Choked by roses, strangled on thorns

[simplememes]

The Hanahaki Disease Meme

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals...

1- Discovery:
There's the one person who makes your heart leap into your throat- but wait, that's not your heart. Where are all these flowers coming from? And why do they remind you of your beloved?

2- Concern:
Someone you know has been acting strange lately... Coughing a lot, hiding their hands all the time... It's enough to make anybody worry.

3- Sicker and Sicker:
Coughing up flower petals all the time isn't easy to hide. But it's getting harder to even breathe, now. You're going to have to make a decision, and soon...

4- Confession:
Everyone knows that there's two ways to get rid of Hanahaki: Surgery (the risk dependent on the time period), or confessing your feelings. Time to toe up and face your beloved and just tell them that you love them so much you're dying from it.

5- Post-Op:
The other option... You just couldn't tell them, but you weren't ready to die. Still, without those feelings the world seems a little less colorful. Can you still be friends with them now that you have to start all over? Do you want to?

6- Make your own!
There's flower petals coming out of somebody's mouth in some way for some reason- make this prompt your own.

Just as a note, due to the nature of the meme vivid descriptions of coughing/choking/gagging are probably going to happen. If you want it toned down, make sure to put that in your top-level.

Comments

Crowley || Good Omens

[gowithstyle]

[I WANT THIS SO BAD. SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE.]

[comfortably]

[ One day while they're out having lunch, on a totally normal afternoon: ]

And then she said -

[ He pauses, as he suddenly feels like he has a frog in his throat. He clears it, and tries to continue. ]

As I was saying, Ms. Sandwich, then -

[ Oh, no, it's still there. Feels just like a scratch. ]

Excuse me, I think perhaps I just need a little wine.

[gowithstyle]

[ Crowley is listening intently, his own glass of wine kept close and frequently sipped from. When Aziraphale first pauses and clears his throat, the demon raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. The second pause has him frowning slightly, and he gently pushes the half-empty bottle of wine on the table toward Aziraphale at the comment. ]

Have at.

[comfortably]

Thank you.

[ He takes a sip but then it only gets worse, and he starts hacking up a lung. ]

I'm so sorry --

[ He doesn't know what's happening, and he looks quite panicked, until something comes up. And he tries to keep it in his mouth, but then out it comes - a petal. Another petal. ]

--What on--?

do they even know what hanahaki disease is or are they oblivious?

[gowithstyle]

[ Now Crowley is alarmed. Is the angel — choking?! He nearly gets up, but then Aziraphale is covering his mouth as he coughs hard, and he seems to cough something up. Crowley can't tell what is it at first. He blinks behind dark lenses as he realizes. ]

Did you just — is that a flower petal?

guess that depends how much anime Crowley watches

[comfortably]

[ He looks at it and then pokes at it with the back of his fork. ]

I.

[ It doesn't turn to flame or jump out at him or anything. He leans in and then hiccups a whole flower girls' basket full of rose petals. ]

--I'm dreadfully sorry!

[ He tries to gather them up, embarrassed as people start to look over their way. ]

[gowithstyle]

[ Oh. There's more petals. A lot of them. Enough for at least six roses, if not more. The dark red petals would be pretty, under other circumstances, but not coming out of Aziraphale in the middle of a very public restaurant.

He stands then, circles around the table to Aziraphale's side. He places a hand on his shoulder and boom, they're no longer in the restaurant, but rather Aziraphale's quiet, quaint bookshop; Crowley used a minor demonic miracle to pay their tab, as well as blank out the memories of the few curious onlookers. Guiding Aziraphale to a chair, he has him sit. ]

Has this happened — before?

[comfortably]

[ Oh, back in the bookshop. Good. Perfect. He sits down in the chair, and tries to calm himself, though he's turning a little bit pale from feeling the petals form in his mouth, now knowing what that feeling is on his tongue.

All the while panicking, he does feel a little bad for Crowley, but feels touched all the same that he'd jump into action. Never misses a chance to rescue Aziraphale, and for all those years, all those daring rescues, he's rather grateful. But he's never really said.

For some reason, he gets the urge to tell him something, but that seems wildly inappropriate. Instead, he reaches for some sort of receptacle to spit up in, and spit up he does. Even with the pot in his arms, the petals flutter out and litter the carpets, looking like a spring day after a rainstorm. ]

No --! Not in six thousand --

[ To his horror, a fully-formed rosebud joins the pile. ]

[gowithstyle]

[ Crowley frowns as Aziraphale continues to spit up petals. There's so many. And now they're on the carpet, scattered about. Then he coughs up a whole rosebud! Crowley stares at that rosebud, frowning. He thinks he knows what's happening, but why — or rather, who does Aziraphale love so desperately it's making him sick? ]

Have you heard of Hanahaki disease?

[comfortably]

--No! Is it --

[ He keeps having to swallow them down, and it's not working, as now he gets more colors, bright red, white, blush. ]

--Is it Japanese?

[ Not that that helps him, so he amends his question, now only getting a few words at a time, so he feels the need to say them sparingly. ]

What do you know about it?

[gowithstyle]

Yeah, it is.

[ Still frowning, he looks away from Aziraphale, from the petals that are gradually getting more colorful. ]

It's — it's caused by being... love-sick. But that's — are you —

[ He hesitates on the question, diverts. ]

Did you — eat something weird? Drink something?

[comfortably]

Love sick?

Oh, Crowley, no, no.

[ He tries to shove him away, but he doesn't do a very good job of it. ]

You can't be here for this.

Please.

[ His cheeks get all big, and suddenly, there's a full bloom coming out of his mouth, a giant, pink, peony. ]

[gowithstyle]

[ Crowley's frown deepens at the attempt to shove him away. He does step back, but he doesn't leave. ]

I'm not leaving you like —

[ He's interrupted by the peony erupting from Aziraphale's mouth. ]

— this. [ He gestures at Aziraphale, at the petals that are quickly becoming overwhelming. ] Let me help you.

[ He doesn't know how to help, though. Maybe they can miracle this away? ]

[comfortably]

No, no, I'm afraid there's --

[ He coughs up a few ranunculi, tossing them to the side of the shop. ]

--There's nothing you can do, I'm afraid.

I - I just can't.

[ He just can't tell Crowley how he actually feels, even after all these years. But he's sure that Crowley already knows, now, what with the stupid sickness. ]

Is there another way to - rid of it?

[gowithstyle]

Just can't — what?

[ There's frustration coloring his voice. Then, he sighs. ]

There is a surgery, I think, but it — it takes away the feelings, the love that caused this in the first place.

[ And that would be a tragedy for whoever Aziraphale pines for, wouldn't it? ]

[comfortably]

Just can't tell --

[ He gets a rose, and unfortunately, it's all thorns, and it rips up his throat a little bit, so there's a bit of blood on this one. It's followed by mums and datura, which is -- morbid. ]

Crowley, it's --

[ He looks so panicked now, because he doesn't want to lose the feelings either. That's so many years of love, that would be excised. It would leave him empty. ]

--It's you!

[ As he says this, he gives a cute little cough, as a last petal putters out of his mouth. ]

[gowithstyle]

[ At the sight of that bit of blood on the rose, Crowley nearly performs another demonic miracle to try to stop this mess only to be frozen in place by the sudden exclamation. Him? Aziraphale is lovesick for him? That's — not possible. But the petals seem to have stopped with the confession. ]

Oh.

[ He breathes out, tries to gather his tangled thoughts. ]

Angel, I — how long have you loved me?

[ Why didn't he realize? ]

[comfortably]

[ He tries to gather himself, and the blood has stopped, at least. There are no more petals.

There might be nightingales. He thinks he might hear one. He doesn't know if it's just delusion. ]

I don't know. Awhile! Perhaps always. I haven't always known it, but... oh, does it matter? I'm sorry, Crowley. I can't help it. But... things don't have to change!

[gowithstyle]

[ Perhaps always. That punches the air out of Crowley. He abruptly drops to his knees in the pile of discarded petals and flowers, grabbing Aziraphale's hands. ]

No, no, don't apologize. I — I love you. I love you, and I should have said it sooner so you didn't have to go through this.

[ One of his hands lifts, thumb brushing just underneath Aziraphale's mouth where there's still a spot of blood. ]

I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't realize...

[comfortably]

You-- you do?

[ Of course he does. But the confession feels sudden, like they've just burst a bubble they've been delicately trying to maneuver around for years. An eternity, almost. ]

--Well come, come up here, please.

[ But first he wipes away at his mouth, just in case he's still bleeding. It certainly still kind of tastes of blood but he miracles himself healed, and he's all sweet smiles, feeling a swell of emotions. Tears rise, as he tries to blink them away; he thinks he's been enough of a mess today. ]

Dreadfully sorry I made you wait. All this time.

[gowithstyle]

I do.

[ He shifts closer to Aziraphale, noticing the tears that wet his eyes. ]

Oh, Angel. Those better be happy tears.

[ Crowley leans up then, pressing his mouth to Aziraphale's in a gentle, sweet kiss. ]

[comfortably]

[ He means to say that of course they are, but he gets cut off by the kiss first. He melts into it, holding Crowley to himself. ]

My dear...

[ He smiles, lovestruck. ]

Will you hold me?

[gowithstyle]

[ Crowley nods, smoothly getting up off his knees. Some petals stick to his lower legs. He makes a gesture and the mess of petals and flowers Aziraphale coughed up is miracled away, disappearing. ]

Whatever you want. Let's move to the sofa in the flat?

[comfortably]

Oh, yes. Let's.

[ He pulls Crowley in close, and Crowley will have to miracle them away in order to move them, since Aziraphale doesn't seem to want to let go.

[gowithstyle]

[ He huffs out a small, amused sound when Aziraphale pulls him in so close that it's impossible for them to move without a miracle. Crowley snaps and they're transported to said sofa. ]