A juvenile assassin logs his kills in palindromes. Then his creators ask: Do you remember the fridge? In the frozen dystopia of Mechaville, 9-year-old Eli; a cybernetic weapon with OCD kill rituals-terminates anyone who disrupts his perfect symmetry. His rules: ☑ 10:10 death timestamps. ☑ 12g carbon quotas. ☑ White walls, always. His flaw: "Are you water?" His nightmare: A shadowy figure whispers, "You're Lucidity's first failure." 3 Volumes. 17 Acts. Zero Symmetry Left Unbroken. Volume 0: How Manuel turned a Kyiv lab into a graveyard (and why Eli was his 12-gram mistake). Vote & follow to unshackle Eli's 12-gram ghost from the fridge. No remorse. Only palindromes. Do it.

In a kingdom where beauty rules and mirrors never lie-Queen Zailah has only ever trusted one thing: her reflection. When a defeated rival offers her a mysterious enchanted mirror, Zailah sees more than a gift-she sees a god-like vision of herself. Beautiful beyond mortal bounds, the mirror becomes her obsession. But as her throne gleams with power, unrest brews in the shadows. Callista, the queen's loyal chambermaid, is torn between duty and love when her forbidden lover begs her to steal the mirror in exchange for a chance at freedom. What begins as a desperate theft ignites a chain of betrayal, unmasking ambition, deception, and a curse foretold by the stars. As illusions shatter and truths claw their way to the surface, the queen spirals into madness, and the price of perfection demands blood. In a world where beauty is power and mirrors never forget-how long can anyone hold onto the face they desire? Perfect for fans of twisted fairytales and dark mythology, Mirror Mirror is a tale of vanity, vengeance, and the terrifying cost of seeing yourself too clearly.

He kills for fun. She weaponises honesty. Together, they make chaos feel romantic (and ruin people recreationally). |-I genuinely can't decide if I want to fuck you... or kill you. -Why not both?| |-Losing, hm? It's not like I haven't been waiting to try...| |If I start bleeding vulnerability... you'll be mopping it up with that precious pride of yours.| The Black Whale. Two chronically bored souls collide. Let the shitshow begin. One ship. Three disasters. Zero emotional stability. (HISOKA SMOKING POT IN CHAPTER 16) "I never meant to be the main character. I was just trying to vibe, vape, and maybe emotionally destabilise a clown or two. But somehow... I became the glue. The prophecy. The mango-scented soul of their existential spiral. If that's not literature, I don't know what is." - Laval the Vaper, former cultist, current icon, future academic citation. ⚠️DISCLAIMER: This story is laced with existential dread and might induce a philosophical crisis. Read at your own discretion. (I don't own the rights to the location, Nen or Hisoka. Credit goes to Yoshihiro Togashi.)

Two liars co-author each other's downfall through chaos, mutual understanding, and a game of emotional chicken. Enemies-to-lovers-to-co-conspirators-to-who-even-knows-who-they-are-at-this-point. #1 Philosophical (July '25) #1 Character Study (June '25) #1 Intellectual (Sep '25) #1 witw (Oct '25) #1 Threats (Nov '25) ‼️DISCLAIMER: This story includes mature themes, irredeemable chronic use of foul language, as well depictions of criminal activity (for entertainment purposes only, none of which should be reproduced in real-world scenarios). ["- I twirl your hair, whisper poetry into your soul, threaten your peace of mind - and that gets a 'would not recommend'? And then... you orgasm over ground beef. In my presence. - Mmmhmmm. Best MEAT I've had in a WHIIIILE. Soooooo good..."] ["I had a goldfish once. Loyal. Very dependable. Floated just right. Watched me with those glassy little eyes until it gave up."] ["- Should I clap? - Mmm~ depends. Are you touched? - Wanna touch me? Massage my shoulders or something. They're stiff as fuck from carrying the CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR BULLSHIT!"] ["You don't fall for a person. You fall for the way they fit your scars. ...It's terribly poetic. I might kill someone over it."] GENRE: Immaculate degeneracy/theatrical sadboy horrorcore. Dark comedy neo-noir satire wrapped in romantic nihilism, criminal drama, and metafictional mayhem - like if a philosophy major and a con artist co-wrote a heist while flirting through existential dread (ft. Pigeon). ⚠️ Contains unstable metaphors, masked intimacy, and disturbing amounts of velvet smirking. NOTE ON FORMAT: Dialogue is tagged with 'SCRIBE:' or 'HISOKA:' to mark speaker changes. No new tag = same character is still talking. Think of it like a script. [I don't own Hisoka. No one does. (But credit goes to Yoshihiro Togashi.) Don't own the rights to songs added via links either, the rest is original]