Flower Breathing Novels & Stories

Blair waves her hand in a circular motion just beneath the magical display, sending them into swirling motion, causing them to act like a mini-hurricane that was trying to pick up its pace. With a sharp inhale, the petals begin to drop back into her hand while she picks up the ruined flower with the other. She holds to stem behind the petals, ushering everyone down before blowing out a sharp gust. The flower stands complete within the blink of an eye; its state reversed as the healthy petals flourish around its pistil. A dazzling smile dances across her face, a bronze glow ripening at her cheeks in turn while the crowd bursts into star-struck applause.

The intoxicating fragrance seems to be emanated from the garden of flowers "Shook! Quick! Close your eyes! Don't look at the flowers, Run!!!" Audrey was reminded about a specific mystical plant described in their Plant Mysticism book. The description in the book, fits perfectly on what they are experiencing right now, The DEVIL SMILE FLOWER! It was actually a scary existence. It doesn't look harmful, but behind its harmless appearance hides its terrifying ability. The Devil Smile Flower is always in its bud form all year round. It will only bloom once it senses the presence of breath. Upon blooming, it will release a sweet scent but the most crucial detail is that, whoever saw the flower b

The scent of flowers. Lavenders.

I replied. The air is crisp and invigorating, carrying with it the scent of dew-kissed meadows and the subtle fragrance of blossoming flowers. A gentle breeze whispers through the foliage, stirring the leaves in a delicate dance and carrying the promise of new beginnings on its whispering breath. In this tranquil setting, the harmonious symphony of nature's awakening greets you with a sense of wonder and awe, inviting you to embrace the beauty of the present moment and the limitless potential that a brand-new day holds.

She forced her voice to come low. “These are fibrous rooted flowers. During autumn, they try their best to conserve water by closing their root pores. So, immediately you remove them from the soil, their root pores close even more,” I said, raising the flower to Mother’s face. Then I began to give little scratches on the roots, “By scratching their roots and dipping them into water immediately, you help reopen the closed pores and make them aware that the new environment contains water.” I demonstrated the exact same thing I told Mum before putting the flower back into the soil.

The air is filled with the sweet fragrance of sunflowers, a delicate scent that mingles with the gentle breeze, creating an intoxicating symphony for the senses. The sunflowers stand tall and proud, their vibrant yellow petals reaching for the sky as if basking in the sunlight. Their mesmerizing beauty creates a picturesque landscape, casting a golden glow over the surrounding fields. Each sunflower, with its intricate details and unique personality, seems to exude a sense of joy and liveliness. The gentle rustling of leaves accompanies our footsteps, harmonizing with the soft hum of bees and other pollinators that are drawn to the nectar-rich blooms. The air feels alive, buzzing with the en

A white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small, shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her, as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes, it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her.

The letter didn't have a header and it didn't say from who it was either. It's the wind, can't you hear it? The sound is melodic, almost a whisper. Little by little, the voice turns brittle. Drop after drop, the tears don't cease to stop. The tune itself surrounds her, and like a spell her thoughts drown in the well. A soft murmur caresses her petals that are so thin, the light in her eyes slowly turning dim. The sigh of defeat makes the whistling howls of the wind freeze. Everything stops just as the rose falls.

I fight to keep my breath steady, but the heat pooling low in my abdomen betrays me. And then there’s her scent. That intoxicating floral aroma that changes with every breath, like a bouquet of wildflowers designed just to unravel me. It fills my lungs, drowning out any rational thought, taking root in my mind and making me hyperaware of every inch of her pressed against me.

he demanded. “I told you, I brought you some beautiful flowers.” Bryony shoved the flowers into his face. They smelled divine, or at least they would have if Eddie sniffed at them, but he didn’t. He was too angry. He merely inhaled to breathe, and the scent of the blossoms invaded his nose, uninvited. It was a Trojan Horse scenario, where oxygen was necessary and good, and riding upon it was the conniving perfume of greenery and flowers, and who was he to keep it out? He needed to breathe, after all. Breathing sustained life. Eddie chose life. And if life comes with the divine decadence of jonquils, then so be it. Bryony smiled. “You like them! They do smell wonderful, don’t they?”