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gimmethatagustd · 4 months

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the flower knight (2) | kth + myg

A disciple of the Mugunghwa Temple, Yoongi has lived a pious life free of the vices of the outside world. That is until the temple must become a safehouse for wounded soldiers when war breaks out, and Yoongi catches the eye of a certain military commander.

○ Pairing: Soldier!Taehyung x Healer!Yoongi

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Historical fantasy, magic, pistilverse, strangers to lovers, forbidden love, angst, eventual smut, eventual fluff

○ Word Count: 3,579

○ Warnings: Brief but perhaps a little unsettling depiction of injuries. Reference to minor character death (due to injury, but no actual violence occurs in this chapter).

○ Notes: Hi pls enjoy Chapter 2! I apologize for the angst 😶

○ Post Date: January 8, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Yoongi is one of the finest healers of all the temple pistils, though he would never admit this fact himself. Humble to a fault, Yoongi tends to his duties at the infirmary with humility and sound devotion – as every pistil healer should. The role suits him best. He lacks the creativity required to care for the children as Namjoon does, and he isn’t particularly social enough for duties around the temple grounds that require much human interaction, such as cooking in the dining hall or teaching religion. He can stay quiet and focused in the infirmary, with only the other healers around. Luckily, the other healers are just as soft-spoken and pleasant as Yoongi, so he rarely has any troubles with them.

Except for today.

Bad things always come in threes, and the Second Bad Thing rolls through the temple grounds like the thunderstorm approaching from the east, a wall of dark gray clouds barreling toward them like enemies at the front lines. As much as he tries to be optimistic, Yoongi felt something eerie ache in his bones as he hurried to the infirmary this morning, his woven basket carrying Mugunghwa petals and stems clutched to his chest.

Nature is sacred to the Mugunghwa monks, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t terrifying. Nature is the gods’ way of speaking, and sometimes, Yoongi would prefer not to know what they have to say.

“I hope it doesn’t rain,” Areum says absentmindedly as she uses a mortar and pestle to grind up Mugunghwa petals.

Yoongi sits on the floor on a small cushion with his legs crossed, his own mortar and pestle on a small table in front of him. He grinds the seeds, and Seungwoo, who sits beside him, grinds the stems. The three healers work efficiently, each with their own tasks to quicken the process. Making medicine isn’t difficult, but it can be time-consuming. Magic is a finicky thing, Yoongi has learned during his healer training. The Mugunghwa are sensitive; any wrong step in the process and the entire batch of medicine must be thrown out.

“I’m afraid it may,” Seungwoo says with a long sigh, “Which means the children will be stuck inside and restless. And annoying.”

“You’re so cranky, Seungwoo. Don’t you remember being a child?” Areum teases him.

Seungwoo points his pestle at Areum, who sits opposite them at the table. “I remember you being annoying as a child!”

The two pistils bicker as they have since they were children. Yoongi finds it distracting, but he can’t deny that it’s also rather endearing. Since Junseo’s banishment and the start of purity sweeps, the temple grounds haven’t felt the same. Yoongi wakes to less laughter coming from the courtyards, and fewer friends hang out in common areas like the dining hall and prayer rooms, instead choosing to socialize almost exclusively in the dormitories.

Yoongi can’t blame them. He, too, is still shaken from that fateful day and the subsequent purity sweeps – though they haven’t been frequent, they are still uncomfortable. Yoongi no longer worries that he will be mistakenly accused of being marked, but the sweeps make him sweat anyway.

“I heard Misuk-ssi talking about the war this morning,” Areum says lowly.

She quickly takes a peek at the door. It’s still shut, and the walls in the temple are thick, so it is unlikely that anyone will hear the three healers speaking. Areum is accustomed to sneaking around, though.

Yoongi hasn’t forgotten that she is the one Namjoon heard speaking with Misuk-ssi about Junseo.

“Oh?” Seungwoo asks with a raise of his eyebrows, though he doesn’t look up from his work grinding the Mugunghwa stems.

“Don’t you want to know what she said?”

Seungwoo rolls his eyes. “You will tell me regardless, will you not?”

“What about you?” Areum turns to Yoongi, clearly unsatisfied with Seungwoo’s response.

Yoongi isn’t fond of gossip, but he is curious about news of the war. He knows very little about it, preferring to live in bliss. Politics and religion are strictly separated in their kingdom. The only engagement monks have with politicians and soldiers is distributing medicine, and Yoongi is perfectly content with that.

“I’m a bit curious…” Yoongi says quietly, only meeting Areum’s gaze for a moment before he quickly looks back at his word. The seeds are a fine powder now.

“Ugh, fine,” Areum huffs. Yoongi doesn’t understand why; she’s getting what she wants, isn’t she? A captive audience?

“Misuk-ssi received a letter from someone, I don’t know who, about a battle near the temple! Only a three-day trip,” Areum talks excitedly, a gleam in her eyes. Some people thrive off of gossip, Yoongi thinks. He hopes he never becomes one of those people.

“That… is a very bad thing…” Seungwoo stares at her with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, yes,” Areum visibly deflates with sagged shoulders and a pouted mouth, “But how interesting, right? So many things are happening. Nothing ever happens here.”

“I would rather nothing happen than war,” Seungwoo mutters as he gets up. He holds his hand out for Yoongi to pass him the mortar of ground seeds. “Imagine the other kingdom learns of our golden water and sends their soldiers after us. What would become of us, then?”

The conversation ends there as Seungwoo and Areum work together to light the fire needed to heat the water they’ll use for the medicine, but Seungwoo’s question lingers in Yoongi’s mind for the rest of the morning.

What would become of them?

He has heard of horrible things happening to pistils who cross paths with the stamen soldiers from enemy kingdoms, things he would never repeat to anyone, things he can hardly visualize.

Yoongi wonders when Misuk received that letter and where it came from. Letters often take days to reach the temple due to its remote location. For all they know, the enemy soldiers could now be on their way to the temple.

Or, worse, already here and biding time until the opportune moment to attack.

Sufficiently disturbed, Yoongi finishes his duties at the infirmary in time for lunch with a heart more thunderous than the weather. He should have never given in to Areum’s need for gossip.

Yoongi and Namjoon are clearing their table in the dining hall when the gongs sound. They stare at each other for a split second before jumping into action, leaving their things behind as they rush to the exit. Namjoon sprints off toward the center of the temple grounds, where the children’s classrooms are, while Yoongi rushes toward the entrance where the infirmary is located.

In his twenty-one years at the temple, Yoongi has never heard the gongs, though he has been trained on what to do if he does hear them. Every monk is told to get to their home base – whichever part of the temple grounds they have a duty to. Namjoon cares for the children, so he is responsible for watching over them in an emergency, whereas Yoongi must care for the sick and injured, if there are any.

It is easier to know what to do when you are told by your elders in the off-chance that something might happen. It is more difficult when something is happening.

The monks push each other out of the way in the halls. Yoongi is nearly knocked over more than once by a panicking peer; not everyone is cut out for handling emergencies. Yoongi isn’t even sure if he is, but his body operates on its own, propelling him through the building’s front doors.

Outside, everything is gray. Sheets of water rain down hard enough to knock a few children over as they scramble through the courtyard to seek shelter. Mud cakes their white hanboks and slides down their limbs. Yoongi can’t tell who they are; the rain obscures everything, turning the world into a blurry mess he can’t blink away.

The gods have something to say, and Yoongi doesn’t think it’s anything good.

Panic finally sets into Yoongi’s chest when the cold water hits him in the face as he sprints across the courtyard. He can hardly breathe with the rain getting in his nose and mouth. Twice he slips and falls on his butt in puddles of mud. A sharp pain shoots through his pelvis, and he thinks he may have landed on a rock. He can’t tell if the back of his thigh is bleeding because the wetness he feels could be rain, mud, blood, or a mixture of all three.

A battle near the temple!

Areum’s voice chants to the beat of Yoongi’s sandals slapping against the soggy ground and the continuous ringing of the gong.

Only a three-day trip.

Yoongi doesn’t stop running until the infirmary is in view. Its green walls and intricate patterning stand out amongst the gray, as does the large group of men clad in military uniforms and body armor – blurry splotches of red in Yoongi’s vision, the color of their kingdom.

The scene before him shakes him to his core. He finds himself rooted to his spot as other healer pistils run back and forth between the infirmary and the group of stamens outside. There are dozens of them, more than there are beds in the infirmary, Yoongi is positive. They’re soaked through their uniforms, thick red fabrics, leather, and armor drenched. Yoongi can’t imagine how heavy it must be, especially considering how malnourished most of the men look. Very few of them stand on their own, most having to be propped up against the infirmary walls or leaned against each other for support.

As Yoongi walks through the group, he meets the eyes of men who look at him but don’t see him. They stare into the wall of rain unblinking; others don’t even open their eyes. Some of them cry – the ones Yoongi thinks are younger. Some of them scream.

Nearly every stamen Yoongi walks past is injured. The closer he gets, the more blood he sees. It flows in rivers from large gashes in the men’s arms and abdomens, mixing with rainwater and mud. There are men missing eyes and ears, fingers, and even an entire hand. One man has an arrow sticking out of his chest. It’s splinted at the end like someone tried ripping it out and broke it in half. Yoongi worries the man may not be with them because of how still his chest is.

“Yoongi-ya!”

Through the rain, Yoongi sees one of the lead healers, Hoseok, waving at him. He hurries to the pistil’s side with his hands above his eyes to shield himself from the rain.

“Come with me,” Hoseok shouts over his shoulder, already rushing into the infirmary.

Yoongi nearly slips on the wet floor when he steps inside but manages to keep up with Hoseok’s quick pace. The infirmary isn’t immune to chaos, either. Monks rush past each other, passing medicinal salves, bandages, and medical instruments. He peeks inside the rooms as he follows Hoseok down the hall. Tables are blanketed with sheets and pillows as makeshift beds, and even the tubs used to wash patients are being used as beds.

“This one,” Hoseok holds open the door to one of the patient rooms near the back of the infirmary, where it’s not as loud, away from the chaos at the front entrance.

Yoongi is surprised to find a crowd inside the room. Multiple men hover around a singular cot on the floor. They kneel shoulder to shoulder as though guarding the man lying on the cot, and Hoseok has to shout at them multiple times before they clear a path for him.

“He’s struggling to breathe,” one of the men calls out once the room has quieted. He kneels near the injured man’s head, one of his hands gripping the man’s shoulder possessively.

Hoseok beckons Yoongi closer before sinking to his knees beside the cot. “We need to remove his armor.”

After a few seconds, Hoseok stares up at Yoongi, his mouth set in a thin line.

“Yoongi, I need you to help me remove his armor and the rest of his uniform so we can see where he is injured.”

“I– Me?”

“Yoongi, now!”

Immediately falling to his knees, Yoongi scrambles to find the clasps and buckles that hold the man’s uniform together. He tries to ignore how hard his hands shake and worries he will ruin his reputation for being an excellent healer if he appears too nervous in front of Hoseok.

The thing is, Yoongi has never met a stamen before, let alone touched one.

He doesn’t think the stamen orphans who live at the temple until their awakening count since they immediately leave once awoken. Those stamens are just kids, not grown men. It’s different.

But it can’t be different, not right now when this man is dying.

It only takes a few minutes for Hoseok and Yoongi to remove the stamen’s armor and cut open his shirt, but minutes are a matter of life and death in a situation like this.

The severity of the situation is confirmed when Hoseok removes the final piece of fabric.

Someone in the room gasps. Yoongi worries it may have been himself, but he barely holds onto his mental state to know. All he can do is stare at the open wounds that litter the man’s torso. Gashes and holes reveal flayed flesh, most cut deep enough to expose bones. Yoongi wonders how the man’s internal organs have managed to stay inside him.

Yoongi looks up at the man at the head of the cot with confusion. “How did his armor not protect him?”

“Their swords were, were–” the man closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “It was magic I have never seen before. Swords that cut through metal armor like a knife through sundubu.”

Hoseok grabs Yoongi’s shoulders and squeezes him so tightly that Yoongi lets out a pained whimper.

“Yoongi, I need you to go to the well and bring back as much water as you can carry as fast as you can. Do you understand me?” He shakes Yoongi’s shoulders, fire and fear in his eyes. “Gukseon Kim’s life depends on it.”

The gods must favor Yoongi because it stops raining once he reaches the well. He doesn’t have time but must rest for a few moments to catch his breath, leaning up against the old stone as he gasps. His calves burn, and blisters have formed from the slide of his feet in his wet sandals. His entire body feels pruned; he’s sure he looks like a wet cat.

Why had Hoseok chosen him for this task? Yoongi is young, and although he has a good reputation, he is merely a student. He has much more to accomplish before he can call himself a true healer, yet Hoseok chose him to aid in caring for a soldier.

Not just any soldier, Yoongi thinks as he draws the golden water from the well in as large of a bucket as he can safely carry. The patient dying on that cot is the leader of the military unit seeking shelter at the temple, one of the highest commanding soldiers in their entire kingdom.

And if he dies, it will be Yoongi’s fault.

Yoongi safely returns the bucket to the infirmary full of the sacred gold water that feeds the magic of the Mugunghwa. Ingesting the magic from the source is far more powerful than the medicine the monks make, but it’s a remedy that is saved for only the most terrible of injuries. This poor stamen fits the criteria.

“Give him the water using this,” Hoseok thrusts a small cup into Yoongi’s hands. “If he doesn’t swallow, just give him small droplets so he at least has something in his system.”

Taking the cup and a smaller bucket Hoseok has used to portion off some of the water, Yoongi kneels beside the man’s head. Hoseok uses the rest of the water to cleanse the stamen’s wounds and sew him back together. It’s a grisly affair that Yoongi can’t help but watch, even as sick as it makes him to see a human’s innards up close.

It’s just Yoongi, Hoseok, and one other soldier in the room now. Seokjin, Yoongi has learned, is the second-in-command. He sits across from Yoongi, never once taking his eyes off Hoseok as he works to put his leader back together. Yoongi doesn’t blame Seokjin for being cautious; he can’t imagine the horrors they’ve all gone through.

“Will he live?” Seokjin asks quietly. He intertwines their fingers as he looks down at the injured man.

“I hope so,” Hoseok replies with bloody arms and a thin mouth.

The soldier’s lips are chapped and caked with blood, but they’re parted just enough for Yoongi to slip the lip of the cup between them. Carefully, he lets a few droplets of water trickle into his mouth. Yoongi can see the stamen’s features better now that he is up close. His long, dark hair that was once tied up now cascades around his shoulders, made messy by Yoongi and Hoseok removing his upper garments. His tan skin looks pale from the loss of blood, but a regal air about him is undeniable – it’s in the sharpness of his nose and prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes and the heart-shaped bow of his upper lip make him look almost content as he lies there completely still.

He’s pretty, Yoongi thinks as he gives the stamen more water. Even covered in mud and blood, this man is pretty.

“What is his name?” Yoongi looks to Seokjin because Hoseok has already told him “Kim,” but Yoongi wants to know more than that.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin whispers, his gaze falling on the dying man instead of Yoongi. “His name is Taehyung, and he is my dearest friend.”

As if stirred by the sound of his name, Taehyung’s face twitches. The movement is subtle, but Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch it. He quickly lifts the cup to Taehyung’s lips again and watches with joy as the man swallows the small sips Yoongi gives him. He isn’t conscious, but he’s alive. As long as Yoongi can keep him drinking, he’ll survive.

Yoongi knows it.

Some of the soldiers die.

Since he is only a student, Yoongi isn’t required to assist the lead healers with the burials. His help is most valuable in the infirmary because there are more soldiers in critical care than there are lining up to return to the Earth. As important as the afterlife is, Yoongi cares far more about the living. He rushes between patients’ rooms carrying medicine and water, bringing clean rags, washing old ones, and repairing broken medical equipment. He hardly sees Namjoon in the days following the soldiers’ arrival, but there’s far too much on Yoongi’s plate to think about socialization.

On the fourth day, Yoongi finds that his responsibilities will increase exponentially when he runs into Hoseok in the courtyard. Yoongi carries a small bucket of gold water to the infirmary, as requested by Seungwoo, who is in charge of the students while the lead healers are busy.

“Hobi hyung,” Yoongi greets with a bow of his head. Very few older monks allow students to speak to them more casually, but Hoseok has always taken a liking to Yoongi, even when he’s tough on him.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Hoseok admits. His voice is hoarse from shouting orders, and dark bags circle his eyes. “I need you to care for Gukseon Kim, and before you say no–” Hoseok holds up his hand when Yoongi begins to protest, “I need you to understand that there is no other student at this temple who I trust more than you to care for this man.”

Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek and stares at the bucket he carries. His reflection sparkles up at him in the gold water, masking how tired he feels.

Is he skilled enough to care for the leader of a ferocious military group? What will happen to him if their gukseon dies under his care? How could Yoongi forgive himself, even if nothing happened to him?

“Okay,” Yoongi says quietly, returning Hoseok’s gaze.

“You’ll do well,” Hoseok claps Yoongi on the shoulder, firm and proud, “And if you need anything, you come to me.”

Yoongi nods, not needing to be told twice. He would have gone to Hoseok anyway.

“We will relocate him to the dormitories, the room adjacent to yours, for easier access. We will need the extra space in the infirmary anyway.”

Junseo’s room was the room adjacent to Yoongi’s.

“Do you need help moving him?” Yoongi asks, but Hoseok shakes his head.

“Seungwoo and some others are handling that. Gukseon Kim will be ready for you by this afternoon.”

Yoongi watches Hoseok cut through the courtyard toward the grand temple, likely for his midday prayer. Yoongi has spent all his prayers on the pretty gukseon in the past four days, though he’ll never admit it. He doesn’t necessarily feel shame, but it feels strange to think so much about another person – especially a stamen. Stamens are hardened, built for violence, yet the gukseon was soft.

With a sigh, Yoongi reminds himself that it’s likely Taehyung was only soft because he was unconscious and returns to the chaos of the infirmary. At least in a few hours, he’ll have a more peaceful location to care for Taehyung.

Series Masterlist

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

(Borrowed from here and revised to fit my fic)

Pistilverse AU - A South Korean fanfic trope wherein almost all humans experience an “awakening” during puberty that assigns them into one of two botanically-inspired groups: Pistils and Stamens. These groups are denoted by marks on the person’s body, similar to tattoos.

Pistil and Stamens - Pistils develop a mark of a barren tree that appears along their spine after their awakening, while stamens develop a flower somewhere on their body after their awakening.

Awakening - The moment a flower or tree appears on a person’s body, signifying their status as a pistil or stamen. You could look at it as a coming-of-age moment in a person’s life. These are typically painful for pistils. A pistil might experience more than one awakening if their tree becomes too full of flowers.

Marks/Marking - When a pistil sleeps with a stamen, the stamen’s flower blooms on the pistil’s tree branches. The number of flowers a pistil has is proportional to that of the stamens they had sex with. In this fic, pistils with many flowers are considered promiscuous and experience slut shaming based on religion.

Marked - The term used to describe a pistil who has received a stamen’s flower on their body.

Mugunghwa - The national flower of South Korea.

Gukseon - A Chief officer of a Hwarang group. The Hwarang were an elite warrior group in Silla, an ancient kingdom of the Korean Peninsula until the 10th century.

Seonsaengnim - A respectful honorific for a teacher.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taegi #taehyung x yoongi #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #tfk

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