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'Tis my final day of rec-ing: I won't be back after this, I promise.
After two lesser-known fics and one lesser-known video, I thought I'd end with a Classic Who classic for those who are new enough to the fandom not to know that our wise and benevolent moderator also writes stuff. Good stuff. Stuff like this.
Title: What Rassilon Hath Joined Together...
Pairing: Five/Ainley
Warnings: Porn. Seriously. Lots of porn.
Length Lots - 7000?
Author on LJ:
x_los
Author's summary: Utter crack. After Five Doctors, the Doctor fails to escape Responsibility and, to add insult to injury, is presented with a long-outstanding marriage contract.
Why this must be read: So, last rec I said that the Doctor was un-masterable - here he gets forced into matrimony and drugged... Variety is the spice of fandom, as they say. Two age old clichés (aliens made them get married/aliens made them have sex) are explored with humour and scope - there's a long period where the Doctor is himself long enough to realise what's about to happen and it's Five, so he's the antithesis of happy, but he's the only one. The aliens in question are their own people and given that these guys have giant ceremonial robes and a death zone, it makes sense that there should be a ceremony like this (and it's not crack if it makes sense). Finally, my final point, I have never read anything with such a relentless onslaught of sex-scenes. One wasn't enough, two wasn't enough. There are three - and they're all different, emotionally as well as physically.
Declaration of interest: I happen to know there's 30,000w of un-finished plotty sequel sitting on her harddrive. If other people were to start nagging for it, it would ease my burden somewhat.
Excerpt: A priest in robes dripping with metallic embroidery asked the Master, centuries older than the first time he’d wanted this and, he sometimes thought, not terribly much wiser, if he was willing to undertake the responsibility of loving the Doctor completely and exclusively, with all his faults and advantages, until all their names and all their doings were obliterated from the memory of the universe. If he would be kept, captivated, by the Doctor in turn. As if I have a choice, the Master thought bitterly. He snapped out a terse agreement.
You can read it here
After two lesser-known fics and one lesser-known video, I thought I'd end with a Classic Who classic for those who are new enough to the fandom not to know that our wise and benevolent moderator also writes stuff. Good stuff. Stuff like this.
Title: What Rassilon Hath Joined Together...
Pairing: Five/Ainley
Warnings: Porn. Seriously. Lots of porn.
Length Lots - 7000?
Author on LJ:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Author's summary: Utter crack. After Five Doctors, the Doctor fails to escape Responsibility and, to add insult to injury, is presented with a long-outstanding marriage contract.
Why this must be read: So, last rec I said that the Doctor was un-masterable - here he gets forced into matrimony and drugged... Variety is the spice of fandom, as they say. Two age old clichés (aliens made them get married/aliens made them have sex) are explored with humour and scope - there's a long period where the Doctor is himself long enough to realise what's about to happen and it's Five, so he's the antithesis of happy, but he's the only one. The aliens in question are their own people and given that these guys have giant ceremonial robes and a death zone, it makes sense that there should be a ceremony like this (and it's not crack if it makes sense). Finally, my final point, I have never read anything with such a relentless onslaught of sex-scenes. One wasn't enough, two wasn't enough. There are three - and they're all different, emotionally as well as physically.
Declaration of interest: I happen to know there's 30,000w of un-finished plotty sequel sitting on her harddrive. If other people were to start nagging for it, it would ease my burden somewhat.
Excerpt: A priest in robes dripping with metallic embroidery asked the Master, centuries older than the first time he’d wanted this and, he sometimes thought, not terribly much wiser, if he was willing to undertake the responsibility of loving the Doctor completely and exclusively, with all his faults and advantages, until all their names and all their doings were obliterated from the memory of the universe. If he would be kept, captivated, by the Doctor in turn. As if I have a choice, the Master thought bitterly. He snapped out a terse agreement.
You can read it here