#thorns hanahaki disease

[ae-to-the-snow]

Yay! Okay then, if you feel ready/comfortable with it, please write some headcanons about Lumen and Thorns suffering from Hanahaki disease because of a gender neutral reader! With a happy ending if possible~

I hope that’s not too much to ask…

🐬anon!

Wahhh thanks to 🦁 anon I have not been the same oh my god... Writing this asap as I'm done with like one other req. Also this turned into it's own damn fic rather than a HC bruh

2nd part with Lumen! (Coming soon)

Red Anemones • Thorns with Hanahaki disease

Cw. Thorns x GN reader (separate), Thorns ANGST

Tw. Angst, Hanahaki disease, pining, angst with happy ending

Angst under the cut!!

Thorns...

Thorns never viewed himself as someone who could possibly entertain the idea of love. Hell he might not even think about it at all, only thinking that he'd never be in that place where lovers dance and hold hands. That place is meant for many, but not for him. Not when he's had blood on his hands, not when he will continue to stain himself, even if he didn't feel guilty about it.

But how is it that when he's with you, his cold and empty lab gets just a little bit warmer?

How is it that when he sees a sunset, he thinks of sharing the moment with you?

Why is it that he finds himself noticing, and feeling just a little bit empty, when you're not with him?

He's always felt a little bit empty. This can't be real.

One day when you're in his lab, excited to try out his new creation, it's there when he catches himself smiling, that he suddenly stopped and wondered what he was doing.

You were too occupied with the test vials to notice, the wide eyed look on his face and the way he covered his mouth, almost afraid, nervous, and shy.

He avoided you for a bit after that, unsure of what to do. He's always been the kind of guy to face his problems head on. But not this time. Not now. Now that it's you.

He finds himself spiraling in denial, not that he realizes it. Or does he just not accept it?

You confront him about why he ignored you a few weeks later, and he was upset. Hurt. Disappointed. In himself, that he hurt you, that he made you feel alone.

He apologizes, repeatedly. Whether you forgive him or not, you've never seen him like this. He was scared. Somehow. Composed but afraid, like he was calmly navigating through a field of landmines. His face is calm, but his voice wavers, and his legs were shaking.

However you react, when you finally leave, he has a moment to calm down and contemplate what happened. How could he ever feel this much pain and fear? It's not like you're scary. Hell, he enjoys being with you. You make him so happy, so safe and secure. What the hell is scaring him??

That's when he finds himself coughing up something red.

He didn't think anything could have been scarier to cough out of your throat other than blood.

But it terrified him even more to find a petal.

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Few days passed, he's calmed down. He knows this disease. He knows this. He knows the cure. He knows why he's afflicted with this disease. He knows. But his thoughts are messed up. He's thinking out of order. He's getting anxious.

He just doesn't accept it.

How could he ever be capable of love? How? And how could it be you?

The way you smile, it's imprinted in his brain. Your voice is music on its own, one that he'd dance to. And your heart... Just can't possibly be tainted by his.

That's why. He can't possibly be in love. Not with you. He doesn't deserve you. Not him. You don't need him. He should've stayed a spectator in your life. He shouldn't have gotten close.

Now it's hurting him. But he doesn't care about that. Because now that it hurt him, he either has to die, or hurt you in trying to live with it.

He tries so hard, desperately, to possibly create a cure for it. He's a genius pharmacologist. If it's any time he needs to shine, it's now.

But the only way to cure a disease is to get rid of the cause. And as much as he could get it removed...

He doesn't want to.

He's so scared. So scared of loving you. But he wants to. You're the closest thing he has to comfort, a constant in his life. The closest thing he has to being anything resembling a sunrise even in the bleak darkness he's known.

He wants to witness every moment you smile. He wants you to be there in his lab when he works on an experiment. He wants you to be there when he comes back from an operation.

He doesn't want to remove it and lose his love for you. He doesn't want to look at you, and see nothing. That scares him more than dying like this.

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Several weeks pass, and he hasn't gotten to the stage of coughing full flowers yet, but he is coughing multiple times a day. Ignoring and avoiding you became routine, and he starts to isolate himself more. He can't let anyone see this predicament that he can't understand himself.

But he can't fully avoid you, oddly enough no matter how big this landship is. Maybe he finds himself attracted to being with you regardless, always wanting to find you regardless. Cuz even if you're the reason why he's in pain at the moment, he seeks comfort in you, in just your presence.

He's learned to adapt to it a bit, even if it's painful. Knowing conveniently where the nearest bathrooms are in case he needs to let it out very quick, knowing where to hide if now is not a good moment cuz he's in pain. And even if everyone at Rhodes could know of his ailment, he'd do anything to keep you from knowing.

The only person that knows is Kal'Tsit, who did offer to remove it. But Thorns already knew it was a cure. And he has considered it. Upon hearing the offer, he didn't take a second to refuse it. Kal'Tsit didn't even ask why he refused. But she is surprised, to see even the great operator Thorns act this way.

To rather die than live without his feelings for you. Most would assume he'd choose to live. Even Thorns himself thought he would. It baffles himself more.

Knock, knock

Thorns doesn't even have to look to know who it was. You're the only person who could walk up to his lab casually. The bags under his eyes and his hair was so messy due to the stress he's facing lately. But thank goodness he's always like this, you likely will never notice.

"Come in, (reader)." He said without even looking up from his desk, focused on the reports he was writing.

"Thorns, what kind of experiment are you doing?" You asked, he just flicks his hand to tell you to come over, a gesture you're familiar with, since he's just telling you to come over and see for yourself.

It didn't really surprise you to see, it was another formula for painkillers. He's been working on these a lot lately, but every time you see it, the dosage and effectiveness becomes more intense and extreme.

Thorns doesn't say a word about it, acting like he's so used to it by now. The last time he made it, you asked, and he said it was a request from the Medical Department. But you know those painkillers aren't for oripathy, and what kind of pain would be so intense to need this amount of effectiveness?

You've never seen anyone use them, and you don't recall the Medical Department distributing these kinds of painkillers.

Wonder what he's even making them for, if his claim of it being for Rhodes Island was a lie.

"But I don't think the Medical Department needs a painkiller this effective..." You hum, and for a moment, Thorns gets anxious and wide eyed again.

"... It's for special care patients." He lied through his teeth.

And you knew. Something was wrong with him when he frequently avoided you on purpose. Not enough to ignore you, but enough to alert you of a change. Thorns wasn't the kind of guy who lies without good reason, but what could be a good reason to keep you from him, when he said that you matter most to him on this landship?

"...I know you're lying." You decide to confront him.

The way he shuddered is unmistakable. You're not mad. He knows you're not. He trusts you like that.

So why is he scared?

"Thorns... Is something wrong? I know there is something going on..." You hush, coming closer to him, and to your surprise he pushes his chest against the table very hard, as if he's choking. You swore you heard a ribcage break.

You screamed his name in worry at his sudden action and try to help, but he pushes you away with a shaking hand over his mouth.

The only thought in his mind at the moment was "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you. Please don't hate—" even through the painful coughing, he feels an entire flower stuck in his throat, his main concern was still, that he's gonna hurt you. And by seeing him like this, he's gonna hurt you more.

His mind is running. All thoughts occured except for the fact that his throat is immensely painful. This was supposed to be a secret... He hoped he'd be saved from his misery in some operation where he'd get cornered or something.

He prayed he'd be shot with an arrow or something. That one day his medicine can't save him, do he'd die without you finding out of his disease, cuz he knows you'd blame yourself. That's just the kind of person you are. The same selflessness that he has for just one person, just like him.

"AHHK—!"

Even the sound of his cough felt like doom. All you could do was watch for the first few seconds, confused. Yet something broke you out of it.

He doesn't care about the pain, not with that look in his eyes. He was just pleading for you to not worry, that he's alright, that you shouldn't worry.

"Please, AAHG—! I'll be oka— COUGH!!" His touch was no longer firm as he clawed at your clothes and got up despite his pain, looking at you in the eyes, to plead with you, to please, please don't ever worry about him. Don't be in pain, don't hurt, please don't suffer. Not because of him. He doesn't want to be the reason, you keep a fearful look on your face.

Seeing it made you more fearful broke him, when he realized he was only making you more afraid... He tries to stabilize himself, and hold your shoulders reassuringly.

He smiled, oddly anough. Through the flower that you can see clearly bloom in the back of his throat. It was terrifying. But he smiled, precisely so that he doesn't scare you.

"I'll be okay." He said with a smile, the kindest one ever. His eyes were glossy from the pain, and his throat could give out any moment, but did he care? All he wants to say is,

"Don't be afraid."

...who cares about the pain. Who cares about the tugging in your chest, knowing you're seeing someone you treasure so much smile at you so reassuringly and gently, to not hurt you even if he's in the most excruciating pain anyone can experience...

A single red petal falls out of his mouth, landing on your hand as he held you close.

Seeing you quiet and calmed down a bit, he falls to his knees, grabbing your hand for support, the petal caught between your touch.

He goes back to his coughing fit, truly in pain now, able to focus on it, now that he's confident, he's sure, that he made you sure.

His skin gets colder, and you snapped out of your trance to immediately call the medics with an emergency button on your person. You tell Thorns to hang on and stay with you, while you hold him and try to carry him to the medical room.

He coughs out a single flower, a big red flower with black in the middle. He can't recall the name at the moment. But it fell to the floor, probably will be cleaned up and thrown away soon.

Maybe it's just like him, if not, then it'll be his love for you.

His vision is blurred, it's fading, not that he really thinks about making through it. Even your voice is fading, and he slowly hears your screams fade.

Well

He's at least glad that you're the last thing he held so closely...

His eyes close, as the medical team arrives.

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"What a painfully bright light." was all he thought when he opened his eyes.

A familiar ceiling... The kind you see in medical establishments.

He got up. No one else in the room. Why was he here? Unsure. A medical room. That much is to be expected. The feeling of a needle stuck in his arm... Something happened, huh. He tries moving, but feels a sharp pain in his chest. Pulling the medical robe, he sees his chest wrapped in bandages from front to back.

...it oddly feels empty there... Odd. Very odd.

He can't feel a thing in his throat. Not a thing.

He tries to speak.

Nothing comes out.

CLANG!

A person opened the curtain... He turned to them.

"You..." He tries to recall to his best ability.

"Oh. (Reader)."

Nothing could have prepared him for how you immediately dropped to your knees and cried, not caring how it may have hurt your legs.

He wonders why, you're this way. He tries to ask, but his voice doesn't come out.

Suddenly seeing you cry, he remembers, all the things that happened.

He shouldn't be alive. Unless...

He's realized that he's looking at you, and seeing, feeling, the same emptiness in his chest. This was... What he feared.

His mouth opens, and he tries to scream, but nothing comes out. He doesn't feel that sharp pain of the flower and it's roots in his chest anymore.

This just can't be.

No

No No

No No No

No Can't be It can't be No

Please No tell me it isn't true

No No No, please. N

o Absolutely not. No No No

Please don't be true No

No No No No No No

No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No...!No No No No No No No No No No No NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO—

His hands flail out, held by the medical equipment tied into him. He needs to hold you, right now. And while he tries to escape the tubes and the uncomfortable bed, you rush in and hugged him, to his shock.

The tears coldly stain his shoulder through the medical robe. He wonders why you're crying, when he shouldn't. He knows why you're crying.

Is his love for you gone?

His mind tells him, that the only reason he's questioning it is because he's in denial out of fear of losing his feelings for you.

...

Yet you feel so warm...

He softly strokes your back, confused and taken aback by his feelings and confusion.

...your hair still feels nice to touch.

Your arms wrap around him so gently.

Yet you cry so hard, unleashing your pain onto him.

Yet you don't hurt him.

And it doesn't hurt him.

With all the evidence given... It's clear. The roots and the flowers of his one sided love is gone. His feelings... They should be gone. He shouldn't love you by now.

And yet the cold hospital room seems a lot more warner with you around. When his hand touches you, he doesn't feel it being lifeless. His hand is stroking you so gently.

You're in pain

Yet he feels loved.

...was the question ever meant to be, if he still loves you?

...or should it be, does he love you now?

Then the answer would be yes.

"...You must've been worried sick..."

"I wonder if you knew why, I felt like this. They probably told you. They probably told you why I coughed flowers whenever I'm around you."

"Yet all you care about, is that I'm okay."

"..."

He thought all of it to himself, but he desperately tries to tell you, every single thing on his mind. He doesn't even care about the disease, or the pain anymore, or the confusion that he still loves you, even after the removal of the very thing that was going to consume his heart.

After a while of staying like that, the medical staff enter the room to check on him. They determined that everything was alright, and that he'll heal normally if he stays here for a little bit longer.

As for his voice, it'll return soon enough after his throat heals from the damage.

The next day when you wake up Thorns to feed him breakfast, you see he was already up. On his notebook, he writes that he couldn't sleep cuz he was thinking of some things.

You chuckle, and tell him to get proper rest after this. Though it was normal he should be a little anxious, after what happened.

You recount the events of what happened to him. And he notices how you omitted the details that his pain was because of his love, and you didn't seem to know who it was for.

...seems Kal'Tsit kept her mouth shut on that one. Seems like something she would do.

He listens to you intently. Even if he doesn't nod or anything, the way his gaze remains glued to you tells him that he listens. The room is lively, warm and comforting, with just the two of you. Even if you're the only one talking, you're not alone at all.

He smiles slightly, staring at you in the light of his room.

"...after this. I need to explain everything." He thinks as he feels his swollen throat.

"After I heal. I'll definitely tell them everything."

It can't be a coincidence, that his love doesn't feel painful anymore now that you're here for him, loving him even if you're pained. You're loving him to heal that pain.

It can't be a mistake, not in his book.

"When my voice returns, the first thing I say to you will be: I love you."

End

This fic gave me brain damage/j

CREATIVE NOTES:

Explanation for some parts and the writing style I used:

Some text is coloured, to indicate Thorns' feelings toward you in that very sentence or action. Red is anxious, orange is alerted, and pink is sincerity.

I've been experimenting in this chapter to give you not just a verbal/literary emotionally experience, but also visually.

The long space and blank spaces in between the two parts where he passes out and wakes up in the medical room is purposely placed to keep you on your toes and anxious, anticipating if the fic ends there before you scroll and see the next paragraph making you jump. It worked on me idk if it worked on you. And I'm the writer dhsjdjjs

Lastly for the wall of text in colour when Thorns wakes up in the medical room, where it repeatedly pleaded "No"s. I made that on purpose with inspiration from the manga "The Summer Hikaru Died", where the illustrator uses a unique visual to indicate the character's feelings. I tried doing the same here, to really highlight his overthinking, anxiety and how crowded his mind is, unable to think clearly. Even you didn't read all the text likely, all you know is that he's desperate, just from the visuals.

Anyways ty for reading! I had fun writing this cuz it was really outside of my comfort zone. Lumen is next and I'll link the post to this one. I hope you liked it, and please give me feedback on the writing style if you have anything to say about it!

[wonderouslow]

[eemoo1o-animoo]

I’m glad pluto died.

[knightinink]

Do you have any dip hanahaki disease headcannons?

Ooh this could actually go along with my Damien hc's nicely! Lets get this one rolling! 🌹🌷

-Okay so I feel that it would affect Damien more than it would affect Pip, since he would be less likely to confess his feelings & let them bottle up. Going off of another post of mine where I (kinda) talk about how Damien's mean & evil persona is just a front because he's scared & insecure underneath it all, & he's afraid of what could happen if people were to see his more vulnerable & sensitive side. He wants to be soft & tender, but he doesn't know how to express this to Pip, so he just keeps it inside.

-At some point, the demon notices that he has a bit of a hard time breathing, but doesn't think too much of it. That silly disease couldn't be real, right? It was just some stupid folktale! Something made up to scare people!

-A few weeks go by, & it's becoming more & more difficult for the demon to breathe, & he's horrified when, while he's roughly coughing into the bathroom sink, a repeating sharpness feels like its poking into his throat & he quickly falls to his knees, knuckles white as he grips the edge of the toilet bowl, & hacks up whatever he's now choking on.

-He's finally able to cough up whatever felt like it was shredding his throat, & as he blinks tears out of his eyes, he zeros in on the small bundle of about 5 red roses, thorns shining crimson with his blood, & turning the water slightly pink. Eyes widening in horror, he falls back onto his butt, his breathing picking up as he begins to panic, & a taste of nature floods his mouth as he clenches his teeth shut; the roses have left their vines, & they have rooted into his lungs quite nicely, not intent on letting go.

-He would hide this from his father & Pip of course, but he wouldn't be able to for very long.

-Pip meanwhile keeps coughing up pink tulip petals every now & then, but they always eventually cough up all wilted, as Pip is thoroughly convinced that whatever romantic interest he's ever had will not come to be, as he is simply not capable of being loved; everyone in his upbringing had reminded him oh so many times of this. It was true with Estella, & it was true with Herbert (bless him!), that whenever Pip would finally decide to get close, he would end up convincing himself that he wasn't worth their time, that he would be bothering them, & would back out.

-This would continue... except for when it came to Damien.

-There was something within the Brit that just wouldn't let the demon go from his mind, & ever since then the petals would come up flourishing, no longer in their dreary, wilted state. About a week had gone by when the first full flower had shown up, a soft pastel pink, petals open in all their beauty. Pip was horrified.

-More time would go by & the confession would come first from Damien, who is being drowned from the inside by his own blood, as there is a full rose bush growing in & around his chest & chest cavity, the thorns ripping through the tender flesh. Pip would be in shock, completely oblivious to the fact that the feelings he had harbored for the demon laying his head in his lap as he lay dying, had been returned this entire time.

-Damien would just laugh in a fuzzy sense of warmth, as well as the irony of being killed by something of his namesake. He would ask Pip to kiss him, the latter obligingly leaning down to do so, & presses a tearful kiss to the demon's bloodied lips. Their lips are lightly pushed apart as a red rose & a pink tulip come to the surface, brushing against each other tenderly, before they melt into a kiss of their own.

-When Pip breaks from the kiss, he's met with glazed-over eyes that were once as vibrant as the blood that he could still taste on his lips. He brushed a hand delicately over the rose & the tulip. then brushes the hair away from the demon's face so he could see all of him more clearly. Pip choked back a sob.

-Damien was gone.

[gamblersdoll]

IT'S THE MATTER OF IT.

summary: after dying of hanahaki disease, youre reincarnated.. but you are the past lover of the king of curses.

WARNING: story contains sexual content, blood, gore, death of reader in first half.

"sukuna-sama." she said, bowing to the tallest man she's ever seen. she wasnt too afraid of him, but she gave him his respect he required.

"Y/N." he said, looking down at her. "are you still sick?" he asked, almost sounding worried.

was he even caring... of course not. he is sukuna after all.

"yeah. im not sure why." she said, shaking her head in a light chuckle. "ill be okay though."

"if you say so, Y/N." he said, turning his focus to uraume. the voices of the person you loved and cared for, and the person you were acquainted with drowned out.

if only you knew.

coughing violently, you covered your mouth and witnessed a petal falling into your hand.

you're fucking with me.. right?

you couldn't allow sukuna to witness that, then he'd either call you pathetic or actually showing true concern and hunting down whoever you were in love with and making them pay. but the first thought was that he truly wouldn't care.

or so you thought when you landed in a bedridden state, the flowers consuming your lungs and making it up to your esophagus and eyes, almost not being able to speak nor see.

"why on earth didn't you say anything? you know how dangerous this is!" uraume screamed, worried that their friend would die– no, you were dying for certain. you couldn't tell sukuna that you loved him. otherwise, he'd laugh.

"its... fine." you whispered, only a whisper is what you could do. or risk you damaging your throat from the thorns. "where is ryo..?" you asked, barely seeing uraume's white and red hair.

"he said he was coming, I don't know y/n..." they said, raking their hands through your locs, the locs that sukuna somewhat admired.

"is it okay if I nap? getting really sleepy." you asked , smiling softly until you again, violently coughed up blood and flower petals.

"... yeah." uraume said, leaving you to yourself. they walked out the room to see sukuna, conversing with him about you. how bad have you gotten? he didn't know.

he doesn't care.

the door opened and closed slowly, revealing a flower consumed you, your eyes have flowered out, but still managing to speak.

"who is it." he asked, glooming over you with worried eyes, but filled with.. rage? you didn't know. you couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"i..." you trailed off, wondering if it was worth telling him. you decided against better judgment, coughing for a bit until you could feel yourself slipping away from life, deciding it was time.

"you." you had said, "it was you...." until you took your last final breath, the prettiest, bloodiest flower consuming you whole , sprouting out your mouth, and eventually, your heart stopped beating. all your warmth had gone away.

sukuna stood there with a blank expression, his hands did tremble a bit, but only for a few seconds in counting. he thought about pumping your heart, but he knew by his strength and anger, he'd crush your ribs, stabbing through your lungs from the brutal force he'd press onto you.

"ill make you pay for putting me in such a position like this, you damned woman."

—————————————

"y/n, these are your classmates slash partners, nobara , megumi, annndddd... yuuji!" gojo had announced, clapping his hands together in glee. "y/n and yuuji, you'll be great friends!"

"why would we be." you deadpanned, folding your arms and tapping your foot. "why are you so excited anyway? it's nine in the morning."

you felt a pair of eyes on you, it felt... dangerous. like a curse is watching you. you didn't recognize them, but yuuji gave you the friendliest smile and shook your hand, while in sukuna's domain, he peaked through yuuji's cheek.

there is no way you're here, you damned woman.

[weebsinstash]

HMMMM. You know what I've never written for, stories OR drafts or prompts or posts. Hanahaki disease!!!

Your yandere is absolutely freaking the fuck out because you're choking up flowers, vomiting on thorns, choking, gagging, blood and petals dribbling down your chin, you're getting sicker, weaker, DYING, but you won't share ANYTHING WITH THEM. They have NO IDEA who it is you love and it's driving them INSANE because one you're DYING and two.... oh. So you. Love someone else. Ok... well. All you need to do to be cured is confess to that person, right? Your 'true dedicated love' can always swoop in afterwards, or so they try to tell themselves...

They're just watching you wither away, you looking absolutely heartbroken, and worst of all, you're starting to AVOID THEM. They're having to stalk you, more than usual anyways, just to check in on you, make sure you're still doing ok, still ALIVE--

Eventually you're laying there in the hospital, at death's door, and your yandere, someone you've known and trusted for some time now, is just, ready to start bawling their eyes out at your bedside as you can barely breathe, begging begging BEGGING you to tell them who you love so they can bring them to you, so you can live, like this is SO AVOIDABLE WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO YOURSELF and your "beloved" is so tormented by the fact they're watching you wither away and they can't do ANYTHING and--

you just. Weakly reach over and grab their hand. and you stare right at them with your big sparkling crying eyes and quivering lips even as more petals and pollen slip out with your breaths,

"but then you'll leave"

and that's when your yandere figures out, oh, it's THEM that you love, and you were willing to die with your secret just to avoid hearing 'no', being alone, not having THEM, losing THEM--

You're laying there feeling the pain and the aching slowly fade from deep inside your withered body, barely energized enough to feel shame, so weak, so vulnerable, and, of course you'll need someone to look after you while you recover, and here's your loyal friend, clutching your hand so desperately, and unlike all of your deepest fears, they're not going anywhere or rejecting you in the slightest. I mean... you might as well have just PROPOSED to them, declaring your love and all, so, surely you won't mind if your crush, who was secretly significantly more mentally unhinged than you were could have imagined, moves you into the perfect scale replica of your bedroom that they have in their house, right? Since you two love each other, you're gonna get married as soon as possible and live together, right? What's that? You're a little turned off by finding out they have stalker shrines of you? Haha, you must still be light-headed from all that coughing! You can't LEAVE YOUR SOULMATE, that's so silly! let them tuck you into bed and get you some pills and they can cuddle you to sleep during your first official night together--

[merakiui]

victorian era doctor riddle rosehearts and his darling patient suffering from hanahaki disease.

dr. rosehearts who is the finest medical practitioner in town, renowned for his expertise and intelligence in the field. so it's only fitting that, as a noble and only child hailing from a wealthy set of parents, you are given the best treatment available. riddle sees so many affluent families and so you're no different. this disease, however, is an oddity. it's very scarcely documented in old texts, and most of the information regarding it has been lost to time. supposedly, the cure to this flowery ailment remains unknown. for riddle, this is as much of a challenge as it is an inspiration. he will cure you; that's his promise as a proud doctor.

so to better monitor you and keep track of your condition, riddle suggests you be moved into his home. a temporary arrangement, of course. it's not nearly as grand as what you're used to, but it is quite spacious. it's half hospital and half home, a place in which patients come to him. for isolation purposes, if their illness is particularly dangerous, amongst other reasons. and what reason would anyone have to doubt the great dr. rosehearts?

your parents are desperate. they'll do anything if it means you'll stop coughing up petals or complaining of a throat scratched sore by persistent thorns. riddle collects samples of the petals in hopes that the town's botanist rollo flamme can identify the exact species, where it commonly grows, how to safely manage it, and so on. it's a peculiar case, one riddle has only ever spied remnants of in old notes.

you rely so heavily on dr. rosehearts, your way of life compromised. you beg him to help you, to get rid of whatever's causing this. it takes time, but rollo identifies the flower. it's a curious finding. such a flower is not native to this part of the country. in fact, there should be no reason for it to be here, for it cannot thrive in this type of environment. riddle is left puzzled. just how did such a flower find its way into your system? what is sustaining it? is it sapping your life away? so many questions arise, yet none can be answered in full.

most importantly, what does the timeline look like if death looms on the horizon? how long does he have before the worst strikes?

it has been some time and, though he knows he ought to remain impartial, dr. rosehearts has found himself infatuated with his poor patient. he tends to you like one might a rose in a garden, diligently and ever so carefully, pruning away signs of sickness in order to keep you somewhat healthy. it feels inevitable, even more so when your legs give out and, much to your horror, little branches with tiny leaves begin to poke through your ankles.

so now you're placed in a wheelchair, and that is that. most days he thinks you're more doll than human, especially since your spirits seem far more dampened than they once were. you wither in your chair, quiet and wistful, longing for good health. though it's in his profession to save, he's never seen you in a more beautiful state. like a statue doomed to exist in stiff silence. like a single flower struggling to brave harsh conditions. like a doll destined to be taken care of by his gentle, capable hands.

he was never allowed dolls as a child. such toys were distracting according to his mother. but now he has one for himself and, even if he thinks himself too old to play with dolls, you're one he just can't put down.

perhaps it's for the best that your legs are broken and your lungs are weak and your entire body is supported by this parasitic plant. with this, he's given the chance to finally indulge in one of the many things he was denied as a child.

the appeal of a doll is that they are versatile. they can wear an entire wardrobe of clothes. they can be bent into various positions. they can look upon you with glass eyes and smile with rosebud lips. and they can't speak. never speak!

riddle doesn't need to be traditional for something so unethical. weddings and rings and courtship mean everything in his dreams, but he is a man watered with logic and sensibility. and you are just a quiet, fragile rose drowning in unwanted, suffocating affection.

[chibipeachu]

Painful Petals | Aleksander. M

A/N: Its based off that one tik tok audio Warnings: softer!aleksander? Fem!Reader WC: 1485

Part two

You smiled at genya as she fiddled with your hair.

“What is it?” She questioned with a small, tired smile. “I’ll miss this with you genya…” She tilted her head to the side curious at your words.

“You’ll just be moving rooms after the fete, not like you’re going away….you’re not leaving, right..?” She questioned.

“No, but it’ll be a bit different around the palace after tonight..” You trailed off, thinking of a certain newly found couple in the little palace that included your husband.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As genya walked out of your room and towards Alina she ran into aleksander who paced around the halls.

“Ms Saffin.” He greeted.

“General.” She nodded back. As she went to turn into alina’s room she stopped in front of the doors and turned to aleksander.

“Is lady kirigan alright?” She questioned, making aleksander raise his head and look at genya with an unreadable expression.

“Why do you ask?” 

Genya shrugged.

“Just seemed off this morning.” She said before walking into alina’s room to get her ready for the fete.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You looked at your dress with a heavy heart, it wasn’t your husband’s black, it was a dark green gown. 

Tears fell as you looked over your closet and noticed the farthest item in the back being your wedding kefta. 

You sighed before wiping away the tear and closed the closet doors before walking towards your bed and opened the nightstand.

WIth shaky hands you pulled out an old journal, you flipped through pages til you found your desired page.

“Hanahaki Disease | Death do you part.” 

Your tears fell down your face as your felt a dreadful cough crawl up your throat.

It had begun before alina had arrived to the little palace, when aleksander hid his affair with zoya from you. 

You noticed in the beginning you delt with weird petals in your coughing fits, you had panicked and ran to a healer where they claimed you as fine.

The second thing you took note of was when you had coughed up flowers buds and thorns mixed in.

When you had discovered the journal you had been tempted to hide it away, it wasn’t till you had hard time breathing properly you went back to the journal to read the rest, you had learned of your condition and kept in silent, it was already hectic with the new sun summoner around.

You had brokedown when you found out the outcome of your illness, you had grown to accept your fate, who knew possibly the saints were going to reward you for being brave by dealing with the illness by giving you a loving life in the next.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You smiled as you greeted guests who passed by you.

“That’s general kirigan’s wife, poor thing hasn’t got a clue..” Two ambassadors gave you pity looks as they noticed zoya walking by aleksander who spoke ivan and feydor.

“Saints, bless her..” They whispered as you excused yourself to walk over to aleksander.

“Gentlemen.” You greeted, making them turn to you and greet you back.

“May i steal him away for a bit?” You questioned, your arm looping aleksander’s for support.

“Of course, lady kirigan!” You smiled and walked yourself and aleksander to the nearest balcony.

“You look nice tonight, aleksander..” You smiled as him as you let yourself go from his arm and held onto the balcony railing.

“You as well.” He looked around the balcony and noticed your gaze on the dark sky.

“I still remember when you snuck us out to see the stars..” You chuckled to yourself.

“You remember that?” Alexander asked, surprised.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“I don’t we should be doing this, what if we get caught by someone, we don’t have a chaperone..” You rambled as aleksander helped you onto his horse. 

“Well, i’m their general..” He tried to argue back.

“Oh my bad, you’re the general, that changes the story now!” You both laughed as he had the horse trott through the forest.

“Where are we even going?” You questioned, looking around at the passing trees.

“You mentioned, the palace grounds were always to lit to see the stars.” He turned his head to see your embarrassed expression.

“You remembered?” You smiled as he slowled the horse down and helped you get down.

“Why are you surprised?” He chuckled as you looked at the sky with a wide grin.

You both had sat on the grass and watched the stars for a bit before your spoke up.

“No ones snuck me out of my room to show me stars, thank you aleksander..” You turned your head to him where he smiled at you.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Had a hard time explaining why I had grass stains on my nightgown..” you both laughed at your words.

Before aleksander could say anything else, ivan came to tell aleksander of the lantsov’s.

“If you excuse me..” You grabbed aleksander’s kefta sleeve.

“Before you go, i just wanted to tell you, that you were a wonderful husband experience..” you smiled, sadly at him.

“Thank you, now i must go greet the lantsov’s.” 

You left go of his hand with a heavy sigh, you quietly stood out on the balcony, weeping at your upcoming fate.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As you walked into the palace you watched as alina and aleksander do their demonstration.

You felt your stomach twist as you caught the way he stared at her, it was how he looked at you during your wedding.

Without anyone noticing you had ran to your new room, all of your things had been put away and set in their correct spots.

Finally being alone in your room, you broke down.

You cried over the lost of your marriage, your husband and soon your life.

You had questioned why the saints were torturing you by the thoughts of your husband with alina or zoya.

A rough cough came out of your mouth, bloody rose buds fell out of your mouth along with petals and thorns.

You gasped as it got stuffier in your lungs to breath properly.

Your eyes watered as you fell to your knees, giving up as a rose blossomed out of your throat, choking you out.

Your times with aleksander fled your mind as you laid on the floor, accepting your fate.

He was a wonderful experience.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

A scream from down the hall made alina and aleksander jump from their position on the war table.

As the pair tried to brush it off a rapid knock on the doors made aleksander sigh and moved away from alina to answer.

“Yes, what is it?” Aleksander was taken back, it was a tearful genya and sorrow looking feydor who stood in front of him.

“Lady kirigan…” genya broke down as she tried to explain it.

“We’re sorry…lady kirigan has..passed on.” Feydor explained, aleksander stood up at the news.

“Excuse me?” He questioned. 

The pair lead him to your room, where the servants had laid you in your bed, ivan watched over with a pitiful expression.

Aleksander walked over towards your bed and noticed the curtains surrounding the bed were drawn closed.

He drew back the curtain and froze at the sight of your body. 

There you laid, lifeless. A bloody rose blossomed out of your mouth, ivan had been the one to shut your eyes to let your rest.

“What happened to her?” He questioned, his hand running to your hand were is was barley warm anymore.

“A servant found her on the ground with bloody flower petals and thorns around her..” Ivan explained.

Aleksander kept his eyes on the rose. “Everyone out.” He commanded, his voice wavering a tad.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Once the door had shut, he let tears fall as he held your hand.

“I had just seen you hours before, you were fine..what happened?!” He ranted, shaking your hand, hoping for you to stir and tell him it was a cruel harsh joke.

Memories of you played in his mind as he held your hand to his cheek.

“You look nice tonight, aleksander..” You smiled as him as you let yourself go from his arm and held onto the balcony railing.

“You as well.” He looked around the balcony and noticed your gaze on the dark sky.

“I still remember when you snuck us out to see the stars..” You chuckled to yourself. It was nice to hear your laughter again.

“You remember that?” Alexander asked, surprised. It had been years since. 

“I had a hard time explaining why I had grass stains on my nightgown..” you both laughed at your words.

Before aleksander could say anything else, ivan came to tell aleksander of the lantsov’s.

“If you excuse me..” You grabbed aleksander’s kefta sleeve. 

“Before you go, i just wanted to tell you, that you were a wonderful experience..” you smiled, sadly at him.

“Thank you, now i must go greet the lantsov’s.” He rushed off, unbeknown to him, it would be the last time he left you behind.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“You were, my everything.” He whispered quietly.

[adventuringblind]

White Clover

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Childhood crushes are normal. Max has been racing for a while now, he's a world champion, it's only natural they would look up to him. It wasn't supposed to go this far...

Warnings: Hanahaki disease, authors limited knowledge of flower language, sickness, Oscar and Reader literally deteriorating, blood,

Notes: One of my favorite tropes! I hope le requester likes it! Hoping to get some loscar comfort out soon!

Side Note: Reader drives for Aston Martin in place of Lance

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really doesn't make sense in her head. Every time she tries to rationalize it, the answers come up even more ridiculous then the last.

It's always been her and Oscar, Chasing their dream together. It was meant to be, it had to be destiny with the way the two of them fit together so naturally.

Then Max Verstappen happened. A supposed childhood crush. Then a hero they looked up to. Then a rival in their sport. It was supposed to end with that.

Her and Oscar and their weird fascination with Max Verstappen.

Then there was a shift. Suddenly Max was acknowledging their existence. He was talking to them, giving them pointers, including them in the usual playful Max like banter. Their mutually discussed respect for Max turned into a full blown crush.

Not a small crush either. The kind that has them both fumbling around him.

Lando is no help either. He picks up on it immediately. Teases them about it relentlessly.

They are sitting in Oscar's driver room when it happens. The first of many coughing fits as Lando is trying to cheer them up. Because Max is with Kelly; It would never work. They don't even know if he would be into it.

She starts it. Hacking up a storm and Lando and Oscar trying to get her to take water. Oscar starts up a minute later.

The cough up white clovers. Small ones, but a handful.

Lando looks at them sympathetically. All three to in shock to say anything.

"There is no way this is real, right?"

~~~~~~

It is, in fact, very real. The tiny white clovers continue for about a month. Frequently enough that when their helmets come off, they tumble onto the ground.

Being around max makes it better. The ache in their chests lessens enough to breath deeply again.

Then it switched on them. Gone were the little white clovers. Now there were bigger pink camellias. A longing for Max that they didn't know they had.

They lay in bed for most of the winter break. The toll this stupid disease is having doesn't feel fair.

Both of them stare at their breakfast. Neither wanting to eat knowing it'll be a waste.

"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer..." She trails. Both of them know what's going to happen sooner or later, but losing the memories they do have feels worse.

Oscar sighs, having weighed the options on numerous occasions. "Lets give it until Australia. My mum knows a doctor who'd be willing to do it privately and make sure it doesn't get out."

"Will she make us food while we recover too?"

"I highly doubt she'll let us move until we're cleared."

~~~~~~

Pre-season testing - for lack of a better phrase - fucking sucks. They've moved onto red roses. The thorny kind that catches in their throats. She didn't realize it until she was coughing in the car again and it burned more then normal.

She hustles her car into the pits and stumbles her way through the garage until she can't keep herself up anymore.

The stem that comes up with the full rose is speckled with thorns that catch on things as she pulls it out.

She's so lost in trying to get it out, that she didn't notice who had come in. A hand rubs her back and moves any loose hairs away from her face.

The drops of blood mixed with bile causes the panic to finally set in. Her body gives out, but her teammate is there to get her sitting upright.

"Do I want to know who it is?"

"Just need Osc, please."

Fernando leaves to track down Oscar and ends up coming back with both McLaren drivers in tow. The Aussie doesn't look like he's fairing any better then herself. Paler than usual and still coughing.

"If Max doesn't get his act together then I'm going to run him off at turn one." Lando, their self designated caretaker, sets about getting her cleaned up since Oscar look seconds away from passing out.

"He doesn't have to, not like Max would want us anyway-"

"Oscar Jack Piastri, I swear if I have to listen to anymore of your self-loathing I will tell Max myself." Since when did Lando become a mom? "Plus, he does. He won't shut-up about you two. Daniel is losing his shit and begging him to just end it with Kelly if he adores you two so much!"

Fernando ends up driving them back to the hotel.

~~~~~

Being in Australia with Oscar has always been something to look forward to. This time feel more like dread and guilt.

Telling their teams had been the easiest part. The off week after Australia will be for recovery. It almost made her cry with how supporting they were.

They just have to get through the weekend now... and hopefully avoid Max in the process. The harder part of this whole thing. Specifically when he won't leave them alone.

It's during the drivers parade that everything goes downhill. They are standing in Max's vicinity, Landing becoming a wall between them and Fernando keeping him occupied. It's helping ease the weight in their chests and burning in their throats.

Max, inevitably, makes his way over to them and starts up conversation. Only it doesn't make the pain better this time. The second he starts up conversation she feels the rose blooming in her lungs.

"How have you two been?" Max is awkwardly stammering his way through pleasantries with Oscar while she chokes back her coughs. She throws Lando a pleading look, trying to get him to understand what's happening.

"Doing pretty well, you?" She can hear the strain in Oscar's voice, but he's holding it together. Unlike her, apparently.

She stays silent the rest of the parade. Unable to tune into the rest of the conversation.

Her physio is there waiting for her when she gets back to the garage. The amount of blood she loses is concerning. The bundle of roses makes her want to scream.

Something isn't right. Her body is screaming at her not to move. The flowers refusing to stop.

She doesn't know how Oscar manages to finish the race. He looks miserable when he meets her at the car. Lando has an arm slung around his shoulders to keep him upright.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to Max first?"

"What would we even say, Lan? That he's the reason we're dying?" Oscar slides into the back with her. Nicole sits in the drivers seat and Chris on the passenger side. They get sympathetic looks from both of them.

"I mean he broke up with Kelly-"

"Lando, we appreciate what you're doing but it's to late for this. We are knocking on deaths door and we'll still have each other. We'll be okay." She tries her best to comfort the worries Brit.

"Promise."

"Pinky."

The car ride is painfully silent. Not like either of them can talk anyway. It's just her and Oscar wrapped around each other as much as they can be.

They enter the hospital with fingers intertwined. They sit together in a private room waiting for the pre-op to start. A hard decision but one they know had to be made.

"Is it bad, that I don't want to forget?" She peers up at Oscar through watery eyes.

He sighs, the heavy kind followed by another cough. "No, I don't want to either."

She feels like falling asleep in Oscar's arms. Pretending that this isn't what's happening. That she's not growing flower bushes in her body. That she'll remember Max when she wakes up in a few hours.

"At least we get the next week off."

"Nando said he's going to drop some kind of care package off later." She laughs, remembering how he'd fussed over them with homemade remedies. "And Mark, I thought he was going to lose it when you handed him a rose."

"The look on his face was priceless!"

They can do this. They have each other and that's all they need.

Then the door bursts open.

"Max?"

~~~~~~

It's not like he thought he would ever find himself in this situation. Smitten with two of the younger drivers and driving himself insane by not confronting his own feelings.

He tried his best to just be friendly and leave it at that. He invited them to do things with the other drivers, struck up conversation, did his best to give them tips for their driving when he had the opportunity.

But the two of them have Max wrapped around their fingers. Both are smart and intuitive. They think he's funny. Max also thinks they are funny and compliment each other well.

This cannot be a normal kind of attraction... Right? No, it's not. It's the whole reason he had to split with Kelly because he knew this went much deeper then he wanted to admit.

The last minute driver change took him off guard. Then he saw Oscar on the grid talking to Lance. The Aussie looking miserable and on the brink of falling over.

He jogs up to Lando, concern lacing his facial expression. "What's going on? Why the last minute driver change?"

"She's sick." Lando doesn't look at him, anxiously fiddling with his fingers while getting ready. "She's been sick so they had a contingency just in case."

"And Oscar?"

"... Also sick."

Obviously Lando isn't telling the whole truth. If the lack of details is anything to go by. "Are you going to tell me with what?"

And Lando is a terrible liar. Max has known him long enough to read his expressions. "The flu?" Max raises his eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay but if i tell you then you can't say anything because it's really bad."

Max gives him a confirming nod. Not like he wants to spread gossip about the two.

"It's hanahaki, but they should be better soon. Surgery is after the race today. She's our due to blood loss and Oscar is nearing that point but determined to race."

Max gapes. What is his reaction supposed to be? "Do they not love each other?"

Lando rolls his eyes. "Max - there is a third that they are both in love with."

"Who is it because I swear-" Maybe anger wasn't the right emotion to have given Lando's annoyed huff.

"It's you! You're just so oblivious that you didn't notice. You were with Kelly so long and they didn't want to make things weird for you that they didn't say anything."

Max gets two steps towards Oscar before he's being shoved into the car. Forced to race despite being able to fix the problems of two people. He’ll just find them afterward.

He, unfortunately, does not escape the people wanting to speak to him. By the time he ends up at the McLaren garage, Lando looks miserable sitting on a counter and swinging his legs. “You just missed them.”

Max deflates to the floor. It looks obnoxiously dramatic and leaves Lando to huff at the scene. “Relax, you can catch them at the hospital if you’re quick enough.”

Lando ends up driving because he’s in no state to do it himself. The anxiety he’d been fighting off is hitting full force now. Enough to make his entire body shake.

He dives out of the car. Disregarding the fact that the sleeves of his race suit are hanging off his waist and nearly collides with the ground because of it.

Oscar’s parents are in the waiting room. They look at him with the most aghast looks he has ever seen. “What are you doing here?” The death glare Nicole is giving him strikes fear into his heart.

“I need to know where they are, please.”

“Now you want to see them?”

Chris puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “They are getting prepped for surgery at the moment. You might be too late.” He gives Max a sympathetic smile.

“Please-“ desperation is evident in his voice. “-please, I love them back. I have to try!”

He gets the room number and continues his sprint to the pair. The weight of possibilities comes crashing down on him, that they might not remember him if he is too late.

Times he went to them when he didn’t want to be alone.

When he sought them out at the bars and clubs when Lando subsequently ditched them.

Dragging them around Monaco when they were there for the Grand Prix.

Max should’ve made himself think about it. How he spent hours with them when he didn’t have to.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the door when he gets there. He slams the door open wide and almost sobs in relief when he sees them still waiting.

While her face is buried in Oscars shoulder, the Aussie is staring right at him. “Max?”

He takes a tentative step forward but stops when they both start violently coughing. “Sorry - I’ll stay over here.”

“What ever are you doing here?” The rasp is her voice makes him flinch. It’s scratchy, like her throat has been torn to pieces.

“I just - Lando told me what’s been going owns I know it’s not fair that I’ve made you suffer for so long.” He wants to get closer, hold them, provide them comfort. “It took me too long to get my shit together but, I love you both.”

Oscar tentatively tries to get up, the female not able to move without falling over and the Aussie in no position to carry her. Max lunges forward to catch him when he stumbles and down to the floor they go.

Max attempts to get him back up, but isn’t fast enough when the female slides down to join them. They end up falling asleep against him, breathing evenly.

They stir when the doctor announces himself, but don’t move from their spots. Max assumes that they are exhausted from coughing up literal flowers.

“This was not what I expected to find.” There is an amused tone in the doctor’s voice. “I take it you were the one?”

“Yeah, that would be me.”

“Well, we’ll keep them for observation and make sure any lingering thorns don’t do anymore damage. Would you be alright saying near them?”

Max nods hastily, eager to do whatever is necessary.

The hardest part is actually getting them to let go of him. The second he retracts contact is the moment they start panicking and coughing again. It’s a stressful few hours until it dies down again.

Nicole and Chris look ecstatic to see the three of them together. They’ve informed her parents about the change in plans and are also happy to know they’ve had a good outcome.

The residual flower petals come in waves, but they are dying down in intensity. The painkillers they are on make them wake up with dopey smiles on their faces.

“Hey Max?” She whispers. The three of them laying in the hospital bed together despite it being cramped and having a second one.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks…” The drowsiness in her voice evident.

“For what?”

Oscar is somewhere between asleep and maybe consciouses. “For noticing us.”

[pandoa]

every piercing petal

when they find you suffering from the hanahaki disease

~headcanons~ ~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~ warnings: angst, mentions of blood, a little cursing

requested by @miriamladyvoid~✰

he stays with you. he sees the blood drip from each pastel-colored flower, noticing the way each cough from your now frail body pains you with every breath, and stays by your side. he may not know how to help, but the least he could do was wrap his own arms around you in comfort, right? he sits you down as you choke out the few petals that had still been stuck within your throat as a gentle hand innocently caresses up and down your back. leaning your head on his shoulder, he lets you rest yourself against him as if any form of sympathy would alleviate the pain in your chest. he asks no questions from you. he only wants to surround you in feelings of comfort.

riddle rosehearts, cater diamond, TREY CLOVER, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, VIL SCHOENHEIT, rook hunt, LILIA VANROUGE

he wants to find the bastard who broke your heart. who would break you so horribly to make literal flowers grow in your lungs? just who was this person anyway? he walks in and sees you bent over your own knees as you choke on the thorns that scratched your throat, trying to deal with the grief all on your own. he becomes angry that someone would make you go through such suffering. and so, he made it his goal to find the jerk that did this to you. even if the whole idea seemed too reckless. it just wasn't fair. why did you have to ache over something you just couldn't control? all because you were so innocent enough to fall in love? to him, this disease wasn't a sickness. it was a curse. and he knew you didn't deserve it at all.

ace trappola, epel felmier, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, malleus draconia

he wishes to help you heal. even if it seems like it's hopeless. there has to be some sort of remedy to this. whether it's trying to help you gain the affections of the one you loved or searching high and low for a possible antidote, he does his best in attempting to expel the vines that wrap around your lungs. he plays cupid, matchmaker, scavenger, and even potion-maker to try and rid you of this morbid disease. he just wants to make your days of lamenting disappear. to bring back that smile that used to shine on your face before you had ever fallen in love with someone who's heart was not yours. he'd go to the ends of the earth if it meant he could stop the ache piercing your lungs. just please... don't lose your hope either, alright?

DEUCE SPADE, trey clover, jade leech, KALIM AL-ASIM, rook hunt, epel felmier, MALLEUS DRACONIA, silver

he's confused. maybe it's the way he just couldn't comprehend the facts behind the disease. or maybe it's the way he didn't understand how you could allow your own feelings for someone to grow into a sickness that literally grows flowers into your lungs. either way, he genuinely does not know what to do. he notices the way you cough, and cough, and cough—keeping note of the blood that stained each flower in the process. perhaps he could research this disease if he was the type of person to. who did you love in the first place? why would you let it escalate so easily? he's lost, but he'd do his best to try and comfort you. although... it wasn't him that you loved, right?

riddle rosehearts, ace trappola, JACK HOWL, ruggie bucchi, floyd leech, IDIA SHROUD, sebek zigvolt

he develops the disease too. he sees your body doubled over in a frantic mess, tissues of blood and piles of flowers now scattered around your feet. and before he finally processes anything, he starts to feel a sharp pain in his own chest. one that felt like a million thorns growing within his lungs. he wasn't the one you loved after all. it was apparent now. and while the pain in your throat was caused by your love for someone else, his pain was caused by the lack of feelings you held for him. it was as if the world had blasted him with a sign that said, "congratulations, they're in pain because of their love for someone else, which isn't you, so you get to suffer as well!" even if you had found yourself healed from this sickness, the young man discovers that his ending is all the same. you did not love him. nor would you ever. so he continues hiding his own feelings for you if only to not burden you further.

♥... ALL ...♥

a/n: last one was mainly for funsies >:3

[ruggiezz]

— HANAHAKI DISEASE : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] they find themselves getting this deathly illness. how do they deal with it?

[characters] deuce, ruggie, azul, rook

[content warnings] spoilers for book 6, mentions of throwing up, food, death and dead bodies

★DEUCE SPADE is scared, really scared.

It was predictable that he was going to catch feelings for you; there was just something in the way you looked at him that got his heart doing leaps in his chest, the way your laugh would make him get butterflies in his stomach. Wasn’t love supposed to be sweet, like in the movies?

Deuce tried really hard to keep it hidden. He excused himself to go to the bathroom frequently, ignoring the weird glances the three of you gave him. Even if he felt dizzy almost all the time, he never stopped hanging out with you, finding your presence comforting in some way, as if searching for some reassurance that you may reciprocate his feelings.

Then he started to throw up.

His heart felt like it was going to come out of his chest. It all started to feel real; blood was everywhere in the Heartslabyul bathroom. Deuce cleaned it up desperately before somebody could see it, scrubbing as fast as he could and flushing the flowers away. ‘It’s fine. Everything will be okay,’ he told himself.

Valentine’s Day was approaching, and Deuce wrote you a heartfelt letter confessing his feelings for you. His mom called him, asking if he would spend it with someone special, and he laughed it off, suddenly feeling hopeful and energized. He got his hopes up; he shouldn’t have. He really shouldn't have. Without knowing it, Ace had decided his fate by confessing to you first.

As he saw you both holding hands, Deuce knew he was too late. Flowers filled up his lungs, and their thorns suddenly made him feel a very sharp pain in his chest.

That night, he called his mom, crying and apologizing.

★ RUGGIE BUCCHI felt a chill go down his spine when he saw the first petals come out of his mouth.

He knew what was going to happen to him in the next few months, starting from that moment. Seeing dead corpses back home that had colorful flowers coming out of their mouths wasn't uncommon to him back when he was a kid, but he never imagined it would happen to him, not even in his wildest dreams.

He told himself that he didn’t need help, that he would adapt and this would pass, but it just got worse and worse. It reached a point where he would struggle to get up from his bed without feeling dizzy, but he just wouldn’t acknowledge it. If he did acknowledge it, reality would come crashing down on him. Time is money, and he can’t afford to be sick.

The more he continues to ignore it, the sicker he gets. His face is pale, he is thinner, his hands tremble, and most surprisingly, he lost his appetite. Eventually Leona can't ignore it anymore and asks him to go rest; ‘he can't have a living corpse working,’ he says, but that’s just his way of saying he’s worried.

Ruggie keeps a bucket next to his bed that he can use to throw up the flowers, he feels so drained to even move; the only thing he can do is stare at the ceiling. His eyes burn, he can’t breathe, and everything hurts. Jack comes to check up on him after finding out what's going on; Leona asks for food to be delivered to him regularly; and you keep texting him, asking where he is.

He's angry—at himself, at you, and at everyone—but he doesn't have the strength to even cry out of frustration. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, please make it stop. The flowers that were once used by him to make salads are now killing him slowly from the inside.

He can’t deny what’s happening to him anymore. Even if he didn’t want to ask for help, he decides to accept when Leona offers to pay for his surgery. His grandma is waiting for him back home, he can't break her heart.

★AZUL ASHENGROTTO doesn't want to die.

He can't die, he can’t die yet, don't mention the word ‘death’ to him. There are so many things he needs to do. What about his plans and his contracts? That’s his life’s work. You're telling him this is how he dies? That’s it? Azul can’t and won’t accept this.

He won’t cry; he won’t even shed a single tear. Instead of mourning what could have been, he will bury himself in his work. Azul will bite his lip out of anger and refuse to just lay there coughing ‘dumb’ flowers. He just keeps writing and writing paperwork, day and night. Wake up, eat, study, work, work, more work, sleep—that's his daily routine. Jade and Floyd are unusually quiet; Azul just keeps going on with his daily life. Nobody outside of the three of them could tell something was troubling him.

His throat burns, his chest aches from the pressure of the flowers inside him, and his head feels heavy, but there's nothing that some potions can't solve.

There’s resentment from Azul towards you; he can’t even look at you, and the twins won’t let you get close to him either. That feeling of closeness you ever had with the three of them is suddenly gone. Floyd doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, and Jade won’t explain why Azul doesn’t want you near him. The idea of actually losing Azul was scary, even if they wouldn't say it out loud.

So what if Azul was ever in love with you? So what if he still is? Love won’t stop him from achieving what he wants, even if it means forgetting about your existence. He will get that surgery, no matter what.

★ROOK HUNT is in awe when he sees the first petals come out of his mouth. 

He has always been on the hunt for beauty, and there's beauty in the way such delicate flowers get mixed with his own blood, in the way his body could make him have a painful, tragic, but fascinating death. It’s fate, isn’t it? He was meant to meet you, and you were meant to meet him. Everything has a reason; he got so infatuated with you that now he’s in this frightening but charming predicament.

He doesn’t let anyone know, not even Vil. It's not like somebody can tell anyway; a hunter never shows his weaknesses. His smile doesn't falter as he writes thousands of poems professing his love to you, poems he holds close to his chest and cherishes with all his heart. The smell of blood doesn't bother him, as he focuses on the sweet fragrance coming from the daffodils that comes out of his mouth.

Rook has decided that he will let the flowers consume him, laying on his deathbed like the beautiful princess that could rival the fairest queen’s beauty. If this is how he meets his end, then so be it; love can be bitter, hurtful, but alluring at the same time. Words won’t be left unsaid; he will tell you everything. If you don't love him back, then he will accept it and wither away. It will be too late when Vil and Epel find out either way.

Rook would have loved to see your beautiful face one last time before he died, but the last thing he sees is Vil asking him to stay awake and Epel yelling for help.

[stealingyourbones]

Hanahaki disease au with the recipient being someone in love with a Kryptonian.

Only issue: The Kryptonian finds out incredibly quickly a la X-Ray vision, hearing their heart rate pick up when they’re in pain, and their breathing stuffer whenever the thorns or petals hurt them.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Alhaitham — Let You Break My Heart

cw: hanahaki disease, major character de4th, angst

It first happened during a sunny afternoon, the same day Alhaitham first smiled at you. A soft smile, barely even noticeable, but it was certainly there. His eyes tinged with amusement as they bore through yours, and the world was brighter for a moment, though, it was gone just as quickly as it came.

However, the same can't be said for the lingering feelings it has left in your chest.

It started out as simple warm feelings blooming in your chest every time you see him, choking on air whenever his eyes meet yours, the feeling of your windpipe closing up whenever he shows any emotions towards you. It was lovely, those feelings, and you never wished for them to go away.

Until the coughing started.

Blue petals tinted with red now lay on your palms and you could only look on in horror.

Alhaitham can't know. He can never know.

But Alhaitham is intelligent and observant, and you're a dear friend to him. He was bound to notice the increasingly frequent trips to the bathroom, the poorly hidden efforts to cough, and all the petals peeking out of your pockets. It was only a matter of time before he questioned you—before he found out.

When the inevitable finally came, you were already prepared to accept your fate. But Alhaitham had other plans. While you closed your eyes and braced yourself for rejection, Alhaitham simply looked on as unbothered as he could be.

"I love you too,"

And his confession felt like a vine that wrapped itself around your heart, its little thorns digging themselves into the flesh to solidify their position there.

The next few months were the happiest moments of your life; Every day with Alhaitham was too good to be true. He cared for you, he made sure to look after you the best as he could, and made you feel loved as much as he could, despite him having the emotional range of a brick wall.

He kissed you, held your hand, brushed his fingers through your hair every morning, and held you in his chest every night. Not a day goes by that you don't hear him professing his love for you.

But your illness never got any better.

Every day he left for work, you would hunch over the bathroom, whole flowers surrounding the place.

Daffodils. Please respond to my feelings.

Blue Roses. Unrequited love.

Snapdragons. Deception.

And every day, you rush to clean everything up, careful not to leave a single petal behind that will clue Alhaitham into the ever-growing illness that's supposed to have left you ages ago.

It was unheard of, this case of yours, as Hanahaki Disease is supposed to go away the moment its bearer finds out that their feelings are returned, and yet here you are with vines poking out of your throat and flowers in your palms, struggling to breathe.

Perhaps, it was because despite your boyfriend's constant reassurance that he loves you, despite his actions to convince you... deep down, you knew it was all a lie.

Deep down, you knew Alhaitham isn't capable of loving you.

It was only a matter of time before your illness gets the better of you, so you never said anything to him. You allowed yourself to enjoy his act. You relished in his touches, ignoring the flowers pushing past your throat every time he tells you he loves you.

You allowed yourself to live in a lie.

And when the day finally came, you lay in the bed of the man you loved, not able to move anymore and he walked in on you like that. Tucked in his bed, flowers everywhere, it would have seemed romantic in a different circumstance.

Not a single emotion can be seen on his face as he approaches you, one hand reaching out to hold onto yours. In a last effort to communicate with him despite the restraints against your throat, you finally asked for the last time.

"Did you ever love me?"

The moment his irises look away from yours, you allow your tears to escape, his gesture was enough to answer your question and you didn't have the energy to inquire any further. You wanted to thank him for everything, for at least trying for the past few months, but the rejection was enough for your illness to reach full bloom.

One last time, Alhaitham leans in to place a final kiss on your temples, hoping to, at the very least, ease your pain.

In the bed of the man you loved, with your hand still in his, and his lips pressed against your skin, you took your last breath.

And for Alhaitham, that was the beginning of his end.

Hunching over, he, himself started coughing, and the flowers that came from you were mixed with ones that came from him.

Crimson Rose. Grief. Regret.

Purple hyacinths. I'm sorry.

Orchids. I will always love you.

[spookyquill]

The Thorns In My Throat Are For You

Description: a Hanahaki Disease AU, Reader is in love with Dazai and has been for a long while. They were in the port mafia but they left with Dazai

Word Count: 2263

Part 1

Next Part

TW: Character Death, blood, mentions of sickness, coughing up stomach contents, head over the toilet

~~~

“Odasaku!”

Everything was at a standstill. Oda’s body fell to the floor just as Dazai reached him. It took another minute for your body to react, sprinting to Oda and occupying his other side. 

Dazai gasps at the blood on his hands. “I can’t believe you. You’re such an idiot.” He says, tears welling up as he speaks, but they remain brimming along his eyelids.

You’re quick to apply pressure to the wound on Oda. A gasp threatens to escape your mouth as you feel the deep wound and the blow flowing effortlessly past your efforts. Regardless, you keep your hand planted there. “Why would you go off on your own like this? Why didn’t you wait for backup?”

Oda grunts, raising one hand to rest atop yours, and another hand to Dazai’s, who rests his hand on Oda’s cheeks. “There’s something I need to tell you both.”

“Not like this!” Dazai yells out.

“Wait to tell us after we get you a medic.” You say with a softer tone, not having the heart to yell. You also know that what you said was a lie. Oda was slipping away, and there was nothing that anyone could do for him.

“Quit it both of you!” Oda looks at Dazai. “Remember how you told me that you committed yourself to violence and bloodshed in hopes of finding a reason to exist?” He then turns to you, not giving Dazai a chance to reply. You see the pain in his eyes. “And how about when you told me that you thought you found your purpose in life by serving the mafia, even though you hate their tactics?!”

“Who cares about that now?” Your lips wobble.

“Neither of you will find what you’re looking for.” You and Dazai let out soft gasps in shock. “You’re both smart enough to know that. It doesn’t matter what side you’re on. Nothing in this world will be able to fill the nothingness inside you. Try as you might, but that darkness will always be there.”

A few breaths is all that passes your lips for a moment.

“Odasaku.”

“Tell us what we should do.” Dazai’s voice gives away his grief.

Oda grabs a hold of both yours and Dazai’s in one grip. “Protect people. If both sides are the same, then become good people. Protect the vulnerable. Help some orphans along the way. I know that the concept of good and evil doesn't mean much to you, but at least it’ll make your worlds a little more beautiful.”

A sob breaks from your mouth, tears cascading down your face. You can't control them, and by the looks of it, Dazai’s about to break his composure too.

“You can’t know that.” He says, voice deep as he tries in vain to hold back his tears. 

Oda scoffs. “Of course I can. Because I know my friends better than they do.” He looks at you. “I know what they hide from each other.” 

You stare, wide eyed. He’s known. You don’t know how long but he knows your crush on Dazai, there’s no other explanation for that expression of his. You turn your gaze to Dazai, who continues to stare at Oda as he begins to take his final breath.

That night, when you left the mansion, you both agreed to follow Oda’s advice. You left with the memory of Oda, and his last words carving their way into your heads as a promise. You didn’t return to mafia headquarters. Avoided all territory that the mafia had laid claim to. Coats and accessories were left with Oda as a final goodbye to Mori.

Weeks went pass in a blur. The two of you stayed in an underground facility, designed to house though without a home. Truthfully you could afford a house, but you didn't want to leave any paper trail behind for Mori to pick up and hunt you down from. You picked up community chores for some change every now and then, to blend in with the community and to pave your way to fulfilling Oda’s wish.

One day, as you were coming back from completing a task, you began to cough. It was normal for people to cough, especially considering the air underground wasn’t the best, but what came out of the cough is what surprised you. 

“What?” You stare at the petal in your hand. It’s small, a baby petal that didn't get to continue its growth. It came out of your mouth.

Questions flood your brain but you push them back, pocketing the petal out of sight.

When you enter your home, you see Dazai adorning a soft smile. 

“Hey. You seem happy. What’s the reason?”

Dazai hums. “Oh, I had a chat with someone today. I asked him if there are any job offers out there that can have us help people. He suggested a detective agency in Yokohama. It sounds like a nice place. And to top it off, they have a skilled business permit, which means free use of our abilities!”

You let out a breath of relief. “That’s great!”

“Though there is a slight problem with that.”

You tense up again.

“We have to remain undercover for another 2 years in order to clear our records. But he said he’d put a good word in for us.”

“Oh. I mean, at least it's something to look forward to!” You try to lighten up the mood. Walking up to the kitchen table, you take out the money you earned for the day. “We can do it, it’s not like we’ve been doing it for a few months anyway. What's another couple years for a clean slate?”

Dazai smiles. Your heart flutters at the sight. 

“That’s the spirit!” He walks to the door. “I’m going to take a stroll. Don’t stay up for me.” And with that, he's gone.

You take out the petal from your pocket, examining it further. 

“Why now?”

~~~TimeSkip~~~

You’re sitting at your desk, typing when Dazai approaches you. “What do you say we have a celebratory dinner for our acceptance into the agency? Just you and me.”

Your heart stammers, but you mask it with a playful smirk. “Dazai, are you asking me out on a date?”

Dazai chuckles. “Of course not!” Ouch. “I just want to celebrate the start of a new chapter in our lives!”

With a nod, you stand and follow him out the door. He ends up taking you to a small restaurant. Nothing too fancy.

As you gaze at the menu, wondering what to eat, you can't help but to flick your eyes up at Dazai, taking in his mesmerising features being lit up perfectly by the dim lighting of the restaurant. Unsurprisingly, he notices.

“Is there something on my face?” He questions.

You look up at him properly, a confused expression plastered on your face for a brief moment before it's replaced by a smile. “No. I’m just taking in how much you’ve changed in the years. You look more happy, natural, like you belong here.” You put down the menu. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re… shining.”

Dazai stares blankly in silence, processing your words. He then barks out a laugh. “What flirtatious words!”

You didn't even intend them to come out that way, now you’re fighting a blush from forming on your cheeks. 

“I didn’t think I had changed that much.” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table and his face propped up by his hands. “Well I think you’ve changed as well. You’re not following any orders now, you aren’t a duckling who willingly follows its mother. You are paving your own path now, making your own choices.” His voice dips a bit lower. “You are becoming your own person, not the one people want you to be.”

Out of everything he could’ve possibly said, you weren’t expecting that. 

“You really think I changed that drastically?” You ask.

Dazai nods. “Back then, you followed me like a lost puppy. If Chuuya hadn’t taken up the mantle, I would’ve started calling you my dog.” You scoff at that. “You obeyed without question, a simple pawn in everyone else's game. Honestly, I didn’t think you would survive long on your own with me. I thought you would’ve continued listening to me without question. But you didn’t. You took initiative. You picked up a sword and started fighting your own battles. You became independent in such a short amount of time I was beginning to think you had been kidnapped and replaced by a doppelganger. But being in the agency, I’ve come to realise that you’ve grown up. You stepped up to the role you needed to take without any guidance. And for that, I’m proud of you.”

Tears shined against your eyes, and you were certain that Dazai could see them, but you fought them from sliding down your cheeks. You were speechless, trying to form any word of a sentence in your mind, but nothing came to. Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish.

Thankfully you weren’t left in embarrassing silence for long as the waiter came by to take your order. The two of you ordered your food and drinks before going back to silence. Although it still felt a bit tense for you, it was comfortable.

Dazai soon struck up conversation, discussing the details of his exam and his opinions of the agency’s members, going on an annoying tangent on Kunikida. 

When the food and drinks arrived, you dug in, enjoying the freshly prepared meal that wasn’t cheap nor was it expensive. It was a nice change from the food you endured the past couple of years. It was refreshing.

You were nearing the end of your meal before you started choking. You cough violently, covering your mouth quickly so as to not spit everywhere on the table. Dazai looked at you with concern. You wanted to assure him you were fine, but your stomach came to interrupt. 

Abruptly, you stood up and bolted for the bathroom, hand firmly clasped over your mouth. 

You slammed open the door, dashing into the nearest stall, barely being able to lock it before turning around and spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hover your head over the toilet for a few agonising minutes, gagging over the toilet with the occasional violent cough. Finally, you feel something in your throat give away and splutter into the bowl.

Having the time to breathe, you open your eyes, catching sight of the contents in the bowl. You’re accustomed to gross sights and things that make you question your sanity, but you weren't accustomed to the sight of the pristine petal laying gently on top of it all. 

It looked to be a bloomed petal, snowy white scattered with droplets of blood. It was beautiful yet dangerous. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

A frantic knock at the door sounds from the bathroom door before you hear it open. 

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” A female server asks. 

Without thinking twice, you flush the toilet. “I’m okay!” You stand up on shaky legs, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe your mouth. You notice a swipe of blood appearing on the fabric and you quickly scrub at it, trying desperately to make it disappear.

“Are you sure? Your friend said you rushed off without warning. Are you feeling sick? I can call an ambulance-”

You open the door. “No need to be that dramatic. I’m fine, just a wave of nausea.”

The server looks at you with worry. “Has our food been cooked incorrectly? I am terribly sorry, I’ll inform the manager and give your meal for free-”

You rest your hand on the stressed servers’ shoulder, calming her. “No need to stress. I was feeling a bit nauseous before arriving, so I don’t believe it to be your food, I think I may have tried to force myself to eat too much.” It’s so natural to lie, yet it feels wrong to do so. But you don’t want anyone to worry about you.

The server nods timidly. “Well your friend is waiting outside the bathroom for you. He seems quite concerned for your health.”

“Thank you.” You bow slightly to her before taking your exit.

“(Y/n)! Are you okay?!” Dazai bombards you almost immediately, getting close to you yet also giving you some space. 

You sigh, a hand on your stomach as you fight the feeling of post-nausea. “I’m fine. I think I just tried eating too much.”

“You sure it wasn’t the restaurant's food?”

You shake your head. “I’m sure it wasn’t their fault. I’m not blaming them, their food was delicious, I think it’s just been simmering up all day. I might head off for the night, try to sleep it off.”

A few moments of silence pass. You can practically hear the gears in Dazai’s head turning, trying to decipher whether you're telling the truth. After what felt like ages, he relinquishes. 

“Okay then. Let’s get you home. I’ll tell Fukuzawa tomorrow morning that you aren’t feeling well. I’ll have him give you a couple sick days to recover.” He moves to your side, offering support and guiding you out of the restaurant where he calls a cab. 

You can’t focus for the rest of the night, you don't even notice when Dazai tucks you into bed and leaves you alone in your dorm. All you can think about is the white petal decorated with twinkles of fresh blood.

“What’s happening to me?”

~~~

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated <3

[acescavern]

END TO START - LEE TAEYONG X READER

Navi - M.list

Pairing: Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader. ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)

Genre: Heavy angst my guys, soulmates au, neo frat au, university au, fluff, Hanahaki Soulmate trope.

Synopsis: Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.

wc: 4.9k

Warnings: Heavy angst, Blood, Mentions of death, suffering, choking, johnny is unfaithful, it's a Hanahaki au so they basically cough up dead and thorned flowers. It's not a graphic description but there are descriptions of pain too, mentions of weight loss due to being unwell, Unrequited love, hurt, Taeyong's been in love with the reader since before her and Johnny got together, heavy rejection, soulmate rejection ( Just because i have written this does NOT mean that i think any one of the nct members would cheat or act thi way. this is pure FICTION.) Please let me know if i have missed any warnings

Note: Hi! I have a few fics in the works but I'm worried I wont get them done for Halloween. So, I am blessing you with this heart-breaking fic. I wanted to release this fic early as a thank you for all your love on Operation Rizz! Now, this is the same frat universe as all my other NCT fics. they can all be read as stand alone though, so don't worry! Any feedback is once again appreciated. I do not own the concept of Hanahaki.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated

Soulmates were supposed to be someone's everything—the one person who was meant specifically for them. Someone you can lean on and cherish, who would dote and adore you. Someone to dish out as much love to you as you unto them. To stay by your side and grow old together. However, some people are already at that stage when they meet their destined person. There was also the worry of some people not having a soulmate. Legend says that only the blessed are gifted with such. 

Gifted? Yes. To many, the Soulmate system is a curse - depending on what type you are assigned to. Tattoos? Easy. Mind reading? Okay a little more difficult. Red string? That practically takes you straight to them.  Eternal life? Near impossible! You could spend many years with someone you thought was a soulmate only to see a wrinkle and realize you aren’t made for each other at all. Seeing things in black and white only to suddenly be overwhelmed with color at a music festival and not know who the hell you’d bumped into in that massive crowd that could possibly be your soulmate. Not everyone even had a soulmate, they could be with whoever they wanted without consequences. 

But there was one type in particular that nobody wanted. Hanahaki. Named after the fictional Japanese Hanahaki Disease. It comes from the Japanese words Hana - meaning flower and Hakimasu - quite literally meaning, to throw up. 

In a soulmate's case, when they first meet each other a seed is awakened. It grows thorned roses - the flowers of love - cradling the person’s heart and twining around inside their lungs. For the most part, other than the occasional flutter and heartburn, it goes unnoticeable. So long as the soulmate reciprocates the feelings of love. But, should one soulmate start to fall out of love? The other will suffer terribly. The flowers will die, the spikey stems squeezing at the organs they were once gently caressing with love. Crushing in their anguish.

Of course, unlike the other soulmate types, there are two ways out of Hanahaki... Let the weight of the unreciprocated love drag on painfully until you die, or convince your health insurance to accept the cost of the operation to remove the offending plants. However, by the time one realizes they are soulmates, it is likely that the bond has already been unreciprocated. 

Taeyong knew this. He knew this because it happened to him. He had once been on the receiving end of the agonizing scratch of dead rose stems climbing up his throat in a mess of blood and wilted petals. Taeyong had nearly died. He recognized the signs clearly and that was the reason he was so shocked to see them in who he did. 

Johnny’s soulmate.

Taeyong first took notice when you walked through the door of the club. A celebration night to celebrate the frat’s anniversary alongside Taeyong’s new choreographer position in the dance studio he works in. Your face had a slightly paler tone and although you were doing a good job at keeping your breathing even… Taeyong recognized the telltale signs of a wince when you took the air in too harshly. 

But when he saw Johnny approach you and press a loving kiss to your forehead, he scolded himself for thinking such things. Taeyong knew something was up though, your smile didn’t meet your eyes and when you congratulated him with a hug, he swore he could feel your body tremble. 

He tried not to worry too much throughout the night but when he saw Johnny by the bar, his charming smile dazzled at some sorority girls that had been invited… Taeyong wondered where you’d gone. The disappointment within him only grew when he watched his best friend and frat brother go home with one of them. 

So, maybe his suspicions were correct. A few weeks passed and he’d not seen a glimpse of you, Johnny hadn’t even uttered your name. The rapper hadn’t had time to sit him down and ask him about the incident. Until now. 

Taeyong dabbed the sweat from his brow with the neckline of his shirt, swiping his water bottle from the floor. He shuffled toward his friend, watching as he grinned at his phone as he typed. He was talking to someone and Taeyong only hoped it was you. That you’d both mended things to stop it getting worse. The thought of it all being a misunderstanding had a relieved smile spreading across his face as he settled on the floor next to Johnny. 

“You texting ____? Tell her I said Hey.” Taeyong said, twisting the cap off his drink to take a swig. Taeyong was almost taken aback at the irritated flash that crossed Johnny’s expression at the mention of your name. 

If Taeyong wasn’t so observant, he would have missed it. Johnny shook his head, swiftly locking his phone when his leader went to peer over his shoulder. “It’s not. It’s Yuki.” 

Taeyong’s eyebrows scrunched, posture freezing for a moment. “The sorority girl you went home with?” He tried to keep his tone level. Memories of the same thing happening to himself reoccur in his mind. “What about ____?” The question hung awkwardly in the air, Johnny staring at Taeyong as if he’d asked something ridiculous. 

“What about her?” He shrugged. “Just because I do stupid things, doesn't mean I don’t love her. She’s my soulmate.” He paused, an almost defeated sigh sagging at his shoulders. “The only one I got.” 

Taeyong took notice of the slight bitterness in his words. Almost as if he didn’t realize that he did it. “Do you?” 

Johnny rubbed at the back of his neck, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Once again, a defeated shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah… yes.” He cleared his throat as his voice broke. “I’m sure we’d of noticed by now if I hadn’t.”  Johnny left no room for debate, standing up with a clap of his hands to suggest they continue their lacrosse practice.

You knew. You knew Johnny’s feelings for you were dwindling. You were reminded every time you coughed. Reminded by the way your breath left you in an agonizing squeeze when Johnny would kiss your forehead.  

But, even though you knew… it didn’t make you love him any less. You knew what he got up to when your nights weren't spent together. You didn’t do a thing, didn’t bring it up. You almost tried to ignore it. You loved Johnny. You always would. And, as long as you continued to love him, he wouldn’t have the same fate as you. You would never wish this pain on him even if he was the cause. 

You wished you’d heeded Mark’s seemingly lighthearted warning at the beginning of your relationship. ‘He’s one of my closest friends but he doesn’t always do the right thing, just… please be careful.’ Mark had said one evening. You hadn’t truly understood why he had said it, nor did you get to question him before Johnny had slid his arm around your middle. 

You understood perfectly now. Especially as a sharp tickle wheezed in the back of your throat, your eyes discreetly scanning the new text message from your seat at the very back row of English lit class. ‘Can we rain check date night again? Coach is being a hardass and wants us to stay late.’ For the third week running, the same excuse. Sure, you’d seen Johnny. But Thursday was always date night. Something you’d both stuck to like glue once before. 

Pain twisted in your chest, your breath rough. You brought the sleeve of your hoodie to your mouth, attempting a discreet cough. It didn’t do anything for you, the feeling like you’d swallowed razorblades. The world felt like it was spinning for a moment and you had to close your eyes and count to ten to steady it again. 

One look at your sleeve had you frowning. The next stage had started. You’d read about this. Discoloured petals. You’d only coughed up one but one was enough for you to be sure. With one last attempt at clearing your throat, you brushed the blackened petal to the ground. 

Taeyong shared this class with you. Whilst he didn’t often sit next to you, he was mostly always on the same row. Not many people occupied the back row and so, when he heard the muffled hack come from your direction he had looked over, shoulders tensing as he watched you. 

He approached you at the end of class, watching your sluggish movements as you shoved your laptop back into your bag. “____, Are you alright?” He asked softly, noting the sheen of sickly sweat coasting your forehead. 

Lips pressed firmly together, you nodded. You were certain if you opened your mouth you'd start coughing and choking again but you didn’t want to be rude. “I’m fine.” Bad idea. “Sorry, Yong, I gotta go-” Taeyong had never heard your voice so scratchy and coarse. He had also never seen you flee so quickly before he could even open his mouth, your notepad falling from your unzipped bag as you vanished before his eyes. 

As he knelt down to collect it from the ground, his fingers made contact with a velvety, withered texture. 

A blackened rose petal. 

 The next time Taeyong saw you, you were much worse than he could have imagined. He had only turned up at your apartment because he assumed Johnny had left his phone at your place. He couldn’t really understand the rushed words of ‘Shit! I left my phone at her place, I’m already late!’ When Taeyong offered to go and get it, he naturally thought of your place. 

So when you answered the door, he was standing frozen at the sight of you. Your eyes had bags under them that would put JFK airport to shame. Your complexion was grey, lips cracked and dry. Taeyong could definitely see you’d lost some weight too, your knitted sweater nearly slipping off one shoulder. His gaze caught onto the marks along your neck, long red streaks almost looking like you had been clawing at it in your agony. Your winced call of his name kicked his brain into gear. 

“Now isn’t a good ti-” His hands flew out to rub and pat your back as your words were interrupted. 

Taeyong’s heart broke as he watched you struggle. You couldn’t get your breath, your face turning red from the strenuosity. Taeyong backed you into your apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He sat you on your couch, disappearing from view for a moment.

You didn’t even take note of what exactly was being thrust under your nose, only that it would catch what your body rejected. One of his hands held the bucket, the other sweeping your hair away from your face. It was all too familiar for him. Except for Taeyong, he had done it alone. 

“It’s okay, ____” He hushed, palm flattened over your back to rub comforting circles. “Breath through your nose and count to ten. It helps.” 

You did as such, shoulders relaxing as the air finally seeped into your lungs. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, sighing at the crimson residue that was becoming all too familiar. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be gently hushed once more. 

“It’s okay, it’ll hurt too much if you talk.” He set the bucket down on the side table. “You should get yourself some grapeseed oil. A teaspoon a day should at least prevent the attacks so often.” Taeyong didn’t look at you as he spoke, his hands busying themselves with opening the small drawer to your coffee table in search of tissues. 

“You mean this?” You rasped, pulling the small droplet bottle from your pocket, and setting it down on the surface before you. Taeyong’s eyebrows creased. 

It was the exact same bottle he was sure he had. Though, catching sight of the label on the bottle he knew it was his bottle. ‘Taeyong’  scribbled messily on the labeled sticker. He looked at you expectantly. 

“Johnny gave it to me.” Just uttering his name sent a pang of hurt through you, a wave of emotion rippling from your jaw to the tips of your toes. 

Taeyong understood immediately, a deep sigh resonating as he nodded once. “He knows then.” To which you nodded, eyes fixed on your lap. 

He had never seen you cry, and he would hate to admit it but your eyes looked pretty when you did. It was as if the glaze of tears enhanced the colors of your iris. “He doesn’t know it’s this bad. He thinks the tickle has just started.” 

“____, you’re dying and you’re telling me Johnny hasn’t noticed yet?” To say that Taeyong was in disbelief was an understatement. The new knowledge that Johnny knew now had floored him. 

Why? Because Johnny hadn’t once let it show. Taeyong had been around the guy all week and he was still the happy comedic genius he always was. Not a hint of anything bothering him. 

“Yong, It’s okay. I..” You drew your knees up to your chest, patting the spot next to you for him. “I’ve come to terms with it.” 

“Come to terms with it?!” He spluttered. “____, you are in your twenties! You can’t be okay with dying in your twenties.” His hand raked through his hair, eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn't come to terms with how calm you looked right now. 

Taeyong could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest, his gaze hardening as he addressed you once more. “You know he’s been seeing her too, don’t you?”

You were silent, shame eating at your subconscious. “If I ignore it then he won’t have to be like this too.” 

Taeyong sprung up to his feet. “Wake up! He’s out there living his life with no regrets and you’re the one to suffer? I can’t…” He shook his head, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I just-” With one last shake of his head, Taeyong left you there. The slam of your front door announcing his absence.

Johnny remembered the conversation between the two of you very clearly. He was convinced he still loved you a lot. Just not in the way you need. At first, he thought it was doubt, but as time went on he started to notice the dry tickly cough and the abundance of petals scattered in your trash. He was sure it wasn’t harmful yet, certain that he still held the love in his heart for you. 

Johnny didn’t love Yuki. She was fun. She was different. She wasn’t you. He could spend time with her without any strings attached. It was freeing, knowing he wasn't destined to be with her no matter what. 

He felt guilt at first. He didn’t like lying to you, but it was for his own selfish gain that he did. Johnny had seen Taeyong go through the pain and near death of a soulmate falling out of love, he didn’t want that for himself. Johnny had too much to live for, as arrogant and self-centred as that sounded. 

 He remembered what you said when he gave you the vial of grapeseed oil, how your shaky hands had placed over his own. How you told him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. But Johnny couldn’t help but think it was. Johnny tried so hard to make himself love you still. Your words of comfort swirled in his mind and kept him up at night. ‘Nobody can help who they do and don’t love. Feelings change, People don’t’ You’d said to him.

Johnny felt ashamed. Being unfaithful to you whilst you still loved him with every ounce of your soul. Deep down, Johnny knew you only had two options he just hoped you made a decision before it was too late. 

Taeyong had been seen by barely anyone all week. It was as if he was attending his classes and then picking up every extra shift or odd job imaginable. The Neos were even more shocked when Mark slapped a flier down on the dining table ping pong table in front of some of the brothers. A for sale flier, advertising their frat leader’s motorcycle. The very same one that he cherished and spent a fortune to modify. 

“Do you think he’s in debt?” Jungwoo frowned, setting his beer on the table. 

That question alone earned a chortled laugh. “Woo, we’re in university. We’re all in debt.” Yuta clapped him on the back. “But, on a serious note, He’s been acting super weird lately.” 

Everyone launched into debate, trying to determine why Taeyong would be selling his pride and joy so suddenly. Conversation ceased when the front door opened and the man in question shuffled into the open-plan living space with an exhausted wave. 

“Ty, are you actually selling the bandit?” The question came from Taeil, Neo frat’s oldest member. 

Taeyong moved through the living area, taking a seat at one of the beanbags littered around the table. “Already sold it.” He bobbed his head in a nod. 

It earned him many concerned looks. “Are you in trouble or something? Are you trying to cover the water bill from when Mark broke the faucet?” 

“No, Jae. I’m not in trouble. It’s not for me.”  He reassured, his voice dying down quietly. “It’s for ____.” 

Everyone stopped. Mark locked his phone, Yuta stopped chipping at his nail polish, and Taeil nearly spat out his beer. Jaehyun and Jungwoo were already staring at him. 

“Why?”

Taeyong took a deep breath, anticipating the question.It didn’t take long for him to catch them up to speed.  “You haven’t noticed? I can’t watch her die. Even if she’s come to terms with it.” 

“She’s not been to class for a few weeks. Professor Choi just straight-up skips over her name now. I’m guessing they know.” Jaehyun hummed. 

“Hm, Jaemin said he saw her last week on his midnight ramen run.” Mark recalled, “Said she looked like something out of living dead.” 

“Mark,” Taeyong gave him a warning look. The younger just shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to book the operation for her. She doesn’t know. I just need the deposit. After that, it’s monthly payments. I can scrape enough together for the monthly just fine.” He looked pained. “Whenever I see her, it’s like I’m watching myself go through it again.” 

One by one, Jaehyun, Mark, Jungwoo, Yuta, and Taeil offered their help. 

The six of them didn’t make it known what their plans were but soon enough, after Taeyong had put what he had already saved with what the others offered, it was enough. He rocked up to the private medical center, cash in an envelope that was tucked neatly within the inside pocket of his jacket. 

Taeyong was pleasantly surprised that he was allowed to schedule and pay the deposit on your behalf. Acting on best interest. The receptionist did stress that you needed to fill in the form and sign consent upon arrival but Taeyong was more pleased that he was giving you a chance at life. That there was a possibility that you could carry on.

What he didn’t expect, was your immediate refusal when he brought the leaflet and forms over to your apartment the following morning. The smile dropped from his face as you tried to hide away from him.  ‘He could die.’ You’d cried at him. And whilst it had been proven he wouldn't, you were convinced. 

“He won’t, ____.” Taeyong begged. “Please, you can’t just accept this.” The bed dipped as he sat on the edge. The many times he had visited you now, you had always been. The last time you got up to open the door, Taeyong honestly worried that you would pass away right there on the doorstep. He took your spare key after that. 

Taeyong’s gentle fingers lifted the damp wash cloth from the bowl at your bedside, running the cool material over your brow and cheeks. A light smile twitched at the corner of your lips, the sensation easing your fever, only a little but it was better than before. He knew he wasn’t going to get many more words from you this evening. You’d exhausted yourself already for the evening. Taeyong was just content enough to sit here and care for you. 

Honestly, before it was known that you were Johnny’s soulmate, Taeyong had hoped you’d notice him. He had often found himself wishing that it wouldn’t last so he could at least have a shot with you. His hopes were crushed when Johnny had run through the fraternity declaring you were both soulmates. Taeyong had made peace with the idea that maybe he was meant to be alone, satisfied just by seeing you whenever Johnny brought you over to hang out. 

He never wished for this, though. 

Tenderest of touches brushed your hair away from where it had clung to your forehead. Taeyong clicking on the standing fan in an attempt to offer you some cool relief. “Trust me, ____.” He whispered, voice brittle. “I went through this.” His confession had your right eye cracking open. 

“Back in the first year,” Taeyong recalled. “Watching you and Johnny go through this… it’s like a mirror. I nearly died,” He picked up your hand, engulfing it in both of his own. “I refused the operation until it was nearly too late. For the same reason, actually.” 

Your fingers twitched in his own, your index finger hooking around his thumb to offer comfort. You have suspected Taeyong had some close experience with this. Especially in the way he always seemed to understand your pain, the sad gazes, and his drive to help you. You had never expected that he would be the one in your position though. The meer thought had tears welling up in your eyes. You seemed to cry a lot around the man these days. 

“He didn’t die though. Apparently, he just… coughed up the root.” He lifted your hand, the ghosting feeling of his lips against your knuckles. “I promise you, Johnny won’t die… At least think about it.” To which you nodded in agreement. 

Taeyong made you soup, your favorite kind. You weren’t even sure how he knew it was your favorite but he did. He parted from you with a lingering kiss to your hairline. Just like every night. This form of unrequited love seemed to of hurt him more than his last. 

He’d left the forms and leaflets on the empty bed space by your feet.

You’d asked Taeyong not to come over for the last four days. As worried as he was, he had to respect your wishes. You didn’t want him to see your sudden decline as you entered the last stage of the rejection. Meaning, that Johnny had almost fallen completely out of love with you now. 

You were expecting it, Taeyong too. You and Johnny had broken things off the last time you saw each other. Both of you doing so without even having to clarify the matter. He was free. Almost. 

Taeyong had been stressed all week, even his frat brothers had given him a wide berth. Many put it down to the lacrosse game the pending evening. Only a select few really knew that it was because today was the same day Taeyong had scheduled for your surgery. 

He hadn’t known it was the same day as the game, Jungwoo uttering the words with caution the day before. Taeyong swore to himself that he thought he booked it for next week. He didn’t even know if you were going to accept it… Any time he brought it up you tended to change the subject. 

How Taeyong managed to even pass the ball with steady swings amazed even himself, his hands hadn’t stopped shaking. He had nearly skipped the game in favor of being with you, but he knew he couldn’t.  The game had gone smoothly, they were winning by one. In fact, Johnny had to take the penalty shot. 

The whole field waited on bated breath, all eyes on Johnny as he just stood there, his expression morphed in such a way that Taeyong exchanged a look with Jaehyun.

“Seo! Take the damn shot already!” The coach didn’t even get through his ending word before Johnny’s form curled over, knees slamming into the ground. 

Taeyong rushed over as his friend tore off his helmet and spat his mouthguard to the ground. He would worry about that later. Taeyong slid to his knees beside Johnny, his own helmet crashing to the ground out of his grip. 

Johnny had never felt such pain. His airways were burning. The sensation in his chest felt like all the oxygen was being torn from him. The team crowded around him, blocking anyone else's view of the scene.  A choked cough left his throat, a shout of agony following after. Petals. Blood. Stems.  The flower was unwinding itself, pulling at the roots from within his chest and lungs. 

The team managed to maneuver Johnny back to the locker rooms, it took four of them to carry him but soon the male was slumped against the tiles of the showers. Taeyong was beside him once again. “Cough it up Johnny, you’ll do more damage if you don’t.” He tugged Johnny’s arm to sit him forward, his fist thumping down in the center of his back. “Johnny, come on!” 

To say Taeyong was relieved when Johnny finally started coughing again was an understatement. “You gotta carry it on, it’ll hurt but I’ve got you.” He pleaded over the sound of his friend’s cries and chokes. 

Johnny doesn’t know how long he continuously coughed for. All he knew was the last one to shake through his body finally offered him release, Taeyong tugging him away from the mangled mix of plant and blood only to rip him, Johnny, from his shock-induced state by shoving him under the freezing cold shower stream - kit and all. 

A big, clear breath left him. 

“What the fuck, John?” Ten peaked his head around the corner, having raced in after the team to check on his best friend. 

“Dude, that's your flower.” Mark grimaced, crouched down next to the offending object. 

The announcement made Johnny’s spine straighten, and Taeyong hung his head. “What does it mean?” Johnny shakily stood, pressing the button to stop the stream of cold water. 

It was fascinating how Johnny already felt better. He felt no pull in his chest, no weakness even after the whole ordeal. He felt new. But if he felt like this… then what had happened to you? The realization of what had happened weighed heavy on his guilt. 

He turned to address the sort of traumatized, faces around him but it wasn’t him that spoke up. It was Taeyong. “It means I need to find ____.” 

Taeyong had raced past his teammates and into the locker room without any further explanation. His phone cramped between his ear and shoulder as he tugged on his sweats at record speed. “C’mon, Petal. Pick up.” He swore to himself, only removing the device from his ear to throw on a t-shirt from his locker. It was a term of endearment he had taken to calling you of late, though quite often when you were too dazed to notice. 

He ignored the looks of confusion from his friends. Well, from those other than Mark and Jaehyun. From the look on Johnny’s face, he was still piecing things together. Taeyong didn’t have time for that, snatching the keys for the beat-up Honda he had gotten recently and sprinting from the room. 

Taeyong continued to call you on the way to your apartment. He had just hoped you’d gotten yourself to the appointment. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing you like this. He found himself afraid to enter your building, scared of what he may find. His head thumped against the steering wheel, eyes burning with unshed tears. You had to be okay. 

His phone buzzed, body jumped when he saw your name flash on the screen. He swiped to answer, bringing it up to his ear with a relieved sigh. “____.” He listened to your breathing for a split second, registering the steady beeps in the background. 

“Is he alive?” Your tone was filled with urgency but your voice was clearer than Taeyong had heard in weeks. It had a relieved laugh bubbling from his chest, salty droplets cascading down his cheeks and leaving his tear ducts with the tension in him. 

“He’s fine.” He sniffled, rubbing at his face. “ Petal, you’re okay. I tho-” You interrupted him with a soothing call of his name. 

“You were right.” He listened to you pause, the sounds of you sipping through a straw present in the receiver. “There are things I do have to live for.” You spoke quietly. “The first one being myself.” 

He hummed in agreement, starting up the car again. “Yeah? I’ll be there soon and you can tell me all about the second, Petal.” He was rewarded with a breathy laugh. “What?”

“Petal.” You murmured, Taeyong could hear the slumber lingering back into your tone. 

“Get some rest. I’ll be there soon.” He was about to pull the phone away from his ear when you quietly called his name again. 

“Yes?” He hummed, clicking the hands-free and setting the phone into the holder on the dash. 

“Can I tell you my second reason?” 

“What’s that, Petal?” He smiled softly to himself. 

“It’s you.”

©Acescavern - I do not give permission for my works to be copied, translated or reposted

[jinnie-ret]

the wisp sings

jeongin x fem!reader

genre: very angsty

warnings: hanahaki disease, idk grab a tissue maybe especially if you listen to the song at the same time

word count: 1.6k

summary: jeongin never confesses his love to you and it's to his own detriment that he becomes exhausted

requested by: @skzoologist

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Jeongin loved roses. Such soft, velvety petals, held up strong and protected from harm by thorns that could cause you that very thing. He thought they were beautiful, and didn't care if his thumbs always tingled slightly from the amounts of times he pricked them whilst trimming the flowers down. It was a reminder that he could feel something. Something other than longing and heartache.

"Wow! These are gorgeous! And you picked pink ones too? I bet it's because I said they're my favourite ones, hmm?"

Every time she visited her best friend's dorm, she found instant comfort in the light floral scents that drifted around the apartment. It was so pure, so welcoming, so... gorgeous. It summed up Jeongin wonderfully. And on top of that, it distracted her from the fact the dial on his love meter was slowly dwindling down, day by day.

"Anything for you."

The love meter was something everyone could see. A holographic vision that hovered above your head, a dial ranging from one end, a satisfied, content heart, to a dangerously lifeless one. People really lived to love, in this world. Those who were lucky to live alongside the ones they had fallen for, got to love. There was no burden of worrying if the dial would waver down to the dreaded grey heart, instead, a beating heart seen above them. It was the type of love that left couples in a state of being unable to speak without a smile.

How Jeongin wished that was how he could live.

She was oblivious, to a lot of things, but mainly his feelings for her. The way he would get lost in her eyes, searching deeply, an imploring look upon his face. If only she could realise the feelings she returned, rather than remaining in some sort of limbo. The dial on her love meter remained firmly in the middle because as far as she was aware, there wasn't anyone she loved so deeply for it to move either side.

"Have you ever wondered why we were born in a world like this? It feels a bit, scary sometimes, don't you think? That we rely on finding the perfect person to survive?"

He wanted a life, a long life, where everyone could see their hearts happily floating above their heads, where they could share story after story, moment after moment, together.

"I don't know... there's something so painfully beautiful about it..."

It was often they had late night chats, sneaking up onto the rooftop when the campus security wasn't lurking. Taking in the starry sky, one of them admiring the peace and the other praying they wouldn't be joining them soon. Oddly enough, they hadn't done so in a while, Jeongin not turning up to their uni classes, concerning her deeply.

"Jeongin? I've brought you some leftover kimchi, your favourite. Jeongin?" she called out as she entered his apartment, having a spare key card they managed to trick the accomodation into giving when Jeongin's 'broke'.

Quiet. Too quiet. Worryingly, the usually pristine roses were wilting slightly, petals scattered across the kitchen unit in a wet path.

"You've really made a mess with these roses this time..." she sighed with a slight laugh, placed down her tupperware box of food on the side and entering the lounge. Immediately, she rushed to her best friend's side, alarmed to see him trapped in a coughing fit, sweat beading across his forehead.

"What's wrong? Tell me," she frowned, brushing his hair back out of his face.

"My meter... Can't you tell?" Jeongin mumbled weakly, a defeated look on his face.

In that moment, a something shattered within her, noticing that the dial on his love meter was wavering towards the faded, lifeless side. It was running low.

"What... No... You'll be ok, we'll find a solution to this, you're my best friend, I can't let you suffer like this..."

Little did she know the dial moved further down the slightest bit when she uttered those words...

Best friend.

She didn't feel like a very good friend when she was suddenly swamped in her university assignment. She texted every hour she was awake, just for that reassurance Jeongin was still with her. But when the replies became less frequent, there was obviously something wrong.

Rushing to his apartment one afternoon, she panted, hands resting on her knees as she pushed the front door open, letting it slam behind her.

"Jeongin?!" she called out desperately, hoping for a response. She didn't get one. Instead there was the harrowing sight of petals scattered across the wooden floors, leading to his bedroom. In any other situation, it would look incredibly romantic, yet the fate of this world created a vision of death and mourning.

Frail and weak, Jeongin was wheezing from his shivering form in bed. The duvet was messily strewn and his pillows were damp with sweat. Most frighteningly, he was pale, sallow.

"No, no, ok, Jeongin, you'll be ok, I'll get you some help," she grasped his hand tightly, kissing his knuckles gently was tightly gripping her phone as she rang for an ambulance.

It wasn't until the paramedics wheeled him out of the room on a stretcher, that she found a folded piece of paper, her name scribbled across it messily, like the writer barely had a grip of the pen. Sniffling with tears appearing in her eyes, it wasn't until Jeongin was rushed off into a private room, with mutterings from the nurses of 'a bad case of Hanahaki Disease', that she was able to read the letter. There wasn't any chance in the ambulance for she was too busy begging the cruel gods above for them to give her best friend a second chance.

I didn't want this to happen, but I knew as time went on, things would probably end this way. And I would like you to love me, but I'd never force that upon you. So instead, I thought I'd tell you all the things I love about you, because you're who I live for.

I love the way you cackle when I do something clumsy, makes it hurt less, I suppose.

"Jeongin, you pabo!" she cackled loudly, clutching her chest and trying to catch her breath as she watched him trip over the rug and bump his leg on the corner of his coffee table.

"Who put that there?!" Jeongin cried out, a smile tugged on his lips nonetheless.

"You bought it, silly!"

I love the way care for others, how you're so selfless, especially with me.

"Kimchi at your surface!"

"Oh my, you must be sleep deprived... You mean at your service?"

"Do you want it or not?"

"Let's eat together, come on, sit."

"I'm fine I've got to go and-"

"Sit down and eat with me, or so help me I will physically restrain you."

"Yes sir."

"I-"

She continued to read the letter, paragraph after paragraph until she reached the last part.

I am tired of this grief. I think these are the cards I've been dealt with and I'm ok with that now. I'm happy to have experienced life with you.

I love you, forever.

Sobs ripped through her throat, body crumpling in the uncomfortable chair of the hospital waiting room. The feeling of impending grief so overwhelming, she didn't notice the raised eyebrows from others as her dial furiously turned towards a full, illuminating heart above her head.

Her feet pounded down the hallways, stray hairs invading her vision where everything felt like a blur. She needed to find him. Because she realised it now, she felt it.

Love.

"I get it now! Please! Don't take him away from me!" she begged, blurry figures of the nurses trying to hold her back but she struggled like a wild animal, needing him. "Please!"

They tried to soothe her, to calm her down, but they stopped when they saw the meter with the dial turned all the way up. And with that, she rushed to hold the love of her life, hands softly cradling his face, cold to the touch.

"It's ok, you'll be ok. Just let me sleep, love," Jeongin whispered with a sad smile, eyes fluttering slightly, heart monitor beeping ever so slowly. He looked drained, almost as much as his love meter was.

"No! I love you! And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to realise but-"

"You don't have to say these things, really. I get it, and that's ok."

It wasn't ok. Not to her.

With determination and sadness coursing through her veins, she pulls him towards her and connects their lips together. Passion and warmth flooded within her, and when she pulled away she was worried she had done the wrong thing when the meter above his head disappeared. However, seeing that smile light up his face, and bring new life to his eyes, told her the answer she needed.

"You're not leaving me. I can't let that happen," she sniffled, hugging him tightly.

"I'm here, you're here... I love you so much," Jeongin's voice cracked with a tinge of disbelief.

The nurses still left in the room watched on in amazement, mesmerised at the sight before them, two beating hearts, floating above the couple's heads. Pink. With a twinkle too.

Love was what let them truly live. You've got to nurture that flower within, and let it blossom, let it bloom. It dies when you start giving up, losing hope.But someone will come along to look after it, and just like that there is warmth in the world again. Hearts full of life, beating with newfound excitement at the love it is filled with.

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