Welcome to the story!! Some context: Stanley and the Narrator both remember the endings! Stanley is the one who catches Hanahaki, and the flower species mentioned is yellow Chrysanthemums, symbolizing unrequited love/a love filled with sorrows. Their name can also be translated to something along the lines of "golden flowers."
I like the idea of Stanley being able to communicate through specifically directed thoughts instead of talking, which will be in bold+italics, so I'm going to use that!!
Feel free to leave comments, though this is purely for fun and I care more about writing angst than 100% cannon accurate characterization, though I will try my best.
I truly hope you enjoy reading!
-Strawbs™
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••When Stanley was first thrown into this parable he was scared, terrified even.
This was understandable, because most people would be at least a bit frightened if everyone around them disappeared. Especially if a disembodied voice- (Who was British for some reason?) -had shown up instead.Stanley had gotten over the initial shock of the situation rather fast after the first few resets. He had tried being mad instead, defying The Narrator's wishes and trying to completely ruin the story. Unfortunately for Stanley, this didn't do much of anything either.
Eventually he gave up somewhere around the hundredth reset, choosing to accept that he was simply stuck in the office.
He decided to let his mind wander instead, figuring that it would help distract him from the parable's never ending resets.It worked at first, and Stanley would think of things he knew or remembered. He used to draw, and write poetry sometimes. He knew a lot about flowers too, and had quite a bit of knowledge about flower language. He found it interesting how people could say so much with a simple bouquet.
Since Stanley couldn't speak himself, he thought the prospect of speaking through flowers to be intriguing, and a bit charming even.After a while Stanley ran out of things to think about. He couldn't remember any of his drawings or poems and he had gone over all the flowers he could think of over and over in his head.
Stanley was getting bored.He had tried drawing again too, and writing poems; but they all led back to the parable, to him, to The Narrator. He couldn't think of anything else; drawing that stupid line™, the fern, the bucket, what he thought The Narrator looked like.. if he even had a physical body. Stanley doubted it, he was probably just a voice.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the now familiar voice of that very same Narrator.
"Stanley stood for a long time in one spot. It's part of a game. He likes to see how long he can go without dying. So far he's doing excellent, and if he just stays right where he is, I'm sure he'll keep up that good momentum. Let's observe the genius at work."
His voice was tinged with annoyance, as if he was trying to hurry Stanley to the next room.Stanley rolls his eyes, finally leaving his office. He strays from his usual path when faced with an odd door that wasn't there in the past restets. There was a large sign on it that read "NEW CONTENT" in bold neon lettering.
Stanley was intrigued, walking up to the open doorway and taking a look around the inside. It was completely dark.
The Narrator on the other hand seemed thrilled.
"Ohh! New content? Oh, well, this sounds delightful!"
There was a faint noise, as if someone had clasped their hands together. Stanley briefly wondered how that noise was made, since The Narrator was just a voice. Was it really possible that he had a physical body? The idea of a physical Narrator intrigued Stanley. He decided not to dwell on it for too long, stepping into the room ahead.
YOU ARE READING
Golden Flowers (Stanarrator)
FanfictionContent warning for Spoilers (maybe??), death, unrequited love, suicide/suicide mention, and graphic violence!! We all love some good old Stannarrator and some of us (me 😒‼️) absolutely ADORE Hanahaki Disease so why not write something about both...