#tensimm fanfiction

[thecreatorfromgallifrey]

It’s sad, it’s twisted, it’s emotional, it’s Thoschei, perfection

[pearlofamphitrite]

I don’t usually post these, but here’s an excerpt of a tensimm fanfic I’m working on atm because these two fascinate me to no end

[ofutopia]

I'm looking for a tensimm fic I've read a few months/years (?) ago. And I haven't bookmarked it bc I'm stupid.

From what I remember the tenth Doctor and the Master leave the Valiant together in the Tardis. I think there's a plot point about Jack there but can't be sure.

And what I remember for sure and what I want to read again. At some point the Doctor is made prisoner in a factory sort of building. The Master comes to free him and make the factory explode. The Doctor and him have argument about his type of rescue but he made him understand that he won't apologise for doing it.

(it's not At his core, even if there is a plot point that is not too far from it)

@tenderlywicked (tagging you bc you have an extensive knowledge of doctor/master fanfiction)

[landscaping-your-mind]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), Tenth Doctor & Martha Jones, Tenth Doctor & The Doctor's TARDIS

Characters: Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), The Master (Simm), Martha Jones, The Doctor's TARDIS

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Rescue, The Master is Imprisoned in the TARDIS (Doctor Who), The Master as The Doctor's Companion (Doctor Who), Tenth Doctor to the Rescue (Doctor Who), Implied/Referenced Torture, He/Him and It/Its Pronouns for the Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), She/Her and They/Them Pronouns for Martha Jones, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode AU: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, Post-Episode AU: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, Martha and the Doctor are exes despite never having been in a relationship

Language: English

Published: 2023-10-15

Words: 1,153

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Lucy Saxon doesn't shoot the Master. Unfortunately, it's hard to get someone to let you save the man who ended the world when you're very in love and been tortured for a year by him. OR The Doctor saves the Master from U.N.I.T.. --- Written for Whumptober 2023, day 15. Prompt used is "I'm fine" also elements of the lyric.

The Doctor’s primary method of subterfuge being walking in confidently and flashing his psychic paper at anyone who asked questions was bound to come back to bite him at some point, but he really wished it wasn’t now.

“Alright,” it said to the TARDIS. “No mistakes. We need precision. And accuracy. Both precision and accuracy.”

The Doctor pushed the button and crossed his fingers, hoping that no one would notice her materialising sound. Cautiously, the Doctor stepped out of her doors to find that they were in the storage room he’d hoped for. The Doctor inched the door open a crack and stuck his head out. No one there. He snuck out the room, closing the door behind him, and breathed in, deeply, through its nose. Right.

The Doctor creeped through the corridors, keeping out of line of sight of the security cameras as much as he could, disabling them when it wasn’t possible or wasn’t possible on the return.

The Valiant was surprisingly unguarded, which, it supposed, made sense if you thought about it. The average human couldn’t even make it up to the Valiant , so there was no need to have too many guards. There was, however, a guard outside. A stationary guard. One who probably knew who he was. Or knew it by reputation.

The Doctor squared his shoulders and stepped towards the guard. Confidence.

“Hello,” it said. The guard tensed and reached for his gun and the Doctor stepped back, hands in the air. “No need to shoot me! Just passing through, might’ve left something in that room behind you.”

The guard raised an eyebrow.

“Right, of course.” The Doctor stepped back and put his hands in its pockets. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Timothy Gibbons.”

“Right, Timmy, can I call you Timmy?” Timmy didn’t answer, so the Doctor continued. “I’m the Doctor.”

Timmy stepped back slightly.

“So you’ve heard of me.”

“Yeah,” Timmy answered.

“And I’m sure you have very strict instructions to keep me out of that room.”

Timmy laughed uncomfortably, just once. “Very strict.”

“And I assume these instructions say something like… Stockholm syndrome, he was ready to give his life for someone who tortured him for a year, stuff like that?”

Timmy nodded, not meeting its eyes.

The Doctor nodded and sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Right, sit down with me, Timmy.”

“Uh…” Timmy began.

“I’m unarmed, always unarmed, you know me.”

Timmy sat down in front of the Doctor, looking supremely awkward as he did so.

“Do you want to know something about Stockholm syndrome, Timmy?”

“Alright…”

“It’s actually built on a lie.”

“Right,” Timmy blew out air through his mouth. “I’m sorry, sir–”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“–but I think you really need to go.”

“Do you know how the term was coined?” the Doctor asked, ignoring Timmy’s discomfort.

“The Stockholm bank robbery?”

“Exactly! Bank robbery in Stockholm, Sweden. Jan-Erik Olsson took four employees at a bank hostage for six days. And when they were released, they didn’t testify against Mr. Olsson, instead they raised money for his defence.”

“Yeah, right, I think you should leave–”

The Doctor ploughed on. “But it’s not because they were brainwashed, it’s because the police were a bigger threat to their lives than their captors, and I know that you lot at U.N.I.T., or the people over at Torchwood would jump at the chance to do what you’re doing to the Master to me.”

The Doctor stood up. Timmy didn’t move. “You finally have an alien you can justify hurting, and when I tell you to stop, you can write it off as brainwashing, or mental illness. Does it make it easier? To pretend that I’m not in my right mind?”

Timmy didn’t answer, just licked his lips like he was trying to find something to say.

“I know you’re not in charge here, Timmy,” the Doctor continued. “But I’m asking nicely, let me take him.”

“I can’t–”

“I won’t ask nicely again.”

Timmy closed his eyes, then opened them and got to his feet.

“I think he’s asleep, sir.”

The Doctor stared over at where the Master was lying, face blank. “You can call it that.” He took a deep breath, then turned back to face Timmy.

“Thank you, Timmy, I’ll make sure you get a raise. When I can. Or maybe you’ve already gotten the raise.”

The Doctor walked over to the Master and picked him up, as gently as it could.

“Do you need any help?” Timmy asked, incredibly out of his depth.

“I’d appreciate it if you just cleared off,” the Doctor answered. “Thank you, Timothy Gibbons.”

“No problem.”

The Doctor looked down at the Master and brushed a strand of hair out of the Master’s face.

“Come on,” it said. “Let’s go home.”

---

“You don’t have to carry me, Doctor, I’m fine,” the Master said almost immediately after he woke up, already squirming out of the Doctor’s arms.

“You are not,” the Doctor countered. “It’s been a while since you’d had to actively stop someone’s telepathy, hasn’t it.”

There was a pause. The Master spoke first. “Just put me down.”

“Alright,” the Doctor said amicably, placing the Master gently on the floor. Immediately, the Master stumbled, leading to the Doctor pulling the Master’s arm around its back to support the Master.

The Master rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn’t move his arm.

“Are you alright, though?” the Doctor asked.

“Didn’t need you to come save me.”

“Course you didn’t,” the Doctor muttered.

“Some proper hero, all you need now is a horse. Ride in, shouting a battle cry…”

“So you’re alright enough to make snide comments.”

“Seems you are too.”

The Doctor turned to face the Master. There was another pause, before they both started walking.

“TARDIS is this way,” the Doctor said.

“I can see, you know.”

“Thought it might be useful to know where we’re–” the Doctor stopped mid-sentence, looking around for something before shoving the Master behind him.

“Just be quiet,” it hissed, before turning back to the front, just as Martha Jones stepped into the adjoining corridor.

“Doctor?”

“Martha.”

There was a pause, Martha’s eyes flicked to the Master behind it.

“Don’t suppose I need to ask you what you’re doing with him,” she said, voice clipped.

“No,” the Doctor said, almost as uncomfortable as Timmy was. “No, I suppose you don’t.”

“And you already know everything he’s done. To you, to my family, to the world, and you still love him, so there’s no reason telling you to stop, is there?”

The Doctor took in a deep breath. “Martha, I–”

“Just go,” Martha said. “Just leave, just take him with you and leave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Doctor.”

“I am so sorry, Martha Jones.”

Martha shrugged. “Yeah.”

“They were torturing him, Martha.”

“Just–” Martha rubbed her face with their hands. “Just don’t let him hurt anyone.”

“I won't,” the Doctor said. “I promise.”

[roxannepolice]

I really need to scream in joy and share, because I've found an absolutely brilliant tensimm fic, and from what I can tell the author isn't on tumblr, AND THIS GOLD NEEDS TO BE READ, KUDOED AND COMMENTED!

This could be an actual episode. Hell, with a bit of tweaking this could be the secret 60th special with dilfy Fourteen meeting dilfy goateed Saxon that content deprived tensimm bitches it's me I'm bitches BBC supported charities need.

[theangelshavethephonebox]

Oh besties I made another chapter! Chapter 19: Torment.

Jack knows what the Doctor and the Master do in their free time, and he starts to get pissed about it. Smut and annoyed immortals.

[my-brain-is-rotting]

So I was reading a thoschei domestic au kinda fic with Donna and I couldn't help myself so I had to draw this.

Here's a link to the fic if anyone's interested:

(Also I know they are supposed to have the "lock down David and John Simm with a goatee" look but I did not dare to experiment with that yet.)

[andy-loves-everything]

How the actual hell was i reading fanfiction with more than A HUNDRED FLIPPING CHAPTERS in middle school??? Recently I've been getting back into fanfiction and I can't even handle like 20 chapters omg 😭😭😭😭

[tenderlywicked]

One more chapter of Happy Now (full of angst, as always) is up on AO3 :)

Many, many thanks to @roxannepolice for beta-ing!

[piwo-zero]

this fandom produces some really fucked up tensimm fics recently and I'm so thankful y'all fanfic writers using cannibalism as a metaphor of love and other fucked up things like idk drowning or sth I love you !!!

[kronos-lungbarrow-oakdown]

So, quick poll because I am curious & playing RPG with my beta made me ponder about some questions…

That’s very important because I personally don’t read much … anything sex related about thoschei of any kind? But I have been feeling knee on writing some so…

[thecreatorfromgallifrey]

I love when the master get like this, it’s adorable 😭😭

[roxannepolice]

AAA, I can't not spread one of my favourite fics of all time, with 9-11th Doctors and Simm!Master forming a band (and Donna pushes Tensimm!):

“In a different alternative universe, I definitely would have just been in a band.”

John Simm talking to Craig Charles on BBC Radio 6 Music

[quietwingsinthesky]

Something with the master getting relief from the drums? Bonus points if the “comfort” is insidious in a background way w him not not realizing bc it’s too good

<3 gently mindbreaks him <3 for his own good <3

It’s the sweet relief of quiet that has the Master leaning into the Doctor’s hands.

“There we go,” the Doctor murmurs. There’s nothing but silence and him, and the Master hasn’t felt so relaxed in his entire life.

He was upset earlier. He can barely reach the feeling through the liquid comfort filling his mind. Something about what the Doctor offered him to drink, and the thick feeling of his tongue, and heavy weight of his limbs as he clambers into the Doctor’s lap. He tries to call the anger back, but all he can feel are pleasant waves lapping around his mind again and again.

There’s a beat on the edge of his awareness, growing louder. Returning.

The Doctor squeezes the back of his neck. His eyelids fall shut, leave him in the dark with the Doctor’s touch and the Doctor’s voice to hold onto.

“They’re persistent,” the Doctor says, frustrated. “Fine. Let me take some more out. We’ll see if that gets rid of them.”

He’s too slow to think or react as the Doctor’s mind presses into his. For a moment, he has the energy to fight, but not the means. His body tenses as the Doctor shushes him. He presses the Master down, down, down, under the water. It’s calm and quiet below. He melts under the Doctor’s hands as he holds him, in his mind and in reality.

Something flows out of him into the deep water. He frowns against the Doctor’s shoulder.

But it’s so quiet. It doesn’t matter what he’s lost as long as it’s quiet.

His thoughts come slower. Every feeling turns into relaxed joy. He tries to remember who he is. The Doctor drowns him gently and only draws him up again when he’s satisfied. The drums are gone again, even above the surface.

“All better, Koschei?” the Doctor asks. The name sinks into him, remembered and accepted.

(Wasn’t there something else? Hadn’t he made himself into someone-)

Koschei leans into the Doctor, the source of his peace, always his friend, the only thing in the universe he thinks about or needs. All these things become perfectly true, and he doesn’t notice the Doctor’s mind curled around his own to whisper them to him while he’s so empty of his own thoughts.

He’s never been more happy than he is lazing under the Doctor’s hands as they pet down his spine and through his hair. His touch makes Koschei’s skin tingle, drawing his attention to the Doctor’s hands and away from what the Doctor’s doing to his head. It’s all so easy.

Vibrations at the back of his skull. He whines into the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Back again?” the Doctor says, but he sounds a little too pleased. Koschei can’t remember if he should be worried about that. Why he would be. The Doctor only wants to help him. He can keep the drums away, if Koschei lets him do anything he wants. Though, Koschei’s not sure that there’s a choice, or if he’d even be able to make it, so maybe it’s best that the Doctor doesn’t ask, only plunges him back down into the water in his head and all that’s left of the Master slowly drains away.

Koschei blinks sleepily into the Doctor’s shoulder. He’s not sure who that is that he’s feeling slip from his fingers. Someone important? He’s not sure who he is, either, but the Doctor’s most loved friend.

It doesn’t matter, he decides. As long as it’s quiet. He lets his mind be washed out to blissful emptiness.

[landscaping-your-mind]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Major Character Death

Category: M/M

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationship: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm)

Characters: Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), The Master (Simm)

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Episode: s03e12-e13 The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords, Grief/Mourning, POV Tenth Doctor, POV Second Person, HOW ARE WE ODING HERE TONIGHT, Canonical Character Death

Words: 283

Summary:

The Master dies in the Doctor’s arms. The Master is dead in the Doctor’s arms. --- Written for Whumptober 2023 day 6, using alt prompt 10. Prompt is shaking.

Warnings:

Character death

Grief

Second person POV

You’ve never held anyone so tightly, never wished quite so hard for someone to come back — come on, you’re joking, you don’t hate me that much, just regenerate, just come back.

He’s the only person in the world, was the only person in the world, and his mind is gone, emotions, everything, just regenerate, just come back.

Your face crumples, tears running down like a rainstorm, rocking back and forth, clutching him to your chest, the way his legs move like he’s a ragdoll makes you cry harder. Just regenerate, just come back.

You scream through gritted teeth, please, please, anywhere, through the constellations, you said, you said you’d fight through the constellations, and it still applies, you’d do anything, commit any atrocity. Just regenerate.

It’s so quiet. When does the quiet stop, when is there any other sound but your own ragged breathing and devastated sobbing. Just come back, just regenerate.

His suit is soaked with tears and blood, and he’s not moving. You can’t feel anything, the only emotion is your own soul-crushing grief. Just come back, just come back so I can feel you being smug, do you really hate me that much?

Jack touches you on the shoulder and you jerk around, he says something you can’t really make out, starts to walk away. You pick up the Master’s— You pick up the Master, follow Jack to TARDIS, there’s blood on your shirt, his skin is turning cold. Come back, just come back, we can do whatever you want, just leave Earth alone.

Just regenerate, just come back, just regenerate, do you really hate me that much, just regenerate, just come back, do you really hate me that much?

[quietwings-fics]

time lords don't know what birth control is

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: TenSimm Additional Tags: Eggpreg, Humor, Pregnant Master (Doctor Who), Post-Season/Series 03 AU Wordcount: 100 Summary:

This is why you don't leave two Time Lords alone together.

The Doctor says he will take responsibility for the Master, and Martha trusts him.

Her mistake, really.

“He’s pregnant,” she says, without inflection.

“Well,” the Doctor says, as sheepish as he can manage, “no more Gallifrey, no more…” He waves a hand that is apparently meant to indicate whatever Time Lords consider birth control. “And it’s more complicated-”

“He doesn’t want to admit he oviposited in me,” the Master says. Martha wonders if she can hit him. If that’s okay, morally, since he’s pr-

“Oviposited?” she processes.

“Eggs,” the Master helpfully clarifies.

Martha is so glad she left the TARDIS.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)