#i probably have Diseases that make it impossible 😞

[magpie-trove]

there are a lot of worthwhile things to do in the world there are a lot of things there are a lot of other things

[meaningofaeons]

I know you must be pretty busy right now considering that you probably have a lot of requests but do you mind writing hanahaki disease au with Gepard and Sampo (separately)? Mb Natasha too if you write for her but that's completely optional! I'm just a sucker for pining 😞 They know reader for a long time but for some reason never made a move (well maybe Sampo did but reader thought he was just being his usual flirty self) but then reader got closer to someone else and they misunderstood and got jealous and the whole hanahaki thing happened

Thank you!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ blooming regrets

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 1.6k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, hanahaki disease (character is diseased, not reader)/mentioned gore, angst just angst I'm sorry, a bit open-ended

hi anon! thanks for the req!! unfortunately I do not write for natasha but I'm happy to do the req for sampo and gepard (=^･ω･^=) I debated between ending this with angst or hurt/comfort but since you didn't specify I went for pure (but a Little open-ended?) angst hoohoo.. sorry it's kinda short ;w; ty again!!

⊹ Gepard Landau

His cough really wasn't a big deal.

He assured his fellow Silvermane Guards, his sister, even the newly-appointed Supreme Guardian Bronya Rand near-daily.

It was a cold. Just got something stuck in his throat. Ah, he just had a drink of water, and it went down the wrong pipe.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards cannot afford to be unwell, not for a second. If he had a fever, he'd push past it. If he got a headache, he'd keep his focus on the job at hand and ignore his pain. No matter what it was, it wouldn't put him down, and this cough, while persistent, was no exception.

The excuses worked at first, but not for long.

And they certainly didn't work on you.

"I might not know the Supreme Guardian, but surely she's going to listen if I beg for you to be given a break. Ever since the Astral Express crew left, the Fragmentum has receded more than before. Surely you can—"

"Y/N, I told you, it's just a minor cold. I'm fine. Just fine."

You raised a brow.

"This cough has only gotten worse since you first had it, Gepard! That's no simple cold. If you really want me to stop bothering you, at least go to the doctor and get yourself checked out."

In an attempt to appease you, the man had agreed, finding himself trudging to the one place he wanted to avoid.

If the doctor diagnosed him, then it became real that he had some sort of illness, and that would only be a hindrance. Not only to his duties, but to you...

Still, if going to be examined would make you happy... he'd do it.

The man would do anything for you.

And it seems that this was the problem all along.

"M-Mr. Landau..." the physician reentered the room after a short moment to look over his tests, anxiously fiddling with the paperwork. Well, that wasn't a good sign.

"It's okay, I can take it," Gepard answered confidently, folding his hands as he stifled another cough. "Any treatment is fine, as long as I can get back to work as soon as possible."

The physician's face crumbled, and the Captain felt his pulse run cold.

Was it... worse than he thought?

"I'm... I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'm afraid this is not something you may want treated."

What does that even mean?

"Of course I do! Just..." Gepard calmed himself, slumping onto the examination bed again. "Just let me know what it is."

"Sir... you have contracted an incredibly rare disease. With the onset of the Eternal Freeze and the extinction of many botanical-related illnesses and plants, many medical experts considered it impossible for this disease to return, and many wrote it off as gone for good. But..."

He turned a paper containing an x-ray of the Captain's chest.

A small root dug its way up inside his lung, and the blonde froze.

"It's called Hanahaki... and it originates from love. Unrequited love. And the only cure, I fear, is... to have your love for the one that afflicted this removed for good."

—

Against all odds, Gepard had taken the time off that he desperately needed.

Though Supreme Guardian Bronya was shocked at first by his submission to the advice of everyone around him, she could not bring herself to question the man when he coughed again—seeing that crimson red sprout up that he desperately tried to hide.

Knowledge that hanahaki was still in existence would bring panic to the masses. Gepard knew this. He kept himself hidden, out of sight. Not even to see you did he leave his home.

After all, even that simple action alone would hasten his disease.

He still had a duty. He told himself that over and over, slamming it into his mind. The surgery to remove the roots was all but essential.

Gazing out of the Landau home's window, seeing you walking down the street with a smile on his face... his heart panged, though.

He couldn't do it.

Loving you was painful, but the thought of losing that emotion towards you wrought even further pain upon him.

It was then that he saw a stranger at your side. Well, not quite—he'd seen them around with you before, talking to you, laughing with you, taking your hand as they led you around town.

Just as they did in that moment.

An uncomfortable feeling rose in Gepard's throat, and he began hacking into his hand once again, collapsing as he clutched the windowsill for stability.

A small, blood-soaked periwinkle fell right into his waiting hand.

Yet somehow, it felt as though his chest hurt for reasons far deeper than the flowers taking hold of his lungs with each passing moment.

⊹ Sampo Koski

Sampo wasn't one to instill concern in anyone.

Even for those who genuinely cared for him, though they were few and far between, it was always the same thought.

"It's Sampo. What could possibly happen to him?"

Of course, there's always the joking thought that one day, all his disgruntled customers and scammed victims will come back to wreak vengeance. But really, this happened every other week.

And Sampo was always fine.

So, when he sat in front of a very distraught Natasha, something felt terribly, horribly wrong.

"H-Heyyy, Nat! Come on, now, you can tell Sampo all the details of this little cough!" he chuckled, though it was punctuated by said hacking. "It can't be too bad, eh?"

Usually, his joking would elicit even just a small chuckle from the woman. But she nearly trembled when picking up her notes, rereading them over and over as though to confirm the information she already knew.

"Sampo..." she murmured. "Is there... someone you love?"

Though he could crack another jest, ask if Miss Natasha of all people was coming onto him, he saw the look in her eye, and swallowed another choke.

"Erm..."

Of course, in spite of his hesitation in speech, his mind had none at all.

Your face came to mind at once, bright, smiling, overjoyed. The way your brow would pull when he got into a scuffle and came to you all banged up, or the way you'd laugh at his latest scheme to trick some no-good vagrants into a 'package deal' scam.

Your energy, your voice, your touch. Everything flooded into his senses, and he smiled despite himself, despite the situation.

"Well..."

"If you're thinking of lying, save it," Natasha managed a strained laugh. "I think we both know from that silly grin that you have someone in mind. And I know... I think I know exactly who it is."

"But what've they got to do with my 'lil cold? Don't tell me... My only cure is to have my beloved Y/N nurse me back to health?!" Sampo clasped his hands together, making goo-goo eyes at Natasha.

He had assumed the mood to be lightened, but her eyes only darkened again.

"Sampo... this disease... it's—"

Her prognosis was punctuated by another cough from the conman—this time wet, uncomfortable, as blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. He was about to continue her sentence for her to throw in a joke, to reassure him that he was used to such minor amounts of blood, when something rose up his throat and into his mouth, cutting off his words.

Loosening his jaw, a purple and pink hyacinth landed right in his palm. Natasha was so pale, she might as well have been a ghost.

"What's..."

For once in his life, even the Sampo Koski was stumped.

"Hanahaki..." Natasha whispered, covering her mouth.

"What?!" Sampo's head snapped up, flicking between the doctor and the flower. "That's... That's a myth that kids get told so they confess their feelings quicker, so they don't chicken out. C-Come on, Miss Nat, that's not—"

She shook her head, and Sampo paused, staring at the flower.

"I've gotta clear my head."

"Sampo!"

The conman was to his feet in an instant, speed-walking out of the clinic faster than he ever thought his legs could take him. He didn't really know where he needed to go, but he knew he had to see you.

Seeing your face would put that warm, fuzzy, butterfly-like feeling right back in his chest. It would replace all this pain crawling into his lungs, his throat, not worsen it.

But when he saw you approach with your friend in tow, it felt like his chest had been stabbed straight through.

"Sampo! I heard you saw Nat today. You okay?"

"Y-Yeah!" Sampo was quick on the uptake, hiding the flower and swiping a hand over his mouth swiftly in case of any leftover blood. "You know me, just'a coupl'a bangs and scrapes from the latest 'customer'. You know how it is for ol' Sampo!"

You chuckled lightly.

"Well, that's good. Just don't go scamming any good people now, huh?" Your friend tugged your arm, giving Sampo an apologetic smile—something that dug up an even more foreign emotion within him. "Ah, right. I'm sorry, Sampo, we have plans today. But let's spend some time at the Great Mine some other time, huh?"

"No problemo! Sampo never skimps out on plans, and he never leaves a friend hanging! I'll see you then, Y/N."

You left with one last laugh and a smile.

Sampo's own smile slowly fell the moment you vanished from view... and he stared at the pink-and-purple hyacinth in his hand.

He recalled what they meant when Natasha had told him once, explaining all the intricacies of flower language if he were to ever give a 'special someone' a bouquet one day...

Joy, fresh starts, new love... But the purple?

That could only mean regret.

The conman threw the flower to the ground and stalked away, but not before trampling the bud.

As if he could ever regret something like loving you.