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I know most people who read me are not here for Doctor Who content, but I read a fic a couple of days ago that is just so fabulous I'm going to rec it anyway, in case this happens to be among the interests of anyone in the studio audience (I know some of you are multifandom and not just HP):
The Moon Rises Over and Over Again by![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
ohhtheperiphery
Pairing/Characters: Eleven/River, Amy/Rory (plus some input from the TARDIS)
Rating: Mature
Words: 11,549
Author's summary: We are all of us memories, just stories, in the end.
Author's warnings: None
My comment: ...was flaily and inarticulate: "Oh. MY. ASKLJKSLAKJFDS. I just. I don't know what to say. This fic. There was joy and tears and laughter and oh goodness that seems to be one of my hearts on the floor well oh well I've a spare. *more flailing*" This fic has erotic content, hence the mature rating, but it's way more character study than anything else. There's a ton of lovely prose in it. I'm super sad this is the only DW fic this author has on AO3 and I'm not having luck finding more elsewhere. (I assume![[tumblr.com profile]](https://www.tumblr.com/favicon.ico)
ohhtheperiphery is the same person because of the unusual name, but no more DW fic there that I could find.)
Quote:
But if that is so, and she believes it is, in the dark and warm places of herself that could be called her “heart” if such a word were used to describe them, then her Thief is an anomaly. That doesn’t surprise her; she has always known he is special. Because unlike those normal passengers and travelers of time, his hearts don’t become smaller by the process. Worn down, wearied, burdened—perhaps these words and others could be applied. But smaller is so drastically wrong, she feels it, reverberates it in her insides; she echoes it in her wheezing chaotic descent back and forth along the cataclysms of the universe.
No, her Thief’s hearts get bigger and bigger, she can feel it. Can feel them rising up and swelling inside his chest, growing and grown as each day (or something like it) goes by.
The Moon Rises Over and Over Again by
Pairing/Characters: Eleven/River, Amy/Rory (plus some input from the TARDIS)
Rating: Mature
Words: 11,549
Author's summary: We are all of us memories, just stories, in the end.
Author's warnings: None
My comment: ...was flaily and inarticulate: "Oh. MY. ASKLJKSLAKJFDS. I just. I don't know what to say. This fic. There was joy and tears and laughter and oh goodness that seems to be one of my hearts on the floor well oh well I've a spare. *more flailing*" This fic has erotic content, hence the mature rating, but it's way more character study than anything else. There's a ton of lovely prose in it. I'm super sad this is the only DW fic this author has on AO3 and I'm not having luck finding more elsewhere. (I assume
Quote:
But if that is so, and she believes it is, in the dark and warm places of herself that could be called her “heart” if such a word were used to describe them, then her Thief is an anomaly. That doesn’t surprise her; she has always known he is special. Because unlike those normal passengers and travelers of time, his hearts don’t become smaller by the process. Worn down, wearied, burdened—perhaps these words and others could be applied. But smaller is so drastically wrong, she feels it, reverberates it in her insides; she echoes it in her wheezing chaotic descent back and forth along the cataclysms of the universe.
No, her Thief’s hearts get bigger and bigger, she can feel it. Can feel them rising up and swelling inside his chest, growing and grown as each day (or something like it) goes by.