#Simm!Master/Reader

[buggyboba]

I'm working on requests, but I also had a fun little idea about the master and the doctor having a joint custody companion, who has to bring their youngish sibling along, the first time the kid says 'rizz or skibidi' both time lords are just lost.

"Did your tiny ape just slur at me?" -the master.

"What is a rizzler...what is a gyatt?" -the doctor.

Anyway, moral of the post time lords babysitting...?

[lanawinterscigarettes]

You, flirting with The Master/Missy as a distraction: So, is there, like, anyone else in the picture, or...?

The Doctor, whispering furiously from where they'd been trying to sneak past: What the hell are you doing? You're supposed the be distracting them, not flirting with them!

You, whispering back, making no attempt to hide your annoyance: Can't I do both?!

[simp-for-the-masters]

i want the master to call me a good boy so bad :((

Delgado!Master: calls you good boy after you complete a task for him

Ainley!Master: calls you a good boy when you help lead someone into a trap for him

Simm!Master: calls you good boy cause it's fun to see you flustered,it's his newest pastime

Missy: calls you good boy with a head pat and kiss on the cheek, both condescending and genuine

Dhawan!Master: calls you good boy with the growl of his

[bloody-cupcakes]

Okay but imagine a yandere Master/Missy (or even a yandere Doctor). Imagine them defying all laws of time and space to be with their "one true love", someone who doesn't even know they exist

Imagine how terrifying it would be to find out that not only has this person been obsessed with you and has stalking you for months, but they're a literal Timelord. So that means no matter where you go, or what you do, or how far you try to run, they will always find you in the end. Even if you die or escape, they will without a doubt somehow manage to bring you back, just because they love you so much

Bonus points if this crosses over into regenerations, meaning even if you do manage to get away from them there really is nobody who you can trust, because you never know when they're going to come back with a new form

[hauntingcryptids]

Pumpkin Dreams

Simm!Master x Reader

Summary - The Reader begs for some Autumnal decorations, but The Master is not a fan of The Reader’s plans.

Prompt(s) Used - Pumpkin Patch - A fic involving pumpkins, a pumpkin patch, pumpkin carving or Jack ‘o’ Lanterns and Ghoul - A fic involving decorating for Halloween or Halloween decorations

Warnings - None That I Know Of. If I missed something, then message me and I will add it here.

Word Count - 3082

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. No use of Y/n. Not Requested. Proofread but not beta read. I hope that you enjoy! :)

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The Master held a thousand years long (or however old he was) reputation for being cruel, demanding and authoritarian. His desired image was on full display in the title he gave himself alone, his multiple plans for universal takeover only proved a point. He always had to have his way; if people did not immediately listen, he would take what he wanted. He didn’t care who he hurt, who he killed, or how he left in the ashes of his destruction. Despite his carefully curated image, this longstanding reputation of The Master’s wasn’t always in line with his emotional needs. 

The Master could be kind, soft, and reasonable if in a safe environment with people he felt comfortable with. He showed you this softer side countless times and you knew he would show you his more raw, personal emotions again many times more in the future. The Master was kinder to you than anyone you had in your life previously. He would always rebuke your comparative praise by stating that the bar for Humans was in hell (a phrase he only used because you used it). 

He adored your praise of him, though, because The Doctor believed The Master to be incapable of any kind of thought and he loved proving the idiocy of his previous friend. But The Master did hate being compared to Humans and for anyone other than The Doctor to know this other side of his personality. The Master couldn’t help but hate you at first when you would occasionally run into him when he was pretending to be Human. After The Doctor ruined his plans again, The Master did take a chance on you. He hoped to manipulate you, though you ended up charming your way into the old Timelord’s hearts. He abandoned all of his plans to corrupt you (except for a little teasing) and strove to prove himself worthy of your kindness.

Since moving into The Master’s TARDIS, you became acutely aware of the divots and dividends stowed away and hidden behind many facades and trick mirrors in your alien companion’s personality. Despite the fruitfulness of his personality that he hid well, The Master still had to be convinced of very many things, especially the things that he did not think up himself. He was a proud being, inside and out. After much trial and error, you did learn how to craft manipulations of your own. By begging (prettily, as he described) or convincing The Master that he came up with an idea before you did, then you usually could end up getting want you wanted within the week. Your quickest attempt took 13 Earth days, which given how stubborn The Master could be at times, you took as a win. All you could do was hope that you wouldn’t have to fully manipulate your way into getting what you wanted this time. In your opinion, you had just a small request. At most, it would only take a small amount of begging, surely.

You bounced into the console room with a light step. This wasn’t the first time you attempted to convince The Master of something very Human in nature and you expected that it wouldn’t be the last. The Master had also been in a jovial mood recently, having plundered multiple pirates, squashed many rebellions on planets that he (previously to you joining him) ruled, and solved many childhood treasure hunts ‘in all time and space’ that the old scholars of Gallifrey placed on their students, expecting that they would never be solved. His cheerful nature resulted in less worry for you compared to some of the previous attempts where you ambushed The Master with questions on one of his bad days. But for the completion of your plan and The Master’s emotions, you did try to make yourself seem more carefree and unbothered. Based on previous attempts, you know that if you were too passionate or persistent there was the very probable chance that The Master would deny your request out of spite, which was contrary to the outcome that you wished to receive.

The Master didn’t look up from the console screen he was monitoring as you rounded the ship’s terminal. You had become used to the fact that he was usually aware of your presence, even though he wouldn’t interact with you first. So, you stood behind the alien and watched the screen he studied, unable to understand the potential seriousness of what your host was looking at. Tentatively, you placed your chin on The Master’s shoulder, allowing him the opportunity to initiate the conversation when he was ready.

“What do you want, Human?”

“What makes you think that I want anything?” The Master didn’t respond, he didn’t need to. All he did was turn his face in your direction with a blank stare and a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, I do want to ask you something.”

“What is it this time?” You huffed, slightly affronted that he would think you to be so superficial. But your reaction only caused The Master to chuckle. You paused for a moment before asking your question in an attempt to regain your composure in the presence of a nearly all powerful alien. 

“Can we get some pumpkins?” You asked the alien hopefully, bouncing on the soles of your feet absentmindedly. 

“Why?” The Master dragged out the word, which gave you hope. When The Master drew out all the syllables of a short (typically one-word) question, it usually meant that he was legitimately questioning your desires. If he were to answer with a curt “why” or a fully articulate question, however, you learned that those options were basically a “no” as far as the alien was concerned.

“It’s Autumn. Halloween is coming up soon. They are nice decorations.” 

“No.” The Master spoke coldly. You couldn’t help but be shocked. You thought that you did everything correctly, or as well as you could given The Master’s sometimes (often) temporental tastes. 

“What? Why?” You pulled back from The Master’s shoulder and tried to look him in the eye, but he wouldn’t face you. 

“They go off. I don’t want mouldy squash in my ship.” The Master’s tone was reasonable, at least, as he moved around The TARDIS console to press more buttons.

“I will compost them or throw them away before they get like that.” You tried to your best to plead with The Master, but for some reason, you weren’t doing your best. 

“And if one gets lost in this labyrinth of a ship?” The Master’s head shot up to look you in the eye, and then he froze, waiting for your answer. His hazel eyes were piercing. 

“I won’t lose any of them.” You tried to sound convincing, but The Master’s faux sympathetic grin told you that you had not convinced the alien.

“My answer is still no.”

“Please. I’m not asking for 13-foot-tall skeletons or glitter garlands.” The Master couldn’t help but make a face at the thought of the presence of glitter in his TARDIS.

“It’s just a handful of pumpkins, Master.” Your alien host turned to face you again, this time with a triumphant smirk on his face. You hated that you knew that you lost this time.

“You need to work on your begging, Human.” You groaned, petulantly and stormed off back to your room for the day.

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Many days passed with many stops periodically throughout time and space. Some were casual pitstops, others were more serious, but The Master hoped that the more places he took you, then the less focused you would be on your request to decorate his TARDIS. Every time he thought that you had forgotten your want or moved on from your pumpkin idea, you would not so subtly indicate that you still wanted to decorate The Master’s TARDIS with pumpkins. It didn’t help that his ship was conspiring against him and took you and The Master to many planets with pumpkin-like plants blooming and growing throughout.

During one outing, you had almost snuck a small gourd (or what you would call a gourd) onto The TARDIS through your bigger on the inside coat pocket. But The Master saw your sleight of hand and was aware of the item you stole from the planet. You weren’t aware of The Master’s knowledge, but the alien’s eyes had rarely left your frame as of late. He was always watching you. He wasn’t trying to be creepy (which he probably would been on Earth), he just loved watching you in non-Human environments. 

That was his excuse, though; The Master’s TARDIS, maturely, described The Master’s feelings as love. He loved your little quirks and the idiosyncrasies that made you you. Yes, you were Human, but if The Doctor used Humans as temporary comfort, then why couldn’t The Master find a constant companion in a Human? It was unlikely that you would ever be able to deceive The Master ever again because The Maser knew you; you consumed every fibre of his mind and soul. The TARDIS, self-satisfied in their accomplishment, knew that there was no turning back now. They helped you and The Master fully realise your feelings for each other.

The Master, upon the two of you arriving at the door of his ship, pulled you by your arm out of The TARDIS doorway before your foot could fall on the ship’s metallic floor. He held his other hand flat outward toward you as he stared down at you unblinking. You couldn’t help but pout; you assumed that you had gotten away with your theft. You sighed as you placed the alien gourd onto his palm.

“Nice try, Human.” The Master smirked, releasing your arm and allowing you to enter his ship. He then tossed the gourd over his shoulder before nonchalantly entering his ship. The Master then piloted the two of you away from the planet you had visited, while telepathically scolding his TARDIS for trying to aid you Humanly sympathetic. 

“I’m going to bed.” You spoke. Your voice sounded sad; The Master noted. He hated when you sounded sad, especially when he was the main cause of your depleted emotions.

“Fine. Dream your sweet pumpkin dreams, Human.” The Master tried to joke. It was evident that the alien failed to make you laugh, though, much to his disappointment.

“I really hate you sometimes.”

“No, you don’t.” The Master did feel your legitimately strong negative feelings toward him, but he chose to not dwell on the fact that he upset you for too long. Instead, he focused on attempting to form a plan to make you happier. He genuinely wanted to make you happy. If you temporarily felt defeated, he could handle your bad temper because he knew that he had so much more planned for you.

You stuck out your tongue petulantly. The Master responded with the same gesture before smirking again and wishing you a proper goodnight.

The Master hated seeing you unhappy. Normally, with others, The Master would keep refusing a person who wanted something badly enough to repeatedly ask, just to upset them more. With you, though, this routine was getting boring. A couple of denials were fine, it offered suspense, but he never wanted to treat you like just any other person. You were special.

Now The Master would have to plan something that would surprise you, something that would make up for his bad attitude. But he didn’t want pumpkins, squash, or gourds, Human or otherwise, on his ship except for the kitchen. He wasn’t even fond of having houseplants on his ship: which reminded The Master of something.

The Master recalled when he first invited you to stay with him on The TARDIS. However, upon hearing you say something, he almost told you to stay at your Earthly apartment last minute. You had surprised him by exclaiming that you needed to retrieve your bonsai tree. You had run off to retrieve the bonsai tree before The Master could stop you, having been weighed down by your many travelling bags. You surprised the alien again, though, when you arrived by his side with a Lego bonsai tree, not a real one, in your hands. The Master only sighed at the time, allowing the plastic tree into his ship without notifying you of his initial complaint.

That previous instance caused a ball to roll in his mind. You never directly said that you wanted real pumpkins. There had to be alternatives that wouldn’t decay and stink up his ship that would also make your wish reality. So The Master set to work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up despondently. Why did The Master have to be so fickle? You understood that The TARDIS was his ship, and he could allow or not allow whatever he wanted. But you didn’t understand why you couldn’t add some personal touches outside of your room. You weren’t even asking for decorative changes all the time, just around certain holidays that you liked to celebrate. If you were on Earth, and The Master was staying with you in your flat, you knew that you would allow him to add his own flair to communal areas. Did you just care about him more than he cared about you? Or was this just a simple miscommunication? No matter what was going on between the two of you, you were still upset with the alien.

You rolled out of your bed, yawned, stretched, and then rubbed the granules of sleep out of your eyes as you stumbled toward your private kitchen. You moved around the space on autopilot, unaware of the new decorations that appeared in your space overnight. You weren’t ripped out of your oblivious state until The TARDIS beeped frantically. 

You held a large mug in one hand, about to pour in your favourite hot, caffeinated beverage when she halted your actions. You questioned her, and she beeped again. She sounded astonished. You looked down into your mug and to your surprise you saw a small felt pumpkin. You placed everything in your hands onto your kitchen counter and plucked the pumpkin out of the mug. It was a cartoonish orange with delicate felt leaves attached to a dark green stub of a stem. The little item was so cute that you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. Finally, you looked around and saw that your room had been decorated with a variety of fake pumpkins. You understood why The TARDIS was so shocked. You walked all the way to your kitchen without noticing any changes whatsoever.

You excitedly ran out of your room, still holding the first pumpkin, and grew even more exuberant the more that you saw. In your sleep, The Master fully decorated his TARDIS with creative pumpkins. There were fake pumpkins of every colour, cloth jack-o-lanterns, and pumpkins decorated with famous artworks and interesting Halloween-themed designs. There were even pumpkin garlands hanging throughout the halls and on the walls. None of them were real pumpkins, there was no worry of them going bad. The Master even made sure that there wasn’t a hint of glitter on any of the decorations. 

You then began to search for The Master. You wanted to thank him for everything he did and all of the work he put into this. Eventually, you found him lounging in the library. He was reading on a sofa with his back facing yours, the stem of a pumpkin pillow only slightly visible over the back of the sofa. You ran up to The Master, as quietly as you could, and threw your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Don’t mention it.” You hummed, disappointed, as you removed yourself from The Master. You were hoping for a different, more reciprocating, response. Maybe you weren’t as expressive and grateful as you could be. You wished that there was a way for you to meaningfully thank him. You squeezed The Master’s shoulders before rounding the sofa to sit across from the alien. The Master didn’t look up from his book. You looked away from the strange person before you, instead inspecting the decorations in the library from your seat. You smiled again at the decorations. Not because of the decorations themselves, but because The Master did all of this for you. 

“It looks really nice.” 

“It pains me to admit it, but yes, it’s nice.” The Master was staring at you when he spoke. He was watching you as soon as you looked away. He didn’t care about the pumpkins. They were a nice addition, for a short period of time, but he couldn’t care less if they were there or not. He was just happy that you were happy. You were still observing the new additions to your environment, but if you were looking at The Master you might have seen his mask slip. You might have seen his true feelings for you, if only for a second. If only you were looking at him.

“Maybe you should keep them even after the passing of the season?” You asked hopefully. 

“Just because you got your pumpkins, that doesn’t mean you are going to get everything you want around here, Human.”

“I’m not trying to get my way -” You turned to face The Master in an attempt to defend yourself.

“Sure you aren’t.”

“It just looks nice. It fits this space. And they won’t go off, so you don’t have to worry about mould.”

“No. I’m a renegade Time Lord, not a comic book villain.” The Master said coldly as he gracefully stood from the sofa to retrieve another book.

“Just one?” The Master sighed lightheartedly at your persistence. Is this how other people felt around him when he was dead set on something? 

“Your room is your room. Do what you want with it.” You congratulated yourself on the new victory, unaware that The Master could see you out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but smile but he quickly covered it up with a smirk. He didn’t know how to directly tell you his feelings, he didn’t feel confident enough in his ability to communicate how he felt. At least The Master could still flirt in his own way, though; by teasing you and riling you up and surprising you with gifts.

“But I won’t make any promises to not throw all these pumpkins into a supernova as soon as the first of December occurs in your year on Earth.” 

“Master!”

[dreamsinmoonlight]

From Eden

(This. Would. Not. Go. Away. I had this pop up in my head while on a bus and then it kept bugging me until I wrote it so here it is.

It is a very weird fanfic I feel but it's for us Master fans and we're weird and they're weird so makes sense. It is not for one Master in particular; it is for the seven most notable ones, as noted in the notes. I apologize if you wanted more of one particular Master, I do want to make proper ones later but this needed to be the whole group of them.

This whole thing is set to "From Eden" by Hoizer, specifically the Mahogany Session version; I recommend listening to that song while reading this

Fandom: Doctor Who

Characters: The Master (Delgado, Crispy, Ainley, Jacobi/War, Simm, Missy, Dhawan), Reader (Time Lord)

Pairing: Master x Reader

Genre: Romance

Summary: It's a dance, through time, through space, through victories and through defeats. There is so few constants in the universe but you are his.)

It started at one.

He smiled at you in that charming, hypnotic way of his and you felt as if you could trust him to the ends of the universe. You knew deep in your bones that you would and as he offered his hand to you, you took it without a second of hesitation. Those burning eyes of his were upon you and only you; the music played around you and the Tardis hummed along but he seemed only interested in you.

You were his companion, the one and only. There were many for that other bleeding heart, the one who stood against him, the one who kept getting in the way, but you were a singular point and impossible to imitate, if your favorite danger was to be believed. You'd met him more than once, both monster and savior, and you found the man with the suave way of trying to bring upon domination far more interesting.

His smile, his voice, the way he held your hands in his as he danced with you, feeling his touch despite his gloves; his movements were playful but in every step graceful and calculated. There was control to it, to everything he did, and you could not help but trust him to take control, to be in command. Though you knew that the end result could only be trouble. At least you'd face it together.

It went to two.

He was broken, burnt, hurting. And there was a desperation that oozed from each and every pore of a dying body. Regeneration, revenge, survival, destruction, you understood and you followed along still.

But even death had time for a dance. His movements were far more sluggish and stiff, a body that could not move as well, as fast, as easily. But you saw still in his eyes the soul of the man you loved, the spirit of one who could not, would not, be held back by anything, not by imprisonment, not by defeat and surely not by something by as silly and unimportant as death.

The world around you was silent and hurting but you knew all the best ways to make music nevertheless. Though neither of you truly needed it when you were the ones doing it; his body might not be willing to do much but you didn't for a second doubt that he could handle any of this. There was nothing that a monster in the dark couldn't do if he truly tried, if he believed, if he persevered. And this monster certainly would continue on. A new life was not so far away you were sure and though some part of you felt sorry for the one who would be losing out, you really only cared as long as it meant that he would be able to smile and be who he always had been before.

The third lasted.

There was something wild in his eyes and you were uncertain whether to blame the planet you both barely survived escaping. There had always been something in his eyes, an edge of madness, a portion of danger that made your hearts beat all the faster because how you could not be allured by the subtleness in his smile.

But feral was never something you attributed to him before and it made this dance all the stranger and exciting. His hands held you like vices, he pulled you close and in that smile were sharp fangs ready to tear flesh and eat you alive. Yet not a drop of fear beat through your body and you held onto him as he led the dangerous movements of this dance, still controlled and elegant in some far more aggressive way.

He may never be the same, you thought to yourself as you noted the gold to his eyes, and he would never be himself again. He'd been changed in dangerous ways and it was a question not a guarantee that regeneration was coming if he faced it.

But death was ever just a small thing and temporary to him. In those bones that knew that you'd always trusted him, too was the knowledge that it didn't much better to you what changes came.

You smiled and followed him through every step of the dance, holding ever tight to him without fear.

Four came with tragedy.

The universe was burning and it wasn't his fault. The universe was dying and he wasn't the cause. These were strange things to think, to feel, and pain and fear finally found it's way not just into you but into him as well. And it colored those eyes in ways you never imagined.

This could be your last dance together and you both knew it so you were going to make it a good one. The song was the same as it had been at every other junction but it burned into your skin as he held you with a desperation that made you hurt so much.

None of this was your fault; if anyone it was theirs, those monsters who called him a monster, those beasts of stagnation that saw the universe as their toys and as worthless all at the same time. It was that bleeding heart who couldn't bring himself to do what was necessary even if it saved them a lot of heartache.

And now you'd lose your favorite and he'd lose you. But not a word of this passed either lips, held back by the taboo of weakness but you needed no audible words, not when you knew each other as well as you did.

He tried for elegance, as he had done for countless lives, but the wish not to let this actually end turned a waltz into something endless. Every time it could come to the last second he winced and forced the song to start again and you resisted the urge to rest your head against his chest. Because you already could hear his hearts breaking perfectly fine as you were, knowing this couldn't go on. It would end.

It revived in five.

An eternity came and went, in it's wake pain and loss. But fate couldn't keep you apart and you remembered the way the strange desperation in his eyes turned to relief as he forced his way into the hideway on the edge of nowhere you'd locked yourself away in. And though you had not recognized him at first, the way he pressed the pocket watch into your hands and made you open it, the way you felt everything you were meant to be return and the way you immediately realized who he was, who he had always been and always be.

Your mad feral monster and when you spoke his name he smiled with everything he had before doing as you always did, always would. He scooped you up and danced with you, he laughed and told you of what you missed, of the bleeding hearts' acts and his own and what chaos and death and suffering he had wrought. Of the pretty blonde woman he had seduced but oh, never fret, never fear, though he'd truly felt something deep in those broken hearts of his, you were still the one and only true companion to the monster. Proven right by betrayal, by pain and suffering, and he'd nearly burnt himself to death again but he'd won and he'd stolen what he needed from those who hurt him, had always hurt him. And then he came for you. Because you, you were the one good constant in his chaotic vicious cruel existence, and he wanted nothing more than to have you dancing with him once more, loving him despite every act he wrought upon the universe. And this made you feel so loved you forgot about eternity.

Six changed the dance.

She was beautiful, like a rose covered in thorns, like a drop of honey full of poison, like death itself. She smiled and she laughed and she danced about, the skirts of her dress twirling as she did so, her hair a controlled mess upon her head, her eyes glittering with the essence of true madness. And you wanted so bad to press your lips to hers because how could you, the monster's companion, ever, ever resist such a beautiful sight.

Her hand reached out to take yours and you held tight, drawing close and smiling warm as the sun to her ad you joined her. The world was in a tizzy, it always was though whenever she choose to make herself known, and the bleeding hearts would find his way there in no time but there was always time enough for a dance. You two had learned that so long ago that it was less a thought as it was an existence.

Yet something in your hearts told you that things were different, because she didn't seem as keen on the destruction as she was on seeing that troublemaker who always got in her way. Because there was a gentleness you couldn't explain or expect but who were you to ever deny your beloved monster the shards of goodness still left embedded in hearts broken over and over more?

Seven.....Seven....

She died. He woke up. And it seemed like everything had returned to the norm. But there was a childishness and playfulness and giddiness that you knew meant only trouble for the rest of the universe. The bleeding hearts had proven not enough, or maybe the monster had been lacking, but you were biased and you knew this to your core.

He took you by the hand and the song continued to be the same as it had been when he'd been elegant and when he'd been broken.

When he'd been feral and when he'd been afraid.

When he found you again and when she had been almost good.

And in this dance you found all of them, mixed and swirling, and in every way him and every way not. His eyes still burned but they burned in ways different than ever before; he laughed and it was cracks and edges. He schemed and he hoped and he acted and he hurt and killed and destroyed and this time it was his fault, every step of the way. He was the same, he was different, he was himself, he was not.

But still you smiled back at him and you reflected back all the ways you'd changed too, every day you'd spent with him, every time you'd found each other, lost each other, fought the bleeding hearts and every other force against you. And every time you danced.

Still you found, as the music continued, as he held you close, as he smiled and he whispered all his plans, as he tickled your ear with his voice, that one thing had not changed:

You still trusted him to the ends of the universe.

[valentinetypewriter]

Smut headcanons of Krillitane Y/n with different versions of The Master

This can be read separately but it is attached to my Master x Krillitane reader Series

Saxon Master

He matches your freak. You try taking a bite out of him and he'd bite back and would definitely draw blood

He lives for the dangerous rush of sleeping with a Krillitane

A constant power struggle between you two

He would most likely get turned on watching you kill something, even if it's just for food

Is definitely a sado-masochist, maybe that's why he likes Krillitane Y/n so much

Silver simm/season 10

Much more tame then his younger self, though he still likes to bite

He's more into you being submissive then the constant power struggle he used to enjoy

let's face it he's much more intimidating looking than before, and he would definitely use that against you

He would so be into him and Missy going to town on you, making you an absolute mess

He would so flaunt that his girlfriend is a monster that could easily kill (he also gets off to it)

Missy

Missy is much more tame with Krillitane Y/n She a lot less sadistic/masochistic then Simm Master

Now she's more into taming then fighting

100% would call you her pet (might even buy a collar and leash)

She would dress you up and do your Makeup, (would definitely make a joke about being her cute little show dog)

She loves the idea that she's tamed a terrifying monster who help slaughter her own people

She would take you to different planets for you to “window shop” the different species

Dhawan Master

He's a feral bastard

He loves biting, scratching, choking, hair pulling. You name it

He makes sure you know he owns you

Loves marking you up, he wants everyone to know you're his

If anyone ever walked in on you two doing it, they might just think he's trying to kill you

He would go feral if Krillitane y/n had some kind of non-human part, if it's horns, a tail or even an extra eye, he'd eat it up Gets off on the idea that you could possibly kill him

[plethora-of-imagines]

If you and the Master (can be whoever you want) are running from the police on an alien planet where the only punishment is death, and Master has no time to think of a suitable escape plan. reader thinks for the two of you who have to divert suspicion from you two and pulls the master to a corner and kisses him. (sorry if your requests are closed you can disregard it, thank you)

“If we die because-”

Your words were cut off by the Master yanking you into a hidden corner. The whiplash leaving you momentarily breathless. 

“Yes, yes, if we die because I didn’t bother to be sneaky you’ll be very upset.”

Scowling at the dismissive tone, you pushed past him to peek around the corner. They were still chasing after you, they were sure to have seen which corner you both turned.

“So what’s the plan?”

The silence was deafening. 

“Master.” Trying to hide your fear and desperation, your words were short. “What. Is. The. Plan.”

He grimaced. Shit.

“Working on that pet.”

“Working on it!” You whisper yelled as the heavy footfalls pulled closer.

Mind racing you tried to think of anything that you could use to help you. Any little fact about the species, or legal workings that could save you. Death penalty for everything, trials held after the death to award retributions to the family if there was a wrongful death, excellent far distance vision, faceblind to an extent if the person was not fully visible which is why they had such colorful clothes. Very dedicated to both security and reproduction efforts.

Wait! That’s it! 

Just as the men turned the corner it was your turn to yank the Master. Crashing your lips together violently. Grinding against him as you felt the men pause to look at your passionate display. The hands that the Master had thrown up uselessly slowly reaching to tightly grip onto you.

The fear- and lack of air from the kiss- had your head spinning.

“-chcks. Let us leave the lovers alone. Our criminals must have gone another way in respect.”

Only once they were gone did you pull away with an unintentionally cartoon kiss sound.

“What-”

“That meant nothing!” You rushed to state.

Turning to walk away, back to the TARDIS.

(308 words)

[multifandomfix]

Trick or treat! Older SimmMaster and "bite"

“Don’t be scared, love. I don’t bite.” A devilish smirk crossed his face. “Unless you ask nicely.”

You still trembled. Partly with fear and part…well you needn’t think of that right now. “I’m looking for a man called The Doctor. Seen him?”

You shook your head. “Shame. Guess I’ll have to take you with me then. See if anything jogs that memory. If not, The Doctor will come running anyway when he hears I have a hostage.”

What had you gotten yourself into?

If you’d like to participate in my trick or treat event, please send a character + a word to my inbox and say trick or treat!

[buggyboba]

I'm gonna get The Master pregnant 🔫 this is a threat.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

I see the post about the Master(s) caring for a sick reader and raise you: reader having to care for sick Master(s)

if you think they're a lot to handle before just wait until they have the timelord equivalent of the flu kicking their ass

The reader taking care of the Masters when they're sick

Characters included: Simm, Missy/Gomez, and Dhawan

Warnings: being sick (obviously), pretty sure that's it

Simm! Master

He's not sick, he can't be sick. He's a Timelord, and Timelords don't get sick

That's what he insisted to you over and over again, but it was a bit hard to take him seriously with how nasally and congested he sounded

At first he wants you to leave him alone (because he's not sick, thank you very much) but once it becomes clear whatever he's got isn't going away anytime soon he very begrudingly allows you to care for him

Acts like he wants to be left alone but then whines very loudly if you're gone for too long, so you're basically stuck watching him the entire time

He has terrible manners in general, which are made even worse when he doesn't feel good, so don't expect him to say please or thank you unless you press him for it

Complains about something every two minutes without fail. He's cold, so you get him a blanket. Then he throws it off because he's hot. Then he gets cold again and needs you to tuck him back in

Eventually you get tired of listening to him whine so you put on The Teletubbies in hopes that'll distract him long enough for you to sneak away and get some peace and quiet. When you return a half hour later, he's passed out in bed, sleeping peacefully while the TV continues to play in the background

Missy/Gomez! Master

She would also refuse to believe that she's sick at first, but it takes her much quicker to cave and accept your treatment

Wants to be pampered and treated like the sophisticated Timelady that she is, meaning she fully expects to be waited on hand and foot for the entirety of her illness

Such a drama queen, honestly. You so much as suggest she blow her own nose and she goes on this long rant about how she can't believe you're making her do something while she's sick, and she's much too weak and helpless to care for herself, and don't you love her?

If it works it's only because you want her to shut up (despite how nice her voice sounds, I imagine it must get to be quite tiring to hear her do nothing but whine)

After awhile she gets bored of laying around and doing nothing (despite you being there to take care of her) so she tries to sneak off and cause some trouble, hoping you won't notice

Unfortunately for her, you'd gotten used to hearing her call out your name every couple of minutes and soon grow suspicious when she doesn't. She doesn't make it far before you catch her and usher her back to bed with a firm scolding

Dhawan! Master

Oh boy. Out of the three of them, he is the whiniest, clingiest, and biggest baby yet

As soon as he wakes up and can tell he doesn't feel good, he immediately calls out for you. It could be as minor as a sore throat or the sniffles and he'll act like he's dying

At first he tries to act just as intimidating as he usually is but it doesn't work because a) you don't find him that intimidating in the first place and b) even if you did he's definitely not when he's wrapped up in multiple blankets and cuddling with a stuffed animal

Speaking of which he begs you to cuddle with him, even if it's likely that you'll catch what he has. Honestly, the two of you usually get sick back to back because of how clingy he is: if one of you has something, the other is bound to catch it at some point

He doesn't want to have his every whim catered to in an arrogant way, he's just so pathetic and pitiful when he asks for something that you can't help for feel sorry for him and find it near impossible to say no

Needs to be near you the entire time he's sick. If you disappear even for a second he begins to practically whimper with displeasure, like a small puppy who's been abandoned

End notes: I hope you liked it anon 💗

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Doctor Who masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @theonetruepotato87 @sessa23 @super-just-because

[simp-for-the-masters]

Imagine the Master’s companion dying and him finally understanding how the Doctor feels .

man

He would not do well. 😬

[wincheskka]

Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming "But Daddy (Doctor) I love him!" I'm having his baby No, I'm not, but you should see your faces I'm telling him to floor it through the fences No, I'm not coming to my senses I know he's crazy but he's the one I want

But Daddy I Love Him - Taylor Swift

[wittyandobsessed]

𝐀𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✓ May I request a Doctor Who story? The Master x idc what gender reader. (I honestly don't care which Master either xD, but if you need a specification, maybe Dhawan!Master?) My main idea is just the reader calling the Master cute. (Have you looked at them?! They're adorable!) So maybe the Master has just finished a plan of his (something evil. I like it when they're evil), and is just very happy. And the reader just can't hold it back anymore and just bursts forth with "You are SO adorable!" Or something like that 😅 I hope you like the idea and that it was specific enough 😂😅

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | The Master x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Sorry, but since I haven’t seen the seasons with the 13th Doctor, I’m not familiar with Dhawan’s Master. So I wrote it with Simm’s Master instead. I hope that’s okay with you!

▸ Masterlist

𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱! 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿!

The ground still shook with the aftershocks of what he had done.

Cracks split the concrete streets of Voltraxis Prime, smoke curled upward like dark fingers reaching toward the blood-orange sky, and in the center of it all, stood him. The Master. Hair wind-tossed, suit immaculate despite the chaos, and eyes glowing with a wild kind of triumph that sent chills skittering down your spine.

He was laughing. Loudly. Gleefully. The kind of laugh that echoed off the scorched buildings and made the surviving inhabitants tremble beneath whatever ruins they still crouched behind.

The planet had fallen. Not in days, not in hours—minutes. All according to his plan, every step of it unfolding like a perfectly choreographed dance of destruction. He had tricked the Doctor (again), rewired the planetary defense grid to self-implode, and taken control of the ruling council through a mix of persuasion, threats, and—because he couldn’t resist it—just a dash of theatrical flair.

And now, he was celebrating.

He paced back and forth across the broken remains of the plaza, coat flaring with each dramatic turn, arms gesturing in sweeping arcs as if conducting a mad symphony only he could hear. His voice rang out, thick with pride, rich with that electric energy he always carried when things went his way.

“I mean, really—did you see his face? Did you?” he shouted to no one in particular, before turning sharply to the side, eyes flashing. “All that superior Time Lord smugness just melted away like candle wax. Glorious!”

You leaned quietly against a cracked pillar, arms folded, lips quirked in something between a smirk and an indulgent smile. You weren’t hiding—he always knew where you were. But you liked watching him like this, unfiltered and alight with his own wicked success.

He hadn’t noticed you just yet—too caught up in his own mind, recounting every detail of his scheme aloud, basking in the memory of the Doctor’s stunned expression.

“Five seconds, just five, and he still didn’t get it. Honestly, what kind of hero—”

He paused mid-pace, head cocking slightly, as if feeling your gaze press gently against him. His eyes snapped toward you—and there it was: that split-second flicker of something tender, something human, beneath all the madness. Recognition. Affection.

A grin spread slowly across his face. Dangerous. Boyish. Infectious.

“Ah. There you are.” He strode toward you with purpose, that ever-present theatrical swagger in his step. “And here I thought I’d lost my favorite audience member.”

You chuckled under your breath. “You always know where I am.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Details. Irrelevant. You should’ve seen it from the beginning—it was poetry, honestly.”

With a flourish, he turned, gesturing grandly to the smoldering skyline as if it were a masterpiece he’d just painted.

“I orchestrated this—” his voice dropped into a conspiratorial tone, “—by whispering a single sentence into the Chancellor’s ear. Just one. A little idea, a gentle suggestion. A crack in the foundation. Then I just… watched.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “What was the sentence?”

He leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I told him the Doctor had already chosen a side. That he’d made a deal with the Resistance.” His grin widened. “He panicked. Started second-guessing everyone. Power shifted. Allegiances cracked. I just gave it a… gentle push.”

You laughed, genuinely impressed despite yourself. “That’s awful.”

He looked delighted. “Isn’t it just?”

You let him go on. And oh, he did.

He recounted the entire sequence of his victory like it was a symphony only he could conduct—each beat, each crescendo, delivered with such vivid flair that it felt like you were watching the events unfold all over again. His voice, rich with excitement, danced through the thick air as he paced, words tumbling from his lips faster than his thoughts could catch up.

His hands moved constantly—painting scenes in the air, sketching invisible outlines of explosions, puppet-string betrayals, and the glorious moment the Doctor realized he’d been had. You knew most of the details already, having heard him plan it all over long nights filled with half-mad laughter and soft murmurs under starlight. But hearing it now, relived in the heat of his triumph, was something else entirely.

He was alive with it.

Eyes bright and blazing, darting from yours to the ruined skyline and back again. His coat flared behind him as he turned and spun in time with his words, every gesture exaggerated, theatrical, him. The way he spoke made you forget, for a moment, that this was chaos—that people were probably still screaming somewhere, that the Doctor was licking his wounds, that an entire planet had just been brought to its knees.

But that was always the Master’s way.

He made destruction beautiful. Made madness magnetic. Made you watch.

“—and then,” he was saying now, breathless with enthusiasm, “right when they thought they’d neutralized the override��I triggered the second layer. Oh, the look on his face—priceless, just—” he spun to face you directly, arms wide, eyes gleaming, “he actually gasped. Can you believe it? Gasped. Like he was in a bloody stage play.”

You were smiling—couldn’t help it. His energy was a storm and you were caught in the center, perfectly still, perfectly safe.

“And the Chancellor—oh, the poor man. Thought he still had a chance to negotiate. ‘We can make a deal,’” the Master mimicked in a pitiful voice, clutching his hands to his chest. “‘We can rebuild!’” Then he dropped the act, eyes lighting up with wicked joy. “So I rebuilt it for him. Into a pile of ash.”

He barked a laugh, breathless, then turned back to the horizon, arms raised in triumph.

You watched him—your mad, brilliant, terrifying lover—and without warning, the words slipped out before your brain could stop them.

“You are so adorable.”

Silence.

Immediate and absolute.

The Master froze mid-gesture, one hand still half-lifted, fingers curled like he’d just been about to snap them. His body locked up, spine straight, shoulders tense. He blinked once. Then again. Slowly. As though someone had unplugged his mind and it needed a second to reboot.

“…What?” he asked, voice oddly soft.

You shrugged, arms folded, a playful smile teasing at your lips. “You heard me.”

He stared at you, mouth parting like he was about to speak, but then thought better of it. You could see the wheels turning, trying to make sense of this affront to his villainous image.

“Adorable?” he echoed, as if testing the word and finding it poisonous.

You nodded. “Very.”

He sputtered. Actually sputtered. “I—I’m not adorable! I’m terrifying! I orchestrated the downfall of an entire planetary government before breakfast! I made the Doctor cry! I burned down a cathedral because I didn’t like the acoustics!”

You bit your lip to stop the laugh that wanted out. “Mhm. Very fearsome.”

“I am not cute!” he barked, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

And now you were laughing, full and unrestrained. “Oh, come on! You were just bouncing around like a kid on Christmas morning. Arms flailing, eyes sparkling, doing your little spinny-turns—”

“They’re intimidating turns!”

“—and your laugh,” you added, ignoring his interruption, “that little cackle you do when you think you’ve outsmarted everyone? It’s adorable.”

He looked personally offended. “It’s a maniacal laugh of doom!”

You stepped closer, slow and teasing, eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s high-pitched and you throw your head back like a cartoon villain. It’s so cute.”

The Master straightened, clearly attempting to salvage what little dignity he believed he had left. “Right,” he said firmly, adjusting his coat like it might reestablish his menace. “Let’s clear this up immediately. I am the Master. I’ve conquered solar systems. I’ve erased entire bloodlines. I am a walking nightmare.”

He swept his coat back dramatically, raised both arms toward the sky, and let out the most over-the-top, theatrical villain laugh you’d ever heard.

It echoed off the broken walls behind you. A flock of frightened birds scattered in the distance.

You just smiled.

“See? You’re doing it again.”

“What?!”

“The hands! You flail them when you’re excited. And the coat thing? You do that every time you want to be dramatic. It’s endearing.”

“It’s menacing!”

You snorted, closing the distance between you and resting a hand on his chest. His breath caught, just slightly—whether from annoyance or from the contact, you couldn’t say.

“You’re very good at being bad,” you said softly, “but sometimes you get this light in your eyes. Like you’re just so pleased with yourself. Like you’re having the time of your life causing mayhem. And yeah, it’s a little scary. But it’s also… cute.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“I—You—Stop saying that!” he snapped, a little breathless now.

You reached up slowly and, with the softest touch, tapped the tip of his nose.

His entire face scrunched in confusion.

“Especially when you do that,” you said, smiling wide. “That right there.”

“I will throw you into a wormhole,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his voice.

You chuckled, leaning in closer until your nose nearly brushed his. “You won’t.”

His hands came up instinctively, resting at your waist, like he’d forgotten his threats mid-sentence. His brow furrowed, clearly warring with himself—halfway between being cross and being absolutely, shamefully charmed.

“You’re the worst,” he murmured, not moving away.

“I’m your worst,” you corrected, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “And I happen to think the universe’s most dangerous man is also the universe’s most adorable.”

He groaned, letting his forehead fall against yours with a dramatic sigh. “This is ruining my image. People will talk.”

“Let them,” you whispered. “You’ll still be feared by billions.”

“And loved by one?” he asked, voice softer now, almost reverent.

You smiled. “Terrifyingly so.”

He sighed again, this one more resigned than dramatic.

Then, quietly, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like pride, defeat, and reluctant affection all at once.

▸ Everything

@alexxavicry

▸ Doctor Who

@alechardyssslut

[comealongclaras]

I had an old WIP lying around and decided to finish and post it on AO3. Enjoy!

[daydreaming-of-doctor-who]

(Headcanons) Going to Renaissance Faire with Simm!Master

A/N: This is a continuation of my Renaissance series, following after the one I did for the Tenth Doctor. Again, this wasn't a request, just a little something I wanted to write. Expect more coming soon with other characters too!

Why would you want to go a festival where they celebrate the Renaissance era when he has a time machine that can just take you to experience it all for yourself?

Oh...you want to have a genuine human moment without the dangers and more of the actual Renaissance? Sounds boring, but okay.

He's moping the whole entire time, constantly expressing how boring this is. Maybe he needs to liven things up?

It's obvious at this point you're going to have to try to keep him under control (good luck!)

He's already deciding to get rid of the Queen Elizabeth the First, but you try to tell him she's just an actress and not the real thing. Doesn't matter, he's the only superior one.

You decide to distract him by saying something you know he would like. "Master, forget about her. How about you and I dress up like a King and Queen?"

As you expected, everyone started complimenting your outfits, even bowing down and going along with the act because you were dressed as royalty.

The Master is now starting to have a great time. He plans to outshine Queen Elizabeth.

He buys you anything your heart desires. You name it and it's yours. You want a necklace? Okay! You want another tiara? Get it! You want to steal Queen Elizabeth's crown and throne for yourself? He's already working on it.

Watching the battle shows, the Master laughs at the violence, commenting on how humans will always beat each other up for no reason.

You introduce him to some of the crazy human food and he is...intrigued. Not that he will admit it out loud. It's all right there in the facial expressions, in the way his eyes widen slight and a small, brief smile comes to his face.

You should have already known by now that if you go anywhere with the Master, it's always bound to end in chaos and destruction.

Queen Elizabeth's throne is missing. Security is on the chase. Word has gotten out and everyone is talking about it. You overhear it, turning to the Master who just winks at you.

"This would be our cue to get away while we can, dear Y/N!"

Now you're running back to the TARDIS with security and everyone else on your tail. It starts dematerializing as you sit yourself down in the throne that caused all the trouble before laughing.

This will be a moment you won't forget.