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countessmorgasson · 4 years ago

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Hibiscus

Asra x MC! An illness forces Asra to spill his deepest secret.

For those of you who don’t know, Hanahaki disease is a fictional illness where the infected coughs flower petals as a result of unrequited love.

Gender Neutral MC

IMPORTANT: This fic comes with two possible endings!

(Disclaimer: AU, not based on Asra’s route, but still contains story spoilers. Lemon warning depending on your choice.)

TW: Illness, blood, death

“It’s been happening for weeks now. Probably longer, but he’s been so secretive about it. I don’t know what to do.”

You’re nearly collapsed in exhaustion, resting yourself against Julian’s desk hours after your bedtime. Desperation keeps you awake and restless as the doctor rifles through various scrolls and notes in his office.

Asra’s sick.

He’s been sick. For ages, it seems- and it’s not exactly the common cold. If you hadn’t shared a space together he’d probably get away with hiding his condition that much longer, but he’s breaking down, and you’re starting to find the pieces.

It started with hiccups, you remember. Small ones, similar to when he had a drink too many- but with a deadlier rasp to his voice. Those transitioned into something you never wanted to hear; desperate, pained coughing. There were nights where the sound was so unbearable you found yourself away from the shop- after being denied one too many times. He’d never let you take care of him.

And then there were the flower petals. You’ve been finding them in the most peculiar spots; swept under the counters, circling the drains, and even on Asra’s bedding. Pink and white flakes follow your master like moths to a flame, and yet you’ve only now come to connect the dots- when you picked one up to see it streaked with blood.

You’re not sure exactly how long he’s been like this, but it’s gotten bad- and confusing. Something you’ve never seen before, even as a magician’s apprentice.

So here you are, hours behind on your sleep schedule with poor Julian shuffling through a mixed stack of medical and spell books. You try your hardest to keep up, but your mind drifts back to the shop- is Asra sick right now? Is he in pain?

“Describe it again, m/c. Did you say flower petals? What do they look like?”

“They’re usually pink- if I had to guess I’d say they’re petals from some sort of hibiscus- but smaller.”

Pink hibiscus... your favorite flowers.

Julian’s eyes rest on the book cracked open across the desk- on a specific page. The only thing keeping the room lit is a flickering lantern and a candle in the center of the office table, and the darkness obstructs your vision but you just know he’s found something of use. You can see it in the way his face falls.

“Could it be... Hanahaki disease?”

“What is that?”

Julian’s eyes skim the pages with frantic speed- he must not know either. All you can do is force your eyes open while you wait. Absolute torture. You wait, and you wait...

...

“Julian?” You’re bordering on hysteria in your tone- whether it’s because of fear or exhaustion, you don’t know. Why does he have that look on his face?

“Julian! Did you figure it out? What’s wrong?!”

“M/c...”

The book closes with a deafening thud.

“There’s no cure.”

Asra’s up before the sun again. You enter the shop just in time to hear him erupt into another fit of coughs- painful, by the sound of them. It takes all of your willpower not to turn back and wait outside.

You can’t take it anymore. You rush towards the sound and place your hand against Asra’s back, pretending you don’t notice how he hunches over the sink and how much he begins to strain when you get close.

“Relax, Asra,” you soothe. You feel magic underneath your palms as a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain. “Let it out.”

You shut your eyes when the petals fall into the sink, and your eyes burn. There’s silence now, aside from Asra’s heavy breathing. You continue to burn yourself out with magic, convinced that it’s helping him.

“M/c, go. I don’t want you to see this,” is the first thing he says to you.

You’re trying not to take it personally, but you don’t know how. Why can’t he let you help him? It’s the absolute least you can do. You think back to as far as your memory will allow- and he’s been there from the start. He’s fed you, cared for you, taught you everything you know- and yet he won’t let you return the favor?

Maybe it’s the exhaustion playing on your nerves, but now that he’s stopped coughing you find yourself balling your fists and blinking back hot tears.

“Why won’t you let me help?” Your voice is weak, but it paints a red flush across Asra’s cheeks.

“Because you can’t.”

So he knows.

Once again Asra knows something that you don’t, and there’s practically no chance that he’ll share that knowledge with you. That’s how it always is with him, isn’t it?

You can’t come with me, m/c. Not this time. I can’t explain it yet. Not this time. It’s better if you don’t know. Someday, when you’re stronger. Until then...

Words of the past begin to creep into your head, taunting you, twisting your emotions until you’re past exhaustion and completely seething. It isn’t fair.

For a moment, your eyes meet and you see what you think is guilt cross his face. It lasts only a moment, and he stands his ground.

“Don’t overwork yourself- you’re so tired your eyes are bloodshot. Just go to bed. I’ll be fine.”

My eyes aren’t bloodshot. I’ve been crying. You bite your tongue only because you’re moments away from collapsing. You glance back to the sink for traces of blood but you find none. If only you hadn’t been awake all night- surely you’d put up more of a fight. And yet, your exhaustion was more than just physical sleepiness. You still trudge upstairs to your bedroom.

If Asra wasn’t going to let you care for him today, you were going to get at least some sort of comfort. You flop onto your shared bed without so much as removing your shoes, but your eyes catch something that deters you from your sleep.

A single petal on the pillow- torn in two.

Now that you’ve gone upstairs, Asra could pace throughout the shop without interruption- or so he thought.

A harsh knock on the door raises goosebumps. What if you wake up? He can’t avoid you forever- and this illness was clearly taking a toll on you both. He pretended not to notice how you came home clearly in tears. There was soon going to be a day where he wouldn’t be able to bring you peace...

Shaking the morbid thoughts from his head, Asra hurried to open the doors before the visitor could pound against the door again.

“Julian?”

Oh, it only gets worse, doesn’t it? Even doctor Devorak’s got the same glossy look on his eyes. He’s like a single storm cloud against the sunny sky. He pushes past Asra with a dramatic turn of his cape, but when he’s entered the shop he stops the dramatic antics.

“Is it true? You’re suffering from Hanahaki disease?” He demands.

“Hush, Julian. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Asra has to avert his eyes once again.

“I’m a doctor, Asra. I know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s m/c, isn’t it?” His voice dips into a shattered whisper, but Asra can only roll his eyes with another frustrated sigh. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised to see you at the foot of the stairs, having heard it all. With that small fear in the back of his mind, Asra maintains the silence despite the doctor’s pleading eyes.

“You’re... in love with your apprentice?”

“Must you ask?”

Asra never meant to hurt Julian- he had just made too many desperate choices. Even so, those were made years ago, before he had you back. Was Julian holding on to that pain all this time?

The silence answers that question- and neither of the two can look the other in the eyes.

“Well... regardless of how I feel,” Julian finally huffs. “You have to come clean. M/c doesn’t deserve to be left in the dark.”

Ugh! Julian wouldn’t understand. He never understood magic- he didn’t understand sacrifice, and surely he wasn’t going to understand why Asra can’t just tell you. If it were that easy, he would’ve told you everything years ago. There’s a reason you can only remember so far back, and it’s taken so many fights and tears for you to stop questioning it. It was for your safety, for goodness sakes!

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” By now Julian seems to have deflated. Even his hair suddenly seems to have drooped over his eyes. “If you really love m/c... you wouldn’t want them to be alone. But that’s what you’re doing- to both of us. You’re going to let yourself die without a word because you’re afraid of hurting them? How do you think they’ll feel when they have to bury you?”

It’s been a few days since your outburst. It seems like things could be better- you haven’t seen any petals around the shop. Could it be that Julian was wrong? Maybe Asra did know better and figured out how to heal himself.

Sinking back into bed, you kick yourself for getting your hopes up. You know better than to do that. Asra’s probably just gotten better at hiding them again. There was a reason why you’ve only come to notice the sickness now.

You woke up alone today. You and Asra didn’t always share a bed- it was more common the first two years, when he seemed to afraid to let you wander. Part of you starts to yearn for those years, even when it seemed painful just to be alive.

“M/c?”

His voice reaches you before you see him come into the room. You don’t even register the tears in his eyes at first.

You just see blood.

Dripping down his chin in small streaks of red- droplets staining the purple fabric of his favorite tunic. It’s even on his hand. He must have coughed into it.

The world seems to vanish around you. All you see is red.

“M/c, we’ve got to talk.”

...

The blood is cleaned up, but you’re still shaking. Your eyes are fixed on Asra’s lips, just waiting for the disease to manifest itself again. Does he know you’ve barely eaten since that night when you fought? You either sleep too much or not at all- and when you do, all you see are pink petals.

But they don’t come. You stare and stare but he doesn’t cough. He doesn’t bleed. Asra just sits. He cradles his tea with shaky hands and teary eyes.

“I...”

Shaking his head, he gazes into your eyes like it may be the last time.

It may...

No! Don’t let yourself think that. Julian was lying to you. There was a cure out there. If Vesuvia could be completely rid of the Red Plague within days, there was something that could do the same for whatever Asra has. What was it called again, Hanahaki disease? You’re still not sure what it is. Julian shut down the moment he read those words in one of his books. You’re still in the dark, but it doesn’t matter.

“I think it’s time I tell you... everything.” Asra reaches for your hand, but pulls away at the last moment.

Everything? Everything as in all the secrets you’ve been denied over the years? He was going to tell you why he never brought you along on his journeys, why he wouldn’t speak about your family, your missing memories, the painful headaches?

Why do you suddenly feel so sick? There’s got to be a reason why he’s coming clean after being so adamant earlier... and then you remember the blood.

Oh no.

“How do I start...” Asra sighs. “This is harder than I’d ever imagined, m/c.”

“Just say it.”

Eyes still trained on you, Asra lifts the cup of tea to his lips once again and breathes out deeply...

He’s in love with me.

The words ring through your head.

Out of everything you just learned, that struck the hardest. Harder than the realization that you had died. You always knew that- somehow. That wasn’t the shocking factor.

You’re waiting for your heart to catch up- but it never seems to. You’re just staring ahead of you, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’s in love with me. We were in love- for years.

“M/c...? M/c! Can you hear me?”

He’s so frantic, it’s contagious. His voice finally pulls you out of your own head.

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry. I...”

You clutch your teacup, practically waiting for it to shatter in your palm. And then the tears come.

“Asra... are you dying?”

When he’s quiet, the tears come harder. It still feels like there are things he won’t speak up about- things you may never know. It’s not fair! Doesn’t he understand what you’re feeling right now? He brought you back from the dead and you just have to brush over that tidbit because you’re so overwhelmed by the progressing illness- an illness that he clearly knows something about and still won’t tell you.

The guilt on Asra’s face seems to weigh him down. He’s barely looking at you at this point.

“Please... don’t cry.” He whispers.

“Don’t cry?” You exclaim. “How am I supposed to be okay right now?”

Despite your bitter response you bite down on your lip and hastily wipe the tears from your face. Your throat feels so raw, painfully constricting during the silence.

“I can’t lose you, Asra.”

Your eyes meet before you can finish the sentence. There it is again. Those cosmic purple eyes bore into you while you struggle to find the words.

“...Because I love you.”

“...Because you’re my best friend.”

#the arcana #the arcana fic #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #ANGST #ANGSTY #my writing #mine #long fic #hanahaki #hanahaki dise #tw blood #tw angst #tw illness #lemon #julian #asra x mc

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byeolhyesisi · 3 years ago

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DEAR J.; JUNG JAEHYUN

songwriter!jaehyun x bestfriendandlyricist!reader

You watched him fall in love with her slowly, resulting for an unexpected rose that bloomed because of your unreciprocated feelings.

genre: angst, short fic, best friend au, hanahaki disease au

warnings: mention of death, slight gore(?), things may be happening too fast, THIS IS ALSO NOT PROOFREAD SO I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE ><

words: 2k+ words

tags: @jwoos-colored @mmarrie @neotechhsworld @je4nsv @bbjisungg @angel-hyuckie @trashlord-007 @joker0705

dedicated to: @kjpmin

It was an obscure feeling. You felt it every time you were around him. Was it because of how he styled his hair? The way he dressed? The way he would furrow his eyebrows in concentration while writing a song, or was it because you were in love with your best friend?

That's right, you're in love with the dork you became close with in junior high and even though you tried to get rid of it, it's obvious that you failed. Where do we even start with Jung Jaehyun? Where do we even start with this man that has it all. A goofy and warm personality, a well mind, an adorable smile and a face that is one of a kind. It never occurred in your mind that you would develop such feelings. You never thought that you would love your closest friend. He pursued a career in songwriting while you became a lyricist. The two of you would work together often; sometimes Jaehyun would joke around with the lyrics, and sometimes you would play with the beats he made, singing a random tune and jokingly singing it off-key. Those were some of the good moments you both share when you guys work together.

He had the talent and you knew he had a lot of passion in it. The way his eyes sparkled every time a song he wrote came to life, he adored it and you adored him.

You realized that you have fallen when a pleasant feeling surrounds your chest in every little thing he does such as when he would scrunch his nose, fix his hair, and fiddle with his fingers. It was a dangerous move to love him more than as a friend, but it was a move you were willing to do. And with that dangerous move, it'll cost your heart.

You and Jaehyun worked at the same studio and you watched as he fell in love everyday with the intern who arrived just a week before. You knew it was love at first sight because with just a glance from your lovestruck eyes, you knew they instantly fell in love; you were familiar with the first realization a person has when they fancy someone. It was painful but who were you to feel bitter about it? You're his best friend and that's all you're ever going to be. Jealousy wanted to make it's way to you but you didn't let it consume you; in the end, who were you to feel that way? It was hard since you see their interactions five times a week; their actions said it all, their eyes were telling the words they couldn't say to eachother. You watched as they get closer, wanting to confess their feelings while your feelings for him was nothing but a tacenda. The once pleasant and joyous feeling in your heart was soon replaced by affliction.

He approached you for advice here and then. It was funny that you were helping him be with another girl when all you wanted was for him to be yours. You even helped him with the song he plans on using to confess to her, and well, you thought of doing the same. While your best friend fell in love, you also made your own confession; a song that will convey the unspoken love of your aching heart, but you have no intentions of showing it to him. You're only doing it just to help lift the weight off of your shoulders.

However you soon started to notice an itch to your throat that became worse day by day. You took medicine, hoping it would work, but it just didn't go away. It wasn't until one morning when you coughed up blood accompanied by a single rose petal, chuckling bitterly as you confirmed that he truly did love her and it wasn't just some fling that would disperse in thin air. You caught the disease of unreciprocated love but you accepted it with open arms. You had no plans on telling him nor anyone; you'd rather keep it to yourself. Slowly, it wasn't just black ink that was on your lyric paper. In every cough you did there was at least small amount of blood splatters that stained the white paper crimson red.

You wrote everyday as you kept yourself away from others, stuck in the darkness of your own home, pouring the unkept confessions in a piece of paper. Once the song was finished, it was filled with your melancholic words. The lyrics itself acted as your letter to him.

There was a cure for your illness and that was through surgery and reciprocated love; you already knew that the latter will never happen, even in your wildest dreams. He was like the end of the universe, he was unreachable. You considered having the surgery but you decided against it. This fatal love you have for your best friend is also your most cherished experience. Loving him felt euphoric before the despair washed you away like a giant wave. The same question keeps on popping up in your head; "why can't you do it for yourself?" and it was because your answer was always him.

The sore throat just felt like hell. You feel like the coughing is slowly reducing your blood count as the flower that continues to grow inside you begins to suffocate you in the most delicate way. You've been absent at the studio for over a week already but it seemed like Jaehyun paid no mind. It seemed like he was already happy and busy with his lover that he didn't even notice your absence. You're still his best friend after all. Did he really just forgot about you? In the midst of your depressing days bedridden and exhausted from your pain, another dear friend of yours, who also worked at the studio, paid you a visit. You swore you felt alive when you thought it was him. You hoped that it was him before you opened the door, but that glimpse of liveliness died down when it wasn't the face you were wishing it to be. "(Y/N) you look horrible! What happened to you?" The concerned voice of Wendy echoed through the soulless home just as her gaze was on you. She looked around until she finally saw the mess. The petals and small stains of blood were everywhere: on the floor, on the bed and on the carpet. Wendy instantly knew what was wrong and with that, she asked a question that was answered immediately by your swollen eyes looking at her; and the question was: "Is it Jaehyun?"

She immediately took you to the hospital but all the doctor said was it's too late. The doctor said the flower is about to bloom in a few hours, it was pretty much impossible to do the surgery on your condition now. He also stated that the flower was growing quite rapidly, it was unusual, he said. It was three times faster than the normal growth and it was unknown why because of the lack of information and studies with your disease; it just showed how fatal your love for him truly was. You didn't feel too surprised by the news though, because in the days that you were just locked inside your room, you have accepted everything. You have accepted that the reason you're going to die is because of love.

The doctor suggested for you to be admitted at the hospital but you refused. If you were going to die today, you don't want to burden people with your hospital bills. If you were going to die then you thought you should just die in the comfort of your own home. Wendy tried to talk you out of your decision but in the end, she couldn't change your mind. She drove you home and once she pulled up in front of your house you saw his figure sitting on your front porch, Jung Jaehyun.

You wanted to feel extremely glad because of his presence but all you felt was weakness, the fragility of your life. Jaehyun felt more concerned as he saw the sight of your paleness. Your eyes that once shined are now empty and sunken. He was already concerned the first day you didn't show up at work but he never got the time to check up on you. Solely because he was busy and well, his girlfriend. Jaehyun wanted to tell you that they're finally official but you stopped attending work. He wanted to express how happy he was and how thankful he is because without your help, he doesn't think he would be able to confess. But now as he looks at your current state, he felt guilty. Jaehyun wished he visited you sooner if he knew that you were in this vulnerable state.

Wendy helped you get off of her car carefully, holding you as if you could collapse any moment now. "What happened, (Y/N)?" Jaehyun uttered, his baritone voice displayed his worry. "It's—" your attempt at answering hurt, all you were able to do was croak out one word. "It's nothing, Jaehyun." Wendy answered him for you. "What do you mean by it's nothing!? She literally looks like she's dying." He exclaimed a bit loudly; without knowing that it was all because of him. "Tell me what's wrong with her right now." Jaehyun demanded.

When an argument between the two of your friends was about to start, a violent cough came out from your throat, almost choking on the blood and petals that you proceeded to spew and it caught them off guard. Jaehyun quickly aided you, his hands rested on your shoulders as he stood beside your rather infirm figure. However you felt too... tired. You could feel it, the gradual growth of the flower is taking over. Gasping for air as the plant constricts your airflow, you clutched onto Jaehyun's arm shakily. You knew it was painful, but you weren't ready for this excruciating pain.

Months have passed and he couldn't move on. The moment you clutched onto his arm that day, he felt a piece of him shatter. They immediately drove you to the hospital that day but you didn't make it halfway through. You were in his arms, the pretty red rose that has fully bloomed mocked the dead complexion of it's owner. Wendy regretted not trying hard enough in convincing you to stay at the hospital but even so there wouldn't be any difference; you would still lose your life. Jaehyun still regrets not checking up on you during the days of your absence. He regrets spending more time with his now ex-girlfriend.

They broke up because as the relationship lasted, it just didn't work. He thought that she was the one but that didn't seem to be the case so they mutually agreed to end it instead. For some reason, he didn't feel sad about it. Sure he may have teared up during the confrontation but at the same time, your passing devastated him more. He missed you more than the presence of his old lover. It may be because you're his best friend; the closest person he ever had in his life. But there was something more.

"Jaehyun?" A feminine voice called out to him and he knew that it was Wendy. "I found this in her room while i was helping her family clean. I think it's for you..." She spoke softly, handing a folded piece of paper that relatively looks dirty because of the red stains it had before she walked away. Slowly he unfolded it, smiling sadly at the sight of your distinct handwriting. It was your letter disguised as a song, your heart disguised in words. As soon as he finished reading, the tears in his eyes were uncontrollable. "It's my fault..." He whispered to himself.

When it was already too late it was when he realized that you were everything to him. When you were already dead because of unreciprocated love, that was when he started to return it and he regrets it.

He realized his answer was also you, just like how you wrote that he was always yours, when the world already took you away and he regrets it.

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