Secret Garden

Reads 462
Votes 9
Parts 10
Time 37m

Reads 462
Votes 9
Parts 10
Time 37m

crossoverfanfiction death flowerfell flowers flowersintheattic friends garden goldenflowers mtebott trauma

Golden Flowers... They were her favourites and the ones that grow on her face... She went blind.. But she was still happy... She rests now on a flower bed with those very same flowers... Drifting off to sleep.. Into her garden...All Rights Reserved

crossoverfanfiction death flowerfell flowers flowersintheattic friends garden goldenflowers mtebott trauma

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10 parts

#316flowers

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In the dimly lit waiting room of the therapist's office, a young woman sits with tense shoulders and determined eyes. She's just come out of her session-relieved, but still tangled in a quiet storm. She's a survivor of a traumatic kidnapping, and it shows-not in scars, but in the way she carries herself. Small in stature, yes, but you can feel the simmering anger beneath her skin, forged by everything she's been through and everything no one helped her fix. Across the room, another person waits. Quieter. Equally haunted. She fidgets, eyes darting, unable to stay still for long. There's history in her posture-years of growing up around violence, chaos, and never feeling safe. Her ADHD doesn't help; her mind's a pinball machine of thoughts, never landing, always spinning. When the first woman rises to leave, their eyes meet. Just for a second. Long enough to say everything words can't. "He's not really helping us, is he?" she murmurs under her breath. The other just nods. Silent. Knowing. Maybe they weren't supposed to meet again. But fate-messy, unpredictable fate-had other plans. Another day. Another place. Same ache in their bones. Something soft begins to grow between them. Tentative. Delicate. Real. They don't pretend it'll be easy, but in each other, they spot the flicker of something rare: hope. The kind that dares to whisper of healing, of peace, maybe even of love. "Even if we've only known each other a few months, it feels like I could tell you anything. Everything. From my darkest secrets to the dumbest memes. From late-night thoughts to chaotic brain farts. I don't know-It just feels right." -Clementine Sousa

A teenaged girl rescues a dead-looking plant and nurses it back to life. But as the plant's lot improves it seems that so does that of those associated with it

...And from now I'll be the most fierce thing when I'll break open my heart and let the wildflower grow inside -Aayushi Roses lose their beauty without their sharp thorns, "Allow me to drink deeply from the crystalline waters where mountain streams overflow, let the fragrance of wildflowers swirl freely in my veins. Grant me the solace of sleeping in your meadows, cradled by the lush, green blades of grass. Let me stroll along the sunlit highway, hand in hand with my brother, basking in the warmth of peace. Permit me to leave this world in my footsteps, before I descend into the earth beneath. It was only then that I realized how sadness had wrapped itself around me, as frigid as the guilt that crept through my lungs. Life was on the brink of transformation, teetering between the promise of better days and the weight of the unknown." Roselle welcomed home, so she thought.

Flowers always wilt away. Her beauty matched the flower she was named after so well. His eyes mesmerized her in ways she never thought possible. {pronounced: Uh-mar-eh-lees}

Evan always tried to hide his flowers. It was pointless, almost everyone had them, but their flowers were bright yellows and pinks that made them look like walking flower bouquets. His were dark colors - blacks, reds, browns, and purples - that made him look morbid and intimidating. And his flowers stood for the worst things too. While Jared was covered in bright pink flowers that meant heartbreak, Evan had a huge, red, zinnia on the back of his neck that meant depression, dark purple irises on his arms, legs, and face that meant bruises, and black flowers lining his wrists meaning self harm. There were almost 47 black flowers. He hated it, being marked as the kid who was supposed to fall in love with a depressed psychopath. It didn't help that his anxiety would spike at the worst possible times, causing him to trip and stutter at the worst times. • Connor didn't choose to be born with depression, a feeling that started at the back of his neck and just seemed to grow. He didn't choose to be covered in burns and bruises from his abusive father, and he didn't choose to have a bright blue flower on the palm of his hand that symbolized anxiety. He wanted to end it all - the pain, the humiliation, the fucking flower that would grow at the worst possible times. He hated how everything that happened to him would affect his soulmate. Only he deserved to feel that pain.

ACHICHIBO~ The little girl I knew by Kaz1189

Due to childhood trauma, Jasmine had to suffer a great loss for the rest of her life. Toby on the other hand was striving to lead a simple life away from his past broken relationship. Fate destined the two to meet in a very simple but extraordinary way, where love managed to creep in and bloom in a very unrealistic manner, a manner that Toby couldn't comprehend, and for that, he almost lost the most precious thing life has given him. Will he manage to love and understand? or will things get out of hand?

❝She looked at me, and suddenly flowers grew in my chest.❞

Her Fate [FlowerFell FanFiction] BOOK 1 [REDO DONE] by TheGuardianAngels

Ever since Frisk landed in the world of UnderFell, every single monster wanted her soul. That's until the one day she died. After the reset, she appeared with a flower on her arm. And that's when, Sans noticed something strange going on with her. Insanity slowly crept up her back, making her think that she would die countless times. Each time she dies, she would have more and more flowers. In which case, is true. But the flowers would at some point kill her, in which in ease, would stop the insanity. Would Sans be close to Frisk and stop her from going insane and die from that or die from the flowers they have or not? These decisions, are all up either Frisk's hands or Sans. Now at the end of this world, Frisk would be blinded by the flowers if she lived. Started April 1st, 2016 Ended April 21st, 2016 Thank @minthynk for the cover!

After seeing that haunted creature on that mansion, Isabelle turns to be witnessing a traumatic and hurtful break down. It's all connected with that mansion. She's trying to figure it out by her own when she looses one of her mate. But the others aren't accepting her to fight alone. They work together to find the cause intensely. Lot of tragic happens in between for Isabelle. She can't stop dreaming of getting abused by some man. What happens next?

╭───╯ . . . . . ➷ Did you know.... There is a kind of love called... Letting Go? ➶ . . . . . ╰───╮ ╔Tokyo Revengers Oneshots Angst╝ ▂▃▄▅▆▇█▓▒░ ░▒▓█▇▆▅▄▃▂ Warning: Wrong Grammars Triggers like (sui**de and other traumatic experience) Deaths Angst ( All ) ────────────────── If not comfortable, Please don't continue, mental health is also important. Red_Lily!

Invisible String

In the dimly lit waiting room of the therapist's office, a young woman sits with tense shoulders and determined eyes. She's just come out of her session-relieved, but still tangled in a quiet storm. She's a survivor of a traumatic kidnapping, and it shows-not in scars, but in the way she carries herself. Small in stature, yes, but you can feel the simmering anger beneath her skin, forged by everything she's been through and everything no one helped her fix. Across the room, another person waits. Quieter. Equally haunted. She fidgets, eyes darting, unable to stay still for long. There's history in her posture-years of growing up around violence, chaos, and never feeling safe. Her ADHD doesn't help; her mind's a pinball machine of thoughts, never landing, always spinning. When the first woman rises to leave, their eyes meet. Just for a second. Long enough to say everything words can't. "He's not really helping us, is he?" she murmurs under her breath. The other just nods. Silent. Knowing. Maybe they weren't supposed to meet again. But fate-messy, unpredictable fate-had other plans. Another day. Another place. Same ache in their bones. Something soft begins to grow between them. Tentative. Delicate. Real. They don't pretend it'll be easy, but in each other, they spot the flicker of something rare: hope. The kind that dares to whisper of healing, of peace, maybe even of love. "Even if we've only known each other a few months, it feels like I could tell you anything. Everything. From my darkest secrets to the dumbest memes. From late-night thoughts to chaotic brain farts. I don't know-It just feels right." -Clementine Sousa

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