bakerstreet | Choked by roses, strangled on thorns

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?

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? ]

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. ]

[ 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? ]

[ 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!

[ 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...

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.

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. ]

[ 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?

[ 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?

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.

[ 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. ]

Ah. I haven't been here in too long.

[ But he doesn't care about taking a look around. ]

[ The sofa in question is a dark red. Velvet, maybe, or something similar. He guides Aziraphale down onto it, arms wrapping around him. ]

Is this good?

[ He's never just held someone before. ]

It's perfect.

[ He looks up at Crowley with stars in his eyes, like the first time they met. ]

I'm so very sorry I never told you - before.

[ Crowley relaxes into holding Aziraphale. ]

I share the blame here. I could've told you myself but I didn't.

Well, perhaps you were afraid of what I would say. And oh, Crowley... I can't say I did much to inspire you.

But I am happy we figured it out.

Choked by roses, strangled on thorns

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