BELLFLOWERS AND ANEMONES
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I've always adored flowers. Zinnias, marigolds and baby's breath were always my favorites. They reminded me of home. A safe haven.
The memory was warm and comforting, similar to sitting by the fireplace with hot chocolate during the winter time. But that fire has been long extinguished by the cold and chilly winds of what was to come. The flowers, I oh so adored, were now seen as an ugly reminder of my own sad and pathetic demise.
Story Cover Is Not Mine. Credit To The Owner
This Story Is Mine So Please No Plagiarism. Thank You And Please Enjoy :)
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This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamareCompleet
Fleur
Evan always tried to hide his flowers. It was pointless, almost everyone had them, but their flowers were bright yellows and pinks that made them look like walking flower bouquets. His were dark colors - blacks, reds, browns, and purples - that made him look morbid and intimidating. And his flowers stood for the worst things too. While Jared was covered in bright pink flowers that meant heartbreak, Evan had a huge, red, zinnia on the back of his neck that meant depression, dark purple irises on his arms, legs, and face that meant bruises, and black flowers lining his wrists meaning self harm. There were almost 47 black flowers. He hated it, being marked as the kid who was supposed to fall in love with a depressed psychopath. It didn't help that his anxiety would spike at the worst possible times, causing him to trip and stutter at the worst times. • Connor didn't choose to be born with depression, a feeling that started at the back of his neck and just seemed to grow. He didn't choose to be covered in burns and bruises from his abusive father, and he didn't choose to have a bright blue flower on the palm of his hand that symbolized anxiety. He wanted to end it all - the pain, the humiliation, the fucking flower that would grow at the worst possible times. He hated how everything that happened to him would affect his soulmate. Only he deserved to feel that pain.Compleet
Bouquets & Blood
I heard the shot and quickly turned around. Shock and horror were written all over my face, followed by fear. He looked at me apologetically. There was sadness in his eyes. He sank to his knees, a knowing smile on his perfect face. Tears started flowing down his cheeks. I rushed over to him, holding him in my arms. I was expecting blood to drip out of his mouth, soaking his shirt. But there were only sunflower petals gently floating to the ground. //B.A.P Gang! Hanahaki!AU; Trigger Warnings; Violence, Angst, Death, Throwing up The cover looks so stupid I'M SORRY // UPDATES EVERY SUNDAYCompleet
Dandelions ❀ Hamada Asahi ✓
Trigger Warning ⚠️ This story mentioning self harm, depression and suicide ----- Pain is a part of life. But not for Asahi, Pain is his life. Struggles, Hardships, mental breakdown, physically abused are the best words to describe his own life. " Why am I still alive? " Is his daily question everytime he opens his eyes in the morning. Everyday he was thinking of ending his life, running away from the pain he had endured all the time Surviving a difficult time is truly a choice. It is the most difficult times in his lives. He tries again and again. But it all leads to dead end Until music leads him to the door of happiness. A girl has saved his life. All the negative thoughts had turned into a positive thinking. Being mentally unstable, he communicate by giving her various type of flowers, telling her how does he feels by the meaning of it without actually reveals who he is. But, flowers has its own poison. " I will always be with you, Asahi " " Thank you for bringing hopes into my life. Thank you for being my happiness, and I love you so much " Dandelions - Hamada Asahi fanfic -Compleet
Bloody Bouquet : The King of Flowers
Hanahaki A disease that results in the coughing, vomiting and explesion of flower petals, flowers and blood from ones lungs. Only seen in people with a deep unrequited love. It kills in less than 3 months The only cure? Confess, and hope they feel the same. Or surgery, after which you'll never feel the same. But hey; it's not that common right? I do not own any of the characters just the story! 🚨Trigger warnings -Swearing (Bakugou? Are you surprised?) -Blood, vomit, crying, ect. -Implied suicide in the bad ending. No smut 🚨🚨I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS THEY BELONG TO THE CREATOR OF BNHA, I ALSO DID NOT INVENT THE FICTIONAL DISEASE HANAHAKI! Thank you for reading. Also this may be part of a series depending on feedback. I drew the cover! Started: September 2019 Finished: 4/20/2020Compleet
Unspoken Melodies and Wilted Flowers
Zhiyu never knew when his love for Wyen began-perhaps it had always been there, quietly blooming like a flower in the shade. It was soft, delicate, and filled with warmth, growing with every shared laugh, every late-night conversation, every moment where Wyen's presence made the world a little brighter. But love, as magical as it seemed, could also be cruel. Zhiyu realized this the moment Wyen excitedly introduced his girlfriend. Time seemed to stop. The words felt distant, muffled, as if he were underwater. His heart clenched so painfully that he wondered if it had shattered entirely. But he smiled. He smiled so naturally, so flawlessly, as if the ache in his chest didn't exist. "Congratulations," he said, his voice unwavering, though his whole world was collapsing around him. From a distance, Yangxie watched. His gaze was fixed on Zhiyu-not on his lips that curved into a perfect smile, but on his eyes. Eyes that held a storm, a sadness too deep to be hidden, even behind the most practiced mask. That night, Zhiyu curled into himself in the darkness of his room, the suffocating pain finally breaking free. Silent tears turned into quiet sobs, and then into gasping cries as he clutched his chest. His body trembled as he choked on something-something that wasn't just sorrow. Cough. Cough. Again and again, until his throat burned. And then- A petal. Soft, delicate, tinged with crimson. Zhiyu stared at it, his breath hitching. A gerbera petal. His favorite flower. Wyen's favorite flower. His hands shook as more petals followed, slipping past his lips like the love he could never confess. It hurt-it hurt so much. But no matter how much he bled, how many petals he coughed up, he knew one thing for certain: Wyen would never love him back.
I felt the winds you felt then (so does that count as your embrace) (Xiaoven)
Where the flower blooms, it wilts when not watered. And where love blooms, it takes you with it when not reciprocated. . . . It all started when Xiao received a call from an unknown number in the middle of the night, surrounded by the bloody petals that came from his very own heart. "You're dead, you're dead, but why can I hear you?" *** A Xiaoven angst fic. Completed on AO3. Updates here every week.Compleet
petals. -𝘕𝘑𝘔.
[*short story*] Hanahaki disease; The disease of unrequited love, flowers will bloom in your lungs and you will cough out petals. It will block out your air and cause death, unless you take surgery to get the flowers removed. But the memories of the admired person will be long lost. Re-writing in process. Also plesse excuse the really shitty spelling and grammar its just me being me as usual 🥲🥲Compleet
This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamare
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