I should be working on RR, but I’m instead working on a McHanzo hanahaki disease fic because I applied for the McHanzine and I feel like I need more McHanzo-centric works in order to be considered. Also, once I get an idea it doesn’t leave me alone so I have to get it out now or else.
That being said, here’s a small excerpt. I might change Hanzo’s flower lol
Shout out to @silverbearclaws (who really wanted me to do this) and @noirsongbird (who originated the McHanzo hanahaki disease fic and gave me the a-okay to write my own).
btw the story starts with a flashback to another character who had hanahaki, hence the change in tense. also i’m shit at proof reading so there are #mistakes
happened fast and Jesse never had time to really think about hanahaki and its
he has to.
approximately three minutes past midnight, but it’s been awhile since Jesse last
checked. He doesn’t know how long he’s been in Hana’s bathroom, kneeling before
the toilet, staring with horror-filled eyes at the bowl. Petals float in the
water, peaceful in spite of his ragged breathing. They are circular and a soft,
soft blue that reminds Jesse of a hazy morning sky. Dark blue streaks each one
and Jesse can’t help but to remember the gentle strokes of a watercolor
painting and the blue of Hanzo’s tattoo.
heart hammers inside his chest, loud and demanding. He bows his head, rests his
forehead on the cool porcelain, and closes his eyes. Maybe he can pretend it’s
not happening, Maybe if he ignore it and it’ll sort itself out in a week or to. But his denial doesn’t run so deep, not when the very thought of Hanzo has consumed his
mind for weeks on end.
loves Hanzo. He desperately, undeniably, painstakingly loves the archer.
Jesse’s had crushes before and even has had his heart broken by a misplaced
love here and there. But this? This burns inside his chest, smoldering like a
fire even when Hanzo is nowhere to be found. He thinks about the man endlessly,
letting every thought (sober or drunk) revolve around him. Jesse has never loved anyone with so much ardor before. Yet,
he never thought he would ever get hanahaki. Flower-spitting diseases happen to other people, not him.
part of him that clings to every brush of the shoulder, well-meaning taunt, and alcohol-filled
laugh truly believes that Hanzo likes him back. But another sees Hanzo’s stern
gaze and compares it to his own disheveled beard. He sees the bottles scattered around his
room and the gnarled design of his knuckles and can’t ever see how someone bound
to rigidity and perfection could ever look at him and feel the same way.
This song has impacted so many lives, mine included. It also inspired me to start writing again, and to stop judging myself so harshly. You’ve been a huge part of my life sense 2011 Hunter, and I couldn’t be any more thankful for having you around. God bless you for following your dreams, darling. We’re all here for you, and you’ve never been invisible to us.