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#some believe in allergies but think if you have them you're meant to die from them as intended
gxlden-angels · 6 months
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Idk I think it's funny seeing people on twitter say things like "Christians want to tell you it's all a part of Jesus's plan until it's them!" cause like idk about you but I've had family members 100% say they're ready to meet the Lord than interfere with his plans via a Tylenol and a flu shot
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julian-anderson · 7 months
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Task 01
001. what is your full name?
Julian Anderson
002. what is your parents names? (what was their occupation?)
I dont remember, i was taken from them at a very young age.
003. do you have any allergies, diseases or other physical weaknesses?
Nope.
004. write a full physical description of yourself. you might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.
I'm six feet and 185 pounds. Im white with dark brown hair and eyes. Casual i guess. I've got two tattoos. One on my shoulder and another on my neck
005. to which social class did you belong in before the outbreak?
working i guess
006. are you right- or left-handed?
both
007. what does your voice sound like?
Like any other guys, i dont fucking know how to describe it.
008. what words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?
Fuck
009. what was your first kiss like and with who?
It was good and some girl i use to work with. we ended up having sex.
010. do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? are you in love right now?
Fuck no and no
011. how do you feel about marriage?
Against it
012. who are / is your best friend? what do you like about them?
Dont really have a best friend, i have friends but none that are a best friend.
013. when was the last time you were hurt? who did it?
When my ex girlfriend cheated on me.
014. talk about one person you've met recently and what did you think of them?
Alexandra. She seems nice, very beautiful. @alexsaysdrink
015. would you say that you're more of a leader or a follower?
Leader, i dont follow people
016. when was the moment you really realized that the outbreak wasn't going away? that your life was completely changed? if you were a kid, when do you think you realized you grew up?
When i saw my ex infected. If she got infected that meant other people would be to. when i was taken away from my home thats when my life changed and realized i grew up
017. what's your weapon of choice?
A knife
018. what do you look for in a partner? or describe what your dream partner would be like? what do they look like? what color is their hair? how tall are they? what's their attitude like? be descriptive.
What makes you think i want a partner?
019. what are you afraid of? tangible and unavoidable? (tangible: spiders, ghosts, snakes / unavoidable: aging, dying)
Tangible: Nothing. Unavoidable: probably dying
020. what is your worst memory?
my dad hitting my mom
021. What is your favorite memory?
Finding Milo and raising him.
022. what’s your reputation with the people around you. do they like you? dislike you? why?
A little bit of both i would say. I sleep around but im one hell of a chef, what does that tell you?
023. if you could relive one memory, one last time which would it be?
There is none, don't have a memory worth reliving
024. when you were a kid were you bullied or teased? for what?
Fuck no, i'd beat the shit out of them.
025. if you could tell your younger self something, what would it be?
Get use to being alone kid, people suck.
026. what is a goal you want to accomplish before you die?
None now that we will in a fucked up world.
027. if you could pick anyone in town to tell your life story, who would it be and why?
No one, it's no one's business about my life story.
028. do you believe there is or could be a cure to be made? and do you think that it could restore humanity?
Hahahahaha hell no. This would be over if there was one and i doubt there is anything to get that shit together.
029. if the outbreak never happened, what would you have wanted to do for a living?
Working as a chef in a high end restaurant
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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years
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You were all I wanted
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Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, kidnapping, human trafficking, slight mention of body shaming, allusion to non-con.
Words: 2195.
Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.
P.S. Peter is an adult!
__________
"We hope you are going to enjoy your new girl, Mr. Stark." The man loosened his grip on your shoulder as he let you march straight into the arms of a stranger in a fancy striped suit and big frightening men with guns surrounding him.
"Nah, this one isn't for me." The stranger who bought you brushed it off as if your presence meant nothing. "She's a present for the boy. Peter, where the fuck are you?"
You almost jumped at his loud voice, keeping your head low and watching your unstable feet. Well, you expected as much - before you that mysterious Mr. Stark bought one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. Her striking black hair was shining even in the dim lights of the dressing room where all captured girls were taken care of before the start of the auction. She costed twice more than you and had much more admirers - you remembered how men were shouting, trying to outbid each other. You weren't that popular, but still ended up being purchased by the same man she was. Now it all made sense.
"I'm here, Mr. Stark!" A young boy's head popped out in the crowd of other buyers, and he emerged right in front of you with a long men's coat in his hands. "I'm sorry it took me so long!"
"Look at this gent." The man smirked at him, and his guards laughed a little at the boy's enthusiasm. "So caring! I hope you're not going to take the girl straight to church?"
Now there was an inappropriately loud burst of laughter, and you bit your own tongue. They all were a bunch of bastards, but your life depended on them now. You needed to keep your mouth shut if you wanted to make it out alive.
The boy smiled brightly at his patron and looked at you with sparkles of happiness in his dark eyes. Oh, at least he was more or less pleased with the way you looked, you thought.
"Congrats with your first girl, Peter." Mr. Stark's smug grin suddenly turned warm at the sight of the boy who was almost jumping with excitement in front of him. "You're sure she's the one you want? I can still get a replacement if you've changed your mind."
"No, no, Mr. Stark, she's perfect for me!" Once the man in the suit nudged you to come closer to the boy, Peter gently wrapped your shoulders into the coat he carried and smiled at you widely. "Thank you so much for your present, sir!"
"Enjoy, kid." His patron smirked and motioned to the men waiting for him. "Let's get going then, I have business to attend to."
Judging by their nasty smirks, his business had something to do with that gorgeous black-haired woman they took somewhere earlier. You did your best not to throw up at the thought of him forcing her down her knees.
"Can you walk?" The boy suddenly asked you quietly, and you blinked. "Do you want me to carry you?"
Nice joke. The guy looked twice slimmer than you, skinny as a rail. You'd break him in half, probably. You weren't sure whether he was mocking you, but it was obviously not the right time to throw a temper tantrum.
"I can walk. Thank you." You mumbled and made a step towards those men who were already leaving.
"Ok. Come with me then." You thought his boyish smile looked pretty.
You walked past other girls dressed in expensive flashy lingerie adorned with glitter, sequins, and laces. Some of young women were as terrified as you were, their faces red with tears; the others seemed strangely happy, shouting something to each other and giggling in front of their new masters - you thought those girls were prostitutes or someone of the same kind because the idea of laughing happily after being bought like a piece of clothing didn't sit well with you. You spotted a few more ladies who were still unstable on their feet because they were given too much drugs, probably. Two dozens women, maybe more, were gathered in a place like that to become someone's property. Like you did now.
It was cold outside despite September being usually warm in New York. You had never lived here before, but one of your friends moved in the Big Apple two years ago and was always talking about nice weather they often enjoyed.
"It's right over there." The boy pointed to one of the cars in a long row of them, Mr. Stark already getting inside a ridiculously fashionable one. Peter's old Honda was nowhere near that, but you were relieved. It made you feel like you weren't taken to some scary place full of criminals waiting to fuck the shit out of you.
The kid opened the door for you like you were some fairytale princess or something, and you got inside, holding the coat that almost slipped from your shaking shoulders while the boy quickly landed on the driver's seat. You couldn't guess his age, but if he drove the car he was probably older than 16.
"I'm so sorry, I know you're cold." He glanced at your silk robe beneath the coat, your legs bare - you had nothing but fluffy slippers on your feet. "It'll get better in a minute."
What a considerate little guy. If he didn't show up with that overconfident mobster who looked like he owned New York, you'd think Peter was some sweet high schooler who spent his weekends working in an animal shelter. But you weren't stupid to believe his innocent looks.
At one point you thought he might be Mr. Stark's illegitimate son, but something told you  it wasn't that. The way Peter looked at him with adoration proved that the man was more of his patron as you suspected from the very beginning.
"I know they didn't feed you today, so I brought you some chicken soup." He said and reached to grab something from the back seat - you glanced at the metal food jar thermos that softly landed on your naked lap.
Did he bring you food? For real? No, it must be some trick - there were drugs or something like that there, for sure. Why else was this guy playing the role of your mother, for God's sake?
"You're not allergic to chicken, are you?" Kid looked concerned, watching the troubled expression on your face. "Oh shoot, I didn't check your allergies!"
"I'm not allergic." You quickly replied, afraid to make him upset.
He was getting restless too fast, you thought. Peter really behaved like a kid. What was that Mr. Stark told him after the auction? Something like "congrats with your first girl", wasn't it? So, it probably meant Peter had never been with a woman before. Not that you had been with a man, either. Maybe that's why he picked you.
But it also could be all an act. Teenagers weren't getting slaves to take care of their sexual needs. Maybe this Peter wasn't as young as you thought, and in fact he was some psycho who planned to drug, rape and murder you.
Either way, he would get mad if you didn't get started with that soup - you could read it in his face.
Opening the jar, you felt a delicious smell filling your nostrils when your stomach made an ugly sound. Damn, you had never been so hungry in your entire life.
The truth was the supervisors who took care of all the girls before the auction made you starve for two days "to get you in shape". They said you were too fat and they had to do something to make you at least a bit more presentable.
"Well, if I'm going to die, I will die with a full stomach." You thought gloomly and started gulping down the warm soup. It tasted heavenly good.
The boy watched you in awe as if you were becoming more and more beautiful with eash sip.
"I'm not much of a cook, but Aunt May managed to teach me to make a chicken soup." He said with a sudden warmth to his voice. "So, um, don't worry, you won't die of starvation with me."
You forced yourself to smile at his attempt to make a small joke. As far as you were concerned, your body was perfectly okay even after you finished eating. Maybe the drug took longer to start affecting you, but maybe you were just lucky and there was nothing in the soup at all.
All of a sudden, Peter's phone started ringing, and he took it from the pocket of his jacket immediately.
"Where the fuck are you again, kid?" You could hear Stark's thundering voice even from your seat.
"I'm sorry, sir!" The boy squeaked and adjusted his seatbelt. "We're coming!"
____________
The room he brought you to was fairly large and comfortable to your tastes: there were a comfy king-sized bed, a huge table with a dozen of oddly-looking gadgets and two screens, a chair, a drawer and a closet. There was also a newly-bought TV that wasn't set up yet, and a microwave on a side table.
"I'm terribly sorry for the mess." Peter apologized to you as if you were his parent who came to scold him. "Don't worry, I'll take it all away. Please come and sit here."
He briefly gestured to the bed, and you bit down on your lower lip nervously. The kid was fast.
You didn't talk much in the car since you were waiting for the drug to kick in, but nothing happened. As for Peter, you thought that he was too shy to talk, but maybe he just didn't want to. In the end, he asked his patron to buy you for a very different reason.
"The bathroom is over there. You can take your shower, if you want." He smiled childishly at you.
How could he keep such innocent face when he was about to rape you?
You gathered whatever courage you had left and said, "C-can we talk?"
The boy froze on the spot and dropped whatever gadget he was holding back on the table. You glanced at his skinny boyish figure, that dark ruffled hair and a really pretty face - he looked like your neighbor's sweet son who would climb a tree to get a cat stuck up there back to the ground.
"Of course!" Peter landed on the bed close to you, watching you with his undying enthusiasm. "What would you like to talk about?"
"Why did you choose me?"
You really wanted to know. You weren't the usual goods they sold on that auction, the human traffickers said. Though there were a few girls who weren't breathtakingly beautiful, most of the ones brought there were well above average women. They looked like they came straight from Victoria's Secret Show.
"Well... um." You could see his ears getting red. "You're... pretty. I like you."
Huh, funny. Why did you ask? The answer was obvious - you were cheap. Mr. Stark didn't want to spend too much money on a present for the kid, so Peter had rather limited choice, probably.
"Why are you getting upset?" He sounded so concerned that you made yourself smile again to calm him down. Anyway, it was better to be grateful. You were almost sold to some disgusting old man. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, you didn't. I'm sorry." You hurried to say. "I'm sorry you didn't get anyone better than me. That place was full of magnificent women."
What the fuck were you saying? Did you seriously think those poor souls deserved to be sold like cattle just because they were prettier than you? God, you were so messed up.
"Wait, no!" The boy grabbed your hands in his and made you flinch involuntarily. "No, no, you're beautiful! I chose you because I like you more than anyone else."
Bewildered, you looked at his worried expression, his eyes staring at you intensely while you squeezed your thighs together. Hearing the boy say that felt very odd, but kind of... comforting? Not many people ever called you beautiful, mind your mother and a few friends. It was stupid to think about it now when the one calling you that was the man whose property you had become, yet you couldn't help but get those little butterflies in your stomach.
You eyes watered, and you quickly wiped your tears away.
"People were treating you badly, weren't they? It's terrible." The boy pulled out a pack of napkins and took one, gently pressing it to your wet cheek. "But I swear I fell in love with you once I saw your photos on the website. You're the prettiest girl I've ever met, for real!"
When he removed the napkin, you saw his pupils dilating and felt his breath becoming ragged, heavy. One of his hands rested on your thigh as he leaned closer to you and sniffed your hair. Your body went stiff.
"No one gonna say anything nasty to you from now on. I'll make sure of that."
_________
Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3
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wickedbarnes · 4 years
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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not | John Wick x Reader
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PROMPT: Hanahaki Disease AU! Reader realizes she's in love with John but John, on the other hand, can't reciprocate the feelings because he's still in love with Helen. And so, reader begins to cough blood red rose petals...
WARNING: Major angst. Blood. Get your tissues ready.
NOTE: This is my take on the fictional disease so please don't attack me if some of the concepts of it is wrong. I just did it so there would be more impact to the story. An explanation for my take on the Hanahaki will be provided down below at the end of the oneshot to avoid any confusions. Other than that, please enjoy!
--
If there was one thing you hated doing, it was breaking promises. And you rarely did it unless it was really necessary. But you hated it when you did. And this... this was a promise you swore you would never break. But here you were, staring down at your bloody palm, examining the rose petals that stuck to your skin.
A lone tear cascaded down your cheek as you wiped the blood from your lips.
It finally got to you. The disease. The same disease that had killed your beloved Mother. And you were sure it was the same one that was going to kill you.
You vividly remembered how your Mother would gush about how beautiful love was. How magical it is and how you'd feel as if you were floating when you experienced it. And in a way, she has a point. But not everything was easy.
Because along with love comes pain. The pain of a broken heart. And as you grew up you realized that love was only beautiful when it was reciprocated. When the person you love is in love with you as well. But like your mom, you weren't so lucky.
You had no one but John now. When your Mother died of the Hanahaki Disease, you swore- vowed, rather, that you would never fall in love. But that was, until John.
The moment you saw the man, you could tell just how miserable he seemed but there was something about him that just drew you in. He charmed women without even noticing it. And so you did the unthinkable and was bold enough to go ask him what drink he wanted and that it was on you.
You worked as a bartender in the Red Circle. And when you spotted John you had no idea what type of man he was and what type of world he lives in. But even after that, you didn't care. You still stuck with him.
And you didn't even plan on doing so. You just wanted to give the man something to look forward to. Something to give him a little boost. But when chaos broke and you were almost shot by Viggo's men, John was brave enough to catch the bullet himself before the rest of them ran out thinking they had finally killed the Baba Yaga.
That night, you couldn't just leave him there dying. You had insisted he goes to the hospital but he told you not to and instructed you to take him to the Continental. The hotel where you didn't even know housed assassins like him. You didn't know why but you had stayed with him the whole while he was being patched up despite the fact he kept telling you to leave because it would be dangerous.
But the stubborn person you are, you decided to stay. And the rest was history from there.
You felt it creep up on you. You could tell because you felt the same itch in your throat that didn't seem to go away ever since your feelings for John got stronger. But the moment you realized you were in love with him, fate had finally decided to give you a sign that the feelings you have for the man just wasn't mutual.
And in a way, you kind of understood why. The wedding band on John's finger was proof of that. It was the proof of his undying love for his late wife, Helen. Who were you to compete with that?
The whole situation caused you to let a laugh under your breath. How ironic. John Wick never intends on hurting you. And yet here he was, being the reason why you're ill today.
---
"Y/N, you need to rest, you've been coughing all day and you don't look too good. I can handle it from here." John tried to approach you but you instinctively moved away from him and sat down on the couch yourself. Your reaction took him aback but he quickly regained his composure and sat down next to you but made sure to give you some distance.
You were pretty sure the handkerchief you were coughing into was full of blood by now and you prayed no petal would fall off or it would only worry John even more. You suspected he knows about the disease as well.
Day by day, it was getting hard for you to breathe. You knew the plant inside your lungs was growing and every night you had battled and hoped it wouldn't be your last night. Even sleeping had come to terrify you. You were afraid you wouldn't wake up anymore.
"Y/N, are you alright? You're not telling me what's going on, I have to know so I can take care of you." John would say, concern written all over his face and your heart ached at the sight because you knew he only meant that as a friend.
"I'm fine, John, I'll be okay I told you it's just allergies." You sighed and stood up to get a glass of water when you felt the familiar itch on your throat creeping up again. But the moment you took a step forward, you leaned forward and began to heave as you wretched out blood along with rose petals on John's floor.
You somehow felt embarrassed but your body fell on the floor as you kept throwing up blood. John was almost sure he would've had a heart attack with what he saw. He immediately went over to you and rubbed your back, panic beginning to creep up in his body.
This was like when Helen was ill.
When you were finished throwing up, you opened your mouth to apologize but you found yourself going limp and passing out in John's arms.
John looked at the blood and rose petals that were smeared all over his floor. The realization hit him like a truck as his face began to go pale. He looked down at your unconscious body in horror.
"Y/N, what the hell..."
---
John couldn't even fathom looking at you like this. Pale and sickly looking. He hadn't noticed just how much you had lost weight and how horrible the bags under your eyes looked. You were always with him but he was too caught up in work that he barely had time to see how his friend was doing.
He knew about the Hanahaki disease. John remembered how someone in Ruska Roma died because of it. But he never expected you to get it.
The assassin pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back against the uncomfortable plastic chair. Who the hell were you in love with? You had never mentioned anyone from work that caught your eye. Nor did you introduce anyone to John. The idea of someone being the root of all this caused him to clench his fists until his knuckles turned white.
Whoever it was that didn't love you back, John was sure he was going to get a piece of his damn mind.
John's thoughts were cut off when the doctor came in and greeted him with a polite smile. When he looked at Y/N's records, the doctor let out a sigh and John knew this wasn't a good sign.
"Does she have family?" The doctor, Dr. Mercer had asked to which John responded by shaking his head no.
"I'm the only one she has now." Dr. Mercer nodded.
"Mr. Wick, I'm gonna be honest. Miss Y/L/N is in critical condition. The amount of blood that she threw up was very alarming. I'm sure you're aware of the Hanahaki Disease?" John nodded solemnly at the question and never took his eyes off you.
"Well, the plant inside her lungs is growing more and more. And it won't be long until it fully suffocates her. Looking at her x-rays right here, you can see that the plant is almost corrupting her lungs fully." Dr. Mercer showed your x-ray scan to John to which he took carefully and it only made the situation even real.
Was he going to lose another important person in his life? He already lost Helen and Daisy. He only has Dog now. Could he really lose you, too?
"Is there a cure to this?"
"There is. But... both of them aren't as easy as they sound." John looked up at the doctor with a confused look causing Dr. Mercer to sigh.
"In order to cure the patient, the person she's in love with has to love her back. And I don't mean platonic love. I mean, real genuine love. If that doesn't work, then we can surgically remove the root of the plant from her lungs."
John perked up at the mention of surgical removal of the plant. Obviously, whoever this person is didn't love you enough to even cure you. John felt that option two was the only logical option left. Or else, you'd die.
"I think I'd like the plant to be surgically removed from her."
"Mr. Wick, I think the patient has to decide for that. Because even though it could cure her, it would erase everything she felt and remembered about the person. Once the operation is done and successful, that person never existed for her. And unfortunately, Y/N here would be stripped away of the ability to experience romantic love. The removal of the root will cause that as well."
John couldn't believe what he was hearing. Y/N won't experience romantic love anymore? He looked at your frail body and put a hand over his face. He'd heard Dr. Mercer excuse himself but all John could think of was how he was going to save you.
He doesn't want you to live up your life not knowing how it feels to be in love and be loved by the person you're in love with. But if you don't do anything about this, you'd be six feet underground and time was slowly running out.
John's thoughts abruptly stopped when he noticed you waking up from a deep sleep. You had been out of it for about fourteen hours.
You fluttered your eyes open and took in your surroundings. Your throat felt really dry and you could use a tall drink of water. Looking around, your eyes soon fell on John who stood up from his chair and smiled softly down at you.
Your heart fluttered at how beautiful he is. You almost mistook him for an angel.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked softly and brushed away some of your hair away from your face. His touch sent shivers down your spine and in a way, it hurt for him to be here. He was so gentle and patient. Was he like that with Helen? Or was he even more loving when it came to her?
"Like death." You laughed softly as you averted your eyes to the glass of water that was sitting on the table beside your bed, "Can I get a drink, please?"
John immediately took the glass of water and helped you sit up from your bed so you could drink. You were dehydrated from the amount of blood you just threw up hours ago. John gently patted your head when he saw that you drank all of the water from the glass.
"Good girl." He'd praise you and your heart swelled at it but it made you cough a bit.
John sat back down on the plastic chair but brought it closer by your bed as he looked at you in the eye.
"Y/N, who did this to you?" He asked. It took you about a minute to figure out what he was on about. And then you remembered the disease. Your situation probably took a turn for the worse and you assumed what had happened earlier almost scared John to death.
"Y/N." John sighed. "You're one of my most trusted friend. The only friend I probably trust with my whole life, really. But you need to tell me what the fuck is going on. You're dying, honey, and someone is the cause of all this and it's frustrating that I don't know who it is."
It's you, you wanted to say but the words didn't come out the way you wanted them to. You didn't want to see the look on John's face when you laid out the truth. Even now, on the verge of death, you were afraid of what he'd think. You knew he has a lot on his plate and he's just getting the chance to finally grieve for Helen. You didn't want nor had the heart to tell him that he's the reason why you're dying.
"It's no one, John, he-" You pursed your lips and let out a breath as you looked down at your hands that were slightly stained with your own blood, "He went away he- he loves someone else and that's all you need to know."
John nodded and although he was frustrated you didn't tell him everything, you knew it was just because you didn't wanna dive back into the fact that this person didn't reciprocate the feelings you felt. So he understood.
"Y/N, Dr. Mercer gave me two options so you could be cured and he-"
"John, I can't be cured, he doesn't love me." You said firmly and it felt so different saying it in front of him like this when he has no idea it was him all along that you were in love with.
"I know, darling, I know." He grabbed your hand comfortingly and you almost hated him for acting like this when all along you knew it was just platonic. You were just a friend to him. Nothing more and nothing less.
"But then he told me about option two. Option two is that you can get the plant surgically removed from your lungs." You perked up at hearing this.
You never knew it could get surgically removed. Your mother never told you. So why didn't she do it?
"W-What? What do you mean I can get it surgically removed?" You asked as tears began to fill your eyes but John was patient enough to talk you through it.
"You can, it's possible. But it's not that easy, Y/N." He let out another sigh before looking up at your tear filled eyes, "When the operation is successful, all the memories you have of that person will be gone. Including your feelings for him. It was like he never existed. Apart from that, once the plant is removed from your body, you ability to experience romantic love wouldn't be there anymore."
Tears cascaded down your cheeks. Not because you wouldn't be able to fall in love again. But because the thought of forgetting John scared you so much. Were you going to remember him again? Can he reintroduce himself again to you? Or should you not go through with option two?
At that moment, you finally realized why your mother never had the plant inside her get removed. It was far more painful than anything else.
---
"I'm sorry for your loss, Jonathan." Winston would say as he poured a drink for the assassin and John just nodded at him in thanks.
"Some things are beyond our control." John replied as he took a big gulp of his drink. He needed it right now after all.
He just came back from the hospital and that was the first time in a while John had felt so overwhelmed. The hatred he had for himself just increased a ton.
You decided to go through with the operation after giving it a deep thought for a the whole day. John was happy. Although you weren't able to experience romantic love anymore, he assured you he'd be by your side every step of the way. Just like you had been for him.
But what came next almost made him collapse down to his knees.
Aurelio decided to pay you a little visit when your operation was done. He had found out about what had happened from John and you knew the man well enough that he could give you discounts whenever your car had problems.
When it was time for visitors, John felt ecstatic. You were alive. He wasn't losing someone important from him again. When they got inside the room, you had already woken up and had a nurse slowly help you sit up from your bed but the moment your eyes fell on John, he noticed the slight confusion written on your face.
"Y/N, God, I'm so happy the operation was successful." John smiled and tucked a piece of your hair and he noticed how your body stilled from the touch as you looked up at him with wide eyes.
Thhe reaction was weird but John brushed it off and thought that maybe, it was a side effect from the pain killers you'd been taking.
"Aurelio's here and brought you some stuff. You like those cookies from the bakery near his shop, right?" You found yourself nodding slowly at the man's question even though you had no idea who he is.
Who was he? And how does he know your name? How did he know you liked those chocolate chip cookies from that bakery near Aurelio's shop? It was starting to freak you out.
John took notice of your reaction and the nurse excused herself when she was finished checking your vitals. John put a finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him and in your eyes, he saw fear.
You never looked at him like that. Never. Not even once.
"Y/N, darling, what's wrong? Did I do something, why are you-"
"Who are you?" You asked, cutting him off and John looked at Aurelio to see if what he heard was right.
Aurelio looked at him and then back at you with shock written on his face.
"What? Y/N, it's me, John. Your friend, your best friend." John replied but you had no recollection of the man in front of you so you shook your head slowly.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so confused I don't know who you are." You apologized shyly and looked at Aurelio. "Aurelio, is he a friend of yours? I really don't remember him, I don't wanna seem so rude."
John stood there in his spot, completely frozen. You remember Aurelio but you had forgotten him. That could only mean one thing...
"Come on, Y/N, stop fooling around this isn't funny. Tell me you're just joking and you know who I am." John's voice was laced with desperation now and you took notice of how his eyes were starting to fill with tears and you had a sense he hated crying in front of people.
Why did you feel so guilty? As if you'd done something wrong?
You looked up at the man apologetically and shook your head at him. "I'm so sorry, John, I really don't know who you are. I believe I just met you. Aurelio would have introduced you to me back then but... I don't remember that he has."
John couldn't take it. Everything was so overwhelming. When he gruffly excused himself you watched as he hurriedly made his way out of your room and Aurelio followed soon after probably to chase after him.
You had no idea of who he was but you could never forget how heartbroken he seemed when he looked at you.
Did you know him before?
John, on the other hand, needed to get out of there and he ignored Aurelio's calls as he got into his car and sped down the road. He felt guilty for leaving you there all alone, probably so confused as to why you were there in the first place but he just needed to have his space.
And so here he was, sharing a drink with Winston.
"You weren't entirely fair with her as well, Jonathan. You couldn't blame her if she hadn't told you."
"I was grieving for my wife." John stated to which Winston replied with a hum.
"But you could've showed her you felt the same way. Maybe told her. Hanahaki disease is a complicated kind of illness. Y/N believed you were still in love with Helen. And maybe you still are. That's why she was on the verge of dying that day. But it could all have been cured if you two had just acted on your feelings right away. A lot of people die from that, you know."
John stayed silent and poured himself another drink.
He had moved on from Helen a year after the whole incident with Viggo and his son. If Helen was alive, she would've wanted John to live his life fully and that was the only way he could honor her. And he did, and that was thanks to you.
You were like a breath of fresh air and John was scared he might ruin the peace that you had in your life. And he kind of did in a way. But you were too stubborn to leave until he just couldn't handle the thought of you leaving.
Like you, it crept up on John and the familiar itch on his throat, as if he was about to cough kept popping out of nowhere. Especially when you were near him. And for a moment, he didn't want to believe he caught it. He couldn't be possibly catching feelings for you it was a dangerous game to play.
John believed everything he touched turns to ash and he wasn't turning you into one. You deserved far more better than that. And it'd be impossible for you to feel the same way about him, he's too damaged to be loved at this point. But it's true when they say that you can't help who you fall in love.
But today, today was different than the others. John placed the glass down and leaned back on his chair and soon leaned forward when he began to cough and cough and cough.
Winston looked at John with an unreadable expression on his face. As if he knew it was coming. Somehow, he felt bad for the man. He had lost his wife and the dog she gave to him. And in a way he lost you even though you were still perfectly alive.
And now the disease had caught up to him.
His hunch was right when he saw the blood on John's palm. John stared down at it and noticed that there were petals of your favorite flower sticking onto his hand along with his own blood.
The assassin stayed silent as he grabbed his handkerchief from his coat and wiped the bloody residue off his skin.
Winston poured the man another drink but this time, he didn't pour himself some. He knew John needed it more than he did.
"Are you going to remove it or not?"
John looked at Winston but the manager took it upon himself to get up from the chair and leave Jonathan alone in the rooftop to decide.
This was all a bad case of wrong timing and lack of courage, obviously. And John leaned back against the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a tear slip down his cheek.
Was he ready to go? Or will he risk forgetting about you like you did to him?
John realized just how difficult this all was. He realized now that it hurt to have you forget about him completely. Like he was dead to you. But knowing you, you would've made the decision just so you could live for John's sake. He knew you decided to live even though it would be hard on the both of you.
Because in your mind, you probably chose to live and see John again even though you had forgotten about him rather than die and let him live this world all alone without you.
But would it be the same for John? Could he really forget about you? Or was it time for him to go and let you be free?
Either way, as he began to cough once again, he knew that he needed to think fast and decide.
Time is gold and he's slowly running out of that.
---
A/N: I know in some stories this is not how the Hanahaki disease works but this is my take on it. Reader almost died because she believed that John would never love her the way she did. When all along, John was slowly developing feelings for her and while he did, he also didn't believe she'd have feelings for him because he believes he's too damaged to be loved. To put it shortly, my understanding of the Hanahaki is that as long as the protagonist believes the enamoured doesn't love them back, they'll slowly die. But as long as the enamoured confesses to the protagonist, they'll be cured of the disease. And if that doesn't work, the plant can be surgically removed.
The disease caught up to John and the reader because they didn't act upon their feelings and confessed to each other right away. They both believed everything was platonic between them. As a result, they kept it to themselves until it slowly killed them. In other words, this is all a bad case of wrong timing and lack of courage to say what they really wanted to say to each other.
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