#Hanahaki

[liluchunnies]

hanahaki au fanfic with Ivantill where Ivan chooses to forget Till when⁉️⁉️ but realistically I think Ivan would rather die than forget Till but err idk wait no maybe..ya idk anyways someone write it🗣️🗣️

If Ivan forgets everything, then Till bears the consequences and it’s this entire chase arc‼️‼️ which one do y’all think is worse

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I'm kind of surprised there aren't more Garak hanahaki* fics. There are some, certainly (I know @tokidokifish has two garashir hanahaki fics which are quite excellent), but the concept of being killed by your love is... very very "sentiment is the greatest weakness". It fits in well with Garak's arc.

You could do fatal hanahaki, but I'm also imagining like. chronic hanahaki where it applies to more than just romantic love. You could have a young Garak seeking Tain's approval as a mentor or father, coughing up flowers and getting mocked by him for it. You could have older Garak, finally no longer coughing up flowers for Tain, proud of his accomplishment in excising his "weakness", his sentiment. Garak at his height in the Obsidian Order, wondering if it's better to kill someone than be weakened by his sentiment for them. Then, Garak's even older, and he's just been exiled, and now he's coughing up flowers for Cardassia, his home, who no longer wants or needs his services. There's always a flower caught in his throat on the station. This becomes normal to him; he can't just stop loving Cardassia. Maybe he doesn't even notice when, later, Julian's petals join the mix - he just assumes that his longing for home is getting ever stronger.

idk. there's potential, is what I'm saying. <3

*for those unfamiliar - hanahaki is a trope wherein, if a person is in (what they perceive to be) unrequited love with someone, particularly if they resent that it's unrequited or try to repress the feelings, they may develop flowers/vegetation which grow within their lungs, causing them to cough up petals. the main "cure" is resolution of the feelings, such as them being requited (or learned to have been requited all along, often) or being accepted or abandoned. Often, it is written as fatal unless cured in that way. it's also sometimes chronic and non-deadly instead.

PLEASE NOTE that it is rather easy to make this trope unintentionally Very aro-phobic (aphobic? or is that just for asexual? idk) (for example, commonly it's possible to get the flowers surgically removed, but doing so removes the ability of the patient to ever love again, and then they portray that as, like, the Worst Thing Imaginable, which... is obviously weird and rude. like i'm aromantic and i'm rather content, actually. maybe don't paint me as a demon in your cute lil shippy fic thanks. they'll actually be just fine if they can't love anymore, I prommy), so perhaps exercise some caution, and, uh. don't do that. that's aro-phobic as FUCK. but it's a fun trope if done well. leads to lots of angsty pining and near-death-experiences <3

[cornerfluff]

Tik Tok thoughts from me about MaSM Moon ngl

Hanahaki is such an interesting concept to me, especially for robots

Fanfic writers can steal 💯

[notnights]

Oh no! A joke I spent too long on. Update: there's a fanfic about this now (heed the tags).

[azuremist]

I think that more fanfiction should be written with the aim to tackle the original meaning of hanahaki. Because when the concept of hanahaki disease was originally created, it was intended to be a metaphor for suppressing one’s feelings.

Your feelings are this beautiful garden of flora inside of your chest. When you express how you feel honestly, you allow for it to grow freely. But when you hide how you feel out of fear of rejection, and try to make it smaller and smaller, the flowers become cramped inside of you, until you choke on your own feelings. Every flower you cough up is something you’ve felt, but refused to say.

The whole “dying” thing is intended to be more symbolic especially. You’re killing off bits and pieces of yourself and how you feel, because you’re afraid to express yourself.

It’s not really supposed to be, “The one I love doesn’t love me back, and I’m dying from it.” Rather, it’s more along the lines of, “Repressing your emotions is bad for you, and it’s better and healthier to express them freely, even when it’s scary.”

Which is to say that, one, the cure for the disease should be telling the person that you are in love with how you feel. How the other person feels about the person afflicted should have nothing to do with it, as the trope is meant to be about feeling your emotions unapologetically.

And that, two, it’s not an inherently romantic trope. Obviously, it has romantic applications, but it can be written for any situation where a character is hiding how they truly feel. This can include a refusal to address a specific trauma, a desire to indulge in something that they’re ashamed of, and even really practical things, like wanting to ask one’s boss for a higher position.

Although (as an aromantic person myself) I don’t agree with this conclusion about the trope, this application would also avoid people calling it arophobic. When the thing killing the character is a refusal to be honest with themselves, rather than an unrequited love, it’s on nobody’s hands but their own to save their life.

There are a ton of ways that this interpretation of the hanahaki disease could be applied in new and interesting ways in fanfiction, and I’d love to read what things people could come up with!

[tyeth]

🌹 Day 23: Nature 🌹

Nature? Did you mean hanahaki curse? Come on, was I really going to draw a peaceful forest walk? Me? When I could (painfully) render a dozen flowers instead? Never.

So many characters could have really fit the hanahaki curse theme but I really got it into my head that I had to do Xie Lian with it first.

[allpiesforourown]

Usually I don't care for Hanahaki but I've had the dumbest idea for insane toxic bingge trying to Stockholm syndrome shen yuan

Shen yuan waking up with his hands chained to a bed, binghe ominously looming over him

Binghe: you think I didn't notice you coughing up those flowers, shen yuan? You think I'll let you just die after I've crossed worlds looking for the shizun i deserve? Struggle against your restraints, but you're not going anywhere. You will forget whoever it is you ""love"" the second you experience this lord’s touch. You'll understand I can give you things no one else could dream of. From now on you'll love ME.

Shen yuan, who was in fact in love with binghe: Oh um. Okay. I can do that...

They're married and live together happily ever after. Shen yuan is glad binghe took the first step because he would have been too thin faced to confess. Binghe is glad he kidnapped shen yuan and 'forcibly' made him his wife.

[cicadaart]

Been drawing nonstop all week but I did it!!

[Edit: but wait, there’s more!]

Bonus without text:

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Do you ever think about cumplane hanahaki? About Shen Yuan dying first, never leaving another comment anymore. About Shang Qinghua believing that Peerless Cucumber abandoned him? That after all these chapters, he finally had enough of him, Airplane PIDW, and his biggest fan and hater gave up on him? About Shang Qinghua dying second, believing that the only person who believed in his potential, who had seen him, had enough of him?

About Shang Qinghua being reborn as a child, growing flowers in his lungs from a young age? About him suffocating, suffering from a flower he made up, because of an illness he made up, in a world he made up? About him needing to practice cultivation to survive? About doctors telling him that his heart must have broke in his previous life, that's why he had hanahaki? About him realizing, that all those times he deliberately wrote the worst smut in life just to tease Cucumber, all those times he made up a new beast just to make Cucumber happy, was because he'd been in love with his biggest frenemy?

About him becoming a disciple, then a Peak Lord with flowers in his lungs, frozen by his cultivation, but never gone, because he had to live in a world he built, in the world that reminded him of Cucumber every day, hour, minute and second?

About him noticing that one of his martial siblings behaved weird after a qi deviation, so unlike anything he'd ever wrote? About him giving away himself to Shen Qingqiu, just to be ask whether he was Airplane? About him realizing that the person he'd been in love with for all those years, was there? With him?

About how he could finally breathe the first time they kiss? About him never needing to worry about getting hanahaki again, because they were together, and they would be together forever, because even their contingency plans had contingency plans?

[superbat-love]

Hanahaki AU. Clark visits Bruce Wayne's mansion for an interview and is immediately struck by the overwhelming presence of flowers, filling nearly every room. Upon closer inspection, he notices something disturbing—the petals are speckled with tiny traces of blood. Alarmed, Clark realizes Bruce is suffering from Hanahaki disease, a fatal condition caused by the pain of unrequited love.

Clark asks Bruce about it, and Bruce admits that he is in love with a superhero who could never return his feelings. However, Bruce doesn't disclose the identity of this person, leaving Clark to make his own assumptions. Clark unknowingly jumps to the conclusion that Bruce must be in love with Gotham’s mysterious vigilante, Batman.

This realization saddens Clark deeply. After all, he is secretly in love with Batman too. But despite his feelings, Clark can't sit idly by and allow Bruce to die from unrequited love. Determined to save him, Superman takes it upon himself to try and convince Batman to return Bruce’s feelings, hoping that it would stop the spread of the deadly flowers and cure Bruce.

However, before long, Clark begins to show symptoms of Hanahaki disease himself, the result of suppressing his own feelings for Batman. As his condition worsens, Batman starts noticing the telltale signs of the disease in Superman.

This seems to confirm Bruce's growing suspicion—that Superman is in love with Clark Kent, the reporter Bruce knows he's rumored to be close with. He resolves to help Superman and Clark be together, all while hiding his own love. After all, if Superman is trying to convince him to love someone else, it only affirms that his affections are not returned.

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Soooo Hanahaki disease am i right?

Part 2 Part 3

Luckily the guys arent in as immidiate danger as y/n because they can just open up their insides and get all that stuff out before it gets too bad... they could also just try to get over y/n but they would never do that

And y/n is just having a time being helplessly in love with their animatronic coworkers, too afraid to confess and too stubborn to forget about them

White clover and forget-me-nots if anyone is interested

[disjointed-art]

I couldn’t take it anymore! I had to finally post it!!

Catch my breath epilogue: breath of fresh air

They did it! They survived death twice and are moving into their future together!

Official preorder date for the printed book is April 20th!!! I’m still working on the bundle extras but I can share the date I’m planning on finally!!! Couldn’t yesterday because it’s not a joke lol

[solxamber]

Coughing up Love - Idia Shroud x reader

You don't think much of it when Idia starts acting weird because let's be real, that seems to be his default around you. Wait are those flowers he's coughing up?

There’s something odd about Idia lately. He’s acting weird—well, weirder than usual, and that’s saying a lot for someone who’s mastered the art of avoiding people for weeks at a time. It’s subtle at first. His normally snarky, rapid-fire commentary seems more hesitant, his usual screen-lit complexion a bit paler, and he’s excusing himself mid-game way more often than usual.

And, most bizarre of all, every time you hang out, he always seems to keep something in his mouth. Gum, candy, or, more suspiciously, a fist pressed against his lips like he’s hiding something. You know Idia— he's socially awkward, sure, but when it’s just the two of you gaming or chatting, he’s rarely this strange.

Today, the two of you are halfway through an intense raid when he suddenly stands up, his chair creaking violently as he jerks upward.

“Pause! Time out, emergency bathroom break,” he blurts out, yanking his headset off with lightning speed and scrambling for the door.

You frown, watching his character get obliterated on screen. “Dude, you could’ve at least—”

“BRB!” he shouts, voice trailing off as he disappears into the hall. He’s gone in a flash, leaving you blinking at the door, wondering what just happened.

But that’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. Over the next few days, Idia pulls more disappearing acts than a badly programmed NPC. Mid-conversation? Poof, gone. Halfway through a snack? Vanished.

It takes a while, but eventually, the pieces staet to click together. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, face flushed pink, a hand pressed firmly to his mouth as he stifles a coughing fit during one of your game nights. At first, you’re concerned—it’s not like him to get sick, not seriously anyway. You suggest getting him medicine or a trip to the infirmary, but Idia adamantly waves it off.

“I-it’s nothing!” he stammers, trying to hold it together while choking down the coughs. “Just, uh, allergies! Y’know, dust and stuff. Old consoles… gotta, uh, clean them more…”

Suspicious. Old consoles? In Ignihyde? Yeah, right. You narrow your eyes, but drop the subject—at least for now. It’s not until later, when you see something float from his mouth—something blue and oddly petal-like—that you realize what’s happening.

You’ve heard of Hanahaki before. It’s practically a meme among some circles—an outdated trope, really. People coughing up flowers because of unrequited love? What is this, a 2000s anime fanfic? But now, watching a crumpled blue petal fall to the floor in slow motion, you realize that your very own shut-in gamer might be the rare exception to the rule.

The worst part? He’s really, really bad at hiding it.

A few days later, you invite him to hang out at Ramshackle, hoping the quiet environment will calm whatever’s been causing his weird behavior. Things seem fine at first—until you notice him coughing into his sleeve again.

This time, he has a backup plan.

“Are you okay?” you ask, brow raised as he muffles yet another cough.

“Yeah, totally! Just, um…” He rifles through his bag and pulls out a—oh dear sevens, is that a mask?

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You’re… you’re seriously wearing a mask now?”

“It’s for—” He coughs violently again, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. “For, uh, germs! You know, flu season! Gotta… gotta be prepared…”

You squint at him. “We’re indoors. And it’s summer.”

“Exactly!” he says, as if that makes sense. “The germs are, like, in the air! Sneaky buggers!”

The mask stays on for the rest of the evening, and every time you glance at him, you see his eyes flick away like he’s hiding something worse than a little cough.

His next attempt is, frankly, genius in its stupidity. You’re in his dorm, playing a co-op game, when the inevitable happens: he starts hacking up petals. At first, he plays it off with a hurried gulp of water, but soon the coughing becomes too much. With a gasp, he fumbles for something on his desk—a box of tissues? No, it’s a full-on dust mask this time.

“Idia, what the fu—”

“Pro-gamer tip,” he interrupts, voice muffled behind the mask. “Always be prepared for, uh… dust allergies! It’s, uh, a top-tier strat. Totally not s-suspicious.”

Dust? When he has Ortho making sure that he doesn’t perish? You stare, absolutely dumbfounded. “I’m starting to think you’re more allergic to honesty than dust.”

He laughs—well, tries to. It comes out as a garbled mix of coughing and awkward chuckles. “W-what are you talking about? I’m fine! Really!”

“Fine?” You raise an eyebrow, watching as more petals spill out of his sleeve. “You’re literally falling apart, dude.”

At this, his face burns bright pink, and his hair flares up, turning from it's usual blue to a mortified rosy hue. “N-no I’m not!” he protests weakly. “J-just a little springtime cold, that’s all.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say, crossing your arms. “Because spring colds definitely involve coughing up whole bouquets.”

There’s a brief pause as you both stare at the mess of petals on the floor. Idia winces, clearly defeated, and slumps back into his chair.

“...Crap.”

The look of his face tells you to let it go and you do, believing that it'll probably resolve itself. You weren't from this world, maybe it was common here and you were the one that's overreacting?

After another week of weird excuses, mask-related antics, and watching him suffer through increasingly ridiculous attempts to hide his Hanahaki, you’ve had enough. You’re going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

You catch him mid-cough during one of his solo raids, bursting into his room without warning. Idia practically jumps out of his seat, slamming the pause button and whirling around with wide eyes.

“W-what are you doing here!?” he yelps, trying (and failing) to hide the petals littering his desk. “I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Really? Because it looks like you’ve been coughing up whole flowers,” you say, deadpan, as you point to the pile of blue petals strewn across his keyboard. “Seriously, Idia. What’s going on?”

He freezes. For a moment, the room is deadly silent—except for the faint sound of digital gunfire in the background. His face, already pale, turns ghostly white, and his flames flicker pink in embarrassment.

“I…” He stammers, looking everywhere but at you. “I didn’t… It’s not…”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Spit it out. Or should I say, ‘cough it out?’”

It’s the worst joke you’ve ever made, and yet, somehow, it breaks the tension. Idia lets out a wheezing, awkward laugh, though it quickly dissolves into another coughing fit. This time, he doesn’t even try to hide it—just pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his arms, defeated.

“I’m such a loser,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “I thought maybe… maybe if I ignored it, it’d just go away. Y’know, like a glitch or something.”

Your heart clenches at the sight of him, all curled up and vulnerable. It’s so unlike the cocky, trash-talking gamer you’ve come to know. You crouch down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Idia,” you say softly, “you’re not a loser.”

He peeks out from behind his arms, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Y-yeah, right. I’m just the guy who gets Hanahaki because I can’t even confess like a normal person.”

You blink. “Wait—Hanahaki? Like actually?”

You did not expect that. You expected it to be some weird disease that was native to twisted wonderland and not actually Hanahaki of all things.

Idia winces, his hair turning a bright shade of pink as he realizes what he’s just admitted. He looks away, fiddling nervously with the edge of his sleeve. “...Yeah. It’s stupid, I know.”

For a moment, you’re speechless. All those strange behaviors, the coughing, the flowers—it all makes sense now. He’s got Hanahaki, and he’s been trying to hide it because…

“Idia…” you whisper, heart pounding. “You love me?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body trembling. “I-I mean, i-it’s not like I expect you to feel the same! I know I’m not, like, Vil-level handsome or anything. I just… didn’t want to ruin things.”

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Idia goes completely still. His hair flares up, a brilliant pink, as he slowly opens his eyes in disbelief.

“Y-you…” he stammers, voice barely a whisper.

You smile softly. “I love you too, you dork.”

For a second, he just stares at you, as if he can’t quite process what you’ve said. Then, with a choked sob, he flings himself into your arms, burying his face in your shoulder as the last of the petals fall away.

“I’m such an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of relief in his voice. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart against your chest.

"You’re not an idiot," you murmur, gently running your fingers through his hair. The flames have cooled down to a soft, warm pink, flickering faintly in the dim light of the room. "And you don’t need to be Vil-level handsome. You’re just you, and that’s more than enough."

Idia snorts, though it’s more out of disbelief than amusement. "Yeah, right. I’m just the weirdo who plays video games all day and coughs up flowers. Super attractive."

You pull back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Hey, I don’t care about that. Do you think I’d be hanging out with you all the time if I didn’t like you? I’m here because I care about you, Idia."

For a moment, Idia just stares at you, his mouth slightly open like he’s trying to come up with some kind of retort, but nothing comes out. He looks… overwhelmed, his usual sarcastic defense mechanisms short-circuiting under the weight of your words. His eyes dart away, then back to you, and finally, with a shaky breath, he mutters, "I don’t get it… Why me?"

You smile, brushing a stray petal from his hair. "Because you’re kind, even if you don’t realize it. You’re funny, you make me laugh all the time—even when you’re not trying. And you’re smart, way smarter than you give yourself credit for. I like being with you, Idia. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t."

His face flushes a deeper pink, his flames flickering erratically as he shifts nervously in your arms. "I-I… I don’t know what to say…" he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought for sure you’d think I was a weirdo or something."

You chuckle softly, resting your forehead against his. "Well, you’re my weirdo, then."

That earns a shaky laugh from him, though it quickly turns into another coughing fit. You gently rub his back as he coughs, but this time, instead of petals, there’s just the sound of his breath gradually evening out. He looks at you, wide-eyed, as if expecting to see more flowers—more proof of his self-doubt.

But the petals are gone. The weight that’s been crushing his chest, suffocating him with every breath, has finally lifted.

Idia stares at you for a long moment, his expression softening as the reality of the situation settles in. His arms loosen around you, but he doesn’t pull away—he stays close, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh that’s both relieved and exhausted.

"Does this mean…" He hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. "Does this mean we’re… together now?"

You grin, tilting his chin up so he has no choice but to meet your gaze. "If you want us to be."

Idia’s face erupts into a brilliant shade of pink, and for a moment, you think his face might actually catch fire. He quickly looks away, fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt, but there’s a small, shy smile playing on his lips.

"I-I guess that’d be… kinda nice," he mumbles, almost inaudible.

You laugh softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "It’s more than nice, Idia. It’s perfect."

For the first time since you’ve known him, Idia doesn’t argue. He doesn’t self-deprecate or brush off your words with sarcasm. Instead, he lets out a soft, content sigh, resting his head against you again, his flames warm and steady.

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice filled with quiet relief. "I think it is."

And for once, Idia Shroud—the boy who always felt like he didn’t deserve happiness—finally lets himself believe it.

You stay like that for a while, curled up together in the quiet of his room, the low hum of his gaming console filling the background. It’s peaceful in a way you never expected with Idia, who’s usually so frantic and anxious. But now, with the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, he’s calm. Happy, even.

After a long moment, he pulls back slightly, glancing at the screen. "Uh… w-we left the raid halfway through," he mumbles, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "My bad. We probably wiped the whole party by now."

You laugh, ruffling his hair. "I think they’ll survive without us for a bit. But we can jump back in if you’re up for it."

Idia hesitates for a second, then shakes his head. "Nah… I’d rather just… stay here. With you."

The admission is so soft, so vulnerable, that it makes your heart ache in the best possible way. You smile, pulling him close again, and this time, he doesn’t flinch or make any excuses. He just rests his head on your shoulder, his pink flames flickering contentedly.

Maybe it’s not the typical "fairy tale" kind of love. It’s awkward and a little messy, filled with gaming mishaps and coughing up flowers. But it’s real. And for Idia, that’s more than enough.

he's reminds me of a pathetic wet cat left in the rain but god do I love him

Masterlist

[d-llahanspade]

i’m currently writing a fic where Wednesday develops the Hanahaki Disease over Enid and I’d love to see your interpretation of that if you’re ever looking for something to draw 🫶

Sorry it took me like forever to draw this, I kept getting distracted.

(hope you don’t mind I’m using this as a test for an art style I’m working on lol)

I have head canons the the flowers that grow in the afflicted persons lungs are always their crush’s favourite flowers.

[inthe-echo]

Hanahaki Regulus from Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of on ao3, GO READ IT ‼️

By @solmussa and @imdamagecontrol 🌸

[twilicidity]

You're suffocating.