Not permanently, [he amends his statement, the corner of his lip curving up in the ghost of a smile. He simply can't fathom this place letting him rest, after all the inane horrors its visited upon him.] We couldn't be so lucky.

[He doesn't often talk about the blank hellscape he was trapped in while Loki possessed his body; it's difficult to put into words, even now. He hadn't expected to experience anything after death, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to wake up again after it all was over. If he's being honest, though, he'd prefer the pain of hacking up these godforsaken flowers to the unstimulating blank nothingness.]

It's popular in fiction targeted toward young women, [he continues, dropping to one knee beside Damien to address him as an equal, rather than speaking down to him. His voice aches, hoarse and scratchy from the thorns he'd been swallowing.] It was... beneficial, to know the basics of common tropes, especially whilst dealing with the collective human unconscious. Not to mention the general public.

In essence, it has to do with the growth of flowers from... unresolved or unrequited feelings. A rather morbid trope, no? I believe it's common for most afflicted to be killed in a bittersweet gesture in these kinds of stories.