NOTIFICATION: CHANGE OF PORTAL

This is a notification that I will be switching my main portal for fanofiction to tumblr.

I originally chose WordPress for this site because of its easy customization and free analyzing software, services that were somewhat unique, and very helpful in telling me when and where any viewers were coming from. But it has become clear to me that this is not a priority.

A center for a community requires the presence of a community, and I feel that I can interact better with fandoms on a site like tumblr.com.

The challenge of building bridges is not aided by appearing to be arrogantly aloof from the community by being on an entirely different platform, or by simply being in a place where few can find you. Perhaps one day, if there is a greater precedent for fanfic recommendation sites, I will have an independent site like this one. But it is simply not practical or reasonable at the moment.

So, for anyone who has seen this site and would like to see more: fanofiction.tumblr.com

See you on the other side.

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Be Your Downfall

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He hates the docile creature that looks at him out of Jim’s dark eyes and accepts everything he tells him so eagerly. But it’s too late to have regrets. The doctors told him that the brain damage is extensive but that the tests show that he will be at least able to form new memories.

It seems James Moriarty killed himself after all.

Fluff: ++

Angst: ++++

Smut: ++

Overall Rating: ++++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3787768

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Endings

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And so, as the siege of Orgrimmar was about to truly begin, the Banshee Queen was cracking a joke at the Lord Regent of Silvermoon. As if no time had passed. As if they were rangers together again. As if her heart still beat beneath her breast. She remembered her fellow Horde leaders making small speeches to encourage the heroes around them, but only one voice stood out from all of them. Sylvanas had already readied her bow, an arrow from her quiver poised and ready to be raised and fired. She had always loved the rush of battle, and the waiting game before each one was always horrendous. She was itchy with anticipation, her anger and frustration peeking through in her tight muscles and narrowed gaze. But then she heard Lor’Themar’s voice, and she was back in Silvermoon, training and laughing together. Her ears all but twitched in his direction as she zeroed in on his words of encouragement to those around them. And with that, her stance relaxed. She turned her head to his direction, her mouth quirked up in a smile.

“If you were to fall in battle,” she called to him, “- I could bring you back. You would make an attractive corpse.” The Banshee Queen could feel herself smiling lightly at her old friend and previous second-in-command. Lor’Themar was gazing at her with his one eye alight with humor -she knew if they had been standing closer together, he’d lean in to whisper ‘dont make me laugh on a battlefield, this is serious’ in her ear as he would attempt to contain his laughter (badly)- and his lips twitched the slightest bit to keep from smiling. She could almost see a light blush of embarrassment on his neck.

Fluff: +++

Angst: +++++

Smut: ++

Overall Rating: +++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1834351

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Empath!Neal Verse

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He keeps his shields up, especially when he’s at work. But he occasionally has to let them down when he’s working, and some of Peter’s feelings slip through.

At first it’s the expected suspicion and wariness. But as time goes on, it shifts to something like grudging respect, then tentative friendship. Their relationship changes too. Neal finds himself bantering with Peter, letting him in more than he has anyone else.

It’s even harder keeping his shields up around Elizabeth. The first time he met her, he didn’t get the expected cold-shoulder for taking her husband away from her, or the suspicion most people who know his history feel about him.

Instead what he got was…acceptance. Pure and simple, despite what he’s done and what he might do. It would seem foolish, since he’s done nothing to earn that faith, but instead he finds himself wanting to live up to it.

He forces himself to stay shielded unless he’s working, despite the increasing craving he feels for Peter and Elizabeth’s emotions. He contents himself with half a loaf, the friendship between him and Peter, and him and Elizabeth. He doesn’t want to risk manipulating their emotions by accident.

He’s never told anyone about his–empathy, he supposes–not even Mozzie. Whenever he finds himself tempted to tell Peter or Elizabeth, he reminds himself how they’re sure to react. Betrayal, suspicion, anger.

Half a loaf.

Fluff: +++

Angst: +++

Smut: ++

Overall Rating: +++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/361664

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Disaster Risk

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TT: I’m sorry.
TT: It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
TT: He wasn’t supposed to turn into fucking Hal 9000 with a Hunter Zolomon complex.
TT: He’s me.
TT: I’m not supposed to cut my friends’ legs out from under them with some bullshit guise of making them better and stronger.
TT: I know I’ve pulled some extreme tests of will before but,
TT: Jesus christ.

In which the AR decides to take things into his own digital hands.

Fluff: +

Angst: +++++

Smut: +

Overall Rating: +++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/490054

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Becoming Less Defined

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For a span of seconds, the man hovering over you is drawn in a disorienting double-image. He’s hyper-real, familiar to a point that is almost grotesque in its intimacy—yet, at the same time, he is completely a stranger. It’s as though you’re looking at something mundane from an unexpected angle; the ordinary made alien.

“Are you hurt?” the mans says, and then immediately, “No, of course you’re hurt, that was a hell of a drop. Okay… okay. You’re standing, so… legs… seem fine…”

There are hands smoothing over your limbs and torso, pressing firm but shaking, and it feels like something long coveted. At first you want to shiver under his touch and it feels like its root is in pleasure, but then there is a deep repulsion working its way out. It drags nebulous concepts with it, an abstract ideal, something about repercussions and moral lapses and forbidden, dangerous things.

The man frowns and hesitantly cups one hand around the back of your neck, and you remember suddenly that it’s Daniel.

In which concussions cause changes and dubious relationships.

Fluff: +

Angst: ++++

Smut: +++

Overall Rating: ++++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/99835

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Working Nine To Five

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“Here’s the plan of attack,” said Steve. “Thor, front and centre, let them focus on you. Tony, flank right, engage anyone who looks like they’re taking too much interest. Bruce and I will execute a pincer movement and retrieve the package.”

“Roger that,” said Bruce. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Really, Bruce? You’re enabling his soldier fantasies, you know that, right? Right now it’s under control, but before you know it he’s going to be waterboarding people and killing babies.”

Steve’s face got its Tony Stark is talking about the army look, but he was a professional (three years in the Reserves), so he just said, “Let’s focus on the mission at hand.”

“Fine,” said Tony, “but I refuse to synchronise watches.”

Donuts and phlint.

Fluff: +++++

Angst: +

Smut: +++

Overall Rating: ++++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/395754

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Escape Plans

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“Absurd! You’re the one who cheated on me! With … with … ”

Tulio narrowed his eyes. “With who?”

Miguel’s eyes lit up – never a good sign. “With him!” He pointed.

Not, alas, at some innocent bystander who might possess the unlikely good sense to run away really fast, thus providing them with the perfect excuse to follow suit, saying adios to their would-be assailants in the process.

“That’s a horse,” Tulio said. “Are you suggesting I … with a horse?”

Fluff: +++++

Angst: ++

Smut: +++

Overall Rating: +++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5454899

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The Mechanics of Coupling Human Oral Cavities

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Castiel steps into what Dean frequently reminds him is Personal Space. He places his hands on Dean’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and then presses his lips against Dean’s.

They are warm. Softer than he expects. The rest of Dean is very tense, but his lips are not. They are, in fact, very nice.

Castiel feels a small pang of sorrow when Dean pulls away. He feels worse when Dean starts laughing at him so hard he doubles over. There may, in fact, be tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

“Jesus, Cas. Just,” Dean’s composure breaks again when he looks Castiel in the face. “I swear, man, I thought you were kidding. Holy shit, you are so not kidding.”

Kissing is apparently beyond him, but Castiel’s grasp on humiliation is suddenly quite expert.

“I should go.”

Dean grabs his sleeve.

Short and slow and sweet and beautifully-written.

Fluff: ++++

Angst: +++

Smut: +++

Overall Rating: ++++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2177442

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Decay

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“Will I see you again?” The native human asked, and Arthur opened his mouth to tell him, no, but found that he simply could not.

“Perhaps.” England said tentatively. “It’ll be hard, today is the day that our whole ship is unloading. In all reality, it’ll be hard for you to find me other again.”

“B-But, you could find me again, right?” the man said, grasping at the thin hope Arthur had given him.

In the background, Arthur could hear Doris Day singing, “You won’t admit you love me, and so, how am I ever, to know, you only answer: perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.”

Arthur looked to him sadly. “Perhaps.”

In which nearly everyone has forgotten Alfred, including himself.

Fluff: ++

Angst: +++

Smut: ++

Overall Rating: +++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3357548

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