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multi-fandom-simp · 1 year

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Forever and always.. or maybe never.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Hanahaki Disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you cannot die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity.

❗️TW❗️: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints to infidelity, mild mature scene, violence, character death, angst

(A/N: Hello, this is my own take on Hanahaki's disease with Aemond! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I am always open to criticism and feedback! I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 3.3K

Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father.

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her.

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.

“ You dar-”

“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time.

It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were.

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder.

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench.

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.

" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually.

The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love.

The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now.

“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door.

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you, my love. I always will.” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.

You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood.

Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine.

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.

“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them.

“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?

Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently.

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.

“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat.

“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat.

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”

“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?

Unfortunately for you, that’s exactly how it was going to be. Everyone else around you had begun to notice the shift in your behavior. The fatigue, the paleness, and the emotions. Alicent first noticed it when she sat in the nursery with you, Helaena, and the children just after supper. She saw the way your eyes refused to leave Aemys as if it would be your last look. The way you held him was the same way she held Aemond when he lost his eye.

“ He’s a clever boy.” Alicent smiled as Aemys recited a word back to one of his cousins.

“ That he is.” You agreed, melancholy ghosting your lips. It hurt the queen to see you this way. You were a part of her almost as much as her children. You came to her as a child she was not forced to love nor conceive. Yet you wormed your way into her heart as if she had carried you. The sight of you so sickly and sad tugged at Alicent’s heart.

“ You’re sick, are you not?” Alicent proclaimed in observation rather than a question.

“ Mhm, In a way I suppose I am.” You hummed out softly. It had gotten to the point where it was hard to speak most days. The petals had begun to come up in thick, dry heaves, with occasional thorns that tore at your throat.

“ Have you told Aemond?” The queen inquired.

“ Aemond is the reason I’m sick in the first place.” You grumbled before sighing in defeat, “ Or I suppose it’s more of my fault. I was foolish to think he would ever actually love me.”

“ You don’t mean-” Alicent’s soft words trailed off abruptly. Alicent Hightower was no stranger to the hanahaki disease. She too had suffered through it once. Except she learned how to get around it.

“ I do.” You answered simply, with no trace of sadness or indifference.

“ There are ways around it my d-”

“ Such as forgoing my love for Aemond, I know. I could live a long life if I cast aside every loving memory I hold of him, but alas it is not that easy. I have tried, if that brings you any comfort. In the midst of the night when my eyes are swollen from tears and the blood in my throat is so thick I cannot breathe, I have tried, and I have failed.” Alicent’s eyes well with tears as you speak, almost as if she’s dared to imagine you in such dismay. You reach out to soothe her hands comfortingly, but she grips onto yours tightly instead.

“ It is not easy, but you must keep trying.” Alicent urges, a wobble to her voice.

“ There is no reason for me to put myself through the agony of erasing my happiness when I am already in physical torment. The sight of Aemond is the very reason I wake up every morning. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and feeling his warmth are all things that have kept me going. Forgetting those would be forgetting myself.” You reason, a wisp of remembrance in your eyes.

“ If not for yourself, then for Aemys” Alicent argues.

“ Aemys is one of the reasons I have chosen to give up. Every time I look at him I see Aemond. They are alike in everything but the eyes. The mere sight of that boy reminds me of the night he was made, of the love and passion Aemond had for me. Yet he no longer holds in regards to me. I would rather Aemys hear stories of his parent’s love than grow up with two plain parents.” The child in topic bursts into giggles a few inches away, stealing your attention from the queen. Your eyes crinkle with happiness and you move to turn towards him, but Alicent holds firm.

“ Aemys needs his mother.” She argues once more.

“ He does not. Aemys will have a loving father and grandmother by his side. Alongside his aunt Helaena, Uncle Daeron, and three beautiful cousins. Even Aegon cares for the little rascals’ life.” You chuckled.

“ That is n-”

“ Please, I have made my choice. I appreciate your council, but it is too late. I fear after I lay my son to sleep, it will be my last night alive. I thank you for all the love and comfort you have given me in my lifetime. I love you, mother.” You pressed the meat of your cheek against Alicent’s hand in farewell before standing.

“ If you’ll excuse me-” As you stood to retrieve your son, Alicent excused herself from the room hastily. Never did she think she would find herself running through the castle’s corridors, but yet here she is. Alicent’s heels had been long forgotten and the emerald hem of her dress dragged upon the stone as she made haste to the library, where Aemond would be.

“ Aemond! Ae-” The frantic shrill of the queen mother’s voice echoes throughout the shelves.

“ Mother?” Aemond calls out, emerging from a row with a disheveled Alys in tow, “ Is something wrong?”

“ You hide away fondling a wet nurse while your wife withers away! Have I truly raised you this way?” The despair in Alicent’s voice takes Aemond by surprise. He reaches out to hold her arms, but she pulls away.

“ She is not withering away, mother. She has assured me that it is just a small cold.” Aemond speaks calmly, in hopes to ease his mother’s franticness.

“ A small cold!? She has every sign of hanahaki disease and you have not suspected a thing?” Alicent refuted.

“ Because it is not possible! I love her!” Aemond snaps.

“ Not enough!” Alicent sighs, “ In no world should I have had to be afraid of letting her go in fear that I would not see her again. She has accepted her death, Aemond. How far out of love have you fallen with her to the point where your wife greets death openly?”

Aemond doesn’t bother with a reply because he’s already on his way out of the door. His pounding steps reverberate through the empty halls and the tremble of panicked breathing surrounds him. Fear nearly eats him alive as he reaches the door to your marital chambers. Never has he been terrified to open those doors to the sight of you. He had never once feared finding you dead, but now he has. Slowly but surely, Aemond pushes the giant oak open. He spots you knelt on the balcony in your nightdress, looking up at the stars. Lark lay whining at your side until she hears Aemond shuffle forward. Much to Aemond's surprise, the hefty beast that once worshiped him as you did, bared its teeth to him.

"Please.." Aemond wasn't sure if he was pleading to Lark to let him pass or to the gods for your life. Either way, the Hyena was the first to answer him. Lark moved aside slowly so that Aemond may pass, but still kept defense from a ways away.

“I-” Before a word can even escape his lips, you’re lurching forward. Aemond rushes forward and sinks to his knees to hold you. The convulsions of your stomach can be felt as he circles your waist.

“ I’m so sorry, my love, please.” The cold wash of fear grips his spine as blood and flowers paint the floor. He has no idea what to do. You’re not saying anything or doing anything to cease the onslaught of terror, yet you’re not pushing him away either. On the contrary, you’ve tangled your fingers with the hand he has over your stomach.

“ I love you. I’ll always love you.” Aemond croaks helplessly into your hair as you lean back against him. It’s too late, you had once said. It seems that the universe had agreed. Your breathing rattled to a stop and the grip of your hands weakened. “ I love you. Forever and Always. I promise.” Aemond whispered, pressing a salt-soaked kiss to your temple as he felt your heart slow. The thump that once echoed through your back onto his own heart stuttered to a stop, and with it so did Aemond’s world.

Part 2

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon angst #aemond targaryen angst #angst

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ts19009 · 1 year

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BTS IMAGINES: PART 6

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: September 4th, 2023)

Jungkook

order up | jjk (waiter!jungkook x customer!reader) @ressjeon

my euphoria | jjk [fake dating au ; ceo jjk x florist oc] @moyochu

The Broken Vow (manipulation, yandere, hospitals, divorce, mentions of death, angst,) @lleldey

game over (streamer/gamer!au) @ressjeon

the road to radiant | jjk (m) (fluff, angst, smut, gamer!au, streamer!au, rivals to friends to lovers!au) @kookskingdom

The Language of Flowers (Hanahaki AU) @justimajin

dance with the devil | jjk (angst, royalty - bridgerton vibes, childhood friends to enemies to ?luvrs?) @alphabetboyluvr

Not in the Way You Think (ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader) @jungkookstatts

Seven Days Masterlist | JJK (nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader, non-idol au, brother's friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut) @hisunshiine

cool with you | jeon jungkook (strangers to friends to lovers. smut. afab!reader [she/her] x neighbor!jk) @kooktrash

Sour (ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE, AU SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST) @thvhoe

champagne problems | jeon jungkook (groom!jungkook x wedding planner!reader) @daegustae

we keep this love - j.jk (fluff, angst (5k, lots of pining and f2l)) @namfinessed

Taehyung

can’t take my eyes off of you (one night stand, smut, pinch of fluff) @mrworldwideshoulders

Crazy for You | kth (best friend’s older brother to lovers, a little bit of fake dating trope, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff, snippets of life) @oddinary4bts

best friend’s best friend (best friend!heir!jeongguk x heiress!reader x best friend’s best friend!heir!taehyung) @ktheist

all you want | kim taehyung (rich ceo!kth x rich student!reader) @kooktrash

Seducing the Villain 1 [Villain!Taehyung x Reader x Noble!BTS] @helenazbmrskai

Page Turner (M) | KTH (Kim Taehyung/ Reader, Teacher!Tae/ Librarian!Reader) @gukslut

Exchanging Heat (M) | KTH (Korean exchange/visiting student!Taehyung x (slight) tsundere!reader) @jinfizz

unconditionally || kth (ex-husband!taehyung x female reader ➼ genre: angst | fluff | hurt/comfort | smut | divorce au | exes to lovers au | parents au) @sugakookitty

tolerate it masterlist (heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, infidelity, smut) @archivedkookie

entangled spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader (romance, smut, love triangle) @caelesjjk

(re)starting over again | kth; masterlist (baker!taehyung x nurse!reader, amnesia au) @httpknjoon

the art of obsession | kim taehyung (dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]) @kooktrash

lace & luxury | kim taehyung (sugar daddy!taehyung x exotic dancer!reader [she/her, female anatomy], taehyung aged up) @kooktrash

Seokjin

Knocked (Streamer!Seokjin x f. Reader) @sailoryooons

a human touch, part 2, final (robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, smut (NSFW, 18+)) A@snackhobi

On The Ropes (KSJ x F!Reader) (ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (ft. boxer!Jungkook) genres/au/rating: angst, smut, infidelity!AU, 18+) @raplinesmoejon

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p1nkwitch · 4 months

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Alright end of the year fic rec list of my works from this year before i forget about it. All lonelyeyes themed of course.

Choke and swallow down my heart A hanahaki fic mixed with a different flavor of soulmate tattoos. Its a bit of an urban fantasy but it covers the canon story of the podcast. Had a lot of fun with that one, a lot of flower meaning with it too.

Who is that that i see? Peter suffers from Prosopagnosia and cannot recognize faces. Quite the ordeal for a relationship when you never mention it to your husband.

Tower of sins You know how its Jon and Martin who walk through the apocalypse in season 5? Well what if the eye did not reward Elias at all and he was forced to move through the wasteland with a Peter. Alternate take of events of s5, mind the tags.

Take me to Church My Big Bang fic! A TMA x Bloodborne fusion, i am very proud of that one and the art i got for it was lovely!!! Really mind the tags here. No need of previous Bloodborne knoweldge to understand i made sure its all self explanatory but still you probably will catch some references. Peter is a hunter having the worst time of his life with Elias the demon along for the ride.

Heat haze days Timeloop fic where Elias just cant stop dying and Peter has to repeat the same years over and over again trying to fix it while having a constant mental breakdown.

Repair my heart Afterlife fic with Peter waiting on Elias while fixing a house. The house is a bit of a metaphor. Kind of bittersweet but with a happy ending.

I want to break free Good Omens Au! An angel and a demon lose the antichrist and pine for each other for 6000 years now with Tma characters.

Buttons and Keys A Coraline Au with Jonah as the main character. It has two sequels covering Paranorman and Labyrinth if you like the verse. A personal favourite of mine because Coraline is one of my favourite movies.

They are only human The Magnus archives but with supernatural creatures hiding in plain sight, turns out Gerry was wrong and there are more creatures than just the fears going around. Peter is very aware of it, unfortunately Elias is not.

God damn you got me in love again Urban Fantasy somewhere else. Peter is a witch and Elias is demon working on a flowershop and tatto shop respectively.

There are a lot of more i could mention but these are some fics i really love.

#lonelyeyes #peter lukas #elias bouchard #tma #the magnus archives #myficf #flurby fics #rec list

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earlgreyinpajamas · 1 year

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merthur fic recs: arranged marriage pt 2

1. kiss with a sword by Aro_Tarot (@aro-tarot), princessoftheworlds (@princess-of-the-worlds)

Queen Morgana rules Mount Olympus with an iron fist, and when she proposes a match between god of spring Emrys and her estranged brother — the god of death Arthur —there can be no refusing.But in the Underworld, Emrys, who prefers to be called Merlin, discovers that his marriage comes with a catch: his new husband resents his sister and her realm, and has no time for Merlin. Quickly, their mutual apathy turns to mutual loathing. Arthur grapples with his new marriage and holding onto his resentments while Merlin seemingly finds himself with only one option — to overthrow Arthur and install himself as the ruler of the Underworld.

~~~

merlin literally tries to overthrow his husband and it’s a the great meets persephone and hades au so you have to read it

2. It Was One Kingdom, Once by queerofthedagger (@queerofthedagger)

“He cursed me. I’m coughing up flowers, Gaius—what other possible explanation is there?”

“Well, there is—”

“He was mad at me, it’s exactly something he would do. Infuriating, obnoxious, goddamned sorcerer that he is probably finds it funny to—”

It is said that the sins of the father should not be cast upon the son. Unfortunately, a father's miscalculated bargain can still come back to haunt you—Arthur is twenty-one, has a kingdom to rule, and apparently, a magically binding marriage contract with the Prince of Escetir. Prince Merlin, who has magic, a dragon, great dislike for Arthur, and still no intention to back out of the contract.

The worst part is, to a degree, Arthur understands—as a sorcerer, he wouldn't trust Uther Pendragon's son either. So he simply has to convince Merlin that he can be trusted, and the contract can be broken while they secure peace between Camelot and Escetir. It's a good plan.

Right up until forces conspire against both their kingdoms, more secrets come to light, and Arthur starts coughing up flowers.

~~~

fjhfhajlkf hanahaki + royal au!!!!!

3. To Love, Honor, and Piss Off by thenerdyindividual (@thenerdyindividual)

King Arthur, Newly Crowned, Conqueror of Essetir, has been informed that he is out of touch with the common folk. In order for that to change he must take on a Common Consort for three years, a spouse that will help him keep the interest of his poorest subjects in mind. Unfortunately, he winds up with Merlin.

~~~

ugh the separation angst TT (but don’t worry there’s a happy ending!)

#merlin x arthur #merlin fic #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur fic rec #merthur fanfic #merthur fanfiction #merthur fluff #merthur fic #merthur fic recs #arranged marriage #pining!Arthur #pining!Merlin #pining arthur #pining #mutual pining

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i-bring-crack · 9 months

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to add PAIN to concept Immortal/Reincarnator AU

when pieces find each other and merge for a new life (child) they slowly wither away and die because their purpose was fulfilled

it becomes a story of a ‘curse’ in Jin-Chul’s family, and that’s how he became orphaned, since his parents fulfilled their duty

and then Jin-Chul finding out that he and Jin-Woo are also akin to soulmates and he chokes on fear, afraid to pursue anything with his other half because he knows that once soulmates find each other in his family, they wither and die. He’s not afraid of death, he’s afraid of losing other just like his mother lost her husband first and then withered like a dying flower herself right in front of his eyes.

he doesn’t even know that he’s the final result of soulmate bonds and what he has with Jin-Woo is a completely separate matter—

That would then mean that he reaaaally had no one like AT all, no aunts or uncles or nieces or nephews or even grandparents for that matter, which I think would inflict quite a generational trauma of the patents not wanting to fall in love with one another and then still doing and some regretting it quite a lot to the point that it gets inflicted on jinchul as his parents keep telling him to never EVER fall in love with someone and much less have a child with them.

(Extra f up is the fact that all the love is gone the moment the fragments have a child because they have already finished colliding and therefore the strong pull is now weakened or completely gone. And so every child grows up with parents that don't love each other, some that try but end up failing, some that are neutral, some that maintain some sort of bond but none have that bond from before which leaves people to try and search for a stronger love than their parents, and as soon as they find it with a nother Fragment, they are weak to that love and the cycle repeats again.)

Also I forgot to wonder just WHERE did the fragments end up? Did they really all end up on earth? Cuz it would be cool if at some point Earth did have magical races that wished to fall in love and reproduce with humans since they also had fragments of the Absolute Being and that's where stories of monsters came from. And since the fragments along with the monster's would die early, many saw the beasts as bad since their humans only lived such a small life compared to the rest.

Anyways Jinchul would probably have pieces of those monsters and humans alike,[ I legit this could also play a role of how the new version of the Absolute Being of the world HAS the blood of ALL his creations.] which — and get this— when the gates start appearing and he awakens, he is already good at speaking the monster lenguage but he doesn't know that because he hardly ever goes inside gates, and when he does the monsters keep screaming that they want to kill humanity and stuff so he doesn't think much of it. High ranking demons can speak human lenguage too after all so he doesn't get interested in those ideas...

Until all the sudden he starts to feel the fragments shake around him and feel bad, like for some reason he feels emotional about the deaths but also... thrilled? He can't understand it and tried to devoid himself of those emotions as much as he can.

There could also be a point where Jin-Chul's mana begins to change little by little as he get closer to jinwoo, he keeps waking up having nightmares of loosing someone that looks like jinwoo but isn't [I always headcanoned ashborn to look the same as Jinwoo but more beautiful, older and with straight white long/purple wavy hair instead of the natural black colors] and it gives jinchul more reason to not fall in love with jinwoo. At the same time he is also having some shifts in his hair or his body, it hurt so much like a hanahaki disease but instead of flowers his entire body is having these masks of shock but ate hidden because most of them are just in his chest. His mortal body can't take all the power of a God and its trying to go back to the same way it was before, with the same hair and skin the Absolute Being had, even killing all of his memories so that the universe can once again have its creator back but jinchul doesn't want that, he only wants to love like a mortal, and even then HE STILL THINKS that all of this is being caused because he doesn't want to love his soulmate.

[There is one plot hole tho and that is that these bitches gay, but I guess you could still argue that the fragments could still find one another and then mix into a child that they could adopt, so that way jinchul still fears the outcomes even though they can't biologically produce.]

[To add even more angst, the fragments could also fie true other means but gruesome, since the only thing that was keeping them alive and protected where the fragments inside their hearts, then the moment they are passed down to the children, suddenly fate tries to kill them in horrible ways because they are supposed to "exist anymore"

#solo leveling #sung jin woo #woo jin chul #chulsung #chulwoo #woo jin chul x sung jin woo #au

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isolarya · 10 months

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flower husbands is perfect hanahaki material.

(uh so I may or may not be making a new au- will probably talk about this later)

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #hanahaki

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dairy-farmer · 10 months

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Omg what if the hanahaki au but in the later years-- where Timkon has a child and a small comfy house in the country, close enough to ma's and pa's but far enough that they have to drive. It's comforting, so sweetly domestic and warm and loving. It's Tim's childhood dream and he's patting his currently flat stomach with another child inside it.

The phone rings.

The phone rings and Tim feels an odd tug at his heart- like it's going to be bad news- horrible news. The kind you see in movies of tragedy where nothing ever goes right.

He picks up the phone and once he does he lets out the most blood-curdling scream in his entire life.

Kon was hurt. *Badly* hurt. He wasn't dead yet, but with his condition he already practically was.

Tim rushes to the hospital, frantically dropping off his confused toddler to ma's and pa's and speedily rushing his way to the hospital-- everyone is already there. Clark, Jon, Lois, and-- and on the bed was Kon. His Kon. The beeping monitor is beside him, showing a slow steady heartbeat.

Through tears, clark explains a mission gone wrong. Kon's been hit with some intense magic that no magician could fix-- John and Zatanna have both tried, everybody tried every connection they had- it was no good. Kon was as good as dead.

They said they should just pull the plug, there was no other hope of saving Kon. All they were doing was giving each other a false sense of hope and not letting kon's body rot under dirt.

Tim screams at them, telling them no, to 'fuck off! He's mine! He's my husband, my soulmate!' And vehemently refuses to pull the plug.

The superfamily look at each other and leave and a few days later the batfamily arrive, black smudges and spots where their soulmarks used to be. Through some luck they manage to convince Tim to let Kon go. Tim pulls the plug and once he does-- he feels the most soul-crushing pain. His soulmark. His soulmark was changing back to before when the bats were-- he looks at the splotches of black on the bat's bodies. Its his soulmark. *Their* soulmark. Tim collapses.

When he wakes up, he's in a hospital gown and his family is beside him. They tell him that they lost the child in his belly and... and they're soulmates again.

Tim hisses at them, telling them to go away, that his soulmate is *dead* and nothing can ever change that. They're not his soulmate and they never will be.

Anyway etc in the end, Tim is forced to move back into the manor with his child. His child is trying his best for his mama to stay happy, but without the literal love of your life beside you it's hard.

The batfam try to cheer him up. After all, the mark back on their skin should say that they can fix tim, right? The mark back on their skin says its their second chance, right?

So they try. And Tim. Tim doesn't outright reject. He doesn't accept either though, and they wonder if being rejected outwardly would hurt less. They aren't loved. They aren't wanted. They're just.. they're not even an object for Tim to fixiate on. Tim is a former shell of himself and they're terrified that nothing will ever fix him ever again- until they see Tim smiling while stroking the cheek of his child.

Like a lightbulb moment they gasp. Of course! A child! What better way to bring him back than a child-- so they tell tim that they should try for a baby.

And Tim just. Blankly says yes. It takes a few tries-- each time Tim is the best pussy they've ever had but the look in his eyes. It was a need. The sex, the feeling of being knocked up by a naked cock- it was a need and not a want. There's no love in that stare. No devotion. No care. Tim has rejected them in his heart. That's the first bud of their flower grown inside their lung.

When Tim gets pregnant they were ecstatic. Finally! A chance to love them, a chance to be accepted-- and silently. The silent pride of the fact that they now have what they once lost.

This could end in two ways. The waynes being some sort of picture perfect family on paper where they have a little wife and two (or more) kids but Tim doesn't love them, tim has a favorite child- the one with Kon and his kids love tim yeah but they're also a bit angry over not being as loved as the first child and angry at the first child for having all of tim's love.

Somehow Kon comes back to life and Tim rejects the waynes and his child with them to be with kon again.

oh! i think i already answered this ask in an earlier post only without tim being convinced to take them back and kon coming back to life😢😢😢!

if kon did come back to life, even without his soulmark- tim would absolutely leave his "soulmate" for him, taking along the children he's had while kon was gone because those are HIS babies not theirs and those babies are so happy to meet their daddy that their mama had told them all about!!!!! the waynes losing their soulmate and children because tim loves his babies and initially it helped him cope with the loss of his and kon's baby but now it was because kon had come back and was a little confused at all these new chubby cheeked babies but he's more than happy to love them as well because anything that comes from tim is something kon wants to love!!!

kon and tim haivng their family back, this time bigger with a few more additions while tim's other "soulmate" is left behind with nothing but flowers in their lungs.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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zipegs · 7 months

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alana & chilton // 905 words, g, past hannibloom // ao3 written for day 5 of fad’s au challenge: hanahaki

The first flower petal Alana coughs up is a bright yellow tansy. She fishes it out of her mouth with trembling fingers and stares at its wet, fragile form. Hostility, she thinks dumbly. A declaration of war.

A small, desperate part of her wonders whether Hannibal, wherever he is, might be suffering the same. Her affliction has taken root because the man she loved was never anything more than a facade.

But his... If he fell ill, Alana wonders, what flowers would bloom first in his fertile lungs? Lavender, perhaps. Or yellow carnation.

She crushes the tansy in her fist and holds her hand out over the edge of her hospital bed.

Hannibal doesn't love you, she tells herself. No version of him ever did.

Maybe one day, it will start to sink in.

She opens her palm and lets the petal fall.

---

It's not long before the medical staff notices. Alana expected as much, but she hates how they've begun to look at her, with the same pity and gentleness one would show an injured stray.

She starts coughing one morning while a nurse is taking her vitals and can't seem to stop, props herself up on one elbow despite the pain that blossoms in her hips and chokes on a purple sliver of bittersweet.

The nurse tuts when she sees it catch on Alana's lip and lifts it carefully away, turns it over in front of her as though by doing so it might take on some different form.

"My aunt dealt with these," the nurse says, shaking her head. "Truth." She huffs out a humorless laugh. "She couldn't understand why she kept getting them until she found her husband's credit card receipts."

If only it were as simple as adultery, Alana thinks darkly. The nurse pats her shoulder consolingly, and Alana forces a tight-lipped smile. She wonders what truth the bittersweet is meant to call to mind. There are so many lies to untangle that it's nearly impossible to start.

Alana closes her eyes and clears her scratchy throat. She's been dreaming about her residency again, a world where all she knew of Hannibal was that he was beautiful and brilliant and kind. She'd go back there, if she could. Even if just for a single moment.

Alana has treated victims of relationship trauma before, distraught young lovers who sob on her small purple couch. They say they can't understand how this happened, that this person who hurts them is a stranger wearing their partner's skin.

You think it's a nightmare, she tells them sometimes, but this was always what was hidden beneath their facade. You've woken up—you've emerged from that perfect dream. I know that it's hard. But there is no going back. It's gone.

Alana stares at the empty white ceiling and wonders if every therapist has trouble reconciling their own advice.

---

Chilton lets himself into Alana's room just as she's hacking up the petals of two delicate pink crabapple blossoms, and he doesn't do her the graciousness of letting it go.

He lifts his bouquet in greeting, and the butcher paper and cellophane crinkle with laughter.

"I brought you flowers," Chilton drawls, the good side of his face tugging up in an amused smile, "but it seems I shouldn't have bothered. You've already got your own."

Alana settles back against her pillows and stares up at the ceiling again, refusing to give Chilton the honor of seeing her unsettled. "They come in pieces," she says drily, with a nonchalance she doesn't feel. "It'll be nice to have some in their undamaged form."

Chilton strolls over to the side of Alana's bed and sets the flowers on her bedside table, then gestures at the petals lying on her stark white sheets. "May I?" he asks, already hovering his fingers over their vibrant form.

"Go ahead."

He picks them up at one end and lifts them with evident distaste and curiosity, like a child showing off a decapitated worm. "Hmmm," he muses, "Crabapple blossoms. Rather pedestrian for someone in your circumstance; wouldn't you say?"

"There's a relief to be found in the expected," Alana says. "I've grown tired of surprises. Haven't you?"

Chilton hums and brushes off his fingers, letting the petals flutter to the floor. "How long until you start retching up full blossoms?"

Alana shrugs. "Difficult to say. Eager to be rid of me so soon?"

"Not exactly." Chilton fingers the silver head of his cane. "You got yourself to this garden, Dr. Bloom, but there are ways to... uproot it, so to speak."

Alana turns her head to look at him, attentive for the first time since he stepped foot in her hospital room. "You don't strike me as the charitable type," she says, uncertain of his aim.

Chilton shrugs a shoulder, and his lips twitch into a grin. "The enemy of my enemy..." He taps his cane lightly on the linoleum. "How long, do you think," he asks, "until Will Graham has reentered Hannibal's orbit?"

Alana lifts an eyebrow, and her own lips curl into a hint of a smile. "Not long. And with a little manipulation..."

Chilton hums. They watch each other for a moment, and then Chilton sniffs and makes his way to the door. "Once you're released from medical care," he says, "you know where to find me."

When he leaves, Alana's breath catches, and she coughs again.

This time, she spits out a purple columbine.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibloom #alana bloom #frederick chilton #hannibal fic #mine #mine: writing #fadserver

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icedmatchatae · 1 year

Text

Cien Años | KNJ

Pairing: Best Friend Namjoon x Best Friend Reader

Genre: Hanahaki AU, Angst, Fluff (barely)

Summary: A sad story of two best friends who loved each other for different reasons.

Warning: UR GONNA BE SAD, namjoon being in denial, oc being out of the loop, flashbacks :(, a lot of crying from everyone, mentions of death (nobody dies tho!), mentions of surgery, illness, unrequited love, there's somewhat of a happy ending!

Word count: 15.1k because I'm a menace

Note: Italics are flashbacks.

A/N: Inspired by the song "Cien Años" by Natalia Lafourcade & Pepe Aguilar. My friends told me to write a story about it...so I did.

I've also cross-posted this originally on AO3 as well! Enjoy~~~

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.

Trembling fingers gripping onto your daisy bouquet as you controlled your shaky breathing. You faced the closed doors, waiting for the queue. One by one, you saw your bridesmaids leave you until you were alone. A light sheen of sweat expanded on your back; luckily, the laced fabric hid your nervousness of today.

What awaited inside would be your most anticipated life-changing event yet. Once you leave there, two souls become one, purposeful promises are committed with expected hardship to overcome. The day you are officially united with the love of your life.

You’ve been waiting for this day, and you couldn’t wait any longer. At the other side of the doors, there stood your soon-to-be husband smiling like a maniac. You wanted this so badly, nervous because the ceremony separated you from your soulmate. But it’ll be okay.

Because he was worth it.

He was dressed in a suit with his hands intertwined behind his back.

His mouth opened in awe at the sight of you. You slowly walked down the aisle with your father at your left side. His arm linked firmly around yours. With bittersweet eyes, he looked like he didn’t want to let you go but knew he had to for the best.

Your dress flowed down with grace, the train behind dragging along the carpeted floor. Your effortless beauty that it shined through your sheer veil. You held onto your favorite flowers, handpicked by him, and will forever keep them in your memories.

Your smile beamed through your family, friends, and esteemed guests, but he could tell how anxious you were deep inside. He knew how much love you had in you, how much soul and care you had to offer. He knew everything about you. After all—

Namjoon has loved you ever since you were younger.

When you first met Namjoon, you were about 11. The smartest nerd in school was your partner for a science project. Between the introduction and the first place win, you’ve gotten to know him much better and enjoyed his presence.

It baffled you to discover the lanky boy with thick-rimmed rectangular glasses and who wore velcro shoes listened to Nas and Eminem. Did you mention that he had a bowl cut? Because he did.

He only fascinated you, even more, wanting to befriend you, not realizing he would be one of the most influential people in your life. He quickly became your best friend, and you were inseparable. You graduated high school and college together and even were roommates for many years.

You never saw life without him, your best friend.

Being together more than half of your life, Namjoon didn’t realize the day he met you was the first sign of him falling in love with you.

“Why do you have so much sugar?” Namjoon questioned, observing you next to him when you pulled out a ziplock bag of sugar packets. You pulled one out and ripped it open. You shook the pouch over your mouth, collecting the sweetener on your taste buds. He unapologetically grimaced at you.

“It’s a snack; also, since my mom said I’m too young to drink coffee, I took all of the sugar in our house since I get so much energy.” You simply explained, offering him a packet.

He paused and sighed, joining you in eating packets and packets until you both were a giggling mess.

You were pretty odd, almost lacking social cues, but he couldn’t be one to talk since he was awkward himself. Your aura was not something he was used to, but he never regretted it and grew to love your unusualness. It was one of the characteristics of why he loved you dearly.

Your bright smile, aggravating yet endearing personality, and how much you gave yourself to others wholeheartedly created a rippling effect on his heart. But almost too much as it lets you get hurt by others.

He remembered the day you came home with shedding tears falling on your face. He was working on a group essay in your shared living room with Jimin, a friend and peer from his classes, when a loud bang disrupted their concentration.

“He cheated on me!” You sobbed as you dropped your things to the wooden floor. You quickly spotted your best friend and tackled him. You clutched onto his shirt, pushing your head into his chest with your cries staining the fabric.

Without second-guessing, Namjoon wrapped his arms around your fragile form, kissing your hair. He rubbed your back as you continued to sob at your broken heart. He eyed Jimin, apologizing for the interruption, but he understood. The shorter man gestured for him to text him later before departing your home.

After your weeping died down, you explained how you saw your boyfriend of seven months cuddling and making out with another girl at a coffee shop on the other side of the city from where you lived. With the bit of courage you had, you confronted Seokjin and threw your boiling hot tea at him before running away.

Namjoon was angry for you and wanted to beat Seokjin up for doing this to you. But what’s worse, this wasn’t the first time something had happened. You were hurt by many others before because you gave too quickly; you gave the benefit of the doubt to those undeserving of it.

You tried your best to learn from your mistake and took extra precautions, but somehow the next man in your life gets trickier and more conniving than the last.

“Why does this happen to me?”

You sat on your apartment complex’s rooftop, looking at the bright glowing city. It was past midnight; Namjoon thought it was a great idea to get some convenience store snacks and ramen while you get some fresh air.

“Like was I a descendent of Judas?” You rhetorically asked.

“I’m not a theology major, but I don’t think Judas had any children.” He pointed out as he slurped his noodles.

You glared at him and his intelligence, “Don’t correct me now.” You slammed your ramen bowl on the makeshift table made from a stack of wooden pallets. “I thought he was the one.”

“I know you’re hurt, flower. Hurt is only temporary. You’ll heal; it’ll take time, though. It’s really shitty that it happened to you.” His comforting words eased your emotional state, using his nickname for you.

It wasn’t anything cute. He only does it because you told him you used to eat flowers when you were younger. Your parents were scared and brought you to the hospital, it was a whole thing, but he liked to pick on you and made sure you wouldn’t forget your stupidity.

“Is there something wrong with me? Be honest.” You genuinely asked. Your puffy eyes met his, waiting for his response.

He stared at you. Underneath the full moon and the illumination from the cityscape, faint shadows fell onto your features. Your irises sparkled with the dimming sense of hope in you. He hated seeing you like this, seeing the light in you slowly giving up.

He placed down his bowl before reaching for your hands. He intertwined your fingers together, comparing the size difference between you two. He grinned lightly, but enough to display the dimples on his cheeks.

“Seokjin was stupid and never realized what was before him.” He answered, licking his lips and tasting the spice of the meal. Your mouth curled at his words, holding his fingers tightly around yours. “Nothing is wrong with you, just your taste in men.”

“Hey!” You let go of him and slapped his shoulder, pouting your lips. “Stop it!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He chuckled, putting his hands in surrender.

“I’m questioning why you’re my best friend.” You seethed through your teeth.

“Flower, you’re one of the most special people.”

You snorted at his comment, “Nice try.”

“It’s true.” He countered. His smile faded a little, noticing your lack of confidence. “Special people like you will get infinite wishes that your little heart desires. Everything you hope for will come true. You’ll get what you truly deserve, flower. It’ll just take time.”

You gazed back at him. The twinkling lights in your pupils appeared at his reassurance. “Thank you, Joon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was a common exchange between you two, but little did Namjoon know, it held a deeper meaning.

Though Seokjin never saw what was in front of him, Namjoon never noticed what he had until it was too late.

Years passed, and you eventually moved on from your heartbreak, having Namjoon by your side. You seemed happier and cheerful while he watched you. But you never were with anyone ever since.

You went on to bigger and better things, like landing a high-paying corporate job after college. Namjoon also was doing well, from being an intern climbed his way to the top in being the art curator at the national museum. You were both proud of each other and your accomplishment, always cheered one another on when times got tough.

However, despite your successes, you agreed it was time to move out of your janky apartment and part ways. It was a harsh transition since you’ve seen each other every day for over ten years, but you made it work. You promised to text and call every day and update anything that happened.

Namjoon could never leave you and you the same back. Again, you and he were inseparable.

You two scheduled dinner at the end of the week. Ever since you got promoted, your schedule restricted you from spending time with him, but you kept your promise to call and text. Namjoon was currently working on his first major project for the museum and was excited to tell you all about it. You couldn’t wait either.

But for now, he had lunch with Jimin at a café since the shorter finally had time in his hectic residency life.

“It was so wild. I saw anything like it before.” Jimin talked about a patient he had and their diagnosis, Hanahaki Disease.

Jimin explained how Hanahaki Disease was this exponentially progressing illness that stemmed from unrequited love. Flowers–the popular indication of the disease–bloom in the person’s lungs and heart and can only be intensified. His patient had stage four of this Hanahaki Disease.

“I’ve read about it in the books, and cases were rare. Seeing it first hand was very tragic.” Jimin sighed, recalling his experience.

“What does stage four mean?” Though Namjoon was skeptical, he was interested in this so-called disease.

“It means the roots from the flowers have grown into his respiratory system. He came in choking on his blood and coughing up sunflowers.”

“Why sunflower?”

“It was his wife’s favorite flowers.” Jimin’s face gloomed lower. “Poor guy caught her cheating, and the painful love was too strong.”

Namjoon hissed at the thought, “I feel for him.”

“Yeah, so at that point, he either dies or gets surgery to remove the roots.” The shorter concluded. “Sorry for the depressing story, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You’re good, man,” Namjoon reassured. “Though you saw it, it’s quite an unusual diagnosis, don’t you think? I mean, doesn’t it sound far-fetched? Like love really made that happen?”

“It does, but you won’t think that way if you saw it in front of you. Love can do a lot to someone.” Jimin reasoned back. “There’s little evidence on it, but it does happen.”

The pairing sat in silence, processing the tragic story. Namjoon wondered how severe love has to be for you to end up like that. He had never really experienced that kind of love before; it wasn’t hard to love, in his opinion, but loving someone had to be chosen wisely and thoughtfully. Love shouldn’t hurt.

“Anyways, besides me and flower vomiting patients, how are you and the art life?” Jimin changed the subject to a lighter feel. He knew about Namjoon’s project and was impatient to see the final product. “How’s the project? What was it about again?”

“It’s going great. Stressful, but I’m enjoying every bit of it.” He smiled, thinking about his passion. “I guess your story was a great transition to my project. It’s about love. Various meanings and interpretations of love worldwide, so I’ve been obtaining many pieces overseas to display them.”

“Ahh, so you’re gonna get typical ones like The Kiss by Gustav Klimt or that one by Picasso?” Jimin semi-mocked, incorporating very little knowledge about art.

“No, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Namjoon rolled his eyes, munching on his salad. “The museum wanted me to go through a different approach and find more modern and recent artists.”

“So, like up and coming artists?” The shorter asked, and he hummed in response. “I guess, what type of approach are you having with love?”

“Well, love is more than a feeling. It’s hard to put into words. It’s an essence that can be explained through various points of view.”

“Yeah, Mr. Smartass. Stop being so technical!”

“I’m just saying! Love causes emotions. It’s a concept to profess desires and connectedness to someone within an individual, so that’s why that Hanahaki Disease seems exaggerated.” Namjoon argued his thoughts. “I’m not saying love doesn’t exist or anything. It’s here somewhere.”

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend.” Jimin scoffed, leaning back into his chair. Namjoon ignored his comment like usual before his phone pinged a message.

It was you, and he was delighted to open it. A picture of your lunch, or rather lunches. He saw another plate from the opposite end of the table. It was probably Ryujin, your coworker buddy you spent your time with.

“Is that ___?” Jimin had a devilish smile on him.

“Yeah?? What about it?” Namjoon replied to you with, “Bruh, that looks bomb. Enjoy!” And locked his screen before paying attention to his friend before him. “You know we communicate a lot.”

“Yes, I know the many instances.” Jimin agreed. “But seeing you smile just by a text says more than you say. Actions speak louder than words!”

“Jimin, we’re not going through with this again.” The taller shook his head at his friend’s persistence. “I told you I don’t love her like that. She’s been my best friend for years!”

“Yeah, but I don’t see you giggling, kicking your feet, and twirling your hair thinking about me.” Jimin retorted, folding his arms over his chest. “You probably don’t notice it since you’ve been with her all this time, but you give one another so much, more than friends usually do.”

“Maybe, it’s just you because you end up sleeping with your opposite gendered friends.”

“Hey, that was three times! And I was drunk for two.”

“Point is that ___ and I have been best friends for years . Neither of us did anything like that in the time being and never will.”

“Because you never made a move and acknowledged yo—”

“Jimin.” Namjoon interrupted sternly, wanting to end this conversation. Jimin never understood your friendship with him and constantly suspected that there was something more than what met the eyes. He could sense it, but Namjoon refused to listen.

“Fine, I’ll stop.” Jimin sighed. “At least acknowledge my words.”

Namjoon gulped his iced coffee and thinned his lips, “Maybe.”

He should have listened.

After dinner, he took you to the museum. Due to his respected status, he had the privilege of possessing the keys to artistic treasures. It was a way for him to move back and forth with any work beyond the public hours. And because you had the privilege of being his best friend, you could see the Love exhibition he finalized that morning and now waiting for the official opening in two weeks.

The stepping of your heels echoed within the empty museum. Your eyes scanned through the beautiful artwork before you, enchanted by the different styles and meanings, yet they all revolved around one concept: love.

You stole little glances of Namjoon, his attention invested in the paintings as he passed by you. You appreciated his passion for his job, bringing purpose to his life and those around him. He gave you comfort and solace in your chaotic life, and no amount of gratitude can equate to his actions and words.

However, you were nervous around him this time, playing out what to say and do. Sure, he never cared before, but you were a bit self-conscious with this one. You wanted to approach it right. After all, what he said and did matters to you. He was important.

Your eyes landed on a particular piece, never seeing anything like it. The painting contained four bodies. Two of which embraced one another on top of a hill as birds and flowers bloomed around them. Hues resembled joy and, of course, love. As you shifted down the mountain, the third subject laid down, surrounded by colors of gloom and sorrow. Wilting flora consumed the body. The complete opposite of the couple on top. However, the final form was rather strange because you barely saw it. You could see the background behind it, almost like a ghost.

“I see you found my favorite piece in the exhibit.” Your best friend announced with a grin. You were too into the painting to realize he stood by you. He carefully inspected the artwork, absorbing the emotions it gave and the purpose of the artist’s creation.

“Why is your favorite?” You wondered, your eyes still attentive to the piece.

“To be honest, I’ve met with the artist before during my work trip in Mexico. Great guy, his interpretations were so philosophical that it expanded my knowledge that it only left me wanting more from him.” Namjoon expressed. “This is my favorite piece because, for once, he had something that portrayed a specific visual he wanted to convey, and I’m also sure that many people can relate.”

“And that is?”

“It’s a story.” He began. “A depressing one. Once upon a time, a man and woman fell in love, and they lived happily ever.”

“That doesn’t sound too sad.” You chuckled.

“You didn’t let me finish.” He mentioned, making you shut your mouth. “As the couple danced to their love, they never realized that someone from afar also fell in love with her. That’s him.” He pointed to the covered body. “All the flowers he sent her returned to him, and he slowly died from it. The last body is him, but he’ll forever roam the world with this emptiness inside. But at the very least, he can stay afar, looking at her and seeing her happy.”

“Ouch, that fucking hurts.” You pouted at his description. No one should ever go through that.

“The painting is called Cien Años by Pepe Lafourcade.” He informed. “Pepe said if he lived 100 years, he’d think of her for 100 years.”

“Tragically captivating.” You nodded before shifting your eyes onto your best friend, who was already gazing at you.

Namjoon swore his world stopped by witnessing you and your very radiant form. You looked much healthier now, caring for yourself and enhancing your beauty more than yesterday but less than tomorrow. He observed a new necklace on you, perhaps a treat for your hard work, he assumed. You deserved it. You always did. He saw you like you were the only one in the world, his world.

And no one could compare to you.

He wished to be with you as long as he could.

His stare flustered you a bit; you’ve never seen anything like it. You thought you were seeing things and had some assumptions in your mind. But you merely pushed them because they weren’t necessary anymore.

You broke the eye contact as you focused on your feet. You had to speak to him. “Joon?”

“Yes, flower?” He crouched down, trying to find your eyes, laughing at how timid you were. It was peculiar to act like this with him. He didn’t want to say anything when you first met up. He wanted you to tell him naturally.

You gave up and finally faced him again. Your large doe eyes were his favorite; he never told you but enjoyed seeing them. “I have to tell you something. Something important.”

“Oh, how important?”

“Kinda big? Uh, serious, actually.”

“How so,” He was being playful, but that’s only because he was unaware of how much the words that came out of you will affect him in the long run.

“I’ve been dating this guy for the past six months…uhhh, Jungkook is his name, and I’m falling in love with him.”

Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook.

Namjoon’s attention focused on you as you reached the end of the aisle. Your father gave you a goodbye kiss before he lets go of you. You turned away from him and smiled gently, with giggles in between biting your lips. The unconditional true love flashed in your eyes.

But it wasn’t directed towards him.

Instead, it was for the man in front of him. The groom.

Jeon Jungkook.

The love of your life.

“I’m sorry, who?”

Namjoon was utterly stunned at what you just said. You were dating someone for a while, and you didn’t tell him? Your best friend? Now you’re in love with that guy?

“His name is Jungkook, and we—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He felt offended and angry by your decision. It wasn’t like you. You told him everything. You told him about Seokjin the second you talked to him. The name was vaguely familiar. He had heard it before. Wait—

“Isn’t he your boss?” Namjoon asked incredulously.

“Well, not anymore. I got promoted and transferred to another department, remember?” You tried your best to explain yourself. “I mean, he technically is. He runs part of the corporation.”

“W-why? H-how?”

“We had to keep it a secret. I couldn’t tell you….”

“Couldn’t tell me? Me, your best friend?” He forced a laugh, but there was nothing funny in his tone.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Flower, how could you be so fucking stupid like that? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

Namjoon regretted those words the second they came out of his mouth. Your facial expression said it all, insulted and hurt by your best friend. Your face became sour with your lips trembling. God, you hated how sensitive you were being. But like you said, what he said or did mean so much to you.

So it hurt when he didn’t support you.

He took a step towards you, but you stepped back. “___, I—”

“I thought you’d understand.” Your eyes were glossy, blinking away to fight the hurt from being released. You shook your head, “Like how my best friend usually is. I thought you would be supportive.”

Silence drowned you two. Namjoon had no words, all he could think about was how much he disappointed you. You said nothing and couldn’t bother dealing with him. Like what he told you if you didn’t want to deal with the situation right now, just walk away.

So you did, leaving him alone in the museum as you called Jungkook to pick you up.

Namjoon couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling right now. His breath shivered at this indescribable tension in his stomach and chest. His fingers were finicky, needing to do something to keep the thoughts at bay. But all through his mind was you. He remained unfocused, especially since you didn’t reply to his texts or answer his calls. The unknown of what you were doing and how you felt bothered him, distracting his brain away from everything around him.

You were in love with your boss, and he had no idea. He couldn’t recollect any hints or say about you dating someone. Sure, you’ve gotten happier, but he thought it was because of him…that you were spending your time with him…

If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t mad that you didn’t tell him. It was probably the rational thing to do since Jungkook was well-known in the business—Namjoon had to search him up. It was most likely to keep word from spreading, and no one knew.

In fact, he was more uncomfortable than you were with someone. He has seen what happened to you in the past and didn’t want you to get hurt. He knew nothing about this Jungkook guy and feared the worst from him yet.

It was the night of the official opening of his exhibition, and you still weren’t talking. This was the longest you haven’t spoken to each other. It made Namjoon stay up at night running a busy mind. He started getting worried, thinking he fucked up your whole friendship and his shitty remarks. He was so upset with himself that he wasn’t feeling well.

Namjoon was weary for a couple of weeks, with a scratchy throat and a loss of appetite. It was probably stress from everything that was going on with planning and, of course, his dilemma with you. Hopefully, after tonight, he’ll be a little bit better. Though he begged to differ when he developed slight coughing in the morning.

The murmur of guests crowded the museum’s main lobby, some of the artists that he collected for the exhibit also attended. Unfortunately, Pepe wasn’t here due to conflicting schedules, but he gave his wishes to Namjoon.

People went up to him, admiring and congratulating him and his work. Namjoon could only smile politely and share his thanks. It was a big day for him, and if it was a success, it’d open him to a new world of the arts. Famous artists and museums would know him, and his approach to his work would get recognized by many.

Yet, his mood was down, hoping that a certain someone would see him on a day like this.

“Sup, bro!!” A few invitees glowered at the person for the loud disruption, but he did not care. “Calm down, don’t give me dirty eyes. I’m probably more educated than all of you combined.”

One of the security guards came toward his friend, “Excuse me, si—”

“It’s Dr. Park,” Jimin corrected before grabbing a flute of champagne from the waiter. The guard was about to protest, but Namjoon raised his hand, reassuring them that he was, unfortunately, an important guest. He winked cheekily at him through his slit-like eyes with his pride held high. Security glared at the doctor once more before leaving the premises.

“Jimin, don’t make a scene. It’s bad enough they see us together.” Namjoon exhaled, swirling his drink with a straw.

“How is it bad? We’re besties! I’m so proud of you.” Jimin shrugged but slowly changed his tone to a more serious one as he looked at his friend’s expression. “What’s wrong? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine, just been coughing since this morning.” Namjoon cleared his throat, but the shorter knew there was much more.

“Haven’t talked to her since?”

Namjoon sighed and nodded, “I’m worried I fucked our friendship.”

The doctor bit back his tongue. He needed to comfort his friend now, then tell him off later. “She’s upset, but it won’t be enough to stop your friendship. She’ll come around; she just needs time.”

“I know, but—” Namjoon swore he stopped breathing. From across the room, he spotted you. He didn’t think you’d come. His pupils dilated at your appearance. You were absolutely breathtaking like you were prized artwork in the museum, capturing the hearts of anyone who came by.

His heart weirdly skipped a beat.

Your eyes met his, then smiled at his success and waved. You headed in his direction. However, the closer you came, the more he realized you weren’t alone.

Hand in hand, a tall, strong-built man followed by you. His round eyes observed the area while his mouth was agape at the ambiance. His features were strong yet soft, and he looked approachable. He was around your age, reasonably young for someone running part of a whole corporation.

“Joon,” You greeted before letting go of the man to hug your best friend. You shocked him, his body stiffening up, then relaxing at your familiar warmth and comfort. He wrapped his arms around you, firming his grip. “Congratulations!”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes watered up, not realizing that he had held back tears since that night. You were finally here with him, and the emotions let loose.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.” You promised as you pulled away to look at his face. Some tears fell down to which you wiped them off with your gentle thumbs. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply; that was a bitch move.”

“No, you had every reason.” He begged to differ. “I didn’t even give you a chance to speak.”

“Next time, we’ll communicate better.” You proposed, and he nodded quickly, knowing that your friendship remained strong as ever.

“Yay, you made up. What about me?” Jimin pushed his way into you. You giggled and hugged him too.

“Hello, Dr. Park. Long time no see, looking dangerous as ever.” You said.

“Hello, ____. Long time no see, Looking ravishing as ever. And yes, always dangerous, but no one needs to know.” He smiled boldly, then shifted his attention to the man biting his lips, holding a bouquet. “Who might this be?”

All your attention goes towards the newcomer, bulging his eyes but letting out a bunny-like smile. Carrying some flowers with one hand, he used the other to wave and bow.

“This is Jungkook…my boyfriend.” You revealed to the two men.

Right on cue, Namjoon coughed harshly. He gulped some water and tried clearing his throat again. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he gave you an okay signal.

“Jungkook, this is Namjoon.”

Jungkook handed you the bouquet, then he went up to the taller man and shook his hand with both of his, “Hello, Namjoon. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard nothing but great things from this one.” He gestured to you. Namjoon accepted the greeting and nodded silently. He needed to be civil, at least for now.

“And this one is Dr. Park Jimin.” You presented. “Remember, he’s a doctor.”

“And don’t you forget about it,” Jimin added on. Jungkook shook his hand as well. “I heard of your corporation. I saw on the news that you opened two new shelters for mothers and children. You do great work.”

Jungkook blushed and smiled, “Oh, yes. Thank you. It was a hard process, but I hope to do more of them in the future.”

“Oh, these are for you.” You said, passing the bouquet to your best friend.

Namjoon inspected the flowers—daisies, his favorite flowers because they were your favorite.

“This is a celebratory gift for your first solo exhibit and an apology.” You continued gazing at your best friend, trying to communicate telepathically, which Namjoon was fully aware of.

Somehow that hinted Jungkook into saying, “Dr. Park, do you think you can accompany me to the hors d’oeuvres? Let’s leave these two to talk.”

Impressed at his request, Jimin nodded, enjoying the man so far. The shorter glanced at Namjoon to give him some good luck before joining Jungkook’s food adventure.

There, you both were alone but not really knowing how to start this. This was the longest you’ve been apart, let alone fight like that. In fact, you rarely fought. There was nothing that came in between you two until now.

“He seems nice,” Namjoon commented about your new…boyfriend. “His mannerisms are a bit mechanical, though.”

You let out a chuckle, “He’s nervous. He wants to impress you.”

“Big CEO wanting to impress a small-time art curator? That’s new.”

“Well, big CEO knows that the art curator means a lot to me.” You went along with his saying. “He wants you to like him.”

“Why would he care about what I think?” Namjoon muttered, feeling a bit jittery. He held the bouquet tightly to keep his movements in control.

“Because he knows that I care about what you think.” You replied. “He was sad when I told him how you reacted because he was afraid. He doesn’t want you to think badly of him.”

“Not wanting to compare, but it’s hard not to after how many before he treated you.” He frowned as he said his thought out loud. “I don’t want you to get hurt, flower.”

You smiled softly at his care towards you. That’s what you loved about him. “Joon, he’s not going to hurt me. I can tell you that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I made the first move.” You revealed. “And though he’s stern and serious about his work—bless his soul—he is so shy, Joon. He was a nervous wreck, confessing his crush on me. It felt like I was in high school.”

Namjoon couldn’t imagine it. At first, he didn’t think that shyness would be a characteristic of Jungkook. Then again, he doesn’t know anything about him. He didn’t accept him at all, probably not anytime soon for safety precautions.

“He’s the first man in a long time for me, and I’ve been careful. He’s been careful. I actually asked him to keep it between just us two because I didn’t want my coworkers knowing about our relationship.” You elaborated. “But he suggested to at least tell our loved ones if we wanted to be serious with each other.”

“You’re serious with him?” Namjoon spoke softly. A sharp, quick pain pushed through his stomach, leaving an unpleasant feeling. Yet he didn’t try showing it; he didn’t want you to worry about him.

You nodded at the thought of Jungkook being steady with you. “Yes, that’s why I was afraid of telling you about him. I wanted you to accept him too.”

He coughed again, shaking his head. “I’m accepting of him, yet if I’m being honest. But I’ll try to.”

“He knows about my past too, and he swore he’s not like that.” He coughed harshly this time. You handed him some water that he accepted. “Joon, are you okay?”

Namjoon chugged the cup down and exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I think I have an upset stomach. I got a bad cough from this morning.”

“Make sure you take care of yourself, okay? I don’t wanna beat you up if you’re not being healthy.” You scolded, and it only made him laugh.

“I’ll be fine, flower. It’s just been stressful, from the event and our time apart.”

Your mood died a little, being guilty about what you did. “I’m sorry again. I promise to never do that again.” You grabbed his hand to squeeze some comfort in him.

His body got hit with another blow, but he bit his lips to dull the pain. “You worry too much, flower. It wasn’t your fault. You were also worried about me, too, no?”

You nodded, “I was. I care for you too much not to.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He reassured. “Then we should just enjoy the night and days to come.”

You couldn’t help but hug him. You missed him so much, crying to Jungkook about him. He knew you cared for your best friend and hoped that you two would reconcile.

“I love you, Joon.”

“I love you too, flower.”

Again, a standard practice, but Namjoon didn’t realize his love changed from yours.

Namjoon couldn’t hate Jungkook.

The more he was around the guy, the more he realized how chaotically sweet Jungkook was. He was just like you, an odd presence but very lovable. The only thing he hated about him was that he kept winning at everything, yet he was still humble about it.

Jungkook made initiatives to hang out with you and your friends from time to time just so he could understand your life and engage with those you loved. He hung out with him and Jimin, too, without you, and it was a fun guy’s night. He put so much effort into what he wanted, and he did it with ease. It was easier to like him.

Your relationship was growing healthy, and Namjoon was happy for you. You needed something like this, and he could only hope that Jungkook would continue that with you.

On the other hand, Namjoon has been on a stump. First of all, his event was a huge success. His networking multiplied, getting busy with upcoming projects. He’s been traveling internationally, attending conferences and parties, meeting other curators like him, and even making new friends like Jung Hoseok, who was overseas as a curator in Madrid.

So what was his stump?

Well, for a few months now, Namjoon has had this stomach flu. He’s been getting random fevers, uncontrollable shaking, sharp pains in his chest or abdomen, and not eating regularly.

The worst part of it all was his cough. It didn’t improve since that night, it seemed to have gotten worse. He felt the need to scratch his throat, even having the urge put his fingers down his mouth and take care of the itch himself.

He went to the doctors, and they assumed the same. They provided him more potent medication every visit, but it didn’t feel like it was working. Was it because he was growing older? Did he need to start working out and caring for his body like that? It was bothering him, distracting him from his work, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

If only he knew, his condition worsened with time.

“And now for the bride and groom to say their vows.” The ordained minister proceeded.

Before you proclaimed your love, you held your hands with Jungkook’s, focusing on him. You took deep breaths, collecting your memorized speech that you suddenly forgot. Your eyes told that you were stuck, but Jungkook helped you.

“Anything you say, I will love for. Hell, you can call me irritating and I’d say thank you.” Little giggles responded to the groom’s joke. You rolled your eyes, then remembered why you loved him in the first place.

“When I first met you, I was afraid of loving again. I was hurt and disappointed so many times. I don’t even know how many tears I shed throughout that journey. I felt like giving up and never loving again.” You started your vows. “But then you changed that for me. Though I was scared, you helped me back up and had so much patience with me. I don’t know how you do it. Jimin even questioned it.”

Namjoon looked back and saw his shorter friend nod to your speech before putting his eyes back on you.

“You brought nothing but joy in my life. Yes, we went through difficult times, but we made it out, and I know we’ll do that again in our marriage. You’ve accepted not only me into your life but also my family and friends you’ve grown to love.” You sniffled, not wanting to cry, but you just had to. “Thank you for loving me at my best and even my worst. Thank you for not giving up on us. You are the love of my life, and you make me happier than I could ever imagine and more loved than I ever thought was possible.”

Namjoon heard sniffing from Jungkook, who let out tears faster than you. Upholding the role as best man, he kept tissues in his back pocket just in case. He pulled them out and tapped on Jungkook’s shoulder. The groom accepted the gesture and handed one to you and then to him.

“I vow to honor you, listen, laugh with you, and cry with you. I just hope you do the same back. You make me so proud, proud to be called your wife. I love you, Jeon Jungkook. I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

Namjoon didn’t know when it started in terms of the other symptoms, but he remembered the first time he specifically saw it.

Jimin threw a Christmas party at his house and invited people you didn’t really know besides him, Jungkook, and Namjoon. Everyone else was people from the hospital he trained at, his party friends, the list went on. Nevertheless, it was a casual party with cute little games he had prepared.

You, Jungkook, and Namjoon talked amongst yourself in the corner. You and Jungkook had matching grinch Christmas sweaters. After a year of being together, you and Jungkook were more comfortable in front of people with your relationship. A few kisses and hugs here and there, but you liked to keep your relationship with him private.

Still, the public display of affection was prominent, and it disgusted Namjoon. It may seem like a joke to others, but it really did gross him out. Whenever you cuddled up onto one another or just plain out kissed, Namjoon’s upset stomach or chest murmurs intensified.

Like now, he kissed your cheek, and Namjoon felt a dig in his torso. His face turned sour, exhaled slowly as he palmed the ache.

“Namjoon, are you okay?” Jungkook looked at him with concern. “Are you having chest pains again?”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna go away again.” Namjoon brushed it off. “It comes and goes from time to time.”

“Did you go to the doctor again?” You asked.

“Yes, flower. I went the other day. Since I told him about my chest, they had me do an x-ray. They said they’ll call me, but I don’t think it’ll be any time soon ‘cause of the holidays.”

“The holidays shouldn’t be an excuse to keep my best friend from being healthy.” You pouted, earning laughs from your boyfriend and best friend.

“Honey, don’t worry too much.” Jungkook patted your head. “Namjoon is grown to make his own decisions and choose what to worry about.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with, JK, flower.” Namjoon agreed. “Plus, we’re still young. I’m sure whatever they find, it’ll be easy to fix. There are also not many health issues on both sides of my family, so I’m chilling.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Your ease is so annoying sometimes.”

After that conversation, Jimin chimed in and pulled all three of you to a game of “Nogpong.” The four were split into pairs: You and Namjoon and Jimin and Jungkook. Losers had to do what the winners said.

Jungkook and Jimin had experience playing these games, but you and Namjoon’s teamwork was unmatched. The teams went back and forth, missing cups, shooting them while making the opposing chug the eggnog down.

Your team had two cups left while they had five. It was your turn to throw a ball. Jimin threw insults at you to distract your concentration, but you tried to ignore that little man. You threw the ball, earning another point.

“You suck.” Jimin spat back before downing the drink.

It was now Namjoon’s turn. He focused on the final cup, being so close to winning. But his coughing grew harshly at that moment, sounding like it hurt. There was so much phlegm that he grabbed a napkin from a tissue box to cough up. He expectorated all he could into the tissue, ultimately feeling better. But when he saw the content in the cloth, his pupils dilated in shock.

What he thought was mucus was actually blood. He noticed that he could taste the unpleasant taste of iron in his mouth. He gulped down the remnants and stuffed the trash in his pocket without thinking.

“Some cough, Joon. Are you sure you’re okay?” You furrowed your brows at him.

“Flower, I’m okay.” He said again. “Let’s just finish the game.”

You weren’t as convinced, but you had to let it slide for his sake.

Namjoon nodded towards the guys about how he felt before going back to the game. He shot it into the cup with ease, cheering at the close win. All you had to do was score in the same cup.

It was all on you now. If you make this, victory was yours and Namjoon's. Sure, there was nothing to lose, but bragging rights were substantial to you. You held your breath and threw the ball.

You won!

You and Namjoon yelled like deranged individuals, celebrating your alcoholic game victory. Jungkook and Jimin took their loss like champs as they shook hands.

Namjoon held you by the waist and jumped in joy as you threw meaningless insults at your boyfriend and friend. In this position, something in Namjoon sparked. He watched you bad-mouthed them, but you looked so elegant, so beautiful doing it. He saw the fluttering of your lashes, the curve of your nose, and the soft plush that was your lips.

You being in his arms was so soothing. The warmth you produced heated his larger frame. It felt so right. He wished to stay like this forever with you.

But those thoughts caused a downward spiral in his stomach. His head was light. He immediately turned green, his chest feeling like it had been shot multiple times. His throat was open as everything he consumed started moving up. He pushed away aggressively as he covered his mouth, running to the nearest bathroom.

He disregarded the calls at him as he slammed the door open. He rushed to the toilet and pulled up the lid before vomiting everything in him. He purged so explosively that he thought his eyeballs would pop out of his head, and snot ran down from his nose and onto the top of his lip. He felt the sweat dripping down his face. Damn, this was the worst complication yet.

The three of you followed behind him while you took the lead. You bent towards your friend and rubbed his back as he threw up. You both stayed like that for a few minutes. Jimin had to go back to calm his guests down while Jungkook went to get water for Namjoon.

“Namjoon, do you want us to take you home?” Jungkook asked. “We can bring your car back too?”

Namjoon couldn’t say no. He knew he didn’t feel good, so he nodded.

“Let me grab your things, Joon.” You stood up and lightly patted his back. “I’ll come back quick.” You said before leaving with Jungkook.

He retched up once more, releasing all he had left closed eyes. When he opened the inside, his heart dropped. He thought his vision deceived him. No way could this happen. It was impossible. There was no reason to have it.

What he assumed he puked was the pasta and wine from the party was actually more blood. But that wasn’t the most alarming.

He always thought of them as simple and beautiful to look at, appealing to the eye, but it was hard to think of daisies in that way when his blood coated the fresh petals, and they came out of his body.

Namjoon was now lying in bed, wide awake and petrified. He was dubious, couldn’t find common ground in what he experienced. Maybe he was hallucinating; the very reason was that he wasn’t feeling so well. Maybe the blood-covered daisies were seen to cover up the horrible sight of regurgitated Alfredo pasta. But the sickly fragrant scent of the flowers begged to differ.

Okay, if he were to have it, how did he get it? He needed answers. He wasn’t in love with anyone, right? He never loved anyone like that. The only people he loved were his family. Sure, Jimin was fucking annoying, and he loved the dude, but he was in love with him.

The only person left was you and…no. He didn’t, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t. He can’t . There was no damn way.

He refused to believe.

Yet Namjoon remembered it clear as day.

An urgent early call from his doctor’s office sent him waiting in the examination room. He was restless, with dark bags under his worn-out eyes. He didn’t even bother to change. He was in his Ryan bear pajamas.

He scrolled through his phone, seeing the multiple texts from you and Jimin. You both were worried and wished him to get better while greeting him a wonderful Christmas. You sent a bomb of pictures of you and Jungkook with hearts to cheer him on, and it was enough for his heart to throb. He locked his phone and threw it in his pajama pocket.

His doctor, Dr. Min, came back into the room with a stoic expression as he read Namjoon’s file. “Good morning, Mr. Kim. I apologize for the short notice, especially on Christmas. But I just had to meet with you.”

“No need to apologize, Dr. Min.” The man said. “I was kinda glad you called. I—” He paused, trying to regulate his breathing. “I wanted to confirm.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, “Did something happen recently?”

Namjoon bit his lips and nodded, getting antsy at the anticipation he caused. “I vomited, and I-I saw…blood and…,” He couldn’t say it. If he said it, he feared that it would come true.

Dr. Min didn’t let him finish his sentence as he nodded. Pulled out of his file was his recent x-ray. He brought it to the mounted screen and turned the lights on, displaying the condition of Namjoon’s body.

Roots grew through his lungs and around his heart. The silhouette of stems flourished all over his respiratory while the flowers weren’t as developed but expected to bloom soon. Bits of petals scattered around rested on his sternum with the most on his heart.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. You’ve been diagnosed with stage three of Hanahaki Disease.” Dr. Min declared. “I know this is hard for you to take in, but I would like to tell you that my staff and I will do our best to help you in your next steps. But first, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you?”

Namjoon stayed silent, viewing his x-ray. He could only nod as the pain consumed his form. This was the truth, the reality he was living in.

“Do you know how long you’ve experienced symptoms?”

He shook his head.

“You did say you’ve been coughing for a while. Is that still happening?”

He nodded.

“When you coughed, was there blood?”

He nodded.

“Did you find petals?”

He shook his head.

“But when you threw up, there were petals?”

He nodded.

“When you vomited, was that the first time?”

He nodded.

“Do you love them?”

That very question snapped him out of his trance. He scowled at his doctor, wondering why he asked a personal question.

“Excuse me, Dr. Min. But isn’t that personal?” Namjoon couldn’t help but spit venom. He just found out he has a severe illness, and now his doctor wanted to know about his love life?

“It may seem personal, but this disease connects to love.” Dr. Min explained. “Namjoon, it’ll only worsen if you don’t admit it. That’s why the flowers are developing rapidly.”

He looked at his doctor, holding his stare. His eyebrows scrunched on his forehead with a large frown upon his mouth. Dr. Min waited patiently for his response, knowing what was gradually happening to him.

Thinking deeply about the question, his consciousness popped with a vague image. The picture subtly grew vivid at each second. Colors were lively, edges were pronounced, and the shapes were visible. By the time it was clear and detailed, a memory flashed in his very mind.

He stood on top of a roof. Inspecting around him, he realized it was his old apartment building years back. He saw the crowded shining city spanning across his vision. Buildings stood high and lit, groups of people walking down the streets, but still, he could only hear the soft white noise of the night. Light instrumental music resonated through the rooftop. It was all nostalgic. He missed the view, but more importantly, he missed the memories made here.

“Joon, dance with me,” A gentle voice begged as a small hand tugged his relatively larger one.

His head turned, presenting him with the prettiest, perfect sight. The glow in your skin shined brighter than the moon and sun combined. Your large glittering irises electrified his entire being. Your laugh rippled goosebumps on him, filling his body with sensation. Your smile captivated his very mind and soul. You intertwined his fingers with yours, your warmth coursing through his veins.

Everything about this was perfect. He never wanted to leave. He wished to stay like this forever. He loved every feeling. He loved every minute. He loved the memory. He loved the vision. But essentially—

He loved you.

Namjoon was in love with you, has been this entire time.

But you didn’t love him back.

You were in love with someone else.

The confession only brought painful tears to him as he let his emotions run loose. He scrunched his nose, sniffing uncontrollably. His mouth quivered hopelessly as little whimpers escaped. His gaze went down to his lap, noticing his trembling hands.

He never thought of the day he finally understood what love was. He was too analytical with his beliefs in the past. But he also gave himself some credit. Love was still an essence that powered emotions. All these interpretations and meanings were interconnected. You couldn’t have this without the other. It was more than a concept, more than a feeling.

Love was larger than life itself. Love was greater than anything in the whole universe. It was impossible to put a limit to love.

Perhaps, Jimin was right.

Love can do a lot for someone.

Namjoon refused to tell anyone about his condition. Not only did he have to say to them that he was slowly dying from unrequited love, but he would have to reveal his true feelings for you.

He couldn’t deny them any longer, he loved you with all his heart, and it was killing him. But if it had to be anyone to do it, it had to be you.

He knew he couldn’t tell you. You would blame yourself, crying to him that you wished you would have loved him back. But you did love him.

Just not in the way he loved you. It wasn’t your fault at all. You were the type to make anyone fall in love with you. Namjoon had to just be part of that statistic.

He knew he couldn’t have you, you were with Jungkook, and you loved that man dearly. He was good to you, the best even, probably more than Namjoon would have done.

For the following months, he continued occupying his life with work. He had to focus on things other than you since you were on his mind every waking moment. He thought it was best to keep his distance. Maybe the flowers inside him wouldn’t flourish rapidly.

But you were adamant in keeping him close. You confronted him, going to his work. Your irritation dissolved once you saw his sunken face and the dark in his eyes. He convinced you that he wasn’t eating adequately since he was constantly working. Then you begged him to have lunch with you, and he couldn’t say no to you. He was too weak.

Too weak for you.

He gave in and, at the very least, texted and called you, but less than before. Sure, he hung out with you and Jungkook but was less engaged. Lately, when you asked to hang out, he told you he was busy or needed to fly out last minute.

When in reality, he went to the hospital for his condition.

“You’ve been taking the prescription, correct? Three times daily?” Dr. Min inquired. And Namjoon nodded. The doctor examined the man, he looked weaker, but somehow his body was stronger in motor and movement than the regular people who had this illness.

Hanahaki Disease cases were rare and the first for Dr. Min’s long-time patient to be diagnosed. It wasn’t as successful, but when it did, there were still some downfalls, but the individual would be okay in the end. The doctor felt the need to provide the best for him, not fathoming what he was going through.

“Good, it helps the flower wilt. It doesn’t stop the process completely, but it gives more time.” Dr. Min clarified. “Your bodily functions are still running normally, so that’s good. But I can’t say you’re getting any better….”

His health was deteriorating, the symptoms increased, and not a day went by without him coughing or throwing up petals.

“I know, doc.” Namjoon sighed. A nurse came in to check his blood pressure.

“Since you’re at a high stage in this, it’s hard for a cure unless….”

“No.” The man interrupted, knowing what he was going to say. “She’s been dating a friend for a while now. Great guy and loves her dearly..”

Dr. Min noted and nodded carefully at his response. “There’s also surgery. Many people who were diagnosed refuse to take it; that’s also why the fatality of Hanahaki is high. However, a small percentage who do, don’t feel love for the other person. But there are consequences.”

“Like what?”

“It is likely you will never feel love again. The memories of your love for that person won’t exist anymore.”

“Isn’t that worse?” Namjoon knitted his brows. He feared a life without loving, without loving you. He’d probably feel empty inside, lingering around like a ghost. “How can someone live on without love?”

“I…I don’t know.” And for once, Dr. Min didn’t have the right answer. Namjoon accepted what he said; it wasn’t his doctor’s fault. He was only suggesting possibilities. “It’s just another option because, at this rate, the illness is going into the four-stage.”

“And what happens at that stage?”

“If something were to happen that speeds it up, the flowers would bloom all over your lungs, and you will die before the end of the year.”

To live without love or to die with love.

A question that has been running through the mind of Kim Namjoon. He didn’t have much time left, but he couldn’t get himself to make a decision.

Obviously, he didn’t want to die. There was still much more for him to do. He wouldn’t be able to do what he wanted. But…a life without love? How would that be plausible? No human would walk on Earth with no love in their body because everyone has to love something or someone deep down.

But the thing that heated his mind was never loving you. He has fallen in love with you since you both were 11. Every drop of love in his body was for you. You were the one who would give meaning to his memories. How would he survive moving on after you?

Namjoon was deep in thought when fingers snapped in front of his face. He blinked back into his surroundings. He was in his office, trying to email Hoseok about some future collaborations.

The culprit, Jimin, rested on one side of his body with his hands on his hips. He had a concerned yet annoyed face on him as he inspected Namjoon. “You’re wasting our precious lunchtime together zoning out.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, quickly finishing up the email and sending it to his fellow art curator. As they walked up the street to the cafe, Jimin couldn’t help but take multiple takes at his friend.

“Stop staring. I’m not a fucking picture.” Namjoon caught his friend’s gaze.

“Dude, you don’t look so good.”

“Wow, thanks. That definitely helps with my self-esteem.”

“Stop joking. I’m serious.” Jimin refuted. “You look sicker. You barely eat, and you keep having colds.”

“I told you, Jimin. I’ve been going to the doctor, and it’s just stress—”

“ I’m literally a doctor. I can tell that this is more than stress. If you have something and you’re not tell—” An incoming call from Namjoon stopped Jimin’s rant. The shorter’s mouth thinned as he faced forward, waiting for the crosswalk to turn green.

Namjoon pulled his phone out, assuming it was Hoseok. But it was actually Jungkook. He rarely called and usually preferred texting to his introverted self. Nevertheless, he answered and greeted the man.

“Hey, thanks for answering. I really needed your opinion or like help with something.” Jungkook spoke out.

“No problem, man.” Namjoon grinned. “You know I’m always here to help. What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to say this….”

“You literally sound like ___ right now. It’s baffling.”

“Ugh, I—okay, fine. Obviously, you know ___ and I are together and in love, right?” A pain in his chest hit hard as Namjoon cleared his itchy throat. The crosswalk turned green, and the two began walking across. He hummed in response for Jungkook to continue. “Well, I’m gonna propose to her, and I want you to help me with her ring. You know her taste better than I do and—”

Namjoon stopped. He couldn’t hear anything after that. Jungkook started to sound like the adults from the Peanuts series. The words “I’m going to propose to her” echoed in his brain, repeated like a broken record. Was he hearing it correctly?

“I’m sorry, what? You’re what?” Namjoon forced himself to ask, praying that what he said wasn’t true.

“I’m proposing to ____? I want you to help me with t—”

His vision went fuzzy, his head feeling heavier than normal. His mouth became dehydrated while breathing went rapid. Namjoon couldn’t control his body shaking; everything went numb. His eardrums inflated, unable to hear the horns honking but only a long ringing sound amplified within seconds.

Jimin reached the end of the crosswalk but looked back to see why wasn’t his large friend was by his side. Jimin let out a sob. He saw his friend fall forward, dropping his phone. He ran up as he watched Namjoon vomit blood in the middle of the street.

He got down on his knees in distress, rubbing his friend’s back as he pulled out his phone to call an ambulance. Some people crowded the scene, even going as far as getting out of their cars to help them.

While Jimin instructed the hospital on their location, Namjoon gagged harshly, feeling stuck with something burning through his throat, almost like it was too large to even consume, let alone retched up.

“Yes, please. We’re here at W 6th and Namu Avenue.” Namjoon pushed as hard as possible, and the content finally came out. “Perfect, thank you,” Jimin said before ending the call. “They’ll come in five mi—Joon.…”

With barely enough strength, Namjoon open eyes and turned to see his friend’s aghast expression. Jimin felt himself grieving over him, the tears burst out of control and ran down his reddened cheeks. So Namjoon looked away, unable to see his friend’s crying. Then he suddenly realized why—

There lay blood-stained daisies in the pool of crimson, enough to make a bouquet. Loose petals plastered around, mocking creating a large heart surrounding the arrangement.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin whimpered, resting his forehead on the taller’s back. He felt the tears staining his shirt, but that was the least of his problems.

“I’ll give you two some time alone,” Dr. Min told them. He looked at his sickly patient, then towards Jimin. “Maybe talk him into it.”

“Thanks, Hyung.” Jimin nodded. Dr. Min excused himself and closed the door while Jimin kept his eyes on his friend.

After the incident, Namjoon lost consciousness. Jimin was there every step of the way and almost recklessly used his authority to get his friend help. Fortunately, Dr. Min was his supervisor and a good friend that came quickly when he found out what happened to his patient.

Namjoon woke up to them discussing his choices regarding this illness, but he stayed quiet and drank water. He knew Jimin was upset at him for not telling about his condition but was more afraid of him telling you , someone innocent in all of this.

“I know you’re still not feeling well, but I need to know, as your colleague, your friend, your brother, fuck as me! Someone who cares so much about you!” Jimin huffed, feeling frustrated at the situation. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Namjoon chuckled, but nothing was light about it. “You really think I’d tell her? She’d blame herself, and it’s not her fault.”

“At least, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sure you’d say the same thing as Dr. Min….” Namjoon glowered, inspecting the needles and tubes attached to his wrist. “This is something that’s my problem. Because in all honesty, Jimin, what would you have done? You can’t tell me I shouldn’t love her. You can’t tell her to love me. There really wasn’t anything you could do.”

“But…but…I would have been there for you.” Jimin sniffed, his eyes glistening at the sight of his friend. “I would stay by your side even if you were getting worse. No one should go through this alone.” He walked up and gently clasped his hand, noticing how weak he’s gotten.

“How long since you’ve known?” Jimin licked his lips, trying to see any more pain in him.

“I don’t know, but the first time I saw flowers was during your Christmas party.”

“So you’ve been keeping this a secret for almost a whole year?” The shorter released his hold to pace around the room, having many emotions riling his body. “Joon, you’re dying, you know that? There’s no cure unless you do the surgery? Why haven’t you said yes?”

“Because there are consequences to it that I don’t know if I’d accept.” Namjoon had to stay calm. It was better this way, thinking it’d make his friends hurt a little less. “Why live a life without love?” Jimin kept silent, gathering his reasons for the hypothetical question. “The doctor said if I do the surgery, I can’t love again. Go on my life not loving? I’d live an empty life. I wouldn’t get married, have children, see them grow….”

“Technically, you still can.”

“Jimin, life would still be empty, and it would hurt everyone around me, including my parents, you, Jungkook, ___.” He cried at your name. “I can’t live without loving her. It’s hard. I loved her since I was 11, Jimin, and as it pains me to see her with someone else, I have to let her go.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you’re dying!”

“And if I don’t love, I would be dead inside.” Namjoon smiled bitterly. “I lose either way.”

Jimin sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his best to talk to him. “While you were unconscious, I talked with Dr. Min. He explained to me how there was a recent study on post-surgery for Hanahaki. There were about ten subjects. The researcher found that despite the common knowledge of not loving, there’s a 50% chance that you may feel it again.”

Namjoon’s eyes glimmered towards his friend, “What? How’d you get this?”

“Yoongi Hyung didn’t know much about the illness, so he had to go through studies and experiments to learn more about it. He stumbled upon this one issued almost two years ago by one of the nation’s prestigious schools.” Jimin articulated what he absorbed from his superior. “There’s still hope for you.”

“Jimin, I don’t know…I don’t feel like gambling my life like that.” Namjoon was uncertain. He was stuck in the middle because either he loved again or didn’t. With the adversity he has been under, the universe wasn’t on his side on this.

“You’re not gambling your life; you’re finding reasons to live, to love.” Jimin reasoned. “You can do all the things you wish to do. You shouldn’t give up, Joon.”

“I-I need time to think this through….” He concluded. There was the temptation to all of it, but he needed to think carefully about his decision. Right now, he’s emotional, Jimin’s emotional; this whole thing is an emotional mess.

“Though Dr. Min can’t say this, I can. You don’t have much time left. That scene triggered you going into the final stage. I don’t want you to die.” Jimin spoke his thoughts. “But whatever decision you make, I’ll be right by your side.”

“Thank you, Chim.” Namjoon nodded. “D-did you tell her? About my condition?”

The shorter breathed out before shaking his head, “No, I thought you would be the one to tell her. But she does know you’re in the hospital. She and Jungkook are in the waiting room. I said you fainted and threw up on the street.”

“You can’t tell her about it, please.” Namjoon pleaded. “I don’t want her to take the blame. None of this is her fault.”

Not arguing with him, Jimin questioned, “So what do we say? You’re dying, and you can’t say you have a fever.”

“Just say I have a tumor.”

“I don’t know if that’s worse or not….”

“I technically do, except instead of a tumor, it’s fucking daisies growing in my lungs!” Namjoon retorted. “Look, whatever it is, she can’t know that I have Hanahaki because she’ll find out I’m in love. She can’t know this, please.”

Jimin bit inside his mouth, “Fine, I won’t tell her, but make your decisions on the surgery soon.”

“Oh, Joon!” You cried, rushing towards him. You threw your hands over his body and sobbed. Jungkook trailed behind with a stuffed koala with a ‘Get Well’ balloon, then Jimin was the last to come back in before closing the door.

Namjoon didn’t like how sad you looked as he hugged you back. He caressed your hair before parting away to get a glimpse of you. You were whimpering, snot running down your nose, crocodile tears shedding, and the spark of pain yet relief in your eyes.

“Jimin told us what happened. We left work and sped here, we waited for hours, and… why didn’t you tell me you had a tumor?” You had so many questions, but this was taking priority.

Namjoon glanced at Jimin, who had his arms crossed over his chest. He nodded slightly, keeping the promise.

“Uhh, I didn’t want you to worry.” He answered softly.

“Now you’re in the hospital, on the brink of death!” You were hurt; he kept it from you, but more so, scared for his life. You didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“I’m sorry, it’s complicated…Doctor said I could go through surgery, but….”

“But? But what? Why don’t you?” You reached for his hands. It was a thing you used to do as children, and you did find a way to comfort each other.

But though it was comforting, it was also intensely painful for Namjoon.

His heart throbbed, but he contained the ache. He pushed your hands off of him and rested them on his lap.

“It’s just…it’s complicated.” He responded the best that he could without lying. He’s already lying so much more than he did in your entire friendship.

You stared at him, trying to comprehend what he said. You needed to understand, and you had a hunch that he wasn’t adequately telling you.

“Do you think you two can leave, so we can talk privately?” You rotated back at Jimin and Jungkook. The sense of desperation was oozing through your contact.

Jungkook nodded without missing a beat, understanding the privacy needed. He placed the koala on the table and mumbled reassurances to the taller. Jimin said nothing but followed your boyfriend out and closed the door behind him.

Now you two were alone.

It’s been a while since it was just you and him. You missed it. Though you tried your best, your days grew hectic, and schedules were tight, being unable to hang out with your best friend.

You observed his state, he lost the honey color in his skin, and the darkened puffs around his eyes were accentuated by his bloodshot eyes. His hair was matted and greased, not having its usual volume. His body looked thinner, seeing his bones popping out every now and then.

“I never would have thought you’d end up like this.” You spoke truthfully. “It pains me to see you like this, Joon.”

“I know, flower.” He agreed, not wanting to look you in the eye. It really could be damaging to him.

“Are you doubting the surgery? Is it the cost? The quality, because I can help you—”

“No, it’s not like that, flower. I promise.” Even at his weakest point, he strived to make you not worried for him. “It’s…there are consequences to the surgery that I don’t know if I could live with.”

“What do you mean?”

He tried getting himself together to come up with a reasonable explanation without saying too much, “The doctor said I’d lose feeling to some parts of my body.”

“And so…”

“So, I wouldn’t live my life the way I want to.” He sighed, thinking about his tender memories with you. His eyes started to swell at the possibility of it disappearing. “I would feel dead inside. I don’t know if I can survive like that.”

“Did he say anything else? Is there something that can counter that? I—was this only option?”

“He talked about some study on it and said there’s a 50% chance I could feel again. It’s just risky, you know? I’m shooting through hoops for it, and I’m….” His voice trembled in tone. “I’m tired. I’m tired of all of it. I wanna give up.”

“No, I refuse for you to give up.” You disapproved.

“No, it’s okay—”

“It’s not okay, Namjoon.” You seethed with rage, standing up from the bed.

“Look, flow—”

“No, I won’t let you. You used to tell me to never give up, stay hopeful, and that I’ll get better with time.” Your eyes welled with tears at the very thought of Namjoon giving up on himself. “Now that you’re giving up, you’re telling me to be okay with that?”

“Why not?” He bawled back.

There it was, what he’s been hiding from you—the loose, broken pieces shattered instead of being taped together like everything was fine.

When he first found out, he lost all hope in what he had to offer the world. He didn’t want to act upon being a human and grieve on his experience. It wasn’t like him. He wanted you to see him be okay and happy and work his way through life and obstacles with ease like he always wanted for you.

This was the first time you saw lost.

“I’m already dying. What’s the point, ___?” He broke down. “I can’t be strong anymore. It made matters worse. Look, I failed myself. I failed you as your best friend. I’m really a failure. I’ve been blinded by hope and being content, not noticing that I’m getting worse.”

You took in his words, trying to understand him. You saw him fall into a pit of insecurity and despair. It was scary for you, this being one of the few times you saw him like this. It was usually the other way around, and for that, you needed to be there for him. Comfort him like he did with you, care for him like he did with you, continuing on his side with love and support.

“Remember when Seokjin cheated on me, I asked you why things like that happened?” You pointed out, taking a step to sit back down.

“Yeah, you were a mess. You couldn’t stop crying.”

“Yeah, but I slept good that night.” You chuckled, earning a slight smile from him. “You said hurt is temporary, and you’ll heal from it.”

“Wow, I said that. I must have been a liar.” He joked, causing you to snort at his self-deprecation. He shifted his head out to the window, the sun setting for the day, bringing a soft, warm hue into his bleak room.

“No, you were telling the truth, and things got better.” You said. “But then I asked you if something was wrong with me because bad things kept happening.”

“What about it? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“You called me one of the most special people out there.” You grinned, reaching over to his hands and intertwining them into yours. “If I’m one of the most special, Namjoon, you’re irreplaceable.”

He finally faced you. Your face was touched by the golden hour, the dried tears reflected. All the hope he once had was migrated onto you. The building of hope he helped you through the years was finally reflected. It was your turn to give back.

You sniff-kissed his palms, and it didn’t hurt him for once. It melted his troubles away for a split second and made his heart skip a beat in the way it was supposed to be.

“No one in this world can match you. You are like no other. You brought better days than I could never imagine, always thinking of others before yourself.” Your promising irises said it all, the truth of himself within. “The universe gives the hardest challenges to the most powerful, resilient ones because it knows how much you can endure. It’s testing you.”

Your grip was firm, more robust than his, as he applied pressure to your hands. “Once it’s over, you will be rewarded vastly. It’ll give you the best things, you name it. You won’t regret anything your heart faces and desires. Good will happen to someone like you. Please don’t give up.” You wheezed out, sobbing into your linked hands. “You’ll be alright, I promise. We’ll be here for you. I’ll be here for you.”

Namjoon joined closer to you, his forehead resting on the top of your head. You felt his tears dripping on your scalp, but that didn’t matter. You then embraced one another, refusing to let go. The dimming sun cascaded your shadows onto the white walls of the hospital room.

Serene was anything but you two. Instead, a fire ignited within, blazing a rush, lighting up the untapped potential inside both of you. The flames grew when together, too powerful for the world to see. So it was decided they had to stay apart, as they’re not always meant to last. Still, without their mirrored flame, if one died, so did the other.

Separation should never be permanent with you and Namjoon.

The day was young. The window was opened to lure fresh wind into his nostrils. He’s been in this room for days, but he won’t be in here any longer. He eyed the skinny cylindrical vase, and a single daisy emerged into the half-filled water. The decor was a small gesture from Jungkook, who got the idea from Jimin.

Though alone, that one daisy carried purpose to its life, creating beauty and awing anyone that surrounded it. It was the last one he probably would see for a while.

A knock interrupted his gaze from the vase. Following the sound, he found his doctor in the doorway with a bright smile.

“Ready?” Dr. Min asked.

Namjoon closed his eyes and breathed a final deep, flower-filled breath.

“Ready.”

The ceremony was absolutely breathtaking, with nothing but large smiles on everyone. Laughter filled the air, food filled their stomachs, and you and Jungkook’s love filled the entire reception. Everyone felt your eternal love, resonating with that very feeling in their own lives.

All but Namjoon.

After the successful surgery, he recovered quickly, bringing joy to your lives. But he lost his loving memories with you. He still remembered who you were, how you grew up, and the memories you made with him. He even knew why he had the surgery in the first place. But he doesn’t remember or feel ever being in love with you.

He was your best friend who you platonically loved.

Namjoon didn’t know what love was all together. It was something he couldn’t fully grasp. If someone were to ask, he gave an indefinite answer or a simple ‘I don’t know.’

He did feel like a big hole was in his chest, finding it difficult to get anything to fill it up. Days were long and tiresome. Things happen, things don’t. It was all mundane for him. He felt numb to the world at times. He doesn’t know if he regretted his decision.

But if there’s one thing he knew was that he cared. He cared a lot about his friends, work, and family, never wanting them to feel down or hurt. If they needed him, he’ll come in faster than you could say his name. He enjoyed being there for them. It made him happy.

But not enough to love, whatever that was.

You were his best friend he cared for.

He cared so much that he helped Jungkook plan his proposal with you and the wedding. Jungkook even begged him to be his best man, to which the taller agreed with flying colors.

In your opinion, the ask to be his best man was unexpectedly more notable than your own proposal.

Namjoon watched you and Jungkook dancing on the floor, nothing but smiles and stolen touches between the two. Even when crying, you were still happy with your husband. He was glad you finally found someone worthy enough for you, also glad you weren’t wasting your time with stupid boys who only cared about their dicks in something.

He wondered what it was having that, but he felt nothing. The crater in him only expanded. Was it even possible for him? It didn’t seem as interesting, so he pushed it aside.

“Hey, you okay?”

His head turned to see Jimin sitting beside him at their designated table. The doctor offered him a glass of wine, which he gladly accepted.

“Yeah, just watching.” He shrugged.

“You holding up alright?”

Namjoon’s lips twitched in dissatisfaction, “I think I’ve been before. I don’t know.”

Jimin peeked at the newlyweds and asked, “Do you’d ever tell her?”

“It happened; it’s already in the past. Just gotta move on.” He sighed. “Again, I know she wouldn’t forgive herself if I told her all about it.”

“I understand.” The shorter nodded, swirling his glass in his hand.

“But I will tell her what’s happening now. I think she needs to know that at least.” He took one more sip before putting it down on the table. He got up and headed in your direction.

Jimin smiled, seeing the last moments of you and your best friend together.

Namjoon tapped on your husband’s shoulder, catching their attention. He cleared his throat and pushed forth his hand in front of you. “May I have a dance with my best friend?”

Jungkook beamed at him and nodded willingly. He palmed the small of your back and assisted you to your friend. “Just don’t fall in love with you.”

You all laughed as Namjoon snorted, “Gross, never.”

Jungkook walked away, leaving you to sway to the soft beats of the music. You wrapped your arms around his nape while he palmed your sides firmly. He wasn’t the best dancer, but this was manageable. You both swayed seamlessly together, almost like your bodies were conditioned to.

You looked up at him. He was much healthier, cheeks protruded like when you were children, and his body grew thicker as he ate well and exercised more. But what pressed you was his eyes. Though being better, they struggled to keep luminosity. Some days were high; others were low. You assumed he had gotten moodier after the surgery, but still the authentic Kim Namjoon.

“Ummm, though I want you to enjoy your wedding, there’s something I needed to tell you. It’s important.” He announced as he took the lead in the dance. He unexpectedly twirled you around, making you squeal and grab the collar of his suit.

“You’re not dying again, right?” Though the tone seemed sarcastic, you hardened your face.

“No, I’m not.” He scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Good, you’re not allowed to leave me.” You pouted cutely.

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not gonna leave.”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“I got a job offer to work in Madrid. Remember Hoseok? He referenced me to one of their museums, and they liked my work.”

“Oh, Joon! I’m so happy for you.” You congratulated him, then squeezed him tightly in your hug. “You’ll do great. When do you leave?”

“In a few months, I told Hoseok I needed some time to transition and finish up some work. I think it’ll be good, you know? A new change after my…tumor. Maybe I’ll feel better…I’ve been feeling stuck. I know I didn’t tell you right away, but you had the wedding and planning….”

“I don’t care. It’s fine. It’s understandable.” You smiled endearingly at your friend. “You know I’ll always love you, right?”

Namjoon crooned, “I love you too.”

Of course, he didn’t think he meant it, not grasping the words. It held no effect on him. But he knew that you enjoyed saying it to him, so to avoid any suspicions, he says it.

“You’re gonna be so far.” You frowned.

“Hey, I’m gonna call. We’ll do video calls now, and you’ll be able to explore Madrid vicariously towards me.” He promised, holding your form.

“You better…”

“Okay, enough about me. How do you feel?” He changed the subject to the meaning of tonight. “You’re a married woman.”

“It’s weird. My last name is now Jeon.” You stated. “I’m not used to it.”

“Could have been worse. Could have been Kim.” He quipped, making you throw your head back.

You scrunched your nose. Your grin morphed lower as a thought came up. “You remember Seokjin, right?”

“My God, why are you bringing up your ex on your wedding day?” He retorted. You gave a stern look, but it didn’t cause him fear. “But yes, what about him?”

“It wasn’t much about him. It was something he said after we broke up.” You squinted up as if it helped you remember.

“And?”

“Well, I ran into him in the cafeteria. It was like during finals. You weren’t there. You had your art analysis exam.” You recollected from the back of your mind. “He apologized, but it didn’t matter. But he told me he cheated because he knew he couldn’t win.”

“I know I’m not that experienced, but I don’t think a relationship is about winning,” Namjoon commented, still having the urge to punch that guy.

“No, no. He wasn’t like that. But I didn’t know what he was talking about at that time.” You breathed deeply and sighed. “He told me it was because of you.”

“Me? What about me?”

“He saw our friendship and deemed it as a threat.” You uncovered. “You and I were so closer, he felt like he was in the way and that he lost before it even started. ”

“But it wasn’t like that, right?” He probed, not thinking anything more. However, with your long pause and the discomfort on your face, it made him raise a brow at you. “___, speak please.”

“He got me thinking—what if it was you?” You shared. “That the love was much more than what we showed.”

The hypothetical question consumed his mind. It’s been a while since he was deep in thoughts like this. They were always meaningless and showed no impact. Similar to this one, inside him went blank.

“Can’t fathom it….” He could only say.

“I thought he was nuts, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought about wanting it to happen.”

That’s when Namjoon blinked dumbfounded at you. What did you mean by that?

“What did you say? W-why say it now?”

“Because it was in the past, and it stopped after meeting Jungkook.” You answered, reminiscing about those thoughts and feelings. “Now we’re good, happier now, and just look back at it and laugh.”

“You said it was in the past now. What did you think?” Namjoon wanted to understand, curious about what you were hiding from him.

“That…that I liked you. Maybe even falling in love with you??”

Namjoon only wished to have felt what you said, but it was all numb. “O-oh.”

“I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no. You’re not, flower. I’m…I’m just a bit surprised.” He denied it, inhaling slowly and releasing his breath.

“I was too. Now thinking back, it would have been very cliche.” You giggled. “We’re breaking stereotypes.”

“We’re unmatched.” He smiled, his dimples being emphasized. “What made you stop having those thoughts?”

You tilted your head and gazed to the side of you to find your reflections. “Mmm, I think our souls were destined to meet like we had a gravitational pull that couldn’t tear us apart. I thought about twin flames.”

“Interesting concept. Tell me more.”

“Kinda like two peas in a pod. We’re one soul split in between two bodies. We see things in us that others can’t.”

“Flower, you can’t say we’re twin flames when you just married your soulmate.”

“It’s different! Twin flames just understand each other to no avail, while soulmates are naturally compatible.”

“Then how did this make you stop? Because in my opinion, it only would lead to more.” He went being a devil’s advocate for no reason. Maybe a stab at you for his past self?

“Two fires together will only create a bigger fire.” You simply explained. “We were meant to be, but we aren’t meant to be.”

The two of you continued to dance, being the few left on the floor. Your loved ones looked at you, intrigued by the strength of your bond.

And it indeed was.

You were made to test and develop your very understanding of yourselves, energy, and one another. You provided active spiritual growth as each other’s catalysts, awakening your mirrored souls. You pushed each other to release your wounds, remove any blockage that came your way, and help to lead you to true love, whether it was self-love or finding the love of your life.

Right before his surgery, Namjoon wondered what would have happened if you had reciprocated his love for you. Would it have been a happily ever after? Or ruin your friendship through the combustion too much for you both to handle?

What if you saw in him what he saw in you? What if you spoke to him like he spoke to you? What if you thought of him like he thought of you? What if life hurt you like it did with him? Would you ever love him the way he loved you?

He will never know.

But above all, he was glad to be with you, even if it meant being only your best friend. You continued your life and yourself, attached to his existence.

And if he lived a hundred years, for a hundred years, he’ll think of you.

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #kim namjoon #bts x reader #bts fanfic #matcha masterlist

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onlyawakeatmidnight · 1 year

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yes i am a mean gills main but omg the flower husband angst in this session- i’m so so so there for it. i am already imagining how an hanahaki au would play out because like it just fits too well-

#limited life #flower husbands

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multi-fandom-simp · 1 year

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Forever and always... or maybe Never (Alternate Ending #1)

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Hanahaki disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you can not die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen, begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity. Will Aemond have enough time to save you, or do you have to save yourself?

TW: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints and mentions of infidelity, mild mature scene, angst, I think that's all of them??

(A/N: Hello, I meant to post this a while ago, but I was struggling to get it to turn out the way I wanted. Even now I'm not sure if I 100% love it. Nevertheless, I give you one out of two of the alternate endings. It may seem similar in the beginning, but small details have changed in the first half, and then the second half is completely new! I would like to state that in no way, shape, or form do I think forgetting things heals wounds. With saying that, the reader does forgo her love for Aemond in attempt to save herself, but in a different way. A way that still keeps Aemond in the loop but makes him suffer. I hope you all like this better than I do. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs, I truly love to see them! Anyways, enjoy!)

Word Count: 3,435

Taglist: @libdarkheart (It's been a hot minute so I wasn't sure who else wanted a tag for the alternate endings)

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.

“ You dar-”

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder. He set the lilacs he had brought with him beside you on the bench.

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.

" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually. Aemond had let you down so that you could turn to face him.

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you. Starting small with the way you love lilacs and stretching all the way to how you separate the food on your plate. I would never forget anything about you, my love” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”

Thankfully, the universe wouldn’t let you go that easily. Nor would it let Aemond leave your mind. You had tried it all, from no longer dining with him to pretending he no longer existed. However, it seemed that for every step you took away from him, he took one closer to you. Perhaps it was stupid to think that you could attempt to forgo your love for him in the first place.

“ ābrazȳrys. Ābra-” Aemond’s voice broke you from your thoughts. Bringing you back to chilled window of the library where you sat. Not that the chill affected your ailing body any.

“ How late has it gotten?” Bleariness dripped from your eyes and onto the pages of Aegon I’s story as you came to reality once more.

“ It’s nearly dusk” Aemond chuckled, “ How has the conquerors story gotten you so entranced when you’ve read it nearly a thousand times before?”

“ It’s practically a new story when you read it from a different perspective. I use to only ever understand it from Rhaenys’s point of view, but now-” You swallowed hard, not caring to finish your sentence.

“ ..but now? Whose eyes do you read through this time?” Aemond prompted, reaching to brush a stray hair from your forehead. You flinched away from the comfort, disgusted by the possibility of where those hands had been. If Aemond noticed the reaction then he did not comment on it. Perhaps out of fear that it would start an argument.

You looked back out the window, “ Visenya's. Though I suppose she didn't have as many qualms with her lifestyle as I do.”

Aemond stiffened, “ I don’t see how you would relate to Visenya. Perhaps your bravery is similar-”

“ Visenya was Aegon’s first wife. She bore him a son and then his attention was mainly focused on Rhaenys. For every night he spent with Visenya, he spent ten with Rhaenys” You turned to direct your eyes to his, “ I relate to Visenya in almost every aspect now.”

" I'm not sure I know what you're implying, dear wife" Aemond's eyes narrowed. You hummed in disbelief, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Perhaps you were tired of keeping quite about his affairs.

" You should know. After all you are the Aegon in my story and your dear Alys is Rhaenys" There was no venom in your voice, why would there be? You had long since come to terms with the fact that spite wouldn't cure you.

" That's what your upset over?"

"I am not upset, Aemond. I am in fact long past being upset." You shrugged, " Turbulent emotions will never heal the damage you caused, so why would I waste my time on them?"

" Damage? I have done nothing but love you?! Have you forgotten all of our escapades from the last two months? The library, the council room, the gard-" Aemond's words quickly died when he saw how you recoiled with each place. Realization crashed into his like an icy tidal wave. It was never you. This whole time, he had been making love to Alys and not you.

You had to fight to keep your steely composure and not wretch all over the library floor, " Do I mean so little to you, that you can not even tell whether or not I'm the one you're holding?"

Aemond paled, "Witchcraft. She had to of put a spell on me. I would never-"

Aemond caught your arm when you moved to walk around him, but you refused to hear his excuses," It no longer matters. Your realization has come too late."

" Too late? You talk as if you've asked the king for an annulment"

You let out a hearty laugh, one that might've made Aemond think you were crazy, "Annulment would've been merciful. Anything besides the path I've chosen would've been merciful."

" What are you talking about? What have you done?" Aemond inquired.

" What have I done?!" Your body tremored with laughter, " Perhaps you should ask yourself that question. Better yet ask yourself that question when your tongue is down Aly-"

Aemond watched in horror as your mocking laughter turned into a coughing fit. One that resulted in the bloody flowers that haunted your every waking moment. Aemond's trembling hands latched onto your arms quickly as you began to sway. It wasn't until Aemond pressed his lips to your chilled forehead that the petals ceased. His affection was a momentary bliss that swept the chronic darkness back under the rug in your mind, but moments don't last forever.

Aemond pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you."

"You're the reason I'm like this." You scoffed, still resting against him.

" Then let me fix my mistakes-"

" You can not love someone back to life, Aemond. I will fix this myself." Your tone held no malice towards him, rather exhaustion. The last wave of sickness had taken quite a bit from you. Nevertheless, you were strong and independent. You needed to prove to Aemond that you did not need him to save you.

" I shall retire to my personal chambers tonight. Fair well, dear husband." Hearing you say 'husband' rather than ñuha zaldrīzes, My dragon, felt like a hot lashing to Aemond. Even when the two of you fought he was always 'your dragon', but perhaps this was your way of punishing him.

" Fair well, Ñuha prūmia" My Heart, and boy oh boy did your heart stutter upon hearing that again. Regardless of the feeling in your chest you kept walking until you were out of the room. Leaving Aemond to stand in the mess of your blood. In another life that would've been the last time Aemond saw you, but something had changed.

Aemond realized weeks later that it wasn't something that had changed, rather someone, and that someone was you. Your smile had begun to come back, as had your laughter and spirit. If only he knew how many sleepless nights and burning tears you had to fight through to get those things back. Part of Aemond held hope for a moment that he had a helping hand in it. Oh how asinine he was. He should've realized that you only begun to improve after avoiding him. That your eyes would never meet his. Not even now as the two of you occupied the gardens alongside Aemys and the ever dutiful Lark. Aemond had seen the hyena in the shadows quite a bit lately, watching his every move. Almost as if the beast was your eyes.

Your giggle caught him off guard as Lark took a bundle of grapes from your hand and dropped them into Aemys's little lap, "Lark, you traitor! I knew you first!"

~ " Traitor." You had grumbled with a hidden smile as the Hyena trotted over to the pair of you casually. Aemond had let you down so that you could turn to face him.~

Aemond now wishes he would've held you a bit longer, a bit tighter, but we don't all get what we wish for. He knows that you most certainly didn't, and he is the one to blame for that.

" You said the same thing to her all those years ago when she chose me over you" Aemond chuckled, moving to crouch beside you.

You looked to him with genuine confusion clouding your eyes, " I don't remember that?"

"What?" Aemond felt his world stop for a moment.

" I only remember you telling me that you must inspect my journal to be sure that your future wife wasn't hiding any secrets" Your eyes had never held anything other than love for Aemond, but now he couldn't detect anything other than curiosity and confusion.

" Alright...how about our wedding night? What do you remember of that?"

You tilted your head in thought before speaking, " We performed our duty, I know that much."

Aemond felt his throat close up. You had done the exact same thing his mother had done when she dealt with Hanahaki's. Willingly letting go of any memory that pertained his love for you as a way to ease your symptoms. There could be no unrequited love if you didn't remember why you loved him in the first place. In your eyes your friendship had ended long ago and been replaced by a political marriage.

" My love.."

"Hmm?" You peered up at him with a newfound clarity that he couldn't bring himself to destroy. Aemond knew he would have to fight to get things back to the way they used to be. Aemond would have to earn your love and affection. Honestly, it was the least he could do after how he took it for granted mere weeks ago. The journey from friends to lover would have to be rebuilt, and Aemond was willing to do whatever he needed to. He would start in the only way he knew how.

" Would you like to see the lilacs?"

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon angst #angst

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