Ugly Flowers Novels & Stories

“Sunflowers are also beautiful. Very large." The size of the petals is bigger than my five fingers. It really is a giant sunflower that is simply amazing. I couldn't help but reach out my hand and touch the sunflower petals very carefully. I guess Julia didn't mind what I did because she was just standing where she was at the moment. “Most of the flowers grown here are tropical flowers.” "It must be because they have more beautiful and attractive colors. Look at the red rose over there, so pretty. The rose reminds me of Beauty and the Beast."

Then the ground gives way beneath my boot. Not a trap, exactly, but a collapse into a sunken basin overgrown with flowers the size of small cars. Their petals shimmer in hues I have never seen outside fever dreams, violent purples bleeding into glowing golds, their centers pulsing faintly as though they have heartbeats. Behind me, the others tumble down after me in a tangle of curses and laughter. Becky, our botanist with the sharp tongue and even sharper hips, lands on her ass and immediately bursts into laughter.

Chase moved away from the hole to let them have a look. Walter was the first to look through the hole. "Isn't that a Man-Eating Flower? There's also a Coffin Plant. That's a Rotten Flower. Those are all evil stuff!"

- Some flowers are deadly, and the most dangerous are the beautiful ones. - Not always the beautiful things are the least harmless. - Quite right. - I said in agreement, because it was the absolute truth. - Tell me which kingdom this one comes from. - Oh, yes, of course. This is from the Belfast Kingdom: known for the arrogance of men and brutal force. And there is no marriage there, everyone is free to be with whomever they want, couples can even live together and build a family, but neither of them will be judged or condemned by society if they are with someone other than their partner and without priority. In the hottest area, where little vegetation survives, grows a tree that gives frui

Marcus glanced up from his computer. "Ooh, whose the admirer?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face. "Shut up," I laughed, but my cheeks flushed with pleasure. I carefully untied the simple white ribbon, my fingers fumbling with anticipation. I lifted the lid. And my smile died. Nestled inside against a bed of stark white tissue paper weren't roses or tulips. They were flowers I'd never seen before. A deep, bruised purple, almost black. The petals were waxy and sharp, the stems twisted and thick with thorns. They looked... violent.

Honestly, she was scarier than Maleficent. “Why would I video call a disgusting face like yours? Gross! Fine, if Fredric’s not there, I’ll call him later. By the way, I called specifically to insult you. I’m bored and frustrated, and your ugly face isn’t worthy of being my rival, Mathilda. Just because Fredric and I are fighting doesn’t mean he’s yours! No! It will never happen! Wake up from your fantasy, bitch!” Paula hung up abruptly. The morning that had started so beautifully now felt like a storm. And just like that, the spirit I’d built up vanished.

I ignored it, my thoughts drifting instead to a memory of a couple who had a picturesque outdoor wedding. "Do you remember that wedding on the lawn?" Frank's face lit up with recognition, and he nodded, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I remember. They were so in love, so blissfully happy. I always pictured us like that. You haven't talked to me in so long. Does this mean—" I cut him off, my voice steady. "They got a divorce a few years later. He cheated because she was disfigured, and he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. That's the thing about the love you're clinging to—it's just as fragile."

Or thinking hard about something and therefore doing something stupid. All three were equally likely. I looked back toward the tent, at the basket of strange flowers glowing faintly beneath the lamplight. Flowers from an enemy. A letter Dante didn't write. A scent too strong to ignore. A suspicious plant Kyle's never seen before. This was clearly a move. ***

Had he chosen wrong? "They're just what I thought!" she shouted from inside. That tone of voice was new. "And no, I hate flowers, I detest them, I don't like them, I've never liked them, and I especially hate carnations. They're too... I don't know! I don't like them, they're the stupidest flowers that could exist. The ugliest ones there are, Robert. You have very bad taste in flowers. It was the worst choice, and I don't want them. I hate them!"

I’d never seen anything like them before. Alaric’s face darkened. “Shit.” “What is it?” I asked. “These flowers—they’re not normal. They grow only on cursed soil. The kind that’s been fed human flesh. Sacrificial.” A chill rolled down my spine. “You mean… someone died here?” “More than one,” Alaric muttered. “This is black magic. Whoever took them isn’t just hiding—they’re cloaking their trail.” “So the scent—” “An illusion,” he finished. “You’ve been following a trap.”