CaerryxPotions

Like, in the standard version of Hanahaki, the point is that the disease is caused by unrequited love, and the afflicted end up coughing up increasingly large amounts of flowers, until either they suffocate or the other person returns their feelings.

A lot of versions do require a confession on top of that, but fundamentally the most important thing is the object of your affections developing specifically romantic feelings for you. Or you die.

As an aro person, I’m sure I don’t need to explain why this trope is uncomfortable for me, considering that it basically paints me as a potential death trap.

Plus some stories also feature ‘The Surgery’, which removes the roots of the flowers from the victim’s lungs, thus saving their life, but in the process makes them incapable of romantic love, which is treated as the highest tragedy.

Chronic Hanahaki on its own would still kind of have this problem, it’s just toning it down a bit— rather than being responsible for your death, your crush is instead just responsible for your continued pain/discomfort and frequent hospital visits. Better, but still kind of icky.

Chronic Hanahaki (that could still be potentially terminal in the long term, if you need extra drama) caused by not saying your feelings aloud, regardless of how the other person feels, on the other hand?

Beautiful. Great metaphor for the real effects that repressing your emotions can have on your body. Lots of dramatic potential.

Like, obviously there’s your bog-standard “I love you but don’t believe that you love me, so I will choose to suffer tragically alone rather than risk making you feel bad for not loving me back” thing that the Hanahaki genre was made for, but there’s room for more here as well.

Especially if you expand it to be about supressed emotions in general, rather than just romantic love.

For example:

The character who is in a relationship, but still has trouble verbalising their feelings sometimes, due to past trauma/mental illness, and thus still experiences recurring bouts of Hanahaki. Their partner who reassures them that it’s okay, that they know they love them, and that if they want to say it then that’s fine, but if they don’t feel they can right now then your flowers are beautiful babe, and that’s fine too.

The character who notices flower petals lying around their kid’s room, and doesn’t understand why their child won’t just tell them who they are in love with, so they can support them in confessing their feelings. Only to find out that their kid has actually been dating their same gender best friend for months now, and the Hanahaki was about coming out to their parent.

The autistic character with alexithymia, who by this point just treats coughing up the occasional flower petal as another, rather annoying autistic trait. “Fuck,” they say, coughing up a blood-stained rose and holding it up for their friends to see. “Anyone got any ideas what this one could be about?”

The polar opposite of the traditional Hanahaki thing. The ever happy, toxic positivity character who will die from the flowers choking their lungs unless they finally admit that they kind of hate you sometimes.

The character at the funeral of a family member they had an extremely dysfunctional relationship with, defiantly coughing their flower petals right onto the grave, and refusing to admit that they felt anything other than dislike or indifference for them deep down, because even now, when they’re dead and gone and it doesn’t matter, “you first, bitch.”

The character who witnessed or was told something that they aren’t supposed to know, and not only has to deal with the secret eating away at them, but also has to come up with more and more reasons for why their Hanahaki isn’t going away, even after they confess all their other secrets.

“You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

requested by: @ruby-serpent

Feel free to use and reblog!

#1 - having to work on the same project and being forced to work together cooperatively

#2 - being specialists on the same field and having great admiration for the other's work deep down (bonus points if they realise/admit it when they're very drunk or similar)

#3 - being academic rivals but only knowing the other's name not their face, they meet in a non-work-related setting like sports e.g. and get along quite well, until they find out who the other one really is...

#4 - Person A is mad at Person B for having the same success but 'not having any work ethos at all', B is not as hostile and tries to build up an amicable relationship

#5 - their interactions are only a competition of who knows more about the subject they're both geniuses in, they grow to look forward to these competitions more and more until they even have an unhostile 'normal' conversation

#6 - Person A seeks an academic rival as motivation to do better in their studies and Person B seems like an ideal candidate, B is quite irritated by the sudden competition, it takes quite a while to convince B that the rivalry is more of a compliment than anything else

#7 - getting along much better as soon as they don't share the same classes anymore

#8 - bonding over something they're both not good at after years of rivalry in their strongest subjects

#9 - being similarly irked and fascinated by the other's productivity and discipline

here you go! enjoy parts one & two

The rival pulled back, almost ignorant of their gasping lungs, as they took a moment to privately admire the student—lips swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes still closed like they'd never been kissed before. Curling a lock of hair around one finger, they crashed their lips back down again.

What had it been about them in particular? they wondered through the haze of sensation at the student's fingertips on their bare skin, almost electrifying. The question was a sham. They already knew the answer.

That brilliant fucking mind.

Everyone else in their year—boring as fuck. But the student's brain? An entire world just absolutely begging to be discovered and unravelled. The rival, through the world's messiest handwriting, had learned more about the subject of biology than the professor had taught them. Learned more about the student themselves than they'd ever fucking known through observing the student's reactions to them.

They broke apart, again, and this time the student's eyes were wide open. The rival studied them for a moment—a blazing shade of verdigris, the most alive they'd ever seen them. The student was always tired, but right now they looked like they could ace three exams and save the world.

"Still worried?"

"About getting to class on time, yeah," was the whispered response. The student hopped off the table, and in one smooth motion, swept all their work into an overstuffed leather satchel. The rival was at once horrified at the desecration of work and wanting the student's body back against theirs. The thin shirt they'd had on was no barrier for the heat of their body.

"What do you mean, getting to class on time—"

"If you want to stay top of the class," the student grinned mischievously, "you'd better start running. C'mon now," they whispered, the curve of their lips a smirk as they tiptoed up against the rival's ear, "I'll see you after class, won't I?"

And then they were gone, and class was starting in a minute, and the rival was still reeling from what the student had just said.

Goddamn.

Like they said.

The student huffed, putting the biology book back onto the bookshelf with a quiet sound of frustration, gripping the bookshelf and standing on tiptoe to put it back on the topmost shelf. They'd written their notes while reading one of these books, but no, their shitty sleep schedule had fucked them up once again and in their sleep-deprived haze had written the notes in the book instead of on the paper beside it. They'd searched through half the books in this section and it looked like they were going to spend two hours more looking through every other one.

Turning the corner, they stopped dead in their tracks: leaning against the bookshelf leisurely was their academic rival, eyes faintly amused, lips upturned ever so slightly in the most irritating goddamn smirk the student had ever seen. Sometimes, in a fit of madness, they wondered what it would be like to do anything other than be annoyed at them because they looked fucking soft and kissable—

Gods, they were sleep-deprived again.

"Looking for this?"

Their rival handed a book to them. The student took it with a noticeable distance between their fingers. Flipping through the pages, they recognized their handwriting in the margins.

The smirk grew.

"Usually one expects 'thank you' in return, perhaps even a 'thank you ever so much, you've made my life so much easier, however may I repay you—'"

"Thank you," the student ground out, tone snappish. Putting on a petulant face, their rival snatched the book back and held it high, above the student's reach.

"Give that back!"

"If you say thank you nicely," the rival teased, holding the book up higher while the student jumped in vain.

"I'll thank you when I have it back!"

"Now, now, that's no way to respond," the rival murmured, backing them into the bookshelf. The student suddenly felt very small as their book hit the top of the bookshelf, no doubt sending dust flying, and their back hit the rows of spines shoved tightly together.

"You're a bastard," the student said, head slightly tilted as they glared furiously at the rival. The rival only dropped their head and lowered their voice, ghosting their lips above the students' and oh shit oh fuck they were close enough to kiss why were they doing this why were they thinking about that—

"Am I still a bastard now?"

"Very much so," the student managed, but it came out weak instead of the defiant manner that they wished it had been.

"Judging by your reaction, I don't think so." The sound of footsteps the next row over caused the rival to back away, and, with that perpetually infuriating smirk, let the student know that they would see them in biology.

Their book was still on top of the shelf.

—

💚 for academic rivals to lovers

Thank you! <3 <3 <3

Okay, I'll name the characters Y and W and use they/them pronouns for both because it's gender neutral (feel free to replace them with any other names/pronouns in your head as you read). Enjoy!

Y

I can't believe this is happening. It feels like every hope I've ever had has been trampled and crushed to a pulp. Every bit of sun in the sky is shrouded by dark, dark clouds. Every cell in my body-

"Oy! Stop that!" V says, smacking me on the arm.

"Hey! What was that for?" I say, rubbing my arm, he (V) works out way too much.

"I know you're dramatising everything in your head. It's not that big a deal, W just got half a mark more than you," he says narrowing his eyes at me, already knowing how I'll react.

"It's not just half a mark. It's half a mark! And it's more! It doesn't matter by how much!" I'm indignant, V just doesn't get it. He isn't that focused on academics and he doesn't have an academic nemesis like I do!

He just sighs. I know he's annoyed, this is our daily, sometimes even hourly ritual.

"And you want to know what the worst part is?!"

"I don't, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

I ignore that and continue, "They got that extra half mark by arguing with the teacher, and when I tried to do the same, the teacher told me that she can't just give extra marks to everyone! How is that fair?!" I'm a little out of breath, and I know my eyes are wide and my cheeks are flushed.

"Okay, come on, I can barely deal with this on a full stomach, so I certainly can't with it on an empty one. Let's go for lunch," he says wrapping one hand around my wrist so we don't get lost in the crowd and tugging me to lunch.

***

We have physics next and they're in it. They who must not be named, oh screw that, it's W. We've been arch-nemeses from 1st grade. It all began when they finished a colouring activity before me, turned to me and stuck their tongue out at me. Oh, to lose would have been one thing but the humiliation of being made fun of for it, and to add insult to injury the teacher displayed their colouring sheet on the wall and not mine. Granted theirs was way neater, but it's the principle of the matter.

They take a seat right at the front as usual. And I take mine adjacent to them but far enough that they can't sabotage me. As the teacher drones on and writes derivations on the board, my mind drifts and lands on W, as usual. Soon my eyes have followed.

How can they just sit there with their perfect braids and soulful deep brown eyes- it's just infuriating! I memorise all their features as if there'll be a test on it soon (it'll probably be useful in some way). Brown skin, lightened acne marks, heart shaped scar near their forehead, sharp eyebrows, big nose, wide mouth for evil smiles (Y, their smiles are not evil, the V in my head says). Even this is unfair, they're just sit there paying attention to class and they look so- ugh!

I quickly switch my attention back to the teacher. For all I know this could be a scheme to distract me. The rational part of me says that this is how they look everyday, but the rest of me insists that they probably just look this striking to distract me.

I feel their eyes on me so I quickly turn to look at them. They stare deeply into my eyes (I'm drowning in them, this is definitely a distraction tactic). Then they offer me a smile, a small goading smile and look back at the teacher. I'd almost say they were blushing because their neck looks red, but I know they're not. They're just pleased that they distracted me even more. Gah, pay attention!

***

It's Chemistry class now and we're paired together, as always. I have to sit next to them to make sure they don't cheat or anything. So, of course, we get paired together (this job fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction).

They smile at me. "Hey." I know this sounds innocent to you, but this is their plan. They've been trying it on me all year long. They're trying to get me to trust them and then bam, they'll stab me in the back. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that.

"Hey," I respond, neutrally. It's better for me not to reveal that I've realised their scheme. It'll give me the upper hand eventually.

"Do you know what we're supposed to do in this experiment?" they ask. Ha! They thought they could stump me with that? Just by pretending to look confused and question whether I know the experiment? Well, I studied it thoroughly yesterday and I know not to fall for their tricks, so I explain it to them. They nod and smile again (when will they stop with this act? But I guess it's better that they don't know I know and keep doing it. Yeah it's better they continue all that smiling and twirling their hair).

We complete the experiment easily. See, this is another reason I have to be paired with them. If not, they might try to sabotage me. But now, they won't because it'll affect their own grade in the process.

***

I have a break period, so I go to the library and sit in one of my favourite nooks with a book. Suddenly there's a shadow above me.

"Hmm?" I look up.

"May I sit with you?" It's W. Their navy blazer and slacks look perfectly pressed and smooth.

"Okay." I guess this'll be good. I can figure out what they're studying from and if they do any extra reading.

We read in silence for a while. From time to time I check that they're not too ahead of me and I feel them checking out the same thing for me.

Then we both turn to look at the other at the same time. I freeze for a moment, caught in that deep brown gaze. Their lips look glossy (that's irrelevant). They lean forward and quickly smack a kiss onto my cheek.

I'm so dazed that they get the time to quickly gather their bag and run off.

Any variety of enemies to lovers / rivals to lovers is my bread and butter.

Academic Rivals to Lovers Prompts

Prompts

A starts falling behind on one of their classes and it stresses them out beyond belief. They turn to the only person smart enough to tutor them: B, who takes immense pleasure in having an academic hold over A.

A and B are paired together on a project and stay for hours after school to work on it. B isn’t pulling their weight and A gets mad at them to discover that B is sick, overworked, and physically too tired to work any harder. A takes it upon themself to take care of them— for the sake of the project of course.

A and B haven’t seen each other since school, where they parted ways in mutual hatred. They reunite as adults, both waiting to be interviewed for the same prestigious job.

(Alternate for 3) A starts a new prestigious job only to be trained by B.

A and B are competing against each other in a competition. As they get further in the competition / as their deadline approaches, A starts to work less and intentionally loses because B needs the win way more and, wow, B is gorgeous when they’re happy.

Oneliners

“Did you just admit that I’m smart? Wow, you really must be in love with me”

“I’ve always been compared to you. Why can’t you be as smart as A? A could do this easy peasy. Why can’t you just be A?”

“The only reason I study so hard is so you don’t think I’m stupid.” “I never thought you were stupid”

“No matter how much I work, it will never be enough— I will never be enough”

“Am I sensing a competition?”

Also see:

Enemies to lovers prompts masterlist

Harry beside him was a small comfort, the knowledge that he wasn’t alone, but he had survived worse, certainly, and could, no, would, survive this too. (He ignored the voice from the back of his mind saying that this was the worst he’d ever faced, and his knowledge of his internal organs was not great, so how was he to fix this?) His quiet contemplations, (a mini freak out, really) were interrupted by Harry glaring at him with the loudest expression he’d ever seen on her. He flinched when she turned her wand on to him (her very dangerous wand holy shit he knew she had magic in spades but what the hell Potter–) – and relaxed when she started a basic diagnostic charm on him. She handed him a potion with a clipped “drink it”, and he could feel her magic poking at his wound. He dutifully knocked back a Blood-Replenisher. It tasted different than usual.

“It’s the added feverfew,”

Oh. Maybe he was speaking out loud now.