#corpse fluff
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral, They/Them Pronouns Used)
Warnings: Hanahaki Disease (Coughing/Throwing up flowers/flower petals), Melancholy of unrequited love, Mentions/References/Jokes about Death and Dying in the future, Swearing
Genre: Angst, Angsty Romance, Choose-you-own-ending, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Corpse is a victim of Hanahaki Disease as a result of his crush on a mystery somebody. Will we ever find out who they are? Will they find out about this curious predicament?
Requested by @sensaysstuff Hi dear! Thank you so much for the wonderful request! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it is. It was my first time dabbling in this trope too so I apologize if I got anything incorrectly. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤
It’s been a whole week, a whole week of my own lungs being my arch nemeses. I’m no stranger to being the victim of my body’s flaws and my organs’ short-comings, but man, this is next level brutal. It’s got a sort of punch-to-the gut humorous irony to it because, although it fucking sucks, it’s also the prettiest disease I’ve had to deal with. Hell, I’ve even started collecting the flowers, they look really pretty when you don’t know the context behind their presence on my dining table.
It first happened the night after a stream when I felt surprisingly tired, enough so to doze off to sleep. I did so with a smile even because the stream was so great and I had so much fun talking to my friends and playing with them as we usually do. Except, this time around we had involved alcohol in the fun so you can imagine the antics we were up to.
That being said, when I woke up barely an hour after having gone into lights-out mode with an overwhelming urge to throw up, I wasted no time chucking it up to the consumption of the three beers as I ran to the bathroom. And it’s not so unusual to have certain things that I’m usually tolerant of not land correctly a specific one time just to mess with me. Alcohol is up on that list but no matter how it lands, it’s never before made me chuck a flower out of my mouth.
Yes, a whole ass fucking flower.
Imagine how long I sat there looking at the toilet bowl which now had a flower floating in there like it was nobody’s business. I pinched and pinched at my arms to try and wake myself from whatever kind of fever dream this could’ve been but it was no use. I was as awake as I could be and had been turned into a flower producing machine.
Of course, the first thing I did once my legs unjelly-ed was google this puzzling phenomenon, hoping for something but not sure what. I don’t know what would’ve been a comforting diagnosis for a literal flower clawing its way out of my throat but whatever. At the very least, I found a diagnosis - Hanahaki Disease: an ailment that targets victims of unrequited love, causing them to cough or puke flowers till the object of their affection returns the same feelings. If that doesn’t happen on time, however, the victim is to be suffocated by an overflow of flowers in their lungs.
The thought I remember swimming through my head after rereading the damn explanation for the fiftieth fucking time is simple and straight to the point:
I’m gonna fucking die at the hands of fucking flowers….FLOWERS DON’T EVEN HAVE HANDS
What did I do next, you might be wondering. Don’t, because it’s pathetic. I sent the weirdest text a person could receive to the Amigops group chat.
Me: GUYS I HAVE HANAHAKI DISEASE I’M GONNA DIE
And just my luck, Toast was the only one up at that hour. He did have a logical reaction but still…
T: The fuck did you mix in that beer, man?
I left him on read.
* * * * *
Since then, I’ve gotten around to explaining it to my friends and even making it as far as getting them to believe it - even if some (read: Toast) still tease me about it. I’d say that’s headway and a half in comparison to how I thought things would go but the fact still remains - I’m a dead man walking.
“Corpse, why do you have to be so pessimistic?! How do you know the person doesn’t like you back?” Rae has tried comforting me time and time again.
“Cause I have this disease.“ It’s comical how simple the answer is.
“Ok…“ she clears her throat before correcting herself, “How do you know they won’t develop feelings for you in the future?“
“Cause they won’t. I just know, ok? Don’t ask me how.“ It’s gotten increasingly harder to be able to keep my bitterness at bay but I’m managing semi-nicely, thank you very much.
Oh and yeah, we’ve resorted to calling the object of my affection ‘this person’ because I’ve been more than adamant on keeping their identity a secret. There’s no way I’m handing Toast a gas can so he can pour it in the fire that is his teasing. He really doesn’t need any more material, I believe he’s got plenty to work with when you take into consideration my misery and agony.
“Look on the bright side: that bouquet is the most colorful thing in your entire apartment. You may die but the flowers breathe life into the living space. Isn’t that poetic?“ There he goes, without missing a beat. I know he’s not trying to be mean - if anything he attempts to knock as many laughs out of me as possible - so an eyeroll is the farthest he’s gotten on my anger meter.
“I’d say cruel. Or tragic.“ Sykkuno adds. He’s been very timid about the topic, frightened by the end I’ve foreseen and embraced by now.
“Life is one great big tragedy.“ Toast replies with a heavy accent that is inaccurate to whatever part of the world he was trying to accentuate.
“Jeez, what’s with all this melancholy?“
The voice comes from none of the four of us and a quick check of the participants list confirms that there’s a fifth party now present in the call. One I’d like for us to tiptoe around when it comes to the subject - Y/N.
“Toast just finally decided to catch up on some high school reading. He’s currently hung up on Shakespeare.“ Rae jumps in to mend the situation even though she doesn’t know my intention on keeping this a secret from Y/N. For all she knows they’re already aware of my ailment but bless her heart regardless.
The save actually catches me so off-guard with its creativity and humor that it sends me in a fit of laughter. One that transpires into a coughing fit, producing another flower.
“Oh God, Corpse, are you ok? That sounded rough?“ Y/N asks, concern evident in their voice.
I shake my head before I remember they can’t see me and hurry to answer verbally, “Yeah, no worries. I’m no stranger to a little coughing fit.“
“That was anything but little. Might wanna go to the hospital, buddy.“ They reply, causing me to cringe inwardly at both the thought of going to the hospital for this ridiculous and downright degrading disease and also the nickname they casually added at the end.
“Hey, what flower was it this time, Corpse?“ Toast teases, causing me to grit my teeth and bringing himself up on the annoyance scale.
“I told you they don’t change.“ I all but groan, burying my face in my hands.
“Ah, so you’re stuck coughing up orchids till doomsday come.“ He assesses casually as though he isn’t referring to my literal doomsday but ok.
“Wait, do you even like orchids?“ Sykkuno asks, a small but meaningful attempt at lightening up the situation.
“This kind, yeah. They’re a nice shade of blue, they’re pretty.“ I reply with a shrug, looking at the flower now prepped up on my desk as though it’s a suspect in some criminal case I’m trying to crack - my own murder, that is.
“Wait, wait, wait. Back up, all of you.“ Y/N, rightfully confused, interjects, “Corpse, you’re coughing up flowers?! The fuck kind of idiot do you guys take me as?“
Before I can jump to our defense, Rae beelines right to the point, “Look up Hanahaki disease, we’re really not making fun of you or anything. If anything we’re trying to figure out how to save Corpse’s life.“
Y/N’s end stays quiet for a bit, the silence only interrupted by the clicking of the keys of their keyboard until they finally speak, “Oh shit, this really is real….” For a moment their voice fades again as they mumble the words they read to themself, “It says here that he could get surgery and have it removed.”
“Yeah, this mule of a man simply cannot let go of whoever this person is, even to save his own life.“ Rae complains in her typical motherly way. Bless her heart once more, I know I’m frustrating the hell out of her by being so determined to avoid the surgical solution but I simply can’t let go of this feeling. Sure, it’s torture and inevitable demise but it’s made me more human in this life than anything ever has. It’s the first and only time I’ve felt so strongly for another person that it almost seems right for it to have this kind of consequences just as a small fucked-up reminder that I’m not allowed to love or be loved romantically. Well, fuck that rule, I’ll love till doomsday come, to phrase it in a Toast-y way.
“I love this person too much, ok?“ I reply defensively like I’ve done all the previous times they’ve confronted me on the topic.
“Who are they?“ Y/N doesn’t beat around the bush too much, “I’ll kick their ass into loving you.“
Goddamn that’s sad
Despite that thought, I manage to chuckle, “That I cannot tell you.”
“Ok, fine. Allow me to use my detective skills then.“ They clear their throat and snap their fingers before following that up with: “What kind of flower are you coughing up?“
“Dendrobium Orchids.“ I reply with a playful eyeroll, throwing my hands behind my head to get comfortable in my chair, knowing full well this investigation isn’t going anywhere. The flowers have no meaning, I specifically read that. They can come in all kinds, shapes, sizes and colors. “Blue, if that helps.“
“Whose favorite flower is that?“ Rae ponders semi-aloud.
“It doesn’t have a correlation with the object of my affection. Don’t look into a dead end.“ I sigh, suddenly feeling heavy-chested.
“It doesn’t matter if the flowers are randomized. Yours is repetitive and of a specific kind and color.“ She corrects me, clearly having done her own research on the disease.
“So we really need to find this orchid lover and get them to love you.“ Toast sums up like he’s come to the solution of a problem after hours or days of looking for it.
“Yes! It directly points to the person who your heart longs for!“ Rae, finally having someone in her corner, is obviously excited whereas I’m terrified.
What if they’re right?
Suddenly Y/N, who’s been eerily quiet for the past three minutes, speaks up, “Blue dendrobium orchids are my favorite flowers…“
Fuck, they’re right.
The silence that overcomes the call is deafening to the point that it forces me to remove my headset just to escape it but it follows me into the quiet of my recording room too.
So, to escape it properly I choose to teleport myself back to a time when this was all so much simpler. For example, that stream. The stream that occurred moments before this disaster took over my life.
And I specifically remember the moment I provoked it. The moment when I was still struggling to pull myself together after a joke Y/N had cracked. The moment the forbidden thought passed through my head:
God, I’m so fucking in love with them
I did this to myself, I know that by now. I just had to go and fall for someone I can’t have. Someone already taken. Someone who wouldn’t see me as anything more than a friend even if they weren’t already in a relationship.
At least I’ll die knowing that a small part of them remains in me - quite literally, their favorite flowers will continue growing in my lungs. I’ll make sure to use that last breath to say their name.
A/N: Choose your own ending, lovelies! Feel free to submit anything you come up with to me, I’d be delighted to read your follow-ups to this fic <3
@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams@solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap@supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade@alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261@darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck@jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06@simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97@mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff@vtte@val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter@sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo @beatrhizn @blueberrystigma @beatrhizn @chicken-taco-burrito @scorpio-echo @nyctophiliiiiaaa @squirreljoe @azra-x @ace-of-spaids2 @kxllanxtdoor @ateliefloresdaprimavera @allens-underground-lair
Corpse Husband x Original Female Character
Warnings: Language
A Collaboration between Vy & Ashens
“i can see the sunrise in your eyes“
It must have been around 2 or 3 AM when they had finally fallen asleep. Corpse, much to his own surprise, didn’t find himself repeatedly checking the time on his phone like he usually does. Instead, he spent every moment talking with Cora in hushed whispers, little giggles passing between them and exchanging soft ghosts of a kiss every once in a while. He wasn’t sure who fell asleep first - they both felt their eyes go heavy and their mumbles faded into silence, the exact moment blurring in his mind. He, however, was the one to wake up first, his usual sleeping pattern taking form as per usual, not allowing him long slumber if any at all. When his eyes fluttered open, he felt a weight on his chest and was briefly concerned he had woken up into a bad day of anxiety. Instead, he found himself cradling a smaller figure to his chest, arm looped around her lower back as she slept peacefully. His delicate touch combed her hair out of her face, not wanting to wake her up before she was ready to face the day on her own accord. It was one thing to see the peace in her face while she slept on his lap. But here? With her cradled in the crook of his arm, asleep on his chest?
He could have sworn his heart ached with joy.
This can’t be real.
But it is, even if it wasn’t, he would be prepared to accept this reality as his real one. Because here, in this new reality they’ve created together, he feels something he hasn’t felt in a long time. He feels happy. Truly and utterly happy.
He brushes his thumb across her cheek, eyes half lidded as he watches her content smile become more prominent with each passing second. As gentle and calm as he tried to be, it isn’t long before Cora’s voice startles him from his trance, still not quite yet aware of his affectionate gaze.
“You’re staring…” She murmurs so faintly he almost misses it.
“Sorry…” He replies with a mumble, drawing his hand away as a blush creeps to his cheeks. Before it could get far, she reaches out and takes hold of it, tucking it back in its previous spot as she snuggles closer into his chest.
“Mm…time is it?” She whispers, smiling softly as she rubs her nose against his knuckles.
He sighs softly, looking up to the ceiling. It takes him a moment but he soon realizes they;ve found themselves in a deja vu similar position.
“…I can’t tell, you’ve taken me hostage again.” He whispers into her hair, smirking against the bird’s nest it had turned into as she slept.
She shifts a little, winding her ankle around his. “Guess it doesn’t matter then. Time is just a social construct anyway, right?” She replies, sighing happily, evidently ready to doze off once more.
Corpse, whether he likes it or not, comes to terms with the fact that he isn’t going to be moving anytime soon yet again and lets his own eyes flutter closed, keeping Cora closely cuddled up against his side. She’s warm, the blanket draped over them leaving him in a cocoon of comfortable coziness.
“Guess not…” He whispers, kissing the top of her head before sinking back into sleep along with her.
A couple hours pass. In that time Corpse has gone from having Cora tucked up against his chest to having her tightly wrapped up in his arms, face pressed into his shoulder. She has looped one arm over his waist and the other under his neck, legs tangled together as he murmurs into her hair.
He has to admit, as he feels the grogginess of having just woken up start to leave him, this is one of the best nights of sleep he’s gotten in a long while. Maybe it’s because of the warm body next to him, or maybe it’s because he finally feels safe enough with someone beside him. He doesn’t think that he could really explain it to anyone, but having another person there was more than he needed.
Black curls shuffle against the pillows as he tucks her in closer which initially would seem impossible considering their bodies are already flush against one another. Cora shifts and stretches in his hold before squeaking. It was one of those good stretches, the ones that made your body shiver with delight. She rolls away from him, briefly leaving him with a twinge of emptiness in his chest but it’s quickly extinguished when she rubs her face and reaches out to pat his chest.
“You slept well, Hades?” She sounds groggy, the slumber as hard as a rock having rasped her voice a tiny bit. She tilts her head to look at him, eyes lidded with a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. It’s a beautiful sight he finds himself so entranced by, that his own lips quirk a little before he leans forward to touch his forehead to hers for a moment. That’s good enough for him, the feeling it provokes in his chest much alike the one that blossoms when their lips touch.
She runs her hand through his dark curls and forces herself to sit up, his shirt hanging off one of her shoulders as she blinks sleepily. Corpse is in no rush himself, choosing to lay there and continue observing her, taking in the elements that compile her beauty: hair messily tousled following the long night’s slumber; how his shirt looks on her, like it always belonged there to begin with, like he’d done it injustice by wearing it himself. He could keep going but when she looks over her shoulder and catches him staring he looks away, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
She grins and ruffles her hair to help undo the knots that have formed before scrunching her face at him. “You gonna lie in bed all day? Or are we going to get breakfast?”
He smiles and shifts so he too can sit up, legs hanging off the bed as his palms roughly rub his face. Once he’s sure he got the crud out of his eyes, he stretches his arms high above his head and arches his back before sighing. “It’s too early for you to be this awake.” He grumbles, rolling his shoulder to reawaken it after having been used as a pillow for so long.
She snorts and looks at her phone before lifting her brow and showing the screen to him, “Dude, it’s almost 11 AM.”
“Yeah. Too early.” He grins, his smile softening and he moves to stand up, wincing a little at the sudden discomfort in his neck and shoulders. Must’ve slept funny, he thinks to himself, fucking nerves. Subtly rubbing his joints so Cora doesn’t notice, he glances down at his carpet and nudged the pair of socks he’d been trying to force on her feet out of his way. “What do you think about grabbing brunch since it’s too late for breakfast now?”
“Brunch, huh? Are we fancy now, or what?” She teases, grabbing her clothes from where she’d tossed them on the floor. She wanders out of the room and makes her way to his bathroom and this time, she shuts the door.
While she’s inside, Corpse changes into his usual attire: black jeans and a simple black shirt, accessorizing with his go-to chains before stuffing a mask into his pocket and yanking on his favorite hoodie. Cora returns from the bathroom a moment later, her hair looking like it had been combed through with her fingers before getting pulled back up into a messy bun. Watching her carry his clothes with care made his heart flutter in a way he has never experienced before. She has folded them neatly and is now offering them back to him as though they were a holy item.
“Thanks for letting me borrow these. Maybe next time I come over I’ll bring my own pajamas.” She says with a beaming smile, one he returns without missing a beat.
Taking the clothes, he looks around as if he isn’t sure where to put them. A moment later, he decides the foot of his bed would be good enough at the moment.
His gaze travels down to the floor and he stutters a little as he says: “I-..um…I’m gonna….go piss.” He motions at the bathroom timidly as if he’s expecting her to be taken aback by the fact that he has bodily functions he needs to get taken care of..
Accordingly and casually, she shrugs and laughs before jokingly patting him on the head, pushing up on her tiptoes to do so, “Go for it Cujo, unless you plan on going into the back yard, then I’ll have to hook a leash on ya.”
His face flushes a deep red and he shuffles away and into the solace and privacy of his bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. She was just joking. She was just joking. Fuck me she was JOKING, he swears and scolds himself, a hand threaded deep into his mop of curls as he exhales deeply. Turning back to face the door, he locks it and begins his usual morning routine.
With that said and done, he steps back out in the hallway in a matter of fifteen minutes. Glancing to the right, he sees that Cora hadn’t gone back to his room. Moving further down the hall he catches a glimpse of her sprawled out on the couch with her legs over the armrest, tapping away on her phone while lazily kicking her feet.
When he emerges from the hall, entering her view point, she lets the phone drop to her chest and smiles. “Ready to get some grub?” She hooks her knees over the edge of the sofa like it was a set of monkey bars and reaches down to grab the edge with her fingertips and heaves herself up into a sitting position, looking up at him.
Damn that was some impressive core strength
Corpse hesitates, but before he could say or do anything, she reaches up and loops his chain around her fingers, pulling him down for a soft tender little kiss. His hands flex, gripping at nothing, hanging awkwardly at his side for a second before moving up as if he’s going to place them on her shoulders or cup her face but immediately drops them instead. What the FUCK am I supposed to do with my hands!? Before he could figure that out, she breaks away and hops up onto her feet, fingers still curled in his chain, the entanglement allowing her to pull him along behind her as she walks out of the room. “How does Waffle House sound?” She asks, sparing him a brief glance over the shoulder without letting her walking pace falter.
He follows like a lovesick puppy, lips still tingling from her kiss, creating a sensation he’s far too focused on to coherently reply so he finds himself nodding in response as he mutters a small, uncertain: “Y-yeah.”
Equipping his shoes, wallet and eyepatch, he throws on the hood of his hoodie and gives the curls that stick out from underneath it only a brief thought before he looks over at Cora who’s already pulled her shoes on. He catches himself as his gaze travels up the length of her legs, stopping at the short black shorts clinging to her upper thighs. She has omitted the fishnets she’d worn the night before, choosing to shove them in her hoodie pocket, but has left the suspenders to still hang around her thighs.
“Ready?” She asks with a bounce to her stance, smiling widely like an overly-excited child.
He nods, opening the door for her and following her out.
