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best_enemiesIt's 2-for-1 day here at RecMart! This is my one allowed genfic rec, with metacrisis!Ten and Eleven.
Pairing: Genfic (Well, little bits of 10/Metacrisis!10 and Eleven/Metacrisis!10 (sort of). Also a bit of Metacrisis!10/Rose, which amounts to Meta!10 going Hell To The No. But if the very hint of 10/Rose sends you screaming out of the room...well, it’s there.)
Length: Short
Warnings: none
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
triedunture
Author Website: N/A
Why this must be read: This is one of the most painful fics I’ve ever read. Every time I read it, it hurts all over again. But it’s a beautiful beautiful pain. I love the pain. I crave the pain. This fic is a serious look at what existence is like for Metacrisis!10, who has the mind of a “doesn’t do domestic” Time Lord but is trapped against his will in a very human life. And it’s not a Happily Ever After. It’s gorgeous but it’s also powerful enough to make me really hate reality and want to throw a couple of computers out of an office window.
John Smith must have employment, for one thing. SENTRY, the alternate dimension UNIT, take him on as a consultant of sorts. John--because he's called John now; can't go running around in a human body expecting your fellow humans to call you the Doctor--takes the job thinking it will be an adventure or, at the very least, a fun life of poking at alien tech and explaining to the numskull SENTRY soldiers what it's supposed to do.
Except there isn't a lifetime of alien tech sitting round the place, and once one or two mysterious items get labeled and stacked on a shelf, John finds himself assigned to a desk. With a stapler. And a hole-punch. And e-mail.
His brain contains the memories of a life of a thousand years; he can remember what the end of the universe will look like; he knows the secrets of space and time as intimately as a lover. And somehow, John Smith finds himself standing in front of a fax machine on a Monday morning, jittery from coffee and on the verge of tears because, bloody hell, why won't the bloody machine work already?
When You Left Me Here, You Left Me Here To Die
Pairing: Genfic (Well, little bits of 10/Metacrisis!10 and Eleven/Metacrisis!10 (sort of). Also a bit of Metacrisis!10/Rose, which amounts to Meta!10 going Hell To The No. But if the very hint of 10/Rose sends you screaming out of the room...well, it’s there.)
Length: Short
Warnings: none
Author on LJ:
trieduntureAuthor Website: N/A
Why this must be read: This is one of the most painful fics I’ve ever read. Every time I read it, it hurts all over again. But it’s a beautiful beautiful pain. I love the pain. I crave the pain. This fic is a serious look at what existence is like for Metacrisis!10, who has the mind of a “doesn’t do domestic” Time Lord but is trapped against his will in a very human life. And it’s not a Happily Ever After. It’s gorgeous but it’s also powerful enough to make me really hate reality and want to throw a couple of computers out of an office window.
John Smith must have employment, for one thing. SENTRY, the alternate dimension UNIT, take him on as a consultant of sorts. John--because he's called John now; can't go running around in a human body expecting your fellow humans to call you the Doctor--takes the job thinking it will be an adventure or, at the very least, a fun life of poking at alien tech and explaining to the numskull SENTRY soldiers what it's supposed to do.
Except there isn't a lifetime of alien tech sitting round the place, and once one or two mysterious items get labeled and stacked on a shelf, John finds himself assigned to a desk. With a stapler. And a hole-punch. And e-mail.
His brain contains the memories of a life of a thousand years; he can remember what the end of the universe will look like; he knows the secrets of space and time as intimately as a lover. And somehow, John Smith finds himself standing in front of a fax machine on a Monday morning, jittery from coffee and on the verge of tears because, bloody hell, why won't the bloody machine work already?
When You Left Me Here, You Left Me Here To Die
