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mdzsfan · 9 months

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A cruel symphony of love and suffering

Thank you so much for requesting @Aelsher_- ! (from wattpad)

(This ended up being more angst, then how I originally planned. But there's a happy ending and this was very fun to create hehe).

The Hanahaki is a fictional disease, in East Asian cultures where the victim coughs up flower petals, after they suffer a fate of unrequited love.

Petals drifted from her lips like confessions never spoken, delicate and heartrending. Hanahaki, they named it, a cruel symphony of love and suffering. The room held a sense of solemnity as the petals tumbled from her mouth, each one a testament to a love she had kept locked away.

In the sanctuary of her room, moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a ghostly glow on the scattered petals that adorned the floor. The scent of plum blossoms hung heavy, mingling with the memories she held close to her heart.

From a distance, she had watched him, Lan Wangji. A figure of ethereal grace and unwavering discipline. His mere presence radiated tranquility, like a moonlit night on a calm lake. Yet beneath that stoic exterior, emotions stirred, evident in the blossoms that fell from her lips.

Lan Wangji, a name that evoked reverence and longing. His dedication to the ways of the Gusu Lan sect was unyielding, but his eyes held secret emotions hidden behind the façade. The petals, a manifestation of her feelings, seemed to bridge the gap between their unspoken connection.

The moon cast its silvery light upon the courtyard, revealing his silhouette as he moved gracefully among the shadows. Lan Wangji, a master of the guqin, moved with an elegance that matched the melodies he played. Their eyes met through the window, a shared moment of unspoken understanding in the moon's gentle embrace.

Y/n found herself yearning for a deeper connection. Her heart craved his affection, his companionship. Why did fate play such a cruel hand? She had meticulously followed the thousands of rules of the sect, and treated everyone with unwavering politeness. Yet, amidst all her efforts, the one thing that remained elusive was him.

As they locked eyes in the midst of reality, y/n moved to dispel the tension, drawing the curtains closed. A weight settled in her chest, her breath quickening in unmanageable spirals. Her heart raced, an unsettling nausea consuming her. And then, as if an unrelenting echo, she vomited those enchanting yet poisonous plum blossoms. Coughs followed in rapid succession, until blood stained her cloth, a grim testament to her condition.

Y/n sought out the healers, desperation evident in her eyes, but even their wisdom couldn't unearth a solution to her affliction. Hanahaki was a rarity of a rarity—an ancient ailment with a mere 0.1% chance of occurrence. Her determination, however, remained unshaken, her resolve stronger than ever. To face this silent adversary, she chose a path of avoidance, steering clear of Lan Wangji with every ounce of her being.

"Xiao Mei!" Wei Wuxian's cheer rang out as y/n crossed paths with him.

"Wei er-gongzi!" Y/n's greeting was accompanied by a warm smile as they drew closer to each other.

"Don't be so formal!" Wei Wuxian playfully scolded, his tone light. "Remember, we're friends."

"Of course," y/n replied, chuckling softly. She covered her mouth suddenly, a fit of rapid, harsh coughs overtaking her.

"Are you all right?" Wei Wuxian's concern was evident as he reached out to touch her face, checking for any signs of distress.

Y/n managed a reassuring smile, though her coughing had left her a bit breathless. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice still carrying a touch of hoarseness.

Wei Wuxian's hand lingered on her face, his brow furrowed with worry. He gently assessed her temperature, finding it oddly normal despite her recent coughing fit.

"I know what would make you feel better!" He exclaimed, gripping her arm gently.

"Where are you taking me?" she responded, amusement tugging on her lips.

"To a-zhans!" he declared, his voice feeling with cheer and excitement.

Her face lit in horror, and quickly stopped.

"Why are you so scared?" Wei Wuxian asked as his brows furrowed in confusion "I know he can be grumpy sometimes, but he's always nice to you, and you guys are best friends!"

"It's not that," Y/n hesitated, as her voice trailed off. But as her gaze met Law Wangji who was now facing them. She quickly turned and dashed into her room, pushing the door.

Y/n could discern the shadow of sadness that crossed Lan Wangji's expression, yet she convinced herself that maintaining this distance was the wiser path. It pained her deeply, this act of pushing him away, but she couldn't bring herself to bear the weight of potential rejection and humiliation. The thought of unrequited feelings gnawed at her heart, urging her to take this route ignoring him seemed the lesser of two agonizing options. The prospect of dealing with the consequences paled in comparison to the agony of baring her unreciprocated emotions to him.

While on the way to the library, y/n found herself abruptly pressed against the wall by Lan Wangji. His arms formed a barrier, preventing any avenue of escape. Fatigue and weariness marred his countenance, the signs of exhaustion evident. Disheveled and disarrayed, his appearance was a stark contrast to his usual impeccable self, his hair unkempt, and his ribbon askew.

"Wangji, what is the meaning of this?" y/n exclaimed, her voice tinged with both fear and the pressure exerted upon her.

"You," Lan Wangji's voice emerged, a soft exhalation. "Why have you ignored me?"

"I haven't," she responded, a hint of defiance in her tone.

"What have I done to deserve this treatment? Why have you turned so distant?" Lan Wangji's voice lowered to a whisper, his confusion palpable. "I witnessed you sharing smiles with Wei Ying, yet in my presence, you flee, your expression portraying fear."

"If your heart truly belongs to Wei Wuxian, there is no need for you to conceal it," Lan Wangji's voice held a quiet conviction. "Just don't leave me again."

A wave of guilt swept over y/n as the reality of Lan Wangji's emotions settled in. Her intentions hadn't been to evoke this reaction from him, but her stubbornness had blinded her to the impact of her actions.

"Is this truly your interpretation?" y/n's laughter held a bitter edge. "You believe that I harbor feelings for Wei Wuxian?"

"Despite our shared upbringing," she continued, a touch of disbelief colouring her words, "it seems as though you know nothing about me." A hint of hysteria crept into her laughter, a poignant reminder of the irony that had woven itself into this situation.

"Then tell me!" His voice cracked with a mixture of desperation and frustration as he clutched her shoulders, tears tracing their path down his cheeks. "Tell me the reason why my closest friend has been ignoring me for weeks."

"Oh, so you're eager for the truth now?" she taunted, her tone edged with bitterness. "You, who can hardly stand up to your own uncle, yet you have the audacity to demand the truth from me?"

Her words faltered as the petals tightened their grip, the sensation almost suffocating. She pushed him away, desperation flaring as she retreated to her room, the need to release the petals becoming urgent. Once behind the closed door, she emptied herself, the blossoms and blood mingling in a haunting display of her unspoken agony. This time, it was more intense, the hue of the blood darker, marking the depth of her struggle.

Her heart raced, each beat echoing in her ears as her vision blurred. The agony coursing through her was nearly unbearable.

As the weight of her suffering intensified, she found herself struggling to remain upright. The room seemed to spin around her, and the pain was as tangible as the air she gasped for. Every heartbeat felt like a thunderous drum, each thud resonating through her weakened body.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji's determination didn't waver. With a fierce resolve, he pressed his ear to the door, straining to catch any sound from within. His own heartache mingled with worry, and a sense of helplessness gripped him. He knew something was deeply amiss, something he couldn't fully comprehend.

"Y/n!" His voice, raw and urgent, seeped through the door, carrying with it a desperate plea. "Please, let me in. I need to understand. Why are you ignoring me? Every night I wonder what I did wrong. I spent many sleepless nights thinking, where did everything go wrong. I just want my bestfriend back."

On the other side of the door, y/n fought to steady herself, the room around her threatening to dissolve into darkness. Her breathing grew ragged, and her resolve to protect him began to crumble under the weight of her own suffering. Yet, in this moment of vulnerability, her love for him remained unshaken, and it was that love that gave her the strength to respond.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the door, her fingers barely able to push it. Slowly, she pushed the door, as it revealed her disheveled figure, petals scattered at her feet. In that fleeting instant, her eyes met Lan Wangji's, and all the words that had remained unspoken seemed to hang in the air, waiting for a chance to bridge the chasm between them.

Y/n offered him a fragile smile, a glimmer of reassurance in her eyes. And then, without warning, her strength gave way, and she collapsed into his arms. Blood and petals spilled from her lips, a stark reminder of the hanahaki's cruel grip on her, and her labored breathing weighed heavily in the air.

"Y/n!" Lan Wangji's voice cracked, raw with panic and fear as he swiftly caught her, his arms encircling her limp form. "Y/n! Wake up," he implored, his voice a desperate plea, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

His arms cradled her, his fingers trembling as they brushed against her skin. Panic surged through him, a tidal wave of emotions threatening to consume his composure. Gently, he shifted her in his arms, his touch tender yet urgent, as if his very presence could summon her back to consciousness.

"Y/n," his voice was a whisper, laced with vulnerability, as he pressed his forehead against hers. "Please, open your eyes. You can't leave me like this." Every word trembled with the depth of his emotions, every syllable a plea for her to return to him.

He held her close, the petals that had once haunted her existence now scattered around them, a poignant reminder of the love he hadn't fully comprehended until this moment. In his arms, he held not just a friend, but a soul he had come to cherish a truth that had remained hidden in the silence between them.

As the seconds stretched into eternity, his heart raced, his every sense attuned to the hope of her awakening. "Y/n," he murmured once more, his voice a prayer in the quiet room, a plea for her to fight back against the darkness that threatened to steal her away.

Time seemed to stand still as Lan Wangji cradled y/n in his arms, his heart aching with a depth of emotion he had never experienced before. He could feel the weight of her frailty, the fragility of life that hung in the balance. Every rise and fall of her chest felt like a precious testament to her existence, and he held onto her as if his grip alone could keep her tethered to the realm of the living.

Desperation fueled his actions as he gently patted her cheek, his touch a mix of urgency and tenderness. "Y/n, please," he whispered, his voice cracking, "come back to me."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy with anticipation, as Lan Wangji's pleas hung in the air like a fragile melody. And then, after what felt like an eternity, a faint flutter of eyelids stirred. Y/n's eyelashes trembled, and her eyes slowly opened, her gaze meeting Lan Wangji's with a mixture of confusion and recognition.

"Lan Wangji?" Her voice was a whisper, barely audible, as if she were emerging from a dream.

Relief washed over him in a powerful surge. "Y/n," he breathed her name, his grip on her tightening almost instinctively. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you share your feelings with me?"

A weak smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she attempted to speak, though her voice was strained. "I... I'm sorry, Wangji."

The weight of her apology hung in the air, the unspoken truths between them finally laid bare. Lan Wangji's gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle. "You don't have to apologize, y/n. I wish you'd have confided in me sooner, but I understand why you kept this hidden."

Y/n's eyes shimmered with emotion as she looked up at him, her vulnerability mirrored in his own eyes. "I was afraid," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Afraid of losing our friendship, of facing rejection and humiliation."

Lan Wangji's thumb caressed her cheek, his touch a soothing balm against her doubts. "Y/n, you mean the world to me. Our friendship is invaluable, but if there's a chance for more, I want to take it. I want to explore these feelings with you."

Tears welled in her eyes as his words reached her heart, erasing the fears that had held her captive. "Wangji," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and affection.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a tender, chaste kiss. "Rest now, y/n. We have time to heal and to discover what lies ahead for us."

As the room bathed in the soft light of their shared understanding, they clung to each other, a promise of a future woven from the threads of their unspoken love. The journey ahead wouldn't be without challenges, but they faced it together, united by the bond that had weathered the storm of pain and petals.

#mdzs x reader #mdzs #lan wangji #lan Zhan x reader #x reader #the untamed x reader #reader insert mdzs #the untamed #the untamed one shots #mo dao zu shi x reader #mdzs oneshots #lan wangji x reader #lan zhan #lan wangji x female reader #lan zhan x female reader

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ao3feed-liushen · 10 months

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Like cherry blossoms in the rain

read it on the AO3 here

by Cesela

Shen Yuan has always known that if he was a character in a novel he would only be described as #5 stranger on the street in the credits. In this world some people cough up flowers, but the only thing he will ever cough up is blood.

Hanahaki AU.

Words: 11866, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Liǔ Qīnggē, Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū, Original Luò Bīnghé, Luò Bīnghé, Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū

Relationships: Liǔ Qīnggē/Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū, Original Luò Bīnghé/Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū

Additional Tags: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sick Character

read it on the AO3 here

#svsss #liushen #liu qingge #shen qingqiu #scum villain's self-saving system #ao3feed #人渣反派自救系统

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iwannawritelots · 2 years

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Pride’s Price to Pay

Originally written October 2021

Masterlist

Genre: angst

Ship(s): Lucifer X MC

(genderless MC)

(requested)

Trigger/content warnings: blood

Headcanons/notes from the author: reading it over, the ending is like, super abrupt. I might rewrite this but tbh I’ve been tempted to write hanahaki fics for the babes having them recently… ANYWAYS besides the abrupt ending I think it holds up okay. No before-the-cut paragraph since it goes straight into the blood.

Brief Blurb: MC ends up with hanahaki due to Lucifer seemingly not loving them.

You hadn't given the sudden cough much thought until you were leaned over the sink, blood splattered against the porcelain. This itself was already weird, but then you realized something strange was sitting in a crook of your mouth. Slowly, you used your tongue to force it to your lips, then spat once again. In the bloody sink laid a small cherry blossom petal, which itself was coated with blood. You stared at it in bewilderment, and it seemed to return your gaze. For a moment you thought maybe you had somehow inhaled one of the petals Asmo put in his baths, but those were rose petals, weren't they?

You decided to ignore it for now. It was probably just an odd occurrence, which happened a lot since you came to the Devildom. Making your way back to bed, you opened up your D.D.D. to check if Lucifer had responded to your texts... but no, he hadn't. It had been like this for a week. You coughed as you got into bed, just swallowing the blood that rose into your mouth. Hopefully when you woke up, it would be gone.

;

Three more days had passed, and the situation had only gotten worse. Lucifer blatantly ignored you, even when you tried to speak to him. The most you could get him to respond with were small annoyed grunts or one word responses. It hurt to just watch him walk away, and every time he did, you began to cough up petals.

This time, however, Asmodeus saw you run to the bathroom in a coughing fit. He quickly followed and gasped when he saw petals in the sink. "_____! Who is it?" he demanded, coming to your side and rubbing your back. You spat out a few petals, then furrowed your eyebrows at him. "Who is it? Tell me."

"The fuck are you talking about, Asmo?" you grumbled, wiping your mouth.

"You have Hanahaki." Asmodeus' eyes welled up. "Who are you in love with?"

Face heating up, you told him, "I don't understand what you're talking about. I'm going to bed."

He grabbed your arm. "No! You're coming with me." You allowed him to pull you to Satan's room, where he sat you in a corner before searching through the books. "I can't believe you didn't tell anyone you have Hanahaki, _____."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's a disease of unrequited love." Asmodeus traced the spines of the books on a medical shelf, then pulled out a worn hardback book. "It should be in this book."

"How do you know?"

He froze for a moment, then shook his head. "Not important right now. Just read this." He handed you the book, opened to a pair of pages about Hanahaki. You read for a while, managing to not get distracted by Asmo's panicked pacing around the room.

"Well, this does explain a lot..." you muttered, putting the book down in your lap. "It doesn't change anything though."

"We need to get you better, which means..." Asmo ran his fingers through his hair, stressed. "You need to tell me who it is."

Suddenly feeling rather ridiculous, you muttered, "Lucifer."

"Lucifer? How could you even perceive him as not requiting your love?" Asmo rubbed his temples and wiggled his nose. "You're going to make my skin age. I don't even know what to do with you." Not sure what he was going on about, you stared at him. He facepalmed and kneeled down in front of you. "You need to tell him how you feel."

Sighing, you told him, "I'm pretty sure he hates me. He's been ignoring me..."

"Okay, you are both stupid." Asmo dramatically put the back of his hand on his forehead, then leaned away. "I can't take this! Just cooperate, would you?"

"Okay, okay..."

;

The next morning, you were coughing so much you woke up everyone else in the House of Lamentation. You couldn't even make it to the restroom, instead expelling blood and flower petals all over your bed. Six of the demon brothers were all hurrying into your room, pajamas on and eyes tired. "Yo, _____, are you okay?" asked Mammon, yawning into his hand. "You woke everyone up, even Belphie..."

You were about to respond, but the fact that Lucifer wasn't even bothering to check on you made your heart twist. A violent coughing fit began once again, and tears rolled down your cheeks as you began to panic about his lack of presence. "L-Luci..."

Asmo produced a scowl, then shoved through his brothers and left the room. You felt much lonelier as soon as he was out of sight, since he was the only one aware of what was happening to you. The other brothers came to your side, all causing commotion in their worry and confusion. If you weren't focused on breathing through the coughing fit, you would have appreciated their concern.

Just as your coughs were getting worse and petals were caught in your throat, Lucifer was pushed into the room by Asmo, who had shifted into his demon form in order to gather more strength. "I don't care what your problem is, Lucifer! Stop ignoring _____!"

You weakly reached at Lucifer, spluttering blood and petals. The avatar of pride seemed horrified, slowly walking towards you and shaking. "_____, what happened?"

Despite searing pain in your throat, you grabbed Lucifer's hands and yanked him closer. He took his hands away and ran his hands along your cheeks, cupping them and crying. "I-I..." you wheezed and coughed into your lap. "I... I-I love you, Lucifer..."

"Darling, I love you too, but we need to get you medical attention."

A sudden tranquility washed over you once he said that. The coughing began to lessen as you burrowed into his stomach, exhausted. "I-I love you..."

"I love you too..." he cooed, rubbing his thumbs over your tears. "I love you so much, I'm so sorry I ignored you..." He kissed your head and hugged you close. "Let's get you some help, okay?"

"Okay..."

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ao3feed-matchablossom · 2 years

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they say loves a blessing (but I've seen it so cursed)

by broogann

At 6 years old if you asked Kojiro Nanjo who Kaoru was to him, he would have grabbed his best friend's hand and without knowing the weight of his words declared to the whole playground: “Kaoru is my best friend and when we are big we’re going to get married!” At 17 years old if you asked Kojiro that same question, he’d wince as he watched the boy he loved fall for someone else. At 26 he wouldn't be able to answer, the thought of his love for Kaoru clogging his throat with flowers born from unrequited love.

Words: 1449, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Fandoms: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe, Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom, Higa Hiromi | Shadow, Shindo Ainosuke | Adam, small appearances by other characters

Additional Tags: Hanahaki Disease, Unrequited Love, Blood and Gore, Vomiting, lots of pep talks from Hiromi, Good Friend Higa Hiromi | Shadow, Skateboarding, Flashbacks, DK Era, Sia La Luce (SK8 the Infinity), Original Character(s), in the form of Kojiro's fangirls, Past Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam, Pining, Hiding Medical Issues, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42067464

#IFTTT #fanfic #ao3feed #matcha blossom #ao3feed-matchablossom #sk8 the infinity #sk8 joe #sk8 cherry

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ao3feed-renga · 2 years

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Flower bloom

by kishipop

Reki's had the biggest crush on Langa ever since they met. However, Reki feels his world shatter when a new student transferred to their school. Langa seems have taken a liken to him and wants him to join their little sk8 group. How will Reki feel about this? And why does he have this weird painful feeling in his chest lately?

Words: 808, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Kyan Reki, Hasegawa Langa, Original Characters, Chinen Miya, Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe, Higa Hiromi | Shadow

Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom

Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Poor Reki, Hanahaki Disease, Blood and Violence, Honestly don't even know what I'm doing

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38670570

#renga #langa #hasegawa langa #reki #kyan reki #sk8theinfinity #sk8 #ao3feed #ao3 #archiveofo

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sevlgi · 3 years

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the florist

requested: no

group: dreamcatcher

pairing: jiu x fem!reader

genre: angst, questionable fluff

contents: hanahaki!au, florist!jiu

warnings: death

synopsis: When you find a beautiful death sentence clustered in your lungs, you can only visit the legendary florist. But is JiU herself as strong as she seems?

a/n: hiatus who? we don’t know her 🤡 i was actually gonna post this when it struck 12 on december 1st for me, but tumblr’s telling me it’s already december, so here we go!

word count: 3.3k

In all the years that the Hanahaki Disease had existed, there had never been a cure. And on the day that you coughed up the first blood-stained carnation, it became certain that you weren’t about to be the one to break the record.

You considered yourself to be decently cautious about the disease. After all, since you were a child, the only love lesson that you had ever been taught was to never, ever, be the first one in love. Your mother drilled that lesson, telling you that love was a poisonous thing to be avoided at all costs until you believed her.

And yet, you were stupid enough to allow her to wreck you, to allow yourself to become consumed by her.

It was unexpected, to say the least. Lee Siyeon had been a close friend for years, the two of you meeting during college, and she had been in love with someone else since then. You knew Bora well too, actually, and had always rooted for the two to get together.

Had it been anyone else, you would’ve still held the hope that your love could be returned, but Siyeon despised you with all the might of her soul ever since she had found out about the yellow petals floating in the toilet bowl at midnight. Had it been anyone else, you wouldn’t have faced the sheer mortification of begging Gahyeon for the address of the person who saved her.

“Y/N...” she had hesitated when you asked her. Siyeon’s younger sister was the only person that you knew of who had survived the disease without getting the dreaded surgery, but she was incredibly touchy about the subject. Indeed, you didn’t even know who she had fallen in love with so many years ago.

“Please, Gahyeon,” you begged, chasing to maintain eye contact with her. “I can’t die like this. You-- you won’t let me, will you? Not when it’s your sister.”

You didn’t want to guilt-trip her like you did, but it worked. Gahyeon texted you an address and a name, the ping noise of the notification sounding more like your saving grace than anything. “You can’t tell anyone else once you’re healed,” she warned. “She’ll know who you are as soon as you say my name.”

To outside eyes, the Love Blossom looked like a normal flower shop. The narrow storefront, sandwiched between a coffee shop and a bookstore, was painted a faint pink and chipped with green on some edges. There were flowers stuffed everywhere you could see-- exploding baskets on the windowsills, colorful wreaths hung everywhere, even a huge L and B made of blooms on the window.

Even when you pushed the door open, it gave no indication of being anything other than a flower shop. The scent of flowers was heavy, some rock song playing from the peppy pink speakers dangling from the ceilings. “Hello?” you called out, hands tightening on the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder. “H-”

Suddenly, you coughed out again and held your sleeve up to prevent any flower petals from fluttering out; the constant itch in your throat only served to make you more anxious to find the florist that Gahyeon had referred you to. “Is anyone there?”

“Hi!” You yelped and jumped back when an invisible door just next to you randomly opened, the shelf concealing it nearly colliding with your face. “Oh, I’m sorry! Were you looking for me?”

The girl who opened the door looked like the literal manifestation of sunshine; her smile took up half her face, the brown of her half-moon eyes seemingly lit from within. She balanced a flowerpot on her hip as she bowed to you in apology, long hair almost sweeping the floor. “Are- are you JiU?”

“Yep!” She moved to set the pot down, cocking her head slightly to take you in. “How can I help you today?”

“I... I’m a friend of Gahyeon,” you explained, watching as the smile on her face lessened slightly in understanding. You fished out the plastic bag from your purse, the almost-dry crimson inside overpowering the yellow petals. “Can you help me?”

The brunette accepted the bag, flashing you another bright smile as she opened the secret door again. “Well, let’s take a look. Follow me, please, and call me Minji.”

The narrow doorway led to what seemed to be her living quarters, or maybe an apothecary; the walls were almost completely covered by the forest-green painted shelves lining them, mismatched books and trinkets filling the spaces. Incredibly detailed drawings were tacked everywhere, a ladder folded behind the hidden door, presumably to access the blank walls up near the ceiling. A loft area was most likely where she slept, though she led you to a large and cluttered desk to examine the flowers you had given her.

“Yellow carnations. These symbol rejection and disdain, you know.”

You winced at the girl’s bluntness, though it wasn’t meant as a jab, still staring at the multitudes of drawings tacked everywhere. “Yeah, I know. Gahyeon told me.”

She smiled at the mention of the younger girl, setting the bag with your blood down to fiddle with a notebook. “I taught her well, then.”

“Taught her?” You watched her shift jars of petals around on the shelves, scribbling something down on a sheet of ironically pink and cutesy paper. “I thought you healed her.”

“Well, the Hanahaki disease doesn’t heal easily,” Minji responded, gesturing for you to follow her into a tiny kitchen area. “It took months, actually, and she spent almost every day in here. She might as well have become an apprentice, with how much I taught her.”

“Months?” Fear rose up in you at that, apparently not affecting the other girl as she hummed. You’d been in one of the later stages for a good couple of months now, though you couldn’t tell which one without visiting a doctor. “Minji, I don’t have months.”

She raised an eyebrow at you, tying the strings of her apron behind her. “Well, are you willing to get the surgery? Spend thousands of dollars and go through such a rigorous process, and then be left with a cold heart and unhealable scars?” At your silence, she chuckled, tying her hair up in a plait. “That’s what I thought.”

You sat on the stool at her kitchen table, watching Minji busy herself at what looked like a stovetop, albeit littered with glass bottles and half-hearted bouquets. “What makes you certain that this’ll work, then? How’d you even learn to help people like me?”

Minji bit down on her lower lip, the dark red color remarkably not transferring onto her pearly teeth. “Well. My mother died from the disease, so I was originally going to study it in school. But I had to help Gahyeon somehow. When she fell in love with someone who’d never love her back... I couldn’t just watch her die.”

Smiling slightly, you watched her scatter the same petals as you had coughed up into a pot, freshly plucked from stems that she threw onto the counter next to her. “What about you? What’s the story behind “rejection and disdain”?” she asked suddenly, smiling prettily. Something about her was a bit ethereal in the kitchen’s LED lighting, though maybe it was the fact that she was literally saving people that doctors couldn’t.

“Ah. I fell in love with Siyeon,” you answered, placing your hand into your chin as you watched her work. “She loves someone else, and I got between them. It’s not her fault.”

Frowning, Minji uncapped a jar that smelled strongly of rose, practically upending it in her pot. “Gahyeon’s sister? Does she know that you’re going to die because of her? I’ve met her before, and I didn’t think she’d be so cruel. ”

You nodded silently at that. The whole reason you were in such a predicament was that you loved Siyeon and she hated you; there was no way you were going to ask her to turn her entire heart on its head just to save you. It was unlikely that she’d want to do so at all, anyway. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” the brunette sighed sympathetically. “Love really hurts sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you smiled drily. “It’s just all too literal for me.”

“Hey, Minji!”

The girl turned from her flowers to wave excitedly at you, her smile painted bubblegum pink this time to match the faded apron she wore. She held trimmers in her hands, clumsy with the thick gloves she wore. “Y/N! Good to see you again, come in?”

“Yeah.” You smiled just seeing the interior of the shop, as decked-out as it had been in your first visit. Instead of the purple theme last week, Minji seemed to have gone with yellows, the peonies and roses tainting the cold air. The apartment, however, looked the same, almost comforting in its maximalism. “I’m done with the vials,” you mentioned, taking the freshly-washed glass bottles out of your bag along with a fresh bag of bloody flowers.

“Did they help?” Minji asked, accepting both with a quiet “thank you”. “Gahyeonie always told me that they taste terrible, but sugar cancels out all the good properties.”

“They aren’t that bad,” you lied, sitting down at the same spot in the kitchen and opening your bag. At her questioning look, you explained, “Oh, I thought I’d bring my laptop this time and keep you company. You said you were bored last time...”

Part of you wished she would turn you away, just so that you wouldn’t become attacked to someone who’d eventually leave you behind too. But she smiled, turning on her stove and hefting the same ceramic pot on as she did the last time. “That’s perfect, Y/N. When you’re done, you can come help package some bouquets for a break, okay?”

You nodded, sighing in content at the smell of flower petals boiling once again in the shop. “Okay. Thanks, Minji.”

“No need to thank me,” she replied, turning back to the ingredients that she fiddled with. “No need to thank me at all. How’s Siyeon?”

Shrugging, you swept some papers off the table to place your laptop down. “I don’t really know. She doesn’t talk to me. I only have contact with her through Gahyeon now, but it’s not really like I want to talk to the person killing me.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say “killing”,” Minji pouted, teasing you with a long flower stem. “It makes me think that you don’t believe you’ll live.”

“No, I trust you, I--” You stopped in your tracks when you realized that the other girl was joking, rolling your eyes before turning back to your computer. “Real funny, Minji.”

She giggled, placing a mug of coffee on the table beside you. “I like to think I am. You can call me Minji, by the way. Only customers call me Minji.”

Instead of responding, you sipped at your coffee, falling into a comfortable silence once the florist turned back to her stove. With the cool fall sunlight streaming in through the window and the heavenly aroma inside the kitchen, you suddenly thought that you could get used to a scene like this. More than that-- you liked it.

A good 4 weeks passed without incident. Your weekly visits were always filled with musical laughter and pretty grins whirling by in an instant. Minji only looked more beautiful each time, the pain in your chest somehow lessening each time you saw her wave to you with all the enthusiasm that Siyeon lacked. Part of you wondered whether the bitter concoctions that Minji had you drink were the thing at work at all, but you continued to take them, and you continued to improve.

Of course, everything good had to come to an end.

“Y/N,” Minji gasped as she kneeled next to you, hands hovering over your body as you hacked again, red dribbling from your lips to the floor. Your fingers curled weakly around your phone, tears escaping your eyes with how hard you squeezed them shut. “Gahyeon called me, what happened to you?”

With the clusters of carnations fluttering in your lungs with every breath you took, you weren’t able to respond. The other girl seemed to realize that, digging through her bag for something. Before she could take anything out, though, you wheezed for air again, throat swollen to the point of suffocation.

She acted quick, turning you onto your side to let full blossoms slip from between your lips. The yellow blooms were dauntingly bright against the dark wood, almost a serene picture if not for the violent crimson staining the petals. Tipping a vial of golden orange into your mouth, Minji ordered, “Swallow. Come on, you can do it.”

As soon as the poppy syrup was gone, your eyes fluttered shut and you slumped against your arm, breathing rattled but steady. Sighing, the brunette wiped a remaining petal from your lips, sliding her hands below your knees and your neck to pick you up. “You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

When the sun began shining unbridled through the cracked curtains of your bedroom, you woke from the longest sleep since you started choking at night. Someone had taken the liberty of folding the clothes scattered across your chair, as well as placing your fully charged phone, a purple-colored glass of liquid, and a note by your side.

Y/N,

I have to go back to the shop, but Gahyeon or I’ll stop by later today to bring you some more medicine. Next time, call me first!

xx,

Kim Minji

There was a ridiculous smile on your lips just holding a pink piece of paper imprinted with the girl’s kiss in lipstick, as well as a remarkable lack of flowers in your lungs. Indeed, you couldn’t taste copper coating your tongue, or feel petals stuck to the back of your throat, and it felt even better than you had remembered.

When you checked your phone, you realized that a certain contact was missing, A phone number that you had long since given up on contacting. There was a gap in your carefully curated picture gallery, Siyeon’s pictures with you taken off your wall, too. In their places were various pictures of Minji and Gahyeon, sometimes together and sometimes apart. In one of the selfies, you noted with a grin that someone had scribbled a Sharpie mustache over Minji’s face.

Since when had the florist replaced her in your life, and since when were you absolutely okay with that?

Minji smiled as soon as she noticed that the door to the Love Blossom was already open, the lights on inside the shop and some sweet smell wafting out. You hadn’t talked about the time she saved you in your apartment, but ever since then, the florist had noted that you were opening up more. You were happier, more willing to crack jokes and visit her on your own accord. “Y/N, is that you?”

“Morning, Minji!” you answered, spinning out of the apartment with a grin. The apron that Minji usually wore to make her syrups was tied around your waist, the faint pink of it white with flour. You held the door open for her and moved to take her jacket off for her, a gorgeous smile on your face as you did. “I let myself in early to make you some bread, I hope you don’t mind!”

“I never mind bread,” the brunette laughed, her heart already warm when she inhaled honeyed air. “Today isn’t a checkup day, though? You stopped by 3 days ago, did you run out of syrup or something?”

You pouted, in a remarkably good mood as you twirled around the kitchen. The counter was finally free of flowers and glass vials, replaced instead by a huge bag of flour and trays of golden-brown pastries. Minji didn’t remember having those supplies, but she wouldn’t put it past you to restock her kitchen just for fun while she visited her friends. “What, I can’t come and see my friends? I’m off work today, so I thought I could bake for you and learn about your bouquet orders.”

Sighing in false exasperation, Minji patted you on the head and tied her hair up to start working, flipping the sign on the door to read “OPEN”. “Of course you can come and see me whenever you want, it’s just rare that you come by like this.”

“I guess we’ll have to change that then,” you shrugged, plopping three pastries on a plate for the other girl. The kitchen looked like a completely different place without the usual bloody petals scattered all over the place, and to be honest, Minji loved the change. For once, she wasn’t in charge of saving your life-- she was just a florist, and she was just your friend.

There was no way she could keep the smile off her face, not when you sang exaggeratedly into a filling spoon, and not when you baked all the things she mentioned that she liked.

Something felt tight in her chest when she inhaled air perfumed by butter and roses, but Minji could only smile. For you.

The next time you baked for her was bittersweet. Once again, you were already in the apartment when Minji came back from her morning visit.

“I’m healed,” you sobbed as you catapulted into her arms, a slight poof of flour exploding when your chest met hers. Minji stood still in shock, hands resting softly on the small of your back as you cried, “Minji, I’m healed. You saved me.”

“For real?” she whispered, pulling back to cup your face in your hands. You nodded tearily, makeup-tinted tears mixing with flour as the other girl hugged you again, something clogging up her throat as she tried to breathe. “I... I’m so happy for you.”

You grinned despite your tears as you brought a cake out of the fridge, the pretty lavenders and blues of the frosting somehow reminding Minji of a goodbye. She turned out to be right. “They’re forget-me-nots,” you explained when you gestured to the pretty piped flowers on the cake. “Um, so you don’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you,” Minji blurted, feeling a sting at her own nose. “Come back sometime, okay, Y/N? You don’t forget me either, got it?”

“I won’t.” Despite all the sincerity in your gaze, your promise was hollow to the florist’s ears. You were already tugging on your jacket again, leaving her standing in the middle of an all-too-clean kitchen with a beautiful cake in her hands. “I’m sorry, Minji, I have to get back to work. But I’ll be back soon,” you smiled, watching her carefully for a reaction.

Minji nodded, knees almost trembling as she watched you turn back to wave one last time. “Okay.”

As soon as the glass door slammed again, she rushed to place the cake down, tucking her face into the crook of her elbow as she was hit with yet another uncontrollable fit of coughing. She crouched, free hand gripping tight on the legs of the table near her to steady herself as flower petals dotted with red fluttered softly onto the ground.

“Mallow,” she recognized as she scrambled to pick up the purple-veined blooms, vomiting out yet another. “Mallow...”

Scooting back so that her back could hit the kitchen cabinets, Minji watched the candles atop the cake burn out, blood dripping from her lips onto the pale fabric of her sweater. She didn’t care, though, as she stopped a shallow breath from escaping, finally remembering the meanings of the flowers in her shaking hands.

“Consumed by love.”

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 3 years

Note

can I ask for number 6 (sfw) with leona please? thanks~

Why yes you may. So.... this turned into a short fic because I’ve been wanting to write a Hanahaki disease troupe for a while now. It also ended up a lot more ansgty than I had intended when I originally wrote up the prompt, but oh well, it happens. I hope you like this despite Leona being a little bit OC towards the end. Nonetheless enjoy!

Warnings/Tags: Blood, disease, pain, angst, maybe a smidgen of comfort at the end, death, unrequited love, requited love, Hanahaki disease troupe with my own spin, the ending is sappy just so you know

Pain blossomed in your chest as you rounded the corner. An itchy feeling in your throat turned into a burn, prompting you to rush past the other students in the hall and push your way into the nearest bathroom. Coughs wracked your body and forced dark pink petals splattered with blood up your throat.

It was unclear how long it took you to finally settle down from the coughing fit. This had been happening for months. Starting with simple coughs and the occasional petal had turned into painful fits where you choked on the amount of petals and blood that made its way out from your throat. It was a horrible thing and you knew what it was and how to get rid of it. The only problem was that no one in this place knew how or even what it was.

You were about to get up when you were suddenly forced into another fit of coughs. This one was more violent and painful. Tears streamed from your closed eyes and you gripped the edge of the toilet harshly. It’s almost over. It’s almost over. It’s almost over. It’s almost over.

Once the hacking had stopped you panted for breath and gazed into the bloodied toilet. A sinking feeling filled you when you saw a flower. An entire flower the color crimson. Your time was nearly up and you could feel it. You could feel thorns spreading out from your lungs and pricking their walls. Soon they would puncture and you would cough until there was no air left to cough up.

“Um… is coughing up flowers normal where you come from?” You jerked and winced as the stabbing sensation got worse. Turning you spotted Leona leaning against the inside of the stall wall and realized you must have forgotten to close the door in your haste. Another spike of pain burned your lungs as the thorns grew just from Leona’s close proximity.

If you hadn’t shut your eyes you would have seen the demi lion flinch and concern pass through his eyes. You breathed shallowly and coughed again before shifting into a sitting position.

“No it’s not. Well sort of.” you panted and Leona raised an eyebrow. “It’s called Hanahaki disease. Where I come from it stems from unrequited love.” At that the mage looked at you in disbelief and crossed his arms. You continued despite his obvious suspicions.

“When you first get it, you cough a lot and sometimes spit up little yellow petals. Gradually as time goes on and the disease gets worse the petals turn pink and then darker as you cough up more of them. Eventually you cough up your first full flower, which is always the color of blood. It means that…” You paused and looked up at Leona with tearful eyes.

You didn’t want to say it out loud. It would only make it more real, but if there was anything you learned from having Hanahaki disease, it’s that it is very real and very painful. Maybe if it had been someone else who had found you then you would have been able to explain it fully but Leona was the last person you wanted to explain your condition to. The lion man grew impatient and gestured for you to go on. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to speak the words.

“When you cough up your first flower it means that the thorns have nearly punctured your lungs and within the day you will die.” Silence was what met you first, but you watched as Leona’s eyes flickered from you to the toilet bowl full of petals and blood. And directly in the middle of it lay a crimson flower, bloomed straight from your pain.

He was quiet for a long time before he looked at you again and frowned.

“How do you fix it?”

“You can’t. At least not here. There are two ways for Hanahaki disease to be cured. A: the more favorable option. To have the person change their mind and decide to love you, that or they loved you all along and you just never knew about it. B: the more painful option and one I would turn to if it were a service offered here, surgery.”

“Surgery?” Leona asked with a confused expression.

“Surgery,” you wheezed, “where they remove the flowers and thorns from your lungs. Except it only works if you take the seed out as well. If you don’t remove the seed the flowers will just regrow overnight. A lot of people don’t turn to this option until the very last minute because removing the seed means removing your ability to feel anything. All of your emotions are tied to that seed and without it a person will live a life of numbness.”

The look on Leona’s face morphed from confusion to shock and then back to confusion.

“Hanahaki disease doesn’t exist here so they don’t have the surgery option which likely means that the people here aren’t born with seeds.” You spoke, sensing his thoughts. He looked down at you and scrunched his eyebrows together.

“So who’s your unrequited lover?”

You froze and looked back into the toilet. Another fit of coughing sprung from your chest and left you heaving for air through the flowers that clogged your lungs and throat. Distantly you felt Leona’s hand on your back before it disappeared and his footsteps made their way away from you.

Tears slid down your face and plopped into the bloody water beneath you. Oh if only he had loved me.

----------

Only a few hours had passed since your arrival in the nurses wing. Yet the elderly woman who looked over the health of her students stood sadly against the wall near her door, waiting to deliver grim news to all who came her way.

Leona, who had already figured out what happened, stayed slumped against the opposite wall. His mind raced to process the situation. Everything had happened so quickly, it seemed like only minutes ago he walked in on your coughing and decided to tease you about your frail herbivore body getting sick. Then you had told him about your condition and the sight of you, weak, and trembling next to a toilet filled with evidence of your nearing doom had made him sick with this emotion he wasn’t used to feeling. He had run to get help when he realized that he could offer none, but a part of him wished he had stayed when he and the nurse returned to find you slumped, unconscious against the wall, blood staining your lips and tear streams lining your cheeks.

The lion growled in frustration at the recent memory and pushed himself off the wall. The nurse didn’t stop him when he entered the room you were being kept in. Soon they would move you to a better spot where you could be prepped for a funeral. The thought filled his mouth with a bad taste so he elected to ignore it as he sat beside your far too still body.

A sigh left him as he felt that emotion rise in his chest once again. He snarled as if he could scare it away but interrupting the silence in the room only made him feel worse.

How had no one else noticed sooner. Perhaps then they could have found a way to save you. Leona looked over at your pale face and frowned. It was weird not having you there. He supposed you would have had to leave for your own world anyway but this was different. This was a very permanent and sudden goodbye. The kind no one ever wants to experience.

Another sigh left his lips as he ran a hand over your forehead and pushed your hair back. Even in death you were beautiful. His hand made its way down to your chest where he let it hover for a moment before pressing down in hopes that he could find any sort of beat at all. There was none. However he did feel something strange underneath your clothes and skin.

Glancing back towards the door, Leona carefully undid the top part of your shirt and spread it aside so he could examine your chest area. What he saw had him retracting his hands very quickly and flinching backwards.

Underneath your skin vines wriggled and moved as they broke free from your lungs and wound their way through the other parts of your body. The tip of a thorn broke through the surface of your skin and dragged it’s way across your chest making odd jerks and turns. As horrified as he was, Leona leaned forward and watched as the thorn carved a word into your flesh. He watched carefully as it retreated back into its spot in your body and he felt his blood run cold.

Leona Kingscholar. The word was his name. Then it hit him. The unrequited love had been him. This whole time you had been suffering because of him. And now you were dead because of it.

Sobs forced their way out of his throat and he gripped your arm tightly whispering that he had changed his mind. You could come back now because he had cured you. You were alright because he loved you.

None of his pleas did anything to bring you back, and eventually when the headmaster and your other friends arrived, Leona excused himself to run back to his room in Savanaclaw.

---------

Leona rolled over and sighed, breathing in deeply to inhale the scent of the flowers that hung overhead. They smelled like you and their petals, once a horrific shade of red, now the same color as your eyes.

The lion yawned and smiled up at your flowers before patting the earth beneath him with his tail. He had cured you by being in love with you, and although that had not saved you from the thorns that terrorised your lungs, it had gotten rid of them and allowed you to sprout beautiful flowers that reminded him of you.

Just beneath the soil, your body lay decomposed into more rich minerals for the earth. Your heart however had transformed into the seed of the loveliest flowers Leona had ever seen. The disease that had taken you from him also gifted him with a plant of great beauty.

He lay underneath your flowers everyday and let their scent lull him to sleep. And occasionally if he listened very closely to the earth beneath him, he could almost hear the sound of your heart still beating. Beating because you were in love.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader #twst leona x reader #oneshot #hanahaki #25daysofprompts #leona kingscholar x reader

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yuonsan · 3 years

Text

「blossoms in your casket」

花びらを覆う血

．。heavy themes, explicit language, blood, gore, body horror, unrequited love, platonic love, implied death, oc death, game mechanics, non-canon。．

．。架空の病気。．

Hurting inside, sequestering away from the rest of the world

A touch and you unravel like silk ribbons

Nearly unconscious, breathing in septic air, exhaling petals

A bouquet of snow flowers in your lungs, tainted with your blood

Hurting like the world has collapsed on you, coughing out sanity

Alone when you’re with everyone, a cloud of friends and strangers

Kept for yourself, the burden that is dragging you downwards

Is death better than life without feeling, meaning?

．。つぼみで私を殺す。．

The flowers, that grew in their lungs were asphyxiating, intoxicating and above all excruciating. Their chest heaved agonizingly with every breath that left their lungs, squeezing their ribs with enough force to bend them backwards. Blood, red as wine, would emerge from their mouth and drip down their chin, staining their clothes in the process.

At first, only a few petals would surface, though as time meaninglessly passed for the immortal twin, the seeds that borrowed in their lungs grew within time too. Soon enough, fully bloomed flowers accompanied with their stems, would leave their lungs, each one more painful than the other. Although, as unfortunate as they were, they never seized to be bewitching.

Although that was before, an unknown god had decided to take their wrath upon the twins and swore to eradicate mankind, stripping them of their powers and separating them from eachother. And so, the sickly twin of the duo was casted into a deep slumber where the sea salt waves and golden sand acted as their company, with the indigo sky as their blanket for the decades that were to come.

。．{☆}．。

And even if the lonely twin was deeply slumbering for decades, their dreams were nothing but filled with agony and terror. The unknown deity, would still plague the golden haired child until their face was imprinted on the child’s mind. Never leaving them, always haunting them till it was time they woke up.

。．{☆}．。

Upon waking up, the flowers & petals, the sickly being awaited for did not resurface. Not for a while, as they were in a daze and their memories all fuzzy and foggy. Faceless faces, only waited them in their dreams with no data or recollection of them, for a while, that is. They were bound to remember, it was both a curse and gift, while everyone around them forgot with time, they along with their kin, could recall the events that had been buried underneath soil and stone, as if it happened mere minutes ago.

。．{☆}．。

As weeks passed, the memories, returned too. It was sudden, unexpected and painful. As more memories seeped into their brain, the intense pain amplified by tenfold. At the end, they were left on the ground, as their knees dug into the ground while their hands clutched their head, in a fruitless attempt to ease the pain. Their mind was left hazy and disoriented.

Before the traveler could catch their breath, sickening coughs replaced their breaths. They were wet, as if they were drowning and were desperately trying to rise to the surface. Alas, ichor started to flow from their pleura, discoloring the golden sand to scarlet. Immense dosses of blood were emitted from the young child, sizeable enough to be fatal for mortal beings.

Plasma was not the only thing discarded into sand, within the blood were flowers. However, they weren’t efflorescence nor well-formed. Instead, in their place were shriveled up and pale buds.

Once they were magnificent blossoms, yet now they were decayed & colourless. Though the golden eyed child, deemed that that it graced them quite well, and were a representation of their circumstances. Unsightly, they looked to some, though not the otherworldly being, who decided to take one of the decaying florets that where coated with scarlet blood, and twirl it in their hand, unbothered if the vital substance blemished their already gory attire.

Their aureate oculus, were obscured with melancholia and yearning, as they observed the shoreline.

。．{☆}・。

Two twins with faraway clothing & features foreign, were strolling through a meadow full of carnations, both the children and the flowers looked as delightful as ever. Untouched by the cruelty of life, as they took leisure in this pasture. The heavens were a seraphic saxe, while the sound of giggling could be heard in the paddock. Although it sounded young, airy and carefree— another sound of laughter joined in, it belonged to an adult because of the hoarse but soft tune. The twitters, shrieks as well as chuckles only escalated.

Merriment graced the estate, a blissful atmosphere suited for this faultless grassland, which no ephemeral being could even try to enter.

Only benevolent hands, and tender touches were used, to handle the saint-like twins. Not even a flicker of roughness were inflicted upon them. The grown-up looked at them with optics full of warmth, goodwill and care. Not a hint of malice hiding in the corners of those kindliness orbs. Such consecrated beings, without the blessing of a perpetual existence were bound to meet their demise. Impermanent beings were imprisoned by the law of time.

。．{☆}・。

The flowerets that grew in their lungs, are now like them. Sickly, decaying & ruined even more with every decade that passes. However to them, they will always remain delightful, for they were their favorite flowers, so many centuries ago. They always favored carnations above all other flowers for their meanings. So, the time traveling being wonders if they would like, the carnations they cough up from their lungs too.

。．{☆}・。

Carnation Story and Origins

Carnations are also called pinks because of their spiky petals that look like they were cut with pinking shears. There are several theories about how the carnation got its name. Some believe that it comes from the word coronation because it was used in Greek ceremonial crowns. Others think that it originated from the Latin word carnis, meaning flesh, because early carnations were typically pink.

Carnations scientific name is Dianthus caryophyllus. Some believe the name Dianthus originated from the myth of Diana. There are a few variations of this story. In one variation Diana, goddess of the hunt, was returning from an unsuccessful hunting trip. She stumbled upon a shepherd playing a flute and blamed his music for spoiling her hunting.

In a fit of rage she attacked him and plucked out his eyes. Once she cooled down, she regretted her actions. Where the eyes fell, red carnations grew as signs of innocent blood.

Others believe that Dianthus was named after Zeus, as Zeus in Greek is dios and flower is anthos. Carnations are also referred to as the flower of the gods.

Carnation Meaning

The carnation means fascination, distinction, and love.

According to a Christian legend, carnations grew from the Virgin Mary’s tears as she watched Jesus carry the cross. This is how they became associated with motherly love.

In the Netherlands, white carnations are worn to remember veterans and the country’s resistance to World War II.

In France, purple carnations are the traditional funeral flower.

In some countries, red carnations are worn on May Day to symbolize socialism and the labor movement.

Carnation Symbolism & Colors

Carnations grow in a wide variety of colors including pink, white, red, yellow, and scarlet. They are popular flowers for dying, so if you can’t find a natural color you like you can create it! Each color has a different meaning:

White carnations symbolize purity and luck.

Light red carnations symbolize admiration.

Dark red carnations symbolize love and affection.

Pink carnations symbolize gratitude.

Yellow carnations symbolize disappointment or rejection.

Purple carnations symbolize capriciousness.

Carnation Cultural Significance

Carnations have inspired many artists, poets, and authors. British composer Joseph Mazzinghi wrote a song entitled “Ye Shepherds Tell Me”, which told of a beautiful girl wearing a wreath of flowers.

A wreath around her head,

Around her head she wore,

Carnation, lily, lily, rose,

And in her hand a crook she bore,

And sweets her breath compose.

Esteemed artist John Singer Sargent was influenced by this song, and created a painting entitled Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose, which depicts two girls playing with lanterns in the garden.

Carnation Facts

The scarlet carnation was adopted by the state of Ohio in 1904 to honor the late President William McKinley

The first carnations in the US were shipped from France to Long Island in 1852.

Carnations are the January birth flower.

Carnations are given on 1st anniversaries as a sign of love and commitment.

They’re the second most popular cut flower after roses.

Carnations are the national flower of Spain and Slovenia.

Carnation Uses

Carnations have a history of being brewed into tea to help reduce stress and restore energy. Carnation tea has also been used to reduce fever and treat stomach aches. In addition to tea, carnation oil is used in beauty products to moisturize skin, minimize wrinkles, and treat skin conditions.

。．{☆}・。

lmao finally finished something, sorry for being gone for so long, btw this is not canon and set back before the traveler met paimon, so this is literally them reminiscing about their disease— hanahaki disease— and about the unknown adult— and did i use a lot of fancy words no one will understand? yes i did lol — p.s the traveler can be seen as both lumine and aether

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heathers-wig · 3 years

Text

come & find me - heathney hanahaki au part three

note: please check out parts 1 & 2 before reading! this is the final part :)

## / ## / ##

So. It’s the Hanahaki Disease. Such bullshit. I sound delirious just writing it, but it can’t be helped, I guess.

I don’t know who they’re for, but I can’t let anyone find out. It would bring the bad type of attention, and no one can know of this weakness. Especially my “beloved”, seeing as how they’re literally the death of me. I don’t know who they are, but I already hate their guts. Maybe they’ve replaced Courtney as the Most Aggravating Individual of the Year.

## / ## / ##

Good news: I’m not the only one that has the disease! Bad news: Gwen, Eva, Harold, and Izzy know. Oh, and Gwen has it too, and over the idiot skateboarder, no less.

I guess I can’t judge, though, seeing as how I don’t know who these stupid flowers are for. “Pride” and “loyalty” — what type of hints are those? And Izzy was so out of line with the “I bet it’s Courtney” thing. Glad Gwen found it funny because I sure didn’t.

If it is Courtney, I have the worst taste. The worst.

But Izzy won’t be right. Courtney’s Courtney, and out of my league and I’m out of her league.

## / ## / ##

So. It turns out Izzy was right.

## / ## / ##

Courtney’s infuriating, still, but not in the same way as before. She’s so hard to look away from. I’ve observed all these things about her that I didn’t even know I noticed, and now they’re all resurfacing and it makes it so hard to ignore her. All the things I found aggravating before are weirdly charming now??

She’s just… really pretty. And sweet if she wants to be.

Shit, I really do love her.

Wait. WAIT NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I

…

No, I do love her. I really fucking love her.

She’s just?? Perfect. Every time she straightens her hair and every time she proves someone wrong and every time she does literally anything is so goddamn pretty I can’t even breathe around her. Literally. It’s selfish but I want to have all the couple-y things with her. I want the picket fence and matching rings and holding hands. I want her intimacy and love and affection. I want it all.

But… I’m too selfish for that. I’m just going to die, I’ve accepted it. It’s about time the Hanahaki Club does, too, or they’re just playing themselves as fools.

I am, too, by fantasizing like this. Dying is the only way for me.

## / ## / ##

Gwen’s in stable condition. She got in a coughing fit during a Hanahaki Club meeting, and now she’s literally fucking dying.

I’m scared, but I don’t know why.

That’s going to be me, soon, though. Whether or not Gwen lives to see is something I’ll just have to see.

## / ## / ##

Of course Courtney found out. Smartass.

But is it bad that I really, really liked having her attention and care?

Whatever. But, she held my hand today, and her hand was really, really warm.

God, how pathetic am I? I’m literally dying over here and yet I’m getting all flustered over a hand. I’m doomed.

I don’t know, I just wished I could have stayed like that with her forever. Her hand on mine. Her hand squeezing mine.

Together.

## / ## / ##

It got worse.

It hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts to even fucking breathe with how much it hurts.

Am I dying? I think I am.

I hope I am.

## / ## / ##

She’s clueless. She’s so fucking cute when she’s clueless.

She keeps on trying to guess who my “beloved” is, and she’s fucking clueless that it’s her. Of course she is. Of course Courtney is smart and sharp at everything but identifying that it’s her I’m in love with.

Of course, of course, that’s just the universe playing “Heather’s Karma” at me.

She’ll fall in love, someday, and it’ll hurt like a bitch when she realizes who she’s pining for is a dense rock.

## / ## / ##

I want to hold her and kiss her and love her and I know it’s selfish but the thought of it is so good but I can’t indulge in it and it hurts.

… At least it’ll be over, soon. I can feel another cough coming.

## / ## / ##

I’m going to die today. I can feel it.

It’s a shame Courtney is going to beat herself up for not finishing the answer on time, though, but she’s going to hurt either way. Maybe I’ll leave her this so that she knows.

God, that’s going to be embarrassing, but at least I’ll be dead and not around to see her reaction, even though it’ll be priceless.

It’s time to go, though.

## / ## / ##

Good (?) news: I’m not dead. Bad (?) news: I will be in a few hours.

I’m high on pain meds right now. It hurts to write, but I gotta.

So I thought I was gonna die. Fucking Gwen n Eva ruined that though. They got me to a hospital. Caring assholes.

The doctors say the flowers are going to suffocate me. Good. I’m ready for this to be over.

My last request is that this, somehow, is given to Courtney Barlow. The doctors already know this.

So, Courtney, hey, how are you? In the event you have this, I’m dead. Sorry. You were the person I got Hanahaki for. Sorry for not telling you.

I’m running out of time but I love you. You already saw the other entries, you already know how much I love you and every part of you. Of course you do. Smartass.

Besides this, I have left you a lotus and an azalea taped in my journal. The azalea means “take care of yourself for me”, and I left you one because I’m going to beat your ass if I see you again too soon. The lotus means rebirth.

I don’t know what happens when you die, but come and find me when we’re reborn. In the next life or the one after that, just come and find me. I’ve never been patient but for you, I’ll wait.

Come and find me.

(Courtney goes to find her.)

❀

She finds her through a vase of flowers. Lotus flowers and azaleas, to never forget the promise Heather didn’t know she made.

And heathers. Especially heathers, year-round. The only difference was that she tossed them out before she could see them wilt, much like the original Heather had.

Over the years, Courtney found Heather in minuscule things. In flowers, of course. In libraries and in pain enduring manuals and in medication and in sickness and in health, Courtney found her.

The girl who lives and loves and cries eventually dies, knowing that she’ll soon be reunited with the girl who lived and loved and died.

❀

0. restart

past the blood and bruise / past the curses and cries / beyond the terror in the nightfall / haunted by the look in my eyes / that would've loved you for a lifetime / leave it all behind / and there is happiness

❀

vi. white heathers & red roses; ‘wishes do come true’ & ‘I love you’

It’s been perhaps a day or two since Heather had awoken from her state of dying that she had accepted with grace, and Heather hates everything about the situation.

She may be in stable condition, but she is in no way getting better. She still hacks out sweet peas and purple hyacinths, along with her own blood, and she still feels just as depleted, but Heather can’t bring herself to care. The hospital gown is stiff, and saying the medical equipment is unfamiliar and uncomfortable is an understatement at best, but still, Heather takes the treatment with little argument to be provided. She’s too exhausted to care anymore, and she knows that in a few days short her time will come for good.

Still, despite her denial of the surgery, that didn’t stop her friends from the Hanahaki Club and the doctors begging her in a gentle yet urgent tone to go through with the surgery. She’s not sure why she declines; had it been a few months ago, Heather would have leaped at the chance for treatment when Gwen first suggested it. Now, though, Heather found herself wrinkling her nose in distaste, shaking her head, refusing the treatment, company, and tray of food brought to her.

Maybe, Heather thinks, if she refused her medication and nutrients, she’d die faster, but it seemed even at the hospital she didn’t get the choice. Soon, both are injected into her, and all Heather can do is sigh and wish the blossoms would overtake her faster.

Her family never shows up, though, and Heather is unsure if that’s truly a good or bad thing.

Shaking her head and the thought away, Heather wordlessly looks to the vase of roses sitting next to her stand on her side with a cheesy Get Well Soon! card attached to the vase.

Momentarily, she wonders if she would be killed faster if she choked on the thorns of the roses, before falling asleep due to her own exhaustion.

❀

It’s around 7 PM when Heather expects her nurse to come around with her dinner — an unidentifiable lump of food that tastes like chalk — when the door to her quarters slams open, and a girl who is very much not her nurse stumbles into the room.

Upon identifying who her unprecedented intruder was, Heather felt her windpipes squeeze, a lump forming in her throat. All she can do is stare like an idiot at Courtney, whose face seems to be unable to choose between adopting overwhelming relief or fiery rage.

Momentarily, though, Courtney’s raw frustration creases her features, deepening a scowl and narrowing her eyes — had she always had those bags beneath them? — to slits.

“You… you absolute idiot,” the brunette seethes, fumbling over her words. “Why? Why did you make yourself suffer for so long over these stupid flowers over me? Why are you refusing treatment? God, you’re such an idiot…”

Just like that, concern and relief overwhelm her initial anger, allowing Courtney to sink to her knees next to Heather’s side. The brunette clutches the other’s nearest hand desperately as her face contorts, fighting back a sniffle. For a fleeting moment, concern overrides all else as Heather watches Courtney let out a muffled sob, but she’s powerless to do anything besides squeezing her hand.

“But if you’re an idiot, I’m the bigger one,” Courtney choked out a watery laugh. “All that time spent investigating, and I didn’t even notice who the flowers were even for — if I had just thought harder, or if you had just told me, I could have put an end to these flowers by telling you how I feel.”

At that, Heather opens her mouth to speak, but winces as the pain seeps in once again. She notices her heart monitor elsewhere spiking, and at this, Courtney gives her hand reassuring squeezes that feel familiar and comforting.

Shaking her head once more, Courtney sighs, a fond smile cracking past her exasperated exterior. “Idiot,” she says once more, smiling, “Did you really think I didn’t like you?”

Feeling herself inhale sharply, Heather blinks once, twice, and three times before deducing that no, she hadn’t imagined the words in a dying state. Courtney’s watery eyes and wide smile and hold on her hand are still there, and so is the pain, momentarily, before it subsides. After exhaling deeply, there’s no shakiness in her breaths, nor irritation in her chest or flowers itching in the back of her throat for release.

There was only air. No flowers, blood, or bloody flowers. Just fresh and clean air that she had been deprived of for months.

For the first time in months, Heather breathes, fully and truly, free of the deadly flowers in front of her beloved.

Courtney seems to have noticed as well (her sharpness is something Heather admired — no, loved about her) as her smile falls off her face as a look of blatant surprise overtakes her features. She presses a shaking hand to Heather’s chest, feeling her heartbeat and the even rises and falls of her chest, and laughs.

She’s still shaking, though, so in a moment of blissful selfishness that Heather finally allows herself to indulge in, she wraps Courtney in a hug, and when the brunette wraps her arms around Heather, she vows to never let her go.

The months of the floral disease have been a chilling winter and her touch feels as though she has provided a getaway from it. The snow has given away and has melted into spring, the season of rebirth.

The brunette's warm. She always was, she always has been, but her warmth was unlike Heather had ever felt before, especially in the cold and lonely hospital. Greedily, Heather takes in her heat and her love and breathes in her cinnamon perfume. She was here, and it was real.

Courtney laughs softly, her chapped lips pressing against Heather’s temple diligently. She gives Heather’s hand a squeeze when they disperse from the hug, smiling brightly. Heather smiles and looks to the roses next to her side and lets herself love.

❀

Later, long after they had dispersed from their initial hug and moved onto exchanges of gentle kisses and hand-holding, Courtney hands Heather a bouquet of flowers just before she is dismissed from the hospital. The brunette looks away from Heather’s inquiring gaze, seeming embarrassed and bashful for the first time since Heather had met her.

When Heather identifies the flowers, though, she understands the uncharacteristic flustered behavior, but finds it charming and amusing rather than embarrassing.

White heathers. She lifted a portion of the bouquet to the light for a better view of the white flowers. Symbolizing wishes coming true.

Whether or not Courtney knew of flower language — after this, Heather was unsure if she ever wanted to lay her eyes on the language of flowers, despite the fact it was seared in her head — didn’t matter to Heather. She smiles instead, brushing hair out of Courtney’s eyes to look into them better.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from all the time she spent talking with Courtney.

Predictably, Courtney opens her mouth to respond, but Heather cuts her off with a kiss.

She had been wanting Courtney and her love and affection for months, now, and now that she had it, she couldn’t help but feel the flowers and vicious coughing were nothing but a bad dream she had awoken from.

When they pull apart, Heather sucks in a breath and chuckles softly, just barely audibly, as their noses bump together.

“I love you,” Heather says. There’s no hesitation or stumbling with her words in her proclamation — only sincerity and assurance. She had waited a long time to even think of saying those words, and they had been pressing against her tongue for all of those months spent hacking up flowers. Still, throughout all of the time and suffering, all Heather had done was fall further, and the words were meant with her entire being.

Courtney’s smile in response was bright. Her eyes are just as bright, if not brighter; the words brought tears to her eyes, but thankfully, they were happy tears.

“I love you too,” Courtney murmurs, and this time, it’s her lips that find Heather’s with a smile pressed against them.

❀

END OF PART THREE - THANK YOU FOR READING! :)

#total drama #td heather #td courtney #td gwen #td eva #td izzy #td harold #heathney #gweoff #izva #evzy #my writing #heathney hanahaki au #hanahaki #part 3/3 #thank you for reading if you did!!

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Cherry-Orange Blossoms

Ao3

Chapter 3: Lies, Lies, Lies

Katsuki sucked his breath in through his teeth as he held his hands behind his head and sank himself into a squat. He held it for several seconds before gradually rising, keeping his back perfectly straight on the ascent. His calf and thigh muscles burned with exertion. Sweat glistened on his skin and dampened the fabric of his loose muscle tee and gym shorts. It had begun to roll down the ridges of his body to drip down and puddle on the laminate floor. His cheeks burned with a rosy pink hue, not unlike the color of the cherry blossom-like buds blooming within the tissue of his lungs.

His eye twitched as the tight feeling in his chest worsened. It felt like every muscle was spasming at once and giving his lungs no room to inflate. He coughed weakly, feeling an earthy must spread over his tongue as the spores floating in the infected sacs traveled up his windpipe. Apparently, Hanahaki disease was a fungal infection; the original species lived in woodlands, and its fruiting bodies mimicked flowers to attract insects, who would get trapped in their sticky secretions and slowly dissolve. By some evolutionary process or another, the fungus became parasitic, learning to survive in the harsh environment of the body’s gas exchange organ. They remained dormant, supposedly, in spore form until activated by certain hormones circulated during unrequited affection. Serotypes had differentiated from there, but the fungus reproductive structures retained their flower-like imitation.

Katsuki coughed again; he wasn’t sure if the little specks floating before his face were just dust particles illuminated by the sunlight streaming through his bedroom window, or tiny spores of the fungus. Either way, it irritated him. With a grunt, he abandoned his workout and fell back on his haunches. He gritted his teeth as he stretched out his legs, feeling the soreness of exertion pulsing deep within the tissue. He rubbed his thighs and calves, attempting to work out the tension, but paused when his phone pinged with a message notification. Frowning, he grabbed his cell phone and opened the message in the group chat Eijirou had added him to (without his permission).

Eijirou: Hey, Baku-bro, do you want to go to the mall with us today?

Denki: The videogame store is having a sale on new arrivals today! We can totally stock up!

Hanta: Denki, you just want to get Animal Crossing.

Denki: >o< Shut up! I find it therapeutic!

Eijirou: I like the ones that are really manly and into working out. :)

Katsuki rolled his eyes as the conversation derailed to a discussion about the kiddish videogame. He had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, and being cooped up in his house with only his thoughts was liable to drive him insane. Already, three times that morning, Katsuki’s mind had wandered to the bubbly girl with the glitter planet charm, and he had suffered coughing fits. One of them had resulted in another cherry blossom petal, which he had buried at the bottom of his trash bin because all hell would break loose if his mother found it. Katsuki typed up a quick affirmative before climbing to his feet so he could find something suitable to wear. He didn’t care much about what people thought of his outfit, but he still had the decency to not walk around in sweat-drenched clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yooo, Baku-bro!” Denki called excitedly and waved as Katsuki hopped off the subway train. His friends clustered at the base of the stairs leading up to the street. Katsuki shoved his hands deep into his cargo pants pockets, fingering the small collection of cherry lozenges he had thrown in last minute. He didn’t look fondly upon choking out in front of the team and the cheerleaders. Hopefully, his chances of being tackled to the ground on an outing to the mall were meager. Katsuki would much rather suck on one of the sickly-sweet throat tablets than cough up a petal in front of the three. “Why the grumpy face, bro?” Denki asked as he pranced up to him and jabbed him a few times in the bicep.

“Fuck off, Pikachu, I’m not grumpy.” The natural black streak in the electric blond’s hair reminded Katsuki of the shitty little Pokémon, so he had taken to referring to Denki as such. Katsuki clicked his teeth and ran his fingers through his ash-blond hair, finding the strands still clumped with perspiration despite the crude towel-dry he had subjected the fluffy locks to. Whatever. Not like some idiot is gonna come up and sniff my hair. If some whackjob did, Katsuki would kindly provide them a knuckle sandwich.

“So, Eijirou said you had a summer cold or somethin’,” Hanta said casually as the four began to mount the steps to the surface world. “Are you feeling better?”

“I wasn’t feelin’ bad in the first place,” Katsuki growled with a pointed look at the redhead. Eijirou flushed and tugged at his collar with a nervous chuckle. Katsuki rolled his shoulders and slumped a little, feeling his already volatile mood worsening with the reminder of his humiliating experience. “It was just a shitty cough. I slept it off just fine.” The cherry lozenges bounced in his pocket, their little clacks and rustles evidence against his falsehood.

They reached the small veranda that covered the entrance to the subway system. Katsuki blinked rapidly as the harsh sunlight greeted him, burning his eyes. As he shielded his face from its onslaught, his ears gradually processed the din of conversation and traffic assaulting them. The already warm air was hot with the fumes pouring out of the mufflers of the cars lodged bumper-to-bumper on the blacktop road waiting for the light to turn green. Small crowds milled at the crosswalks or scurried in groups across the neat white lines. A steady flow of people streamed along the sidewalk, chattering into their cell phones, scrolling through their social media feeds, or talking amiably with their companions. Katsuki’s blood instantly cooled with the flush of anxiety.

So many people meant so many witnesses if things went way south.

His throat began to itch just thinking about it, and he scratched compulsively at his Adam’s apple, as if to silence the angry screams of the irritated cells. His friends seemed not to notice his anxieties; they strolled on ahead to melt into the throng. Katsuki forced his feet to follow lest he be left behind or lost in the horde. The mall was a short jaunt from the station and towered on the distant city horizon. Its glass dome reflected the light blue of the sky and shimmered like diamonds as the light beams played over its surface. He half-listened as Hanta energetically babbled about the apocalyptic survival game he intended on purchasing.

“-Bakugo. Hey, earth to Bakugo!” Katsuki’s lashes fluttered when he was yanked out of his blank thoughts by Denki. He was snapping his fingers in front of Katsuki’s face. Scowling, Katsuki shoved his hand aside and demanded to know what the hell he wanted.

“What’s up with you spacing out, dude? You were legit about to walk into the fountain.” Katsuki blinked and looked ahead to realize that the large, bubbling fountain situated in the mall’s front plaza was indeed not more than a foot in front of him. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he hunched his shoulders, grumbling about how he totally saw it. The three of them exchanged suspicious glances but elected to shrug off the incident. Katsuki’s mouth curled into a frown, and his gaze shifted through the various patrons as they strolled through the automatic glass doors of the mall entrance.

The cooled air pumped by the building’s massive air conditioning units admittedly did feel nice on Katsuki’s raw throat. He breathed in deep, relishing the way the icy oxygen chilled the inflamed passage. Denki squirmed about in excitement in front of him, bleating about all the things he was going to build on his Animal Crossing island. Hanta made a very unflattering gesture behind his back, which Eijirou reprimanded him for with a sharp jab to his ribs.

“Do we want snacks first?” Hanta wheezed as he held his bruised intercostals and leaned down over a decorative wall containing various ferns and flowers. Their aromatic pollen tickled Katsuki’s nose and throat, returning that insufferable itch. Katsuki edged away from the plants while holding the collar of his shirt over his mouth. When Eijirou looked at him expectantly, he dropped the cloth and grimaced.

“I don’t care. Let’s just get a move on.”

“Let’s do pretzels, then!” the redhead suggested, spying a small stand squashed in the corner of the nearby food court. Katsuki’s heart sunk, because he just knew the salt and toasted breadstuff would aggravate his symptoms; his stomach soon took over the emotions, rumbling in his abdomen to demand sustenance. Soon he was sitting on a bench and wolfing down a salted pretzel dunked in nacho cheese. Every few seconds, however, the itch would come clawing back up his trachea, and he had to douse it with a large gulp of soda, forcing it from the entrance to his throat. It lurked in the shadows of his insides, prowling like a beast.

Katsuki’s vermilion eyes anxiously skated the crowd as he ate the pretzel. Aside from his three friends, everyone in the mall was a stranger to him- but that didn’t matter. Among them could be news reporters, sports journalists, and any number of professionals who could latch onto his woeful story and make money off his downfall. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, now finding the material irritating on his neck. He slightly resented not wearing a lower-cut fit.

He tore his gaze away from the crowd, knowing that dwelling on his illness would only lead to trouble. He found Denki staring dreamily into his container of caramel sauce with his half-eaten pretzel raining cinnamon sugar onto his clothes as he just held it up.

“Yo, Earth to Pikachu. Who’s the one spacing out now?” Katsuki jeered. He blinked when a faint pink hue rose to the lanky blond’s cheeks.

“I wonder if Kyoka likes Animal Crossing.”

“Oh, here we go,” Hanta sighed and pushed his forehead into his hand with a sardonic grin. Denki blushed darker but was determined to keep the stoic noirette the topic of conversation.

“She’s just so… you know! And I’m so… you know!” Denki lamented, gestating wildly with his pretzel and shaking more of the sweet spice and sugar all over himself. Katsuki pouted and reclined against the bench, trying not to focus on the romantic implications of the conversation. He’d suffered enough of romance in the last few days. It’s like I can’t escape from this Hell! He seethed, desperately trying to prevent his thoughts from spiraling to a certain cheery brunette. Denki whined and pushed his fist into his cheek. “I just don’t know how to impress her, you guys.”

“You mean your ravishing good looks aren’t enough?” Hanta joked, earning an affronted shove from the blond. Hanta munched on his pretzel hot dog and didn’t even bother swallowing. With his cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s, he posed matter-of-factly, “You gotta make her laugh, dude. Chicks dig a guy who can crack a good joke.”

“I’m funny, right…?”

“O’course you are, Denki!” Eijirou encouraged and looked at Katsuki, eyebrows knit and requesting a follow-up. Katsuki licked some nacho cheese from the corner of his mouth and bared his teeth like an angry hound.

“Funny-looking.”

“Baku-bro, why’re you so mean?” Denki whined and flopped his head back against the metal bar of the bench. Katsuki bristled, then looked away aggravatedly.

“Why’re you asking me, anyway? Do you think I give two shits about your little crush problems? Just man up and ask the girl out, Jesus,” he growled and violently tore a chunk of the pretzel off with his teeth. Denki pursed his lips thoughtfully, then sighed wistfully.

“It’s just not that easy, y’know…”

“Yeah, but he’s right, man,” Hanta frowned. “At least that way, you’ll get an answer. Keep pinin’ like this, and you’ll end up like Kendo.” Hanta made a coughing up motion and then sneered, obviously jesting. Denki snorted with laughter while Eijirou grinned, but Katsuki felt a blast of fire pulse through his nerve circuits. His cheeks flushed with anger, and he clenched the container of nacho cheese until it caved in and spilled the thick paste all over his fingers.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled. The three boys looked at him, their smiles each falling from their faces as they beheld Katsuki’s rigid posture and death-grip on the crumpled plastic packet of cheese. When Eijirou began to ask if he was all right, Katsuki’s red eyes flashed to him with a livid glare. “Shut the fuck up. You assholes have no fucking idea what you’re talking about! Keep fucking joking like that, and you will be choking on flowers soon!” he roared and threw the messy container of cheese onto the floor. Denki protested as the yellow-orange substance splattered all over the tile, but Katsuki was already up and walking, dripping the sauce from his fingers as he stalked off into the crowd. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He didn’t even have much of a reason other than he just had to get out of there. Or else, the bitter tears that he was so desperately trying to hold back would spring forth, and he couldn’t have that.

Subconsciously, he was able to navigate to the nearest men’s restroom. He startled a little boy washing his hands by throwing the door open with such force that the handle banged against the tile wall and cracked it. The boy decided to skip the paper towels and hurried out of the room, leaving Katsuki alone. Panting as the emotions threatened to overtake him, he paced in front of the sinks like an angry tiger, snarling curses under his breath. With a sudden shout, he punched the metal bin of paper towels. The surface dented, and the automatic dispenser registered his movement and spat out a single white piece of thin material. Something about the dull whirring of the machine swept his frustration away, leaving him just an empty shell. Dully, he plucked the napkin from the dispenser and began wiping the cheese from his hand.

“Fuck,” he whispered suddenly and flopped back against the wall, running his clean hand over his face. What the fuck was his problem? Growing angry at the smallest things, barely able to contain his temper… Rumor would begin to spread if he kept it up. He looked morosely at his knuckles, which were already turning blue and purple -purple, like Ochako’s glittery Saturn charm that she was so excited to pull out of that crappy little coin game at the bubble tea shop sophomore year.

Ochako…

What would she think, to see him acting like this- yelling at his friends and punching things? It would sadden her, absolutely. The brick scraped against Katsuki’s back as he slid down into a sitting position. He tucked his legs to his chest and rested his arms on his knees, then buried his face into the flesh of his forearms. His red eyes gazed miserably at the shadowy tile peeking between the ridges of his sneakers.

Stop freaking out so much. That’s all you have to do, Katsuki tried to convince himself. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Stop being a pissbaby. So what if you’ve got some dumbass disease? Who cares what those Internet bastards say?! I ain’t dyin’, at least not for some time yet! He clenched his fists together, renewed determination flooding his body. I don’t gotta lay down and die or walk on eggshells for this bullshit! I’m Katsuki fucking Bakugo, basketball superstar in the making! No pussy-ass fungus bitch is taking me out!

His nostrils flared as he blew hot breath from his nose. His arm shot up to grasp the sink nearest him and haul himself up. He wiped the rest of the cheese from his hand and then glared at himself into the mirror. Red eyes swam in a pale face that was gradually returning with the color of life -red eyes, like red sneakers, like red hairpins, like red blood. I’m not choking on it yet, he growled to the slightly sickly reflection. Not fucking yet.

His friends were still on the bench when he finally ventured out. They had finished their pretzels and were now drinking slushes. Eijirou had a blue one tucked neatly beside him, untouched.

“Hey, Katsuki, we saved you one,” the redhead smiled and offered the icy drink to him. Katsuki took it with a quiet word of gratitude, electing to stand and shake off the rest of his nervous energy by shifting his weight continuously from one foot to the other. The three boys on the bench awkwardly glanced at one another.

Hanta nervously piped up, “You were right. Hanahaki isn’t somethin’ to joke about… Sorry.” Katsuki stared blankly into the slushie, plucking up the straw to swirl the slushy liquid-ice concoction around in the giant cup.

“S’fine. ‘S just… I saw her, y’know. Kendo.” Katsuki had passed her in the hall the previous day. The girl crouched by the water fountain, clutching her neck as yellow narcissus petals sprouted from her trachea. They fluttered slowly down to pile at her feet; some of the buttery flowers were tinged red with blood from where they had brushed against her raw throat. After a hacking bout, she had shakily tried to drink some water, only to spit it up and start all over again. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and broken sobs leaked out with the coughs. “It’s fucking miserable. I don’t wish it on anybody,” he whispered with lidded eyes. He continued swirling the slush without drinking it, watching the ice melt. The three boys fidgeted on the bench, shamed into silence. Of course, Katsuki was no better; up until this point, he had haughtily discounted anyone who fell victim to the ailment as weak-willed and stupid.

He was such a conceited prick.

Sullenly, he sucked more of the half-melted concoction into his mouth. The cold mush soothed his burning throat even better than the cooled building air. Blinking, he cast a look back into the crowd-

and saw a glittery purple Saturn charm swinging within the mass of bodies. He coughed a little and spit up some of the blue liquid back into the cup, then rubbed his eyes to make sure he didn’t imagine the tacky charm. Sure enough, Ochako had the accessory clipped to one of the belt loops of her white jean shorts. Her smile was radiant, spearing light throughout the room like the stars through the universe. Her pink blouse swished about her frame, giving her a dainty and cute look. She was in avid conversation with someone as she strolled along, and had her fingers linked with theirs.

Katsuki didn’t have to look to know whose hand she was holding.

His fingers twitched, itching to crush the slushie just like he did the little container of cheese, but he refrained from doing so. He couldn’t stop the wracking cough that rattled his body, however. He turned away from his friends on the bench as his chest spasmed. That familiar feeling blossomed in his trachea. The petal was soft as it landed on his tongue, spreading it earthy flavor over his taste buds. He discreetly spat it out and tucked it underneath the fingers holding his cup as Eijirou asked him if he was all right.

“Just fine,” he lied. The blossom-like fungal body seared against his skin, like it was reprimanding him. Not that it did much good- for the next several months, Katsuki was going to lie and lie and lie until it got to the point he couldn’t anymore.

He didn’t know what he would do when that time came. Hollowly, he drank the slushie, feeling the numbing cold spread throughout his entire body- cold like death.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Want more stories? Check out my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @sadistiks @wesparklebitch @cellotonin @pixxiesdust

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ao3feed-tododeku · 4 years

Text

By the Time You Loved Me

By The Time You Loved Me by Addershade

He'd been set about his chambers coughing a frenzy all throughout the night. By the time he'd been called upon in the morning the floor of his bedroom had been carpeted in a thick layer of blood and honeysuckle petals. Shouto himself was found curled up in the bath naked, unresponsive from exhaustion. The cold water up to his neck and saturated with perfumed flowerheads, sweat and, most alarmingly, thistle blossoms. They assumed he was dead until they had tried to move him... --- Shouto has lost his first love. After a close call with death, he's determined to close himself off from anyone who isn't Katsuki or Eijiro. But when a green haired peasant stumbles into their lives, never falling in love again turns out to be much more difficult than it first sounded. And it already sounded pretty difficult.

[High fantasy AU with original races and an original setting, hanahaki and soulmates is stolen but y'all knew that]

Words: 4260, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi

Characters: Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku, Yaoyorozu Momo, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Todoroki Shouto & Yaoyorozu Momo, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou/Todoroki Shouto, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Hanahaki Disease, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, High Fantasy, Dragons, Quirks are a Type of Magic, Original Universe, Original Character Races, Romance, Action & Romance, Slow Burn, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags Will Spoil From Here, You Have Been Warned, Character Death, Fake Character Death, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Mutual Pining, Plot Twists, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto is a Mess, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Prince Bakugou Katsuki, Prince Kirishima Eijirou, Prince Todoroki Shouto, Shouto Todoroki has Hanahaki Disease, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Language of Flowers

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371409

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Tododeku Plus #❤️#💛#Tododeku Plus #Todobakukiri #♧#R:T #A:Addershade #Royalty AU #Dragon AU #Fantasy AU #Hanahaki AU #Soulmate AU

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starjeno · 5 years

Text

bloom | n.jm | 1

genre: angst, fluff? | hanahaki!au pairing: student!jaemin x female!reader warnings: vomiting/choking, blood, lots of flashbacks summary: jaemin suffers from a special kind of unrequited love — one that makes him choke out flowers. a/n: my first fic! and it’s sad! i have never read the manga where hanahaki originated from, all the information i got was from google. all the flashbacks are in italics :o enjoy!

for the last five years, jaemin’s gone through hell.

it’s not hell in the typical sense — there are no demons that follow him and he isn’t caught up in some horrifying gore-filled scenario. nothing like that. jaemin considers his condition infinitely worse.

as children, he never batted an eye at you. though your families were close, you two never really clicked as your parents thought you would. trips together were dull and classes were even duller. to jaemin, you were just another blade of grass in a field. you didn’t really mind.

“jaem!” you call out, and he whips his head over to meet your eyes. he’s been waiting at this park bench for what seemed to be ages. your lips curve upward at his blank expression, “sorry! did you wait long?”

35 minutes.

“i just got here, no worries,” he smiles. he pauses suddenly as he feels his chest swell with a sharp pain, right above his heart, “i need to use the restroom. one moment.”

jaemin rushes off towards the nearest building, gripping his torso firmly. he feels an upward flow and makes it to an empty stall just in time to heave. light pink apple blossoms trickle out of his system. they bob on top of the water gently, and jaemin notes the darker tinge at the base of the petals.

“shit.” it’s the only thing he can say right now. his hands run messily through his bangs while he thinks about his second year of high school, the athletic festival, right before the 100 meter sprint. jaemin thinks of it as the first time he threw up petals.

“i’m going to win that race.”

jaemin freezes. he happened to walk past the water fountains when your harsh whispers filled the quiet air. he hears another giggle from one of your friends.

“what if he was lying?”

“lying?!” you exclaim, and jaemin has to stifle a laugh at your incredulous tone while you continued, “he declared in class that he would go on a date with whichever girl won the 100 meters.”

“it was just to get his fan club’s hopes up.” jaemin nods at your friend’s sentiments, but you aren’t deterred.

“well, as part of his fan club, my hopes are up!”

jaemin continues walking after that. he doesn’t really care.

jaemin smiles a bit at the memory, but then remembers you’re still waiting for him. he flushes the petals down and laughs bitterly as he washes his face. for the rest of the world, apple blossoms represent good health and eternal love. for jaemin, they’re the opposite.

he’s happy for now, though. watching you run up to him and ask if he’s okay makes his heart swell with love. you grab jaemin’s hand and lead the way down various streets. a smile spreads on his face without him realizing when he recognizes the route to the animal shelter — you had remembered when he talked about wanting a dog since forever. when you arrive in front of the building, you turn and smile, “surprise! i know you want a dog really badly so maybe you can spread that love to some of the pups in here!”

jaemin wraps you in a warm hug, feeling his chest heat up. he bit his lip, not knowing whether it’s because you care about him so much or the petals beginning to form in his throat again.

jaemin trudges over to the track, where you stood stretching. a hand strikes him on his shoulder, and he twists his head to see jeno grinning happily. jaemin’s best friend for the last six years had dragged him here to watch the girls in their grade “for educational purposes”. jaemin agreed.

“isn’t that ____? she’s cute,” jeno remarks, nudging jaemin. he was already watching you bend side to side, loosening your arms. jaemin nods absentmindedly, thinking back to your resolution to win.

“you know, mark said that he would date whoever won this race?” jaemin motions to the track below and jeno snorts, “he’s such a dick! he thrives off these girls flailing over him.”

jaemin hums in agreement. by now, everyone had lined up at the starting line. he watches you now, eyes curious with how fast you’ll run. at the pop of the toy gun, cheering ensues from the bleachers. jeno laughs with glee, but jaemin stays silent. the amount of effort you sprinted with made his cheeks flush with anticipation. he doesn’t understand why you would put so much effort in for someone you had a silly crush on.

would you ever do this for him?

jaemin’s face turned a dark shade of red as you zoomed past the finish line, collapsing onto your knees. jeno shrieks with joy at your victory before glancing over at jaemin, who’s heaving and furrowing his eyebrows.

“jaemin?” he asks cautiously, and jaemin turns to jeno with fear creeping up the protruding veins of his neck. he opens his mouth to respond, but instead of words, a petal falls out. jeno’s mouth drops open, “you ate a fucking flower? when?”

jaemin wipes his lips with wide eyes and looks at the moist baby pink crescent in his lap. an apple blossom, like the trees that grew around his home.

jaemin rubs the puppy’s ears fondly, watching its fur fall back into place. the room is filled with barks and laughter and jaemin believes he could not feel any more bliss than this. his smile slowly fades when he knows you and him could not be like this forever.

“jaemin!” you laugh, holding up the paw of a small bichon frise, “we should totally get a puppy! we could take turns caring for it or — oh! maybe we can even move in together!”

jaemin’s face whips up in shock, his bangs landing messily, “what?”

“oh! it was just a thought, you know?” you bite your lip, realizing how crazy that must’ve sounded, “since we study at neighboring colleges and you have a part-time job …”

jaemin looks away, blushing and smiling. he loves you, especially when you plan out a future with him in it. his chest pierces with a flash of pain and he groans, eyebrows curling in alarm.

you glance over, freezing up when he clutches the curve of his neck, “jaem? what’s wrong?”

he gives a weak smile, “i think i ate something bad.”

before you could reach out to him, jaemin flees and runs over to the bathroom. he curls over a toilet again, hurling petal after petal. the water was covered by a pink layer now, and jaemin’s alarmed. it’s more than last time and though he was told the quantity would increase, he never knew the color would deepen and the taste would be more metallic. it was almost like —

“ — blood?”

“hanahaki disease.”

“what?” jaemin says in confusion. jeno repeats again, this time with emphasis, “ha-na-ha-ki. i did some research.”

“research?” jeno nods, “you’ve been spitting petals out all week! it’s like every time we eat lunch, you spit out a flower!”

jaemin grumbles, “it’s only 1 or 2 petals.”

“it’s only not normal,” jeno retorts. he turns over his laptop and opens a basic google search, “it’s a disease that’s really rare. almost unheard of. you cough up flower petals when you have unrequited love.”

jaemin chokes at the last word, “love? that’s a strong word.” there was no way he was in love with you yet, there hadn’t even been a proper conversation between you two.

“yeah, who in the world do you love so much that it makes you grow a whole garden in your lung?” jeno asks sarcastically.

jaemin stays silent.

“but, this doesn’t look too good jaem. you’ll die if they can’t reciprocate your feelings. you’ll keep throwing up more and more flowers until it suffocates you,” jeno says in concern. he looks up at jaemin, fearful, “do your parents know? how long has this been happening?”

“they don’t, only you. you saw the first one.”

“good god, jaemin. y-you need to see a doctor! tell your parents! something!” jeno runs his hand through his hair, standing up. his eyes are pinker than usual and jaemin exhales shakily. he didn’t want to die.

jaemin had sighed a thousand times today. his head hurt, and while puppies could seemingly cure everything, they couldn’t ease his pain. you gaze at jaemin when he walks back into the room, “are you sure you’re okay?”

he doesn’t want to end this time with you early, but he felt like jeno needed an update, especially since neither of you knew that actual blood would be involved, “i don’t feel that great, sorry.”

“don’t be sorry! let me walk you to your car,” you hurridly plead, to which jaemin nods gratefully. the walk is silent with the exception of pointing out a cloud that looked funny or some strange person on the sidewalk. when he slides into his car seat, you press your lips to his cheek through the window, whispering a small goodbye and jogging off.

jaemin rests his head on the wheel once you disappear, and he feels something hot and wet on his cheek.

he knows his version of hell is the worst.

next | masterlist

#bloom #starjeno #jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream jaemin #jaemin ff #jaemin angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #angst #nct dream #nct #hanahaki #hanahaki au #hanahaki jaemin

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chilligyu · 5 years

Text

info: kwon soonyoung/reader, teen+, hanahaki/dystopian au genre: angst, romance | word ct: 5k warnings: blood, gore, major character death summary: no one told her about hanahaki, no one told her about the risks, the dangers. no one told her that if she were to love kwon soonyoung she might as well be dead. notes: formerly known as if lilies were red

cross posted on ao3

She wasn’t told about Hanahaki when she was young. At least—she was never told the truth. She didn’t know what the symptoms are, how the disease would spread, nothing. All she knew was that Hanahaki was once a disease that was uncontrollable, devastating, unavoidable, and always fatal. According to her teachers it would claim hundreds of lives yearly. Eventually the government was able to find a cure and Hanahaki was effectively purged from society. The Cure was a complete success, no one worried about it anymore, and there wasn’t a single recorded case of Hanahaki since.

So when she watched her teacher cough up blood onto the floor, purple petals falling from her lips, she didn’t know what it could possibly be. She didn’t know why anyone would cough up flowers, why she tried to run, why government officials suddenly stormed the classroom and took her teacher away. And she didn’t know why her teacher denied it happening when they came back two weeks later, explaining her absence with illness.

She remembered raising her hand in the air innocently, asking a question no one had thought to ask.

“What sort of disease makes you cough up flowers?”

It was a question she would have for years, one she would never get an answer to. Whoever she asked either had no clue or told her to mind her own business. Neither of which gave her much closure on the subject. Her parents tried to convince her time and time again not to worry about it, they even made her promise never to ask the question again. Yet no matter how much she wanted to or how hard she tried she couldn’t forget those purple flowers floating in blood.

Her curiosity didn’t relent as she transitioned from a rosy cheeked child into a young woman. She did learn to be more discrete, quietly researching in her spare time. Always wondering what sort of affliction could cause petals to spill past ones lips and why no one wanted to provide the answers she sought out so desperately. Because there wasn’t a single medical journal she happened upon that could describe the illness her teacher once had. She couldn’t find evidence of it anywhere.

When she was volunteering at a blood bank she witnessed that strange disease again. She was with Soonyoung, a good friend, unloading a delivery at the local hospital. Soonyoung joked about her being weak, she stubbornly stuck out her tongue and carried on. She could remember slipping and cutting open her elbow on the floor in her hubris. He had taken her into a bathroom to bandage her up. They were laughing when it happened, they were completely naïve.

“Get away from me!”

They both froze at the sound of someone shouting out in the hallway. The person, whoever they were, sounded sick. She could hear them coughing horrendously, light splats resonating as something wet hit the floor. A part of her wanted to help him, but fear kept her rooted where she stood. Then—footsteps. Plenty of them. Loud too. They were chasing the sick person, they continued to scream until she heard a sickening crack.

Then there was silence.

Both Soonyoung and her were too startled to move at first, they had no idea what just happened. Soonyoung admitted to her later that he didn’t want to know. But as she bravely cracked open the door, cautiously peering out into the hallway, she saw the bloodied yellow petals scattered across the linoleum. Without a doubt she knew it was the same disease that plagued her teacher all those years ago.

“We have someone here in the last stage of Hanahaki.” Silence. “No sir, he wasn’t on our radar.” Silence. “That was our mistake sir, we’ll get him into the operating room now and fix this. The Cure will be administered.”

Hanahaki? She asked herself, closing the door. I thought—I thought that disease was eradicated?

Silence and fear washed over them, blanketing them in a tension that she struggled to breathe through. There was an undeniable weight on her chest, her rapid heartrate was a thunderstorm in her ears. She had never felt more terrified in her entire life. Beside her, Soonyoung trembled, neither of them knew what to do. The only thing that they did know was that if they made a wrong move their fate would be sealed.

“We need to get out of here.” Soonyoung whispered in her ear. “I don’t like how this sounds.”

“Neither do I.” She admitted. “But—but what do we do? If we run and they see us? I don’t want to think of what would happen to us—”

“So don’t.” He stated plainly, taking her hand in his. “Concentrate on what we can control, we’ll run only when we know it’s safe.”

Even though she still felt on edge, Soonyoung’s words calmed her considerably. After lacing their fingers together she was able to think more clearly, breathe a bit easier, her heartrate slowed until she could no longer hear the blood rushing in her ears. As the feeling of dread dissipated she was able to concentrate on what she heard.

“Soonyoung?” She asked, her face paling in terror. “What—what is Hanahaki? Like—like what’re the symptoms?”

He looked at her in disbelief. “You want to talk about a disease that was cured over a hundred years ago? Now? We’re a little busy if you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s the thing, I—” She muttered underneath her breath. “I don’t think it was cured.”

In that exact moment she had no idea how right she was.

Neither of them spoke of that day after their escape. And not from lack of trying on her part. Even though she feared what would happen to her if her search for the truth was made public, she wasn’t deterred in the slightest. If anything, the terror she felt fuelled her. There was something strange transpiring around her and she wouldn’t stop until she got to the bottom of it.

The last piece of the puzzle came to her after her grandfather passed, a grandfather she didn’t even know existed. He worked for the government on the other side of the country, and did so until the day he died. Her family gathered in the foreign town to offer condolences and also to help her uncles clear out his house. She had been lifting boxes and transporting them to the moving truck when she dropped a heavier one full of books. As they scattered across the attic floor, one caught her eye.

The Origins of Hanahaki

For a moment, time stopped. She couldn’t believe what she had just happened upon, the very thing she had been trying to find for years was only two feet in front of her. Cautiously, she looked over her shoulders, hoping that her parents wouldn’t come looking for her. Dropping to her knees she took the old text in her hands and hesitantly began leafing through the pages. Her mind soaked up every single piece of information, the tiniest detail, until she was finally enlightened.

Hanahaki wasn’t something that could truly be prevented, only cured. Everyone had the illness within them from the day they were born. And its physical symptoms are brought on by unrequited love. A bouquet of flowers slowly blossoming in your chest, the favorite flowers of the one you love, until you finally suffocate on the petals. Once someone has it there were only two ways to rid yourself of the affliction. Either move on from the person who couldn’t reciprocate the feelings, or have the flower inside of you removed. If Hanahaki went without cure, the host would eventually die.

Along the margins of the book her grandfather had written notes of varying importance. Some were corrections to the information provided, others were diagrams of flowers, and the most important of all were the notes on curing Hanahaki. What was written along the edges detailed a theoretical process in which Hanahaki was cured before it could even take root. He had written THE CURE in big red letters at the top of the page and then UNPRACTICAL in blue several years after.

Everyone, no matter how old or how young, had flowers embedded in their lungs. According to her grandfather’s theory, those flowers could be removed even before they had a chance to bloom, before a person was cursed with Hanahaki. Though it came at a cost. Removing the flowers permanently cuts off ones capacity to love. Or to feel any emotion at all, that’s why doctors initially didn’t recommend the treatment unless Hanahaki had already begun.

She was never without that book in the following years. Always hidden, never seen, but always with her. She learned everything there was to know about Hanahaki from those pages, she learned about a disease that humans would never be rid of completely. It was in their DNA, it was a part of them. Even with all of this information she still had questions, she felt as if she would always have questions. But one question eclipsed all others, the one she could never stop thinking about. How was it that there had been no reported cases of Hanahaki if the Cure her grandfather suggested never came to fruition?

Soonyoung distracted her from her overactive mind whenever they were together. Something she deeply appreciated, a semblance of normalcy in her life. They had graduated high school and gone on to attend the same university. He was her best friend, the one person in the world she felt as if she could trust. And yet—she never told him about what she learned. She didn’t tell him about the truths of Hanahaki, she didn’t tell anyone, but perhaps she should’ve. Looking back, she wished that she had dared to trust him long enough to prevent what would happen to her next.

“She said yes!” He exclaimed one day. “Jimin actually said yes!”

The girl Soonyoung was referencing was one he had an ungodly crush on for the longest time. He gushed about her daily, fawned over her fair looks and sweet voice, and no one heard more about her than his best friend. She didn’t mind, she was happy for him. She was happy that he was moving forward with his life. Even as she told him those exact words easily, she couldn’t deny the ache she felt in her chest. That ache only grew stronger and more tenacious in the following weeks until it disappeared almost overnight.

She was completely unaware that it was already too late.

When Hanahaki first presents itself you start by coughing horrendously. The flowers begin to emerge from the lining of your lungs and the irritation causes an immense pain in your chest. It’s mostly overlooked in the beginning, writing it off as just a bad cough. Most people don’t even know that there are flowers blooming inside of them until the bloody petals spill from their lips. She was no different.

The first time she coughed up flowers she was at home, thankfully. In the middle of the night she could feel something making its way up her throat and in her lethargic state she barely recognized what was going on. Quickly she ran to the bathroom, practically tearing the door of its hinges as she collapsed onto her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Wiping off the corners of her mouth with a towel she noticed the blood stained lilies floating around in the water.

Shock hit her almost instantly, followed shortly by denial. She couldn’t believe her eyes, she refused to. She shook her head back and forth, covering her mouth as quiet sobs wracked her body. In all of her studies, in her search for the truth, she never imagined that Hanahaki would affect her directly. The idea that she would be afflicted with the disease never crossed her mind. She cursed herself for being so foolish as she plucked petals from between her teeth.

Despite her situation, she did her best to continue on like nothing was wrong. Mostly to no avail. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t shake the anxious feeling coursing through her. Everywhere she went she was afraid someone would see her cough up petals into her handkerchief. And more afraid of what would happen to her next. She didn’t go to the doctors, she tried not to go out at all if she could help it. Mostly she spent her days working from home doing her best to remain hidden until she overcame whatever unrequited love she was apparently enduring.

The thought occurred to her to tell the authorities, to go to the doctor to have the flowers permanently cut out from her lungs. Surely the procedure still existed, Hanahaki wasn’t something that was going to go away just because the government said it would. She didn’t know who caused the flower to bloom in the first place, it wasn’t as if cutting off her emotions would’ve brought her any sadness. It was a viable option, one she cast aside almost as soon as she thought of it. The idea of never being able to experience happiness, love, it wasn’t worth it.

Soonyoung stopped by when she offhandedly sent him a text saying that she was “sick”, hoping it would keep him away. He didn’t need to know about her disease, didn’t need to be troubled by her silly mistake. That didn’t stop him, few things could. When he set his mind to a task nothing could get in his way. It was one of many things that made her happy that he was her best friend.

“Hey sicky.” He smirked, poking his head in through an open window suddenly.

Startled, she backed away instinctively and let out a shaky laugh. “Holy shit, Soonyoung. You can’t just scare a girl half to death like that!”

“Apparently I can.” He continued to tease her. “Why aren’t you answering my text messages?”

“I already told you.” She sighed. “I’m sick.”

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Is that so? The best friend that I know and love is completely glued to her phone whenever she’s sick. Can’t get her off of it. Isn’t that strange?”

Blushing, she discreetly coughed into her hand. “Okay, fine. I’ve been ignoring you, I’m sorry.”

“You better be sorry!” He exclaimed matter-of-factly. “I even knew that you were ignoring me and I still came here to cheer you up.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “We’re already aware that you’re a far better friend then I am.”

“That’s true.” He grinned proudly. “I even considered giving you the cold shoulder—but I couldn’t. I’ve just missed you so darn much.”

Eyes widening, she was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. This one was worse than those that had come before, she couldn’t even stand up straight as she felt a flower make its way up her throat. Quickly she ran to the bathroom, spitting the lily into the toilet before Soonyoung had a chance to catch up. She was able to flush it just in time for him to appear in the doorway, worry creasing his soft features.

“Is that—” He swallowed nervously. “Is that blood? Have you seen a doctor yet?”

Wiping the warmth from her chin, she nodded. “O-of course I have. What sort of person doesn’t see the doctor when they’re sick?”

He offered her a reassuring smile. “Stubborn people. Which you might be from time to time.”

Snickering weakly, she splashed some cold water into her face. “Did you only come here to make fun of me and call me names?”

“I wish.” He joked. “I brought you some flowers on Jimin’s request. If you were really sick I thought you could use some cheering up.”

Watching him reach into his jacket, her heart warmed considerably. Soonyoung truly cared for her even if at sometimes it was hard to see. He always knew what to do or what to say to make her feel better. Unfortunately for her, no amount of kindness from her best friend could heal the illness she was plagued with, only she could.

She paled when she saw that he had brought her lilies, the flower she was more than acquainted with, but she quickly plastered on a fake smile. “Thank you so much, Soonyoung. Did Jimin pick these out?”

“No.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “I did. They’re my favorite.”

When her knees suddenly gave out and she vomited into the toilet, it wasn’t because of Hanahaki.

It never crossed her mind that she could possibly be in love with her best friend. Never. In hindsight it probably should’ve been her first guess. They had been friends since they were kids, they did everything together, knew everything about each other, it only made sense. Soonyoung was the person she could turn to for anything and often did. He was there for her when she needed him most, and evidently the one person to seal her fate with nothing more than a beautiful white flower.

The day she feared for her life came shortly after when she stepped out for a moment to get groceries. She was eyeing eggs, checking to make sure none of them were cracked when she heard two older women whispering about a missing co-worker. Writing it off as office gossip, she approached the counter and paid for her food. She was at the door when something she heard stopped her in her tracks.

“They say he had Hanahaki.”

“What? That’s impossible!”

“You and I both know that Hanahaki has never been cured. Only hidden.”

“I know that’s—we shouldn’t talk about this here. We don’t want to disappear like he did.”

Her suspicions had been correct all along, the government was hiding Hanahaki’s presence by taking anyone who presented symptoms. They were probably forced to undergo the procedure that cured them if her memory of that one dreadful day when she was hiding in the hospital was correct. The thought made her stomach sink like a rock, she couldn’t tell anyone. She was going to wind up dead one day and no one would know why.

When days bled into weeks, weeks into months, her disease only got worse. It became harder and harder to keep Soonyoung away. As he was actually a doctor he insisted on caring for her, persisted even. She had to refuse, she had to stay away from him. Because each moment she spent near him she could feel the flowers in her chest multiplying, like she was even in love with his presence. Why she didn’t tell him about what he was doing to her, why she didn’t finally tell him about the innocent petals that were slowly killing her, she would never know. He was the one person she could trust above all else.

“How’re you doing?” Soonyoung asked cautiously over the phone. “Any better?”

“Loads.” She lied easily. “I’ll be back in fighting form in no time. Just you wait.”

He sighed. “I really have no idea why you won’t let me take you to the doctor. You obviously need medical attention.”

“You know why.” She reminded him. “I’m—I’m terrified of doctors.”

“It would just be me!” He exclaimed, clearly frustrated. “I’d get you in and out of there quickly, no one would even know!”

Coughing and spitting a bloody petal into a tissue, she had to remain strong. “I’m sorry Soonyoung. I know you’re worried about me I just—I can’t.”

“Then let me take care of you at least.” He continued to push. “Let me stop by a couple of times a week to monitor your breathing. There’s no way this can be mono, I don’t care what you say.”

“Soonyoung—” She started, only to be interrupted by the flower crawling up her throat. “You really don’t need to do all that, I’m—I’m going to be fine!”

“I’d rather stop by and be completely sure.” He insisted. “Please, please let me do this. I’m practically tearing my hair out over here because I’m afraid that if I don’t hear from you for a day it’s because you finally coughed up a lung. Do it for me, do it so I stop driving Jimin crazy.”

She winced at the sound of her name. “Soonyoung, I don’t—I don’t think—”

“Please.” He begged her. “I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”

You’re going to anyway. She reminded herself morbidly with a sad smile. “I love you too. So—so if you want to stop by for a few minutes—”

“Thank you.” He interrupted. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you. I’ll be right there!”

Letting her hand drop into her lap, she couldn’t stop the tears that she had kept bottled inside. She loved Soonyoung, she loved him so much. The pain of Hanahaki didn’t compare to the ache in her heart. Sometimes she wondered how soon it would claim her. She had been suffering from Hanahaki for several months now, almost a whole year. And while some people had lived for a whole decade after they first noticed symptoms, others had passed in as little as three months. Where she would fall was a complete mystery, probably sooner than she hoped.

The next few weeks while Soonyoung examined her were perhaps the hardest yet. With him being so close to her, the vase of fresh lilies he brought with him resting peacefully on her nightstand, it was hard for her to breathe. Countless times to had to swallow a stray petal that threatened to expose the truth she was so terrified of. Her body was rebelling against her, the flowers he had given life to within her were desperate for him. It was a strange feeling, like they were actively reaching for him as if he were the sun.

“I brought you more lilies.” He said each and every day as he offered them to her. “They always seem to make you happy.”

Soonyoung smiled and her heart ached. It always did. He reached out for her and she could feel a lump forming in her throat. She could feel the flowers that blossomed within her chest threatening to spill forth and unveil her lies. But no matter how much it hurt, how much it pained her to keep this secret, she didn’t dare mare the beautiful lilies that Soonyoung loved so much.

“I love them.”

Eventually, with time, she was able to hide her symptoms better. She started going out in public, hung out with friends, things were almost halfway normal. Every now and again she’d have to excuse herself, the uncomfortable tightness in her throat got to be too much. But, other than that, she was fine. Soonyoung stopped worrying about her as much, life carried on. She even dared to hope that her condition was improving.

Apparently childish whims weren’t beyond her.

She collapsed one afternoon out on the busy street. Her lungs had either filled up with flowers or one had cut off oxygen to her brain. She only lost consciousness for a moment, but that was long enough for someone to call an ambulance. Hunched over, she coughed up a handful of lilies and immediately sprinted towards a dark alley. There was no way she was going to the hospital, she wasn’t going to give anyone the chance to remove the flowers from her lungs.

Sometimes she could swear she was beyond delusional. The notion that she’d rather keep the seeds of unrequited love in her chest than live a full life was absolutely ludicrous. Every day she reminded herself of this fact, logic and reason screamed at her to make the right decision. Still she refused. Because every single time her mind tried to convince her to save herself, her heart would ache thinking about how Soonyoung would never be able to make her smile again.

Her love for Soonyoung was more deep and more profound than she initially thought. It took time, but finally she realized how pivotal to her life he really was. He was the light that woke her up every morning, the star in the night sky that watched over her in her dreams. With just a smile he could lift her spirits, his laughter dried her tears. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, nothing she wouldn’t give. Soonyoung was, and will always be, the keeper of her heart. And the man who would kill her in a little over a year.

She tried to keep up appearance as best she could, but her condition was getting harder and harder to hide. The face mask she wore would often be spattered with blood, she could leave a meadow of lilies in her wake, she didn’t have much time left. And yet, despite all of that, she decided to stay by Soonyoung’s side. She continued to be his best friend until her very last breath.

“We’re getting engaged!”

When Soonyoung and Jimin invited her over for dinner, she didn’t expect to hear those words spill from his lips. She expected anything but. The pain she felt inside of her was different than before, it was—it was almost final. And she wasn’t sure if it was because her heart was breaking or because Hanahaki was about to overtake her. She did her best to smile as her ears began ringing uncontrollably and the room starting spinning. Her heart was racing, she was getting lightheaded, another handful of seconds ticked by and she collapsed to the ground. Soonyoung’s worried cries were the last thing she heard.

By the time she woke up, she was in Soonyoung’s car. She was splayed out on the backseat, blood pooled from her mouth and dripped onto the upholstery. Everything was a blur, she could barely see anything, her head ached terribly, and trying to sit up was perhaps the most agonizing thing she attempted in her entire life. Her body was revolting against her, she rolled onto her side and coughed up perhaps a dozen lilies all perfectly intact. All drenched in her blood.

“I need you to keep the drop off clear.” Soonyoung said to someone on the phone. “I have someone who needs treatment for Hanahaki now.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then two. Three beats later and she wasn’t completely sure if it had stopped entirely. She had to get out of the car, she had to run away. She wouldn’t be cured, she didn’t want to be. Mustering up all the strength she could, she reached for the door handle, her bloodied hands slipping against the cool plastic. Tears streaked her face, tears of desperation and fear, betrayal and heartbreak. Soonyoung was going to rip out her emotions without batting an eyelash. She found herself kicking the door in anger.

“Holy shit!” Soonyoung swore, clearly startled. “You’re—you’re awake? Oh thank God, are you okay?”

“Don’t take me to the hospital…” She begged him. “Please Soonyoung, don’t do this to me...”

“What the hell are you even saying!” He exclaimed. “If you haven’t noticed, you’ve been coughing up blood for the past hour! Of course I’m taking you to the hospital!”

She clenched her jaw when a large flower began pushing its way up from her lungs. “I—I don’t care… I can’t go to the hospital…”

“I’m not letting my best friend die from Hanahaki!” He shouted angrily. “Why didn’t you tell me that this was happening to you? Obviously you know that coughing up flowers isn’t natural!”

“I know…” She muttered weakly, her throat sore from her illness. “How do you—how do you know about Hanahaki? All of the information on it was destroyed…”

“I’m a doctor.” He halfway explained. “We know that Hanahaki wasn’t really cured, only prevented. I’ve—I’ve seen people with Hanahaki before, you don’t know how bad it can get. Watching someone’s chest ripped open and—it’s not something I ever want to see happen to you. I’m not going to let it happen. You need a doctor.”

She shook her head in defiance. “I don’t want to see a doctor, Soonyoung.”

“That’s only because you don’t know what’s about to happen!” He persisted. “You don’t know what it’ll do to you, what it’ll—”

“I know all about Hanahaki, Soonyoung…” She all but whispered. “I’ve—I’ve always known.”

Soonyoung eyed her in disbelief through the rearview mirror. “You’re telling me that you’ve known that you’ve had Hanahaki this whole time and you’ve done nothing about it? The procedure—”

“Isn’t worth it.” She interrupted bitterly. “How could you even think that?”

“And you think it’s worth dying for someone who doesn’t love you?” He offered in a snide tone. “Do you really love them that much?”

“Of course I do.” She answered with a sad smile. “Isn’t that obvious?”

Running a hand through his hair he sped through a red light. “I’m going to be honest with you, as your best friend, if they don’t love you then they’re not worth it. Don’t let some asshole end your life like this!”

“If he were an asshole it would be easier…” She offered quietly. “But I couldn’t see myself loving anyone else.”

He exhaled a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, you love him. You don’t want to get the procedure. I just—I can’t figure out why the fuck you didn’t tell me! I thought we were friends, best friends. I could’ve helped you through this!”

“I had my reasons…” She tried to deflect, tears stinging her eyes. “I—I had my reasons…”

“What reason is worth dying over!” He shouted, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. “I can’t believe you right now, I really can’t.”

Swallowing nervously, the pressure inside of her chest was almost too much for her to handle. “I’m—I’m sorry Soonyoung, I just—I know you love lilies. I didn’t want to ruin them for you.”

“What?” He questioned, obviously confused. “What the hell are you even saying—”

He was interrupted by the gut wrenching scream that escaped her lips.

“Oh no…” He muttered, realizing what that sound meant. “Fuck! I don’t care what you say, you’re getting the procedure. I’m not losing you because you keep deciding to be stubborn!”

“No!” She managed to shout through the pain. “Soonyoung, please! I can’t—”

As she lifted herself up, leaning over the center console just slightly, a dozen bloody lilies rose up from her lungs and spilled all over the arm rest. One after another they made the same sickening splat against the upholstery, one after another Soonyoung’s eyes contorted in a heartwrenching sadness. Because just one look at them and he finally knew the truth. He knew why she never confided in him. He knew that he was the one who was going to kill her in the end.

“Why…?” He asked no on in particularly, tears dripping from his chin as he pulled off the road. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wiping off her mouth, she still smiled. “I couldn’t put that burden on you. I—I know how much you love Jimin, I didn’t want my predicament sway you to do something stupid…”

“Like refuse treatment for a disease that is completely curable?” He seethed through his teeth. “I can’t believe this is happening, I can’t believe you would fall in love with me!”

She offered a weak laugh. “You can’t be surprised, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Putting the car in park, he pressed his palms into his eyes. “Please—please let me take you to the hospital. Please don’t make me the murderer of my best friend! I’ll—I’ll do anything! I’ll tell you that I love you, I’ll—I’ll—”

“Soonyoung…” She whispered, crawling into the front seat and taking his hand in hers. “I’m not asking you to love me, I would never do that to you because I know you never will. This wasn’t your fault, it’s not your fault that you are who you are. I don’t care that you don’t love me, I’m just begging you not to take away the love I have for you.”

His lower lip quivered as he looked at her. “I want to love you… I—I want to save you, but I—I—”

“Not everyone can be saved.” She gritted through her teeth, gripping his hand tighter than expected. “All you can do—all you can do is try your best.”

“I—” He practically whimpered. “I can’t let you die like this... I just can’t…”

As she rubbed her thumb against the back on his hand to comfort him, she could feel her ribs splintering. Like something was crawling out of her chest. It was like nothing she had ever felt before from Hanahaki, the pain was unbearable. She knew she only had minutes left.

“You’ve done everything you can.” She somehow managed. “I’ve—I’ve done everything I can. I tried so hard to move on from you—hngh!—I did everything that I could. Nothing I did made a difference. I didn’t care that it would kill me, I’d rather die than stop loving you.”

He reached out for her suddenly, pulling her back into him and wrapping his arms tightly around her. This was their goodbye, the goodbye she had been dreading for months. He sobbed freely into her hair, never letting go of her hand while despair shook his shoulders. In his arms she had never felt more at home, and more like a stranger. The one place she always wanted to be but the one place she never belonged. It was her last comfort.

The last thing she heard before she died was a sickening crack. It was instant, almost painless as the flowers he had planted in her lungs finally burst forth. His cries would’ve deafened her if she could hear. Her chest opened up, several dozen bright white lilies blossoming from her breast, and she was dead. The flowers that cursed her were positively breathtaking even as blood soaked the edges and poured from the open wound. She was beautiful, beautiful in a way no one wanted to admit. Even in death love made her beautiful.

He made her beautiful.

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