𝐝𝐥𝐦𝐥𝐮 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝) . .
. . you have hanahaki, a severe case of shyness, and a crush on scaramouche, and scaramouche is an absolute jerk.
// tws ; blood ; gn reader ; hanahaki & modern au ; slight cursing
a/n: first time posting here yippee (pls be nice)
you sobbed, heaving up stupid yellow carnations while sitting on the cold, hard floor of the school bathroom.
you wretched up the damned flowers. they fell ungracefully into the toilet which sat in front of you.
your knees hurt from sitting on them for so long.
if only you could tell him how you felt. it would finally all be over, one way or another. maybe with your feelings being requited.
or maybe with you choking to death, the only thing with you while you die being the stupid fucking flowers.
you coughed again, pale yellow petals fluttering to the ground elegantly.
it was a stark contrast to how, just moments after that, you were coughing your lungs out, flowers flopping down into the toilet in large clumps; stuck together by mucus and blood.
you wheezed and wheezed and wheezed until it felt like there was nothing left in your lungs and your throat was burning and your knees were bruised.
you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until there were no more tears left.
you coughed and coughed and coughed to the point you thought maybe just dying would be better than this fucking hell.
you curled into a ball, crying. crystalline tears ran down your cheeks, falling onto your clothes, the ground, anything.
if only you could fucking talk. why were you like this? why were you fine with your friends, but so terrified to talk to anyone? to everyone?
to him?
maybe, just maybe, if you were different you wouldn’t be in this situation.
if only you weren’t so pathetic, so stupid, so scared.
you hated yourself. you hated yourself so, so much. who the fuck was this terrified to talk to people, but opened up so easily once others talked to them?
maybe you should just confess and get it all over with.
—
you opted to just give him a letter anonymously.
who knew if he would even read it? he received dozens of confessions everyday.
even if he did read it, it couldn’t be that bad, right?
—
if you could, you would eat up your words.
it was much, much worse than you thought.
he had ripped open the envelope, immediately reading the letter with a scowl.
he wasn’t even halfway through when he burst out laughing.
”what the fuck is this?” he snickered, holding onto his locker so he wouldn’t fall from how hard he was laughing.
”what pathetic fucking weirdo confesses from an anonymous letter? are they too terrified to say it to my fuckin’ face?”
he continued reading the letter.
when he was done, he crumpled it up and threw it away behind him, still laughing.
”that’s so goddamn stupid.”
unfortunately, the crumpled up letter hit you on your head.
not embarrassing, right?
well, it wasn’t until scaramouche saw it had hit you.
”oh, sorry,” he exclaimed in a voice dripping with mock sweetness.
”didn’t see you there.”
it would’ve been fine until his next comment, which you unfortunately overheard.
”these dumb fucking bitches. they’re so stupid, can’t even move out of the way. what are they, blind?” he muttered under his breath, tone condescending.
you burst into tears right then and there, unable to stop the overflow of emotions.
you walked away as quick as you could, wanting to kill yourself right there.
”so emotional, and over what?”
his laugh rang down the hallway, following and taunting you.
—
you don’t know what had come over you that day. before that you had always tried to keep your emotions in check, always tried to stop the tears from coming out in front of people you didn't know.
maybe hearing your crush degrade and insult you had just struck a chord or something.
—
weak coughs wracked your frail body, using up the little energy you had left.
you were on your death bed (quite literally! you were laying on your bed while dying).
honey yellow flowers surrounded you, their sickly sweet scent making you feel nauseous.
you choked up another batch of the flaxen flowers, watching them flop forward onto your bed sheets, staining them a dull crimson because of the blood on them.
with half lidded eyes, you stared at the carnations. your mind was hazy, and your vision blurred.
if you recalled correctly, they symbolized disdain and rejection.
how fitting.
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Hanahaki AU lets gooooo
ok i had this idea and i’ve come to share it here since my irl friends are tired of hearing about this lmao
For starters, Luigi had already contracted the disease twice before, the first time from Daisy and the second time from Peasley, both times he decided to remove the flowers through surgery and consequently eliminate his feelings for both of them. He eventually fell in love with Bowser and contracted hanahaki for the third time, but this time surgery could completely eliminate his ability to feel love again thanks to previous surgeries making this risk even greater. Luigi couldn't hide this from Mario, as he was his biggest support during his previous experiences with the disease.
Mario tries to find a solution other than surgery since Luigi told him that he didn't want to give up his chance to love again, that's when he realized the main factor of everything, Bowser, had something that could be of help.
Bowser has been in love with the princess for years and for some reason he was still alive despite being rejected several times, the reason for this is that Kamek used his magic to minimize the damage caused by the flowers, making them less painful and easy to deal. Mario finds out about this and comes to an agreement with Kamek to fix both problems, Kamek agrees since he thinks that bowser's case is a lost one and he prefers that his adopted son royalty achieves happiness with another person than do loves him, now they work together to find a way of make them be in a relationship before the disease consumes Luigi and kills him. The ending of this? idk i just made it up some days ago, but i think the idea it's pretty cool ain't? mayyybeee i’ll draw more if something else comes to mind
btw, i wanted to make the roses that Luigi grows for Bowser to be red, but i couldn’t find a good way to make them look good with blood, so i made them white so the blood could make them look red, no, i’m not fine
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HI IM BACK 💋anon. Ive come to sing your praises yet again youre so good at writing it just itches the right brain nooks. all the kisses for you once again.
So i wont lie, ive been continuing to think about the cannibalism stuff so uhhhhhh. After he gets revived, right, he's, fairly normal maybe apologetic to the eggs but normal. but Fit and Pac. Absolutely heartbroken all like, 'you were the one to leave us'. And tubbo not rlly knowing how to Fix this just 'how can i prove it to you' and uh Yeah :]
Hope youre having a good day :>
i'm having a great day! thank you <3 and gosh every compliment you give is inflating my sense of self worth. kissing you on the mouth very gently
“You left us,” Pac said in a broken voice.
Tubbo shuddered as tears streamed down his face. “I didn't try Pac. Don't you know that?”
Pac's head shook. “Do you know how hard it's been?”
Tubbo shook his head slowly. “I've been dead.” He sighed deeply. “What can I do?”
Pac just stared at him with wet eyes.
A memory pushed itself to the front of Tubbo's mind. How Pac's flesh tasted in his mouth. He took Pac's hand and pressed his dagger into it.
Pac stared at him a long moment as Tubbo started to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt to bare his chest. He knew what mattered to Pac. He wanted to give it to him.
“Take me,” he said in a strained voice.
Pac's eyes had lightened up as Fit simply glanced between the two of them.
“Go grab health potions,” Pac said, directed at Fit but his eyes were trained on Tubbo.
The metal was cold against his skin. Pac pressed it hard against his collarbone as Fit rushed back over with health potions.
As soon as he was close enough to intervene if needed, Pac sunk the knife into Tubbo's chest. It felt like a rush of cold water to every nerve in his body. He let himself sink forward, closer to Pac as the man's head dipped to lick up the blood spurting out. As Tubbo's head fell back, he knew it was going to be okay.
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