dnf and some karlnap things might add to this might not:)

hanahaki disease (skephalo)

In a world where the air itself seemed to hum with an unspoken desire, where every movement was calculated and every word weighed heavy with meaning, there existed two beings who were bound together by fate, or perhaps something far more sinister. One, a boy with a heart of gold and a face that could make the stars weep, was named Skeppy. The other, a creature of such ethereal beauty that it made one's breath catch in their throat, was known only as Bad, and suffered from a disease so rare and terrifying that it had only ever been seen in the darkest corners of the human soul: hanahaki disease.

Their love for each other was as pure and unyielding as the light that shone through the cracks in their world, but Skeppy was oblivious to the feelings that Bad harbored for him. Day in and day out, Bad watched Skeppy from afar, his heart aching with longing, as the boy went about his daily routine, unaware of the depth of emotion that Bad was experiencing. It was a love that was both tragic and beautiful, a dance between two souls that seemed destined to remain forever out of reach.

As the weeks turned into months, and the months into years, the weight of Bad's unrequited love began to take its toll on him. The once-vibrant color that had defined his hanahaki disease now faded, replaced by a pale, washed-out hue that mirrored the state of his heart. The once-gentle coughs that had accompanied his love for Skeppy now turned harsh and violent, racking his frail body with pain. Yet still, Skeppy remained oblivious, his attention focused on other things, other people.

Desperate to make Skeppy understand, to make him feel even a fraction of the love that Bad felt for him, he devised a plan. One fateful night, as they found themselves alone together in a deserted garden, Bad gathered up his courage and, with a shaking hand, presented Skeppy with a single, perfect red rose. The rose was a symbol of his love, a final attempt to bridge the gap between them.

But alas, it was not to be. Skeppy, who had been preoccupied with his own feelings for another, barely registered the gesture. His heart was already spoken for, and so he politely accepted the rose and offered a fleeting smile before returning his attention to the object of his affections. As he watched Skeppy walk away, Bad's heart shattered into a million pieces, and the pale, washed-out color that had been replaced his hanahaki disease seemed to spread throughout his entire being.

The world around them continued to spin, oblivious to their plight, as they were forced to continue living out their lives on separate paths. Bad found solace in the company of others who shared his affliction, but it was never enough to fill the void that Skeppy had left behind. Meanwhile, Skeppy was blissfully unaware of the depth of emotion that Bad felt for him, content in the belief that his own feelings were reciprocated.

Time passed, and as it did, Bad's condition worsened. The once-vibrant color that had been the hallmark of his hanahaki disease faded further, replaced by a sickly gray hue that seemed to drain the life from his body. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his once-strong frame was reduced to little more than a shadow of its former self.

Skeppy, meanwhile, continued to live his life, oblivious to the pain that Bad was suffering. He remained focused on the object of his affections, unaware of the depth of emotion that Bad felt for him. It was a truth that Bad could not bear to confront, and so he remained silent, watching from afar as Skeppy's life unfolded before him.

Time passed, and one fateful day, as they found themselves alone together in the same garden where Bad had first offered Skeppy the rose, Bad's condition took a turn for the worse. The pressure of the flowers that had been slowly choking him for so long became too much to bear, and he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Skeppy, who had been lost in thought, was startled into action by the sound of Bad's desperate coughing.