❝ 𝙾𝚑, 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. ❞ ❝ 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕. ❞ ❝ 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. ❞ ❝ 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚜. ❞ ❝ 𝙾𝚑, 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢. 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚎? ❞ ❝ 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛-𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕. ❞ 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝, A half-demon girl is brought to Grace Field House-or Plantation 3-as a Sister. The half-demon girl was to learn as much as she could from the youngest ever Mama, for than she, too, could one day become a Mama. Though is the title of Mama the real reason she was there? (Y/n) backstory holds more sinister secrets than meets the eye. At first, her actions were to get revenge on the demon race for the hell that they put her through, and now her actions lead her to where she is now. Oh, where, oh where, could our little hybrid butterfly be? (ɢɪꜰꜱ, ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏꜱ, ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ, ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ, ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴄ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ! ɪᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀꜱ!)

In the quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, the Mayor's daughter lives a life dipped in soft pink, cassette tapes, and milkshakes at Mel's Drive-In. Everyone knows her. Everyone likes her. No one suspects that she is Subject 002 - a psychic from the same lab that created 001 and Eleven, hidden away since infancy and believed dead for years. As strange events begin tearing through Hawkins, her carefully controlled world starts to fracture. Monsters surface, the lab resurfaces, and the people around her - friends, classmates, rivals - become dangerously attached to her in ways that grow deeper and more unhinged with every passing season. While she plays the role of the perfect 80s girl, she secretly holds the power to bend reality, protect her little sister Eloise, and decide the fate of a town that has unknowingly built its life around her. Caught between pastel dreams and cosmic horror, love and obsession, family and secrets, she must survive the darkness without ever letting the world know what she truly is - the strongest experiment the lab ever created, and the heart of Hawkins' unfolding nightmare.

(Y/N) Bonibel Shiru has always believed in goodness. In kindness. In people. In the idea that the world, no matter how cruel, can be softened if you love it enough. Light Yagami believes the world must be controlled. To the outside world, they are simply close friends-two brilliant students walking the same halls, sharing quiet conversations, laughter, and unspoken trust. (Y/N) finds Light intense but endearing, amused by his certainty, charmed by the way he talks about the future as if it's already written. She doesn't realize it is. Because in Light's mind, her life has already been planned-every milestone, every smile, every role she will play at his side. And when the Death Note falls into his hands, that future stops being a fantasy and becomes a necessity. Light does not see himself as a monster. He sees himself as a protector. A god building a world gentle enough for someone like her. As criminals begin to die and the name "Kira" spreads across the globe, (Y/N) remains untouched-wrapped in golden light, shielded from the truth by Light's careful words and calm logic. He watches her constantly, studies her reactions, rewrites reality around her with surgical precision. Anyone who threatens her peace disappears. Anyone who pulls her attention away becomes a problem. Anyone who could show her the truth is a risk Light cannot allow. And the more the world darkens, the more she shines. A golden thing. Too soft. Too precious. Something Light believes must be protected at any cost-even from itself. Because if she ever looks at him and sees what he truly is... The world he's building will have failed. And Light Yagami does not accept failure.

I decided to make another! lol This time, it's a full reboot - a new timeline, new foundation, and everything built from the beginning with more depth, emotion, and obsession. Before the events of Stranger Things Season 1, (Y/N) Pierce was already part of the party. Bikes, D&D, after-school hangouts - she was their quiet constant, the girl who made the world feel safe. Then she got sick. Her hearing began to vanish. And one night, her family had to leave Hawkins for better hospitals. Three years of silence followed. When the Pierces finally return - after the Demogorgon, after Will, after the town has already been cracked open - (Y/N) comes back different. She's thirteen now. Deaf. Softer. Braver. Marked by vitiligo and starlight. And everything the boys thought they'd lost. Her return reopens wounds they never healed and attachments that were never healthy to begin with. The house on the edge of town becomes their refuge. Her room becomes sacred. Her presence becomes the only thing that makes Hawkins feel normal again. As the Upside Down spreads its shadow and Hawkins unravels, the boys' bond with (Y/N) deepens into something more dangerous, more desperate. They have already lost her once. They will not survive losing her again. This story follows their slow descent - from childhood friendship to emotional dependence, from protection to obsession - as monsters rise in the dark and love sharpens in the light. Because some bonds don't fade when you're separated. They harden.

Upon the hearth where shadows cling, A boy became the Watchdog King. With sharpen'd cane and eye of frost, He guards the Crown, no matter cost. Beside him stands a radiant flame, A lord of foreign blood and name; Whose honey'd tongue and tender art, Could stir the stone in Ciel's cold heart. Through circus tents and alleys dim, Where laughter dies and hopes grow grim, They walk as one, both steel and song, To right the twisted, punish wrong. The Queen commands, the butler smiles, They tread through blood, through endless trials. Yet love, though rare, has found its place, In firelit rooms, in soft embrace. So whisper low, for all of time: The Devereux and Phantomhive entwine. In London's smoke, through grief and strife, Two names, two hearts - one shadowed life.

Bunny and the Hare In silken halls where shadows play, A gentle rose was kept away. With ribbons tied and whispers near, The world called out, but she'd not hear. A bunny soft, with jeweled eyes bright, Her comfort guard through every night. A hare of silk, of phantom thread, A gift from ghosts, the lost, the dead. The nobles wept, the nobles swore, To cage the girl forevermore. Her laughter mute, her gaze so rare, The bunny her shield, the hare her snare. Between two beasts she walks alone, One all warmth, the other stone. A fragile heart the dark declare: She is the Bunny. And they- the Hare.

Paris knows her as something soft. A small girl with gentle hands, quiet laughter, and a sweetness that lingers like sugar on the tongue. She lives tucked away with her grandparents, walks familiar streets, smiles politely, and pretends her world is simple. People see her and think harmless. Fragile. Easy to overlook. They're wrong. Beneath silk sleeves and lowered lashes, something older breathes through her veins-something patient, something watching. The lotus does not grow in clean water, and neither did she. Born from bloodlines scattered across the world, hidden for a reason, she carries a power that does not beg to be seen... it waits to be worshipped. When Paris begins to fracture under something darker than akumas, she rises-not as a hero people understand, but as something far more dangerous. Her power does not just heal. It binds. It amplifies. It reshapes hearts until love turns heavy, suffocating, inescapable. And she is not alone. They gather around her slowly-friends, rivals, lovers-each one drawn in by something they can't explain and refuse to question. Marinette watches her like she's the center of gravity itself, devotion turning sharp and territorial. Others follow with their own reasons, their own desires, their own quiet justifications. None of them believe they're doing anything wrong. They call it love. They call it protection. They don't notice the way their hands linger too long, the way their choices narrow her world, the way her name starts to sound less like a person and more like something to possess. But the lotus remembers what it grew through. And when the water turns dark again, when blood and obsession stain the city she was meant to protect, she won't rise untouched. She will bloom. And everything that loves her will drown trying to hold her. 🪷