and Tao stared at her defiantly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you even try, I will have one of the Five Stars stop you.” Kouren crossed her arms.

“You can’t, sister,” Tao smiled. “The Five Stars cannot stop me and neither can you.”

“What are you doing?” Kouren’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“I will leave that to your imagination,” Tao said and then walked out to where Vold and Algira were waiting for her. 

Tao respected and loved her sister more than anyone else. Her sister was kind, loving, just, strong and talented. But the person possessed was no longer her sister. Tao had to stop Xing from going to war. She had to stop the blood of the innocent from being spilled. 

She had to stop her sister.

[carrotcouple]

@akatsuki-no-yona-angst-week

Day 2 - Scream (AO3)

Thank you to @zenoobsessed for letting me use the name Masu for Kija’s dad!

“Lord Hakuryuu, you’re so beautiful!”

“Lord Hakuryuu, you’re so valiant!”

“Lord Hakuryuu, you are amazing!”

Masu smiled, told them that it wasn’t true. He wasn’t what they said he was. He was praised for being modest, praised for being down to earth. They stared at him with shining eyes. No, that wasn’t really true. They stared at his right arm with shining eyes. His right arm was covered in shiny white scales that glistened in the sunlight. The scales nearly stretched up to his shoulder. His claws were polished by Grandma’s most trusted attendants everyday. 

His dragon arm was the only thing he had to him.

His dragon arm was his reason to live. 

And every day he was surrounded by villagers eager to dote and heap praises on him, who’s only worth was his arm. So he strived to become something that was actually worth something while sealing his lips shut so the sounds of protest would never leave his throat. 

He waited for his King and struggled to become the perfect dragon so that he could serve by his King’s side on the day he came. He smiled at everyone and did everything that was expected of him and Grandma was pleased with him. It gave him a feeling of fulfillment.

When would his King come for him?

His King hadn’t come for any of the Hakuryuus before him. What was to say that he would come for him? But he shut his mouth and told Grandma that he waited eagerly for his King. It was true. He waited, but he also doubted. But that doubt he kept hidden away.

“Lord Hakuryuu, I’m in love with you,” 

She was petite and pretty, with wide eyes and thin fingers. In her eyes Masu could see his own reflection. She was looking at him and not his arm. His heart swelled up in ways he could never imagine. He felt whole for the first time in a long time. 

“Grandma, how do I look?” Masu asked on his wedding day.

“Your beauty is unparalleled as always, Lord Hakuryuu,” Grandma said, dipping her head. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. But he smiled that thin lipped smile he had gotten so used to and ignored her words. He kept those words that wanted to spill from his throat deep inside his heart.

“I’m sure Jia will be beautiful,” he said. 

“I’m sure, Lord Hakuryuu,” Grandma said, with just about as emotion as she had used previously.

And Masu stayed silent, his voice locked up and his words buried away.

“Lord Hakuryuu, congratulations, I hear your wife is pregnant,”

“Thank you,” Masu tried not to beam. He had to be composed as he always had been.

“But are you sure you want to carry all of this back to your house by yourself? You’re getting up there in your years after all,” 

Masu’s smile froze. 

Quiet, calm, quiet.

He wasn’t old. He was only twenty one. He was only twenty one. 

But one with the blood of the dragons did not live long. How did the villagers see him. Old and weak? Would he die like this? Die with his mouth squeezed shut and unable to see his child grow? Would he die without a King by his side?

He was only twenty one.

“Don’t worry. I’m plenty strong, I have to take care of Jia after all.”

Smile, smile, be quiet, smile.

“Masu sama, are you alright? You’ve been holding your right arm for a while,” Jia stared at him with concern in her eyes. Masu stared at her, startled and she turned to look at his arm. 

Don’t look, don’t speak.

“I’m fine,”

His right arm was all there was to him.

Masu couldn’t doubt Jia.

His King wouldn’t come for him. He would drown in all the unspoken words he could never say, in all the screams he could never voice.

“Congratulations, Jia, you gave birth to a new Lord Hakuryuu,”

Shiny white scales on a tiny little arm. 

The only thing that was Masu’s worth. 

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quie-

“Masu sama, please look at your child, he is the new Lord Hakuryuu,”

The words spilled past his lips, the sound of his voice held back for more than two decades burst forth like a broken dam.

And Masu screamed, and screamed and screamed.

Until they were staring at him in horror. Until there was the blood of his son on his hands. Until Jia stared at him in fear.

Until there was nothing left of him.

Quiet.

------o------

ehhhh, so I wasn't entirely too pleased with this. I'm trying to keep up a theme of writing side characters. And in general, writing something revolving around 'scream' is hard. I always constantly felt like, with the way the Hakuryuu village practically worshiped the Hakuryuus, there had be some who definitely thought that their only worth were their right arms. Kija seems the type to not voice his own issues, so I had a feeling, Masu might have been a lot worse than that. So I wanted to go over that.