Flxwer

[stella-lovely34]

I kinda of want to make a anime but I need help!!! ❤❤❤❤🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Dm me or ask here to help!!??

[stella-lovely34]

Hello, I am Tareq from Gaza Iam trying save my family from the genocide happening here. I ask for your help in spreading my story and donating if you can contribute anything, no matter how small.Please don,t forget to sharethe latest post from my page and follow my account to help spread the story to the world. Thank you.

Go help guys!!!❤❤❤❤❤💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💘💘💘💘💘💘💗💗💗💗💜💜💜💜🎀🎀🎀🎀

[stella-lovely34]

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Violet Thorn was drawn to nature from a young age. She felt most at home among flowers and plants, seeing a kind of beauty in their quiet, dangerous strength. But when her family moved to the old countryside estate, she found herself captivated by its sprawling, untamed garden. It was a place of mystery and shadows, with plants that seemed to whisper secrets in the wind.

One night, she ventured deep into the garden, following a path she hadn’t noticed before. The moon shone down, lighting her way until she reached a clearing filled with dark purple flowers. Their petals shimmered, and a sweet scent filled the air. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to touch them.

As her fingers brushed the petals, she felt a sharp sting. Thorns dug into her skin, and a cold shiver ran through her body. “What—” she gasped, trying to pull away, but it was too late. The flowers seemed to come alive, wrapping their vines around her wrist. The whispers in the wind grew louder, echoing in her mind.

Join us. Become one with the garden.

Violet’s eyes widened, but she didn’t scream. Instead, she felt a strange calm. “Fine,” she whispered back. “Show me what you can do.”

From that moment on, Violet became the garden’s protector, its queen. She could make plants grow at will, and the garden responded to her every command. But as her power grew, so did the curse. Thorns sprouted beneath her skin, and her veins turned black where the curse spread.

She began to lure people into her garden—travelers who wandered too close or those who sought to destroy her beloved plants. “You shouldn’t have come here,” she’d say, her smile sweet as the flowers that would soon ensnare them. “The garden doesn’t like intruders.”

Some say her garden is endless, that once you enter, you’ll never find your way out. The vines close in, the flowers whisper, and Violet watches with a smile. She’s always waiting, always listening for the next voice to wander too close.

And if you find yourself lost among the flowers, beware the girl with the green eyes and thorns beneath her skin. She’ll greet you with a smile, and the garden will claim another soul.

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[stella-lovely34]

Amelia Graves: The Cursed Sketch

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Amelia Graves was never the type to stand out. A quiet girl with a passion for art, she felt invisible at school—just another face in the crowded halls. She preferred it that way. Her sketchbook was her sanctuary, and her drawings were her only companions. When her family moved to the outskirts of town, she saw it as an opportunity for new inspiration, especially with their eerie, old house.

The house, standing alone at the end of a foggy road, was a relic of the past. Neighbors whispered that it was haunted, cursed even. But Amelia didn’t believe in ghosts. She welcomed the shadows and the stories that came with them. One night, as she explored its narrow hallways, she found a hidden door in the attic. It was small, covered in dust, and creaked open like the hinges were screaming.

Inside, she saw nothing but darkness—until her eyes landed on a sketchbook lying in the corner, almost as if it had been waiting for her. She felt a chill as she picked it up. “What are you doing here?” she murmured, running her fingers over its worn cover. “You look like you’ve been abandoned for years.”

She hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her. She flipped it open. The pages were blank, but as she stared at them, she felt something stir within her—a hunger she couldn’t quite place. Her hand moved on its own, reaching for her pen. “Just one sketch,” she whispered. “One quick sketch.”

Her hand moved, and the pen danced across the paper, faster and faster. She didn’t know what she was drawing until she saw it: a forest, dark and twisted, with herself standing in the middle. Her eyes in the drawing were hollow, her mouth open in a silent scream. “What… what is this?” she asked, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

Then, she heard it. A whisper. Faint, like the rustle of paper. She whipped around, but there was no one there. “Hello?” she called, her voice barely a whisper. “Is someone there?”

No response, just the cold, empty air. She laughed nervously, clutching the sketchbook tighter. “It’s just my imagination. It’s just—” But as she looked down at the page, the whisper grew louder, forming words this time.

Draw more, Draw more, Draw more, Draw more, Draw mor-

Amelia’s eyes widened. She slammed the sketchbook shut, her hands trembling. “No. This is just a prank. Someone’s messing with me.” But deep down, she knew that wasn’t true.

The next day at school, Amelia couldn’t focus. The whispering haunted her, the memory of those hollow eyes staring back at her from the sketch. She tried to ignore it, tried to lose herself in her other drawings, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the sketchbook. Draw more, it had said.

When she returned home, she found herself back in her room, staring at the sketchbook lying on her desk. “Okay,” she whispered. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.” She opened it, feeling a strange sense of excitement. “Let’s see what you really want.”

She began to draw, and as she did, the whispering returned, louder and clearer. “That’s it,” she said, almost laughing. “You want me to draw nightmares, don’t you? You want me to make them real.” Her eyes shone with a strange light as she sketched twisted figures and monstrous faces, each one more terrifying than the last.

The ink seemed to move on its own, flowing across the page as if alive. “You’re not so scary,” she taunted, watching the figures take shape. “I’ve drawn worse.”

But the whispering only grew louder. It wasn’t just voices now—it was screams, echoes of something far away. And the shadows around her room seemed to lengthen, creeping closer. “What do you want from me?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Is this some kind of trick?”

The sketchbook’s pages fluttered, and the ink bled into the air, forming words: You are mine now.

Amelia laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Mine? You think I’m afraid of you?” She reached out to touch the ink, but the moment her fingers brushed the page, she felt a pull. The room around her dissolved, replaced by the twisted forest from her drawing. “What—where am I?” she shouted, spinning around. “This can’t be real!”

The trees loomed over her, their branches curling like claws. Shadows moved between them, eyes blinking in the darkness. The whispers became voices, all calling her name. “Let me out!” she screamed, clutching the sketchbook to her chest. “I didn’t ask for this!”

But there was no escape. The sketchbook’s power had trapped her. And as she wandered through the monochrome forest, she felt the ink seep into her skin, staining her veins black. Her body became a canvas, each step bringing her deeper into the nightmare she had created.

When her parents found her room the next morning, they saw nothing but the sketchbook, lying open on her desk. The final drawing was of the house, its windows dark. In one of them, they saw Amelia’s face, her eyes still hollow, her smile twisted.

She’s still there, waiting for the next artist to open her book and set her free. And if you listen closely, you’ll hear her voice, whispering from the pages:

“Come on, draw with me. Let’s create something beautiful.”

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