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Of the Eleventh
by Azrakatz

“Adrien Agreste! Oh my god, that’s Adrien Agreste!” He rolled painfully onto his back and stared up at the smoked-over sky, the excitable flash of television cameras burning into his periphery. So the transformation had worn off, then. With his luck, he really should have seen it coming. A “Chat Noir detransforms mid-battle on national television” fic :3

Words: 2374, Chapters: 1, Status: In-Progress, Language: English

  • Fandoms: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
  • Rated: T
  • Genre: Angst/Drama
  • Characters: Adrien A./Cat Noir, Marinette D-C./Ladybug, Plagg, Gabriel A./Hawkmoth
  • Pairings: [Adrien A./Cat Noir, Marinette D-C./Ladybug]

Read Here:

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and you think I’m crazy ( well that’s not fair)

At the age of 16, Kim Seokjin was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Currently at the age of 24, Seokjin lives with his caretaker, a nurse named Jung Hoseok. Away from home, away from his parents, isolated in his sanctuary, Seokjin befriends the voices in his head. But, little does everyone know, those voices may turn out to be much more than a figment of Seokjin’s imagination.

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Wow, congratulations! Of course you can self rec!

An Angel’s Hope by Beckers522

The Avians and the Serpiente, two kingdoms of shape-shifters, have been at war for thousands of years until their leaders, the beautiful hawk Tuuli Thea, Danica Sharde, and the mysterious cobra Diente, Zane Cobriana, decide to stop the fighting once and for all with their union. Danica and Zane have hope that things will get better, but their peace is fragile. Aziraphale, member of the Royal Flight and personal guard to Danica has sworn to defend her at the cost of his life, but as he travels with her to the Serpiente palace, he runs into someone from his past, a serpent with fiery red hair and bright amber eyes that he thought he would never see again.

As time marches on, Aziraphale finds himself growing closer to the beautiful and intriguing serpent dancer, Crowley. His heart yearns to open up to the man, but Aziraphale is afraid. The war stole the lives of everyone he has ever cared about. What if he takes that risk and lets Crowley into his battered and broken heart? What if Zane and Danica’s peace does not last? What if their two people were never meant to live as one?

What if he finally allows himself to love Crowley only to lose him forever?

~Mod P

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Ch 1: Booked U,  Ch 2: Teatime,  Ch 3: Nature,  Ch 4: Waterfalls(unbolded chapters coming soon)

Tags:@rainbowmoosie, @melodys4029​, @loomiz​, @eliza123sworld​, @super-pink-a-palouza​, @bskarsgardlove92​, @dragsraksllib ,@0cean-witch​, @grandpa-sweaters​, @katieskrsgard​,  @sugiseto​, @badccaptain​,  @wikiss21​ 

An Unexpected Adventure Ch 1: Booked Up

Notes: For all the writers with great ideas until you sit down at the laptop. Original characters, but male is based on Bill’s look for Clark posted on Instagram. Just a bit of angst and fluff in this chapter. I made the manip pic and title board.

Photo from @alexanderkarim ig edited by me. 


Laura Embridge walked in the door; the air was cold but something about it smelled like home sweet home…

“That is a fucking Taylor Swift song.” Genna Johanson grumbled at her own writing. She struck out the cliché text and thought more about what she actually wanted to write.  

Genna was working on a follow-up book to her recently declared top ten read, The Grateful Bliss. Her publisher, Jeri, had called her just two weeks ago seeing dollars signs.  

“Genna did you see that The Grateful Bliss is on the best sellers top ten list this morning?” Jeri proclaimed excitedly. “You are number nine. How about a follow-up? We must get you out there for some book signings this week too. Strike while you are hot.”  

“I would not say number nine is hot.” Genna laughed. “I’m just glad people liked my book. I have been thinking about another story. Just musings really.”

“Well, get those musing written out.” Jeri sounded a littler demanding. “Can you have a good first draft in a month?”

“I can try.” When Genna wrote her first book she barely had a chapter done in a month. A whole lusty, fantasy, thought provoking book in one month would be next to impossible. “I just really need to buckle down to writing.”

“Whatever you need from me, you got it.” Jeri promised. “I want you to get this down, so we get another book on the shelves by early next year. But first a book signing at just a few places, ok?”

Genna took a deep breath. “Okay, just a few.”

Keep reading

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Dean&Sam (implied Dean/Cas)

~1360 words

Dean hasn’t dreamed about the kids in Baba Yaga’s lair since before Hell.

He’s got enough to take their place. There are nightmares that take pieces of it all of course; his brain likes to twist it up and spit his greatest hits back at him - he’ll be torturing someone or something in Purgatory with Alistair leering over him or have a hellhound drag him screaming into a Ma’lak box or be standing on the coast in North Cove, Washington with the Mark burning on his arm, a knife in his hand, and Cas dead at his feet. Maybe sometimes there’s a pile of dead children in the background or a body he has to step over on his way through the muck. Maybe sometimes there are bodies he recognizes: Ben or Kevin or Charlie or a child Sam with yellow eyes. Maybe his own brain doesn’t do him any favors, and he’s known that for a long time.

It’s all why he doesn’t sleep more than he has to, and why there’s booze under the bed, but that particular warehouse with its particular chill, that particular feeling of being 15 and alone and the closest thing to an adult in the room - that’s a place he hasn’t been back to in awhile.

Read on Ao3

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Of the Eleventh
by Azrakatz

“Adrien Agreste! Oh my god, that’s Adrien Agreste!” He rolled painfully onto his back and stared up at the smoked-over sky, the excitable flash of television cameras burning into his periphery. So the transformation had worn off, then. With his luck, he really should have seen it coming. A “Chat Noir detransforms mid-battle on national television” fic :3

Words: 2374, Chapters: 1, Status: In-Progress, Language: English

  • Fandoms: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
  • Rated: T
  • Genre: Angst/Drama
  • Characters: Adrien A./Cat Noir, Marinette D-C./Ladybug, Plagg, Gabriel A./Hawkmoth
  • Pairings: [Adrien A./Cat Noir, Marinette D-C./Ladybug]

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Ain’t Nobody Gonna Love You Like The Devil Do by Dear_monday [40k]

Frank is a good, God-fearing Catholic boy, and then Gerard happens. Gerard is the most interesting person he’s ever met, arriving in Frank’s small town with late nights and illicit booze and odd, disturbing nightmares trailing in his wake, and before long, Frank finds himself questioning the things he thought he knew.

Okay so I first read this years ago when I was still holding onto the last threads of the Christian faith my parents had thrust upon me, and I like hated it fgfhfdd. BUT WOW, this aged FABULOUSLY for me, lmao. God, the character development… Love that for me <3 Anyway, there are still some things I found a little conflicting, but this is so perfectly blasphemous and very hot. Give it a read!

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That was blood, in her hand. Blood. Her chest had been hurting for days—weeks, even—and now she’s coughing up blood.

Amity had always known she was going to die—she just didn’t expect it to be so… soon.

Not now, not when’s finally feeling things again for so long. Not now. Not now.

“Amity! Get out, we have to get ready too!” Emira bangs on the door, startling her. Blood drips from her palm and into the sink, and Amity took a shaky breath. She can’t let herself cry. Not now. She had been doing that in her room for days, anyway.

“Coming.” She whispers it. She washes off the blood from her hands, her mouth, her nose. It won’t do much, but at least nobody would know that something was wrong. She was too used to suffering on her own, anyway.

Not that anybody would care.


“You’re quiet today.”

Amity swallowed a small smile before looking up from her sitting position. “Thanks for the thoughtful observation, Noceda.”

Luz just grins, with that smile of hers. God, that smile of hers. “Do you wanna go watch Willow do spells outside?”


Whatever it is that she was about to say didn’t make it out of her mouth. There’s something coming up from her stomach and into her throat, sharp and itchy and alive. It’s the same feeling that made her cough up blood, the same feeling that made her chest ache and her throat burns. She doesn’t know what to do, but whatever it is, she couldn’t let Luz see her like this.

Nobody needs to know that she was dying.

“Amity?” Luz calls for her, voice now full of concern, but she sounded so far away. “Are you okay?”

No, Luz. I’m dying. I’m dying. I’m dying and I don’t know why I’m dying and I don’t know what to do. I’m dying, I’m dying I’m dying I’M DYING—

Amity shook her head, trying to keep her hands from shaking. The… thing in her throat kept pushing forward, into her mouth, and she doubled over, resisting the urge to retch. She heard Luz exclaim something beside her, but she didn’t care enough to know what it is—Amity ran off from the class and to the hallway, Luz still calling out her name behind her.

No, no, no. Luz can’t know. Luz can’t know.

Oh, but she does now. She knows that something’s wrong, an unhelpful voice in her head says.

God fucking dammit, Amity. Can’t you at least die without bringing people down with you?

“Amity, wait!”

No, she guesses not.

She kept running, past the door and gates and the students of Hexside who wouldn’t think much of her anyway.

“That girl. She’s so peculiar, isn’t she?”

“The Blight girl? Never knew anything about her. But you know what they say, Blights are always the crazy ones.”

Nobody would’ve cared shit if she died. Might as well come to terms with that, now.

So she kept running, just like she always have her whole life. She was probably going to die running, too—because right now, her vision is starting to blur. The trees around her spins and swells, the ground shakes, and when she looked down to her hands, there were blood.

Crimson red blood, on her mouth and nose, trickling down into her shoes and onto the ground. Something was trying so desperately to get out of her, and Amity doubles over once again, retching and heaving into her palms. Blood on her lips, her wrists, tears squeezing out of her eyes as she lost control of her body.

And then they came out.


At first they were so small that Amity thought she was hallucinating. It could be a leaf that fell into her hands from the trees, but then it flew away—it fucking flew away—she didn’t know what was real anymore. She spat out more blood into the ground, but it was just another butterfly—this time bigger, about the size of her thumb. It struggled to stand against the thick mucus that she spat out, but it found its way to fly away too, somehow. Amity watched the whole thing unfold from her place with wide eyes, trying to perceive what had just happened.

No. This can’t be real. I’m losing my fucking mind.

She felt lightheaded. Nauseous. Not that she only had to die young, she had to die like this, too! Coughing up butterflies that came out of her lungs—what kind of disease is this? A curse? Was she cursed? How fucking amazing.

What a great life you had, Amity Blight.

The whole thing was so funny and ironic to her that she started laughing. More butterflies came out of her mouth—she spat it all out. They started flying away, making a dizzying circle around her. It felt so surreal. Nothing is real anymore.

She was dying.

Fuck. Fuck! Why now? Why now, of all times? Why now when she finally felt happy? Why now, when she’s finally feeling things? When she finally wanted to live? “WHY NOW?” Amity screams it. The butterflies didn’t even flinch one bit—they kept swarming her still, as if they were torturing her, punishing her. Why? What did she do to deserve this?

She buries her face on her knees, fingers pulling on her hair as if it would help with the throbbing on her head.

Fine. If you really want me to die, I’ll die. I’ll die here right now.

That’s fine with me.

She heard a tree branch crack. A few quiet steps, and then the swarming dies down a little bit.

“Hey, you.” A voice says, but Amity didn’t even bother to look up. “What’s going on here?”

The person kneels in front of her, observing her as if she was a dead deer they had just caught. A hand touches her blood-smeared cheek, and that was the last straw—she grabbed the hand and yanked it away from her, trying to get whoever that is to leave—she might be dying, but she isn’t some animal. Can’t people at least treat her with some fucking dignity?

“It’s you.” The person stated when Amity finally looks up. It was and old woman in a ragged red dress—she knew this person. Doesn’t Luz live with her? Her head was too fucked up to even remember.

The woman frowns, swatting the butterflies away, trying to make a connection out of it. A blood-soaked girl in the middle of the forest, with butterflies swarming around her. What could it be? Amity would be surprised if she knew what was going on with her.

And she does—because her expression slowly turns into realization, then horrified.

“Ah, fuck.”


“So… you’re Luz’s friend, right?”

Amity tried to sit still while the old woman washed the blood off her chin. The wet cloth was cold, and comforting—Amity would do anything to have it on her forehead. The old woman seemed to understand, because she wrings the blood off the cloth and dipped it into the ice water, then pressed it against her forehead.

Amity whimpers.


She nods.

They were quiet for a while. Amity tries to stay like that as long as possible, but the cloth was getting warmer from the heat in her skin, and the woman pulls it away. “Lay down,” she orders, dipping the cloth into the bowl again.

“You’re—” Amity tried to talk, surprised by how hoarse her voice was. “What was your name?”

“You’re not going to rat me out, are you?” The woman smirks. “Edalyn. Eda is fine.”

“Eda.” She repeated. “You’re Luz’s…”

“Yeah.” Eda shrugs. She placed the cold cloth on her forehead again, and Amity shut her eyes closed on how good and relieving it felt. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“About… I don’t know.” Amity swallows thickly. “A month ago, I think. I was coughing up blood, all the time. My lungs hurt a lot.”

Eda nods solemnly. “And the butterflies?”

“Just… just today. I think it might’ve happened a few days ago, but they were so small, and I didn’t believe they were actually butterflies.” She tells her. “Wh—why is this… happening to me?”

Eda didn’t answer immediately. She stays still on the other side of the couch, as if trying to relive an old memory. When she finally spoke up again, her hands were shaking. “It’s… complicated, kid.”

Complicated. “Am I dying?”


She knew it. “Is… is there anything you can do?”

Eda nods. “There is, but… like I said, it’s complicated.”

“Tell me.”

The woman took a deep breath. “I… this thing, it’s a curse. Well, not exactly—some says it’s a disease, some says it’s a curse—but the point is the same. It happens to you when you’re desperately in love with someone, but they never return the feelings back to you.”


Amity knows exactly who she was talking about. “And… what about the cure?”

“They’d have to love you back.” Eda says. “It’s as simple as that.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

Amity would rather die than tell Luz about how she felt. Luz wouldn’t fall for her—she’ll never have the same feelings for her. She’d rather cough up blood and butterflies rather than lose her for good—because if she does…

“Isn’t there another way to cure this?” She asks.

“There is,” Eda tells her. “But you wouldn’t like it.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s a spell. To remove your feelings for the person. It would stop the blood and butterflies, but… you’ll never be able to feel anything for them again.”

Fuck. Fuck.  

Amity wanted to break something. She wanted to scream. “There’s no other way?”

Eda held her hand. “I’m sorry.”

This is unfair.

“You have to make a decision, kid. With the amount of butterflies you just coughed up, and how big they were… you don’t have that much time anymore.”

This is fucking insane! She yells in her head. Hands shaking, tears stinging in her eyes. Luz is everything to me. Before she came, I was a shadow in the dark. And she—god, she was like a walking, breathing embodiment of a sun. She just straight up barged into my life and dragged me out of the dark, whether I liked it or not—and finally, for the first time in my life, I was brave enough let someone in. I let her in. And now, what, I have to give up my feelings for her? What kind of fucked up shit is this?

She took a deep, shaky breath. Her hands were still trembling. Think rationally, Amity.

Even if I told her how I felt, she’d never love me back. Not me, the fucked up Amity Blight. And not only that I’m still going to be dying, but I’ll lose her, too.

The choice was clear.

“I—” Amity choked on her words, as if her own body prevents her from speaking. “I want you to do the spell. Please.”

Eda didn’t ask her about her choice—she appreciated that. A second thought would take too long, too tough to make. She couldn’t do it.

Amity watched Eda cast the spell in front of her. She could physically feel the feelings fading away from her chest—the feeling that made her heart beats way too fast whenever the girl talks with her, laughs with her, touches her. Her feelings for Luz and her charming smile, her soft brown hair, her beautiful eyes.


I’m sorry, Luz. She says bitterly to herself. Maybe I’ll be able to love you in another life.

BASED ON : Mauvta’s amazing art on instagram !!

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Ron does not want to commit to Hermione, even after she begs for him to do so. When the Ministry brings out the marriage law, with the freedom of choosing who they want to marry, Hermione chooses to get married to Harry to make Ron believe what he’s missing out on and that she would not stick around forever. Hermione is oblivious of Harry’s feelings for her, and Harry doesn’t know anything about the relationship between Ron and Hermione. Through their marriage, Hermione unknowingly falls in love with Harry, but continues to try and make Ron jealous. One day, Harry finds out about Hermione marrying him only to spite Ron instead of liking him as more than a friend, and confronts her. Ron would also be there when the truth comes out. Ron makes some excuse for not committing to be in a relationship with Hermione and then calls her names (whore and other hurtful stuff). Hermione cries, Harry stands up for her (as always). After Ron leaves, Hermione tells Harry that she fell in love with him during the time they were married. They decide to take a holiday somewhere, away from everyone, where they can figure out their feelings. And the story goes on with how they rekindle their spark, and their married life.

submitted by @avalulume

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