En La Quebrada nadie es inocente. Cataleya Reyes, colombiana de 23 años, carga con un pasado marcado por el narcotráfico, un homicidio en defensa propia y el negocio sucio del proxenetismo. Ahora, bajo el ala de María, intenta sobrevivir entre alianzas y traiciones. Pero el mayor peligro no siempre viene de un enemigo... a veces aparece en forma de una mirada intensa. Y en los ojos de Cachete descubrirá que amar tras las rejas puede ser tan letal como cualquier condena. by: ___Camilaaaa__

Winnie Potter had once been warm-full of laughter, always trailing after James and Sirius like a second shadow. But everything changed the moment the Sorting Hat whispered Slytherin. Her bond with them cracked, then broke. She became the black sheep of the Potter name, a stain on their legacy. They stopped looking at her the same way. Eventually, they stopped looking at all. But in the shadows of Slytherin, she found something else-not redemption, but belonging. Her new friends and family who held her hand when no one else would. Love, in quiet looks and cruel loyalty. Peace, in secrets. It wasn't what she thought she wanted. But maybe it was what she needed because, If the light casts you out, are you wrong for choosing the dark? (I started this when I was like 13, and just now decided to continue it. The writing gets better after chapter 3-4. Please bare with me guys. Also, there might be some small grammatical mistakes in the book because English isn't my first language)

Y/N, a manmade Viltrumite forged in captivity, is unleashed against the horde of Invincible variants. But when the Marks, alternate versions of the hero, recognize her, their mission of destruction takes a desperate turn. Haunted by lost memories and driven by a fierce desire to save her, they must break the collar's control and reclaim a love lost across worlds. Can they redeem Y/N, or will their efforts shatter the very fabric of reality? Now, they must defy their mission and risk everything to save her, hoping to rewrite a tragic fate. Variants: Sinister Mark, Mohawk Mark, No Goggles Mark/Lensless Mark, Prisoner Mark, Omni-Mark, Viltrumite Mark, Full-masked Mark/Phantom Mark, Emperor Mark, No-Mask Mark

He's never been gentle. She's never been safe. But even monsters can be tempted, and even prey can learn to bare its teeth.

★ ─ currently revamping , slow updates In which a traumatized singer is transported to another world with magic after being killed, is forced to interact with mentally unstable magicians, realizes that his singing can be considered magic, and gets adopted by his housewarden and his vice along the way. Kiruko doesn't know what is happening in his life but it's better than his previous one that's for sure.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered, swallowing hard. He reached out tentatively, his gloved fingers brushing against the infant's cheek. It was ice-cold. The baby's chest rose and fell faintly, each breath a Herculean effort. Beneath the child, the tarp was damp-not with water, but something metallic-smelling and sticky. Blood? Ramirez's stomach twisted. "Dispatch," he whispered hoarsely into his radio, forcing his voice steady. "Officer Ramirez, 9th and Mercer. I need an ambulance. I found an infant. Abandoned. Possible injury." . . "They found a baby in Gotham," Bruce finally said. "Abandoned in an alley. They ran a DNA test... and it matched you." Dick froze, the world around him suddenly quiet, as if the city itself held its breath. "What?" he said sharply, disbelief washing over him. "That's impossible."

Jaehwan no esperaba encontrar a un humano tan pronto como saliera de Nightmare Tower. Pero lo hizo. Y esto, sin que él lo sepa, ha cambiado su destino. ----- - Capítulos: 14/??- Incompleta/ en curso - creador: CrazyOkami - ao3 - link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38954028 -traducción autorizada (Amo esta historia :D )

Por mucho que lo intente, Midoriya Izuku no puede convertirse en otra cosa. Tiene esta sed; sed de sangre. Nada más que el vital líquido carmesí lo apagará, pero este monstruo aún intenta convertirse en un salvador.

Dalia Burck no era lo suficientemente valiente como para pelear, pero sí lo bastante para irse cuando las circunstancias lo requerían. Sabía que a veces el coraje no se mide en batallas físicas, sino en la habilidad de escapar a tiempo. No era la persona más brillante de la sala, pero tenía una astucia sencilla que la mantenía a flote, sobrevivir con lo que tenía era su especialidad. No era ambiciosa, pero tenía una extraña habilidad para conseguir lo que quería, no a través de grandes planes, sino con una mirada, una palabra bien dicha en el momento justo. Dalia no era una sola persona, era muchas. Dependía de la situación, de las personas a su alrededor, de lo que la vida le ofreciera en ese preciso instante. A veces se veía a sí misma como un reflejo quebrado de mil versiones de quien podría ser, y otras, como alguien completamente vacía. Era tantas personas y a la vez ninguna. James Potter, por otro lado, era el típico chico popular, siempre rodeado de su pequeño círculo de amigos. Se divertía con bromas pesadas y una sonrisa que nunca desaparecía de su rostro, a veces tan segura de sí mismo que ni siquiera notaba lo mucho que lastimaba a los demás con sus palabras. A veces parecía tener el mundo bajo control, pero en el fondo, no era tan distinto de Dalia. Solo que él no lo sabía.