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ghoulsbrain · 1 month

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«I want some new books, some toys, like a partical accelerator, a 3-D printer and a pony.»

#doctor who #doctor who vault #the vault #missy doctor who #missy #the mistress #the master #doctor who season 10 #fanart #art #piano #the doctor

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hey-missy-youre-so-fine · 3 months

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It's just occurred to me that the Doctor never found out that Missy literally killed and betrayed herself to save the Doctor. He spent so much time hoping that she could become good, that they could be friends again, but all he knows is that Missy refused to stand with him in favor of running off with a former version of herself. He doesn't know that she chose to be brave, to selflessly stand with the Doctor, because all those hours they spent together in the vault really did mean something, that she really did want to change, because at the end of the day, she would do anything, anything, if it meant that the Doctor would see her as the friend that she used to be, back before the Doctor was the Doctor and the Master was the Master; back when it was just little Koschei and Theta against the world.

#doctor who #thoschei #the master #missy #the doctor #the doctor/the master #fandom #world enough and time #vault era #stand with me

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vanajinn · 3 months

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Happy 90th birthday Tom Baker!

Tribute to my favourite roles of his.

#my art #illustration #tom baker #fourth doctor #doctor who #classic who #sherlock holmes #the vault of horror #the life and loves of a she-devil

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taardisblue · 2 years

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not to be a broken record stuck on thoschei and spydoc as a continuation of twissy but. something something missy dying when she tried and failed to stand with and be more like the doctor. something something ttc being about the master trying and failing to make the doctor more like him. something something the master now trying to define the doctor, to literally be the doctor... and still failing anyway. he fell the same way missy did; failing to be more like the doctor. but this time; this time? she fell with him

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kinglivv · 1 year

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Seventy Years

Missy x Reader

Summary: Missy and the reader used to run together, wreaking havoc across the universe. But since Missy’s entrapment in the vault, they haven’t had an ounce of contact…

Warnings: Swearing, generally threatening behaviour from both parties

A/N: I haven’t posted a fic in a year and half, but today I sat down and forced myself to write after Missy popped up in a dream of mine very briefly. I’m not sure if there’s still even an audience for it, and my writing skills are a bit rusty as well as my Doctor Who knowledge. Enjoy!

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

This was bad.

You grab the TARDIS leaver for what must be the hundredth time and slam it down to no avail. The ship creaks slightly, but as you desperately press buttons and turn knobs, it doesn’t budge. Why, why, why had you never got the Doctor to teach you how to fly it properly?

Catching your breath, you slump against the console, it’s edge digging into your lower back as you stare at the wall blankly, racking your brain for a solution. Psychic link? No - you hadn’t done that in years and you weren’t in the mood for a migraine. Search for a manual? No - you’d spend days just searching for it. Ask the ship nicely? Definitely no - she was a bitch.

There was simply no one but the Doctor who knew how to fly the TARDIS, and when the Doctor was stranded on another planet in another time zone, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do to get back to him.

And then another idea spawns. It makes your guts twist and your stomach crawl and you grit your teeth. You were smart, even for a human, and you knew there was really no other solution.

—-

“Missy?”

There’s silence from the other side of the door and you almost turn back. This is a bad idea.

“Missy?”

“This is an unusual place to find you, dear,”

The Glasgow accent cuts through tension like an ice pick, so clear, crisp and steady, just as it’s always been. You swallow.

“I need your help.”

More silence. And then the voice is right there on the other side, so close.

“Ah. Should have known you’d only come down here if you wanted something.”

“The Doctor’s on Mars,” you power on, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you’re speaking to anyone but her, “sometime in the 1800s. There’s Ice Warriors and Victorians, and I was in the TARDIS and it just - it just dematerialised and it won’t go back to him. I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a pause as she contemplates your predicament. You haven’t uttered the question, but she knows exactly what you’re asking.

“Have taken any readings?” She finally asks.

“Yes,” a hurried hand pulls out the piece of paper you’d scrawled over, “Eye of harmony’s at 260 degrees Celsius. Oils at 350. Pressure’s at 7.”

“Good girl,” you can hear a smile in her voice and your cheeks flare up.

“So do you know what’s wrong with it?” You almost snap.

“You’re not gonna be able to fix it, I’ll tell you that much,”

“So what do I do?”

“You let me out.”

—

The vault doors open with a hiss and there she stands, silhouetted in the dim blue light and cutting the most dashing figure. There’s a tap tap tap of her heels as she approaches you, a smug smile on her face. She’s changed since you last saw her, maybe seventy years ago now. Her make-up’s softer, her hair less tamed, and her smile is somewhat half hearted. The mania’s still there though, in the whites of her eyes and down the line of her cheek bone.

She reaches you and takes a brief glance around the hallway. It’s the most she’s seen of Bristol since her entrapment in the vault. And then there’s a click and she looks down in time to see a handcuff slotting around her wrist. The other side is on yours. She looks to your other hand and sees a… pencil and she grins. She’d taught you decades ago just how easy it was to kill a Timelord with even the smallest of sharp objects - just one nip at the back of the neck and they’re forced into their next regeneration. The sight of it in your hand makes her heart flutter and her stomach sink.

“I see how it is,” she fakes the bravado and you see right through it.

Without a word, you give the chain a yank and she follows you silently.

—-

“No funny business,” you instruct her as you approach the TARDIS console, although you know it’s a useless sentiment. She could pull the leaver and shove you into a black hole within seconds if she so pleased. But she’d allowed you the luxury of obediently walking up to the Doctor’s office without so much as a word, save for the moment when she’d grabbed your hand as someone passed by you in an effort to hide the handcuffs. Your heart had caught in your throat and you’d hoped she couldn’t feel it hammering away.

Now, stood in the TARDIS, she looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“As if I’d ever!” She mocks offense. “Mars 1810, you said?”

“Yes,” you reply, and your arm is forced to move with her as she reaches for different buttons. You’re uncomfortably close. “Coordinates 29487 by 74,” you say unprompted when her hands hover over the keyboard expectantly, and it makes your stomach twist with how easily you fall back into this routine after seventy years of virtually no contact. Memories surface of you decades ago, pressed up against her as you whisper all the places you wanted her to take you.

She types in the coordinates and twists a vast variation of knobs and presses buttons you’d never had thought needed pressing. Just before she pulls the leaver, you say “Wait.” and pull the monitor over, double checking she’s taking you exactly where she’s promised. You neglect to notice how she’s looking at you.

“You really don’t believe I’ve changed,” her shoulders have slumped slightly and you glance at her.

“Is that supposed to make me feel something?” you say passively, attention shifting back to the monitor.

Missy’s jaw clenches.

“Seventy years,” she states.

“Seventy years is nothing compared to the hundreds you’ve spent wreacking havoc.”

“I seem to remember you were present for quite a bit of that,” she retorts, “you could have visited me at any point. I know you’ve been living in Bristol,l.”

You ignore the thinly veiled accusation and scroll through the monitor. She was right though. You’d been here this whole time, posing as a student (you’d acquired almost thirty degrees in your decades spent here with the Doctor) and living a normal human life, avoiding the Mistress and waiting for her to change.

And then she yanks the cuffs and you’re dragged into her with an “oof!”

“You know what I think it is,” she hisses, “I think you like to pretend we’re different, like those years we spent together didn’t happen.”

“Missy, stop!” You struggle against her but she holds you fast.

“Does it never occur to you that I might be trying? And that your ignoring me for seventy years might be having a detrimental impact on that?“

“I wanted to know if you’re serious about this,” you snap back, the threat leaking into your voice and there you are, she almost wants to smile with glee. You were never really scared, least of all of her and you still had that bite in you. “Me and you are no good for each other if you’re really going cold turkey from being bad. Civilisations have burned because we’ve egged each other on, and the fact is that you can’t get better when I’m in the picture. Not when you could persuade me to break you out, or teach me how to force the Doctor into his next regeneration. We’re not good for each other and that’s a well known fact - I’ve not been avoiding you, I’ve been waiting.”

Missy’s face softens in surprise and you wonder if maybe you’ve gone to far. Maybe she’ll really sling you into a black hole now. Her mouth opens but before she can say anything, you’ve snapped off the cuffs and yanked the lever down. The TARDIS wheezes and you storm off to stand at the doors and wait whilst she’s left to pilot to a safe position on Mars.

—

You’re in trouble with the Doctor, you’re well aware. You’d apologised profusely when he’d stepped on board and his ever expressive eyebrows had knotted so deeply in her direction. There was a silence as he’d quickly dropped a shaking Bill home, and now he’d stepped out to drop Nardole off in his office - they had been out there a while and where presumably having an argument about the current predicament.

Missy however, sits unbothered by it all, tucked into a little alcove off one of the upper walkways circling the console room. She’s reading a book on TARDIS maintenance.

She glances up when you sit down opposite in the alcove.

“You’re right,” you announce, “and I’m sorry.”

Usually she’d retort with an “I’m always right!”, but today she just watches you, waiting, her cheekbones hollow in the soft light of the TARDIS, her eyes so blue. It occurs to you that you haven’t really seen her in a long time. Sure, the Doctor had occasionally showed you a photo of her, updated you on her progress, but this is the first time you’d really looked at her since you’d gone cold turkey from your friendship.

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited you,” you say, “and I should have. I guess I’ve just been… scared. And after I went so long without seeing you it was just easier to pretend none of it never happened.”

She nods, gaze shifting to the pillar in the centre of the TARDIS. “I am trying,” she confesses, “some days are better than others, but in whole… I think I really am trying,”

“I know you are.”

You lean over and press a kiss to her lips. A proper one, and it strikes you how familiar it is, how easily you fall back into your old pattern. You’re made for each other really, in body, mind and soul and you hold her jaw as she kisses back eagerly, not daring to move her hands from her book, frozen in the moment.

And then the door swings open - the Doctor’s definitely seen it, and the Doctor’s definitely not happy, but you turn away from Missy and push past him. A new chapter seems to be beginning.

(Will add my old taglist when i can find it)

#doctor who #the master #missy x reader #missy #gomez!master #michelle gomez #madam satan #the twelfth doctor #nardole #bill potts #peter capaldi #gender neutral reader #reader insert #doctor who fic #the vault #empress of mars #ice warriors

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quietwingsinthesky · 27 days

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Drabble 91/366 - Doctor Who

The Master has always taken up as much of the Doctor’s space as she can.

Missy, right now, has laid claim to his entire lap. He thinks his legs might be going numb beneath her, but if she’s on her best behavior, he can live with it.

Though when Missy peers up at him, he can feel mischief brewing.

“Don’t,” he warns, uselessly.

Missy smiles. Quick as lightning, her hand darts out and bats at his face.

“Stop that.” She does it again.

“I said, stop.” She doesn’t.

The only correct response is for the Doctor to boop her back.

#in honor of the boops!!!!#vault boops!!!!#drabble-a-day #drabble-a-day 2024 #fanfiction #doctor who #twissy #thoschei #the doctor #the master #missy dw #twelfth doctor #boopfic #boop

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dykepaldi · 7 months

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got 12clara on the brain do we all agree the cloisters confession involved them having some sort of time lord psychic exchange

idk if this is something other people have thought about, obviously they said they love each other normal style as well but i feel like there arent gonna be any words that could scratch the surface of the Everything

itd be the most emotionally intense thing either of them had ever experienced like 1000 acid trips at once but all that remains of it in the doctor’s mind is a beautiful song. clara, on the other hand, gets 4.5 billion years worth of suffering beamed into her mind in a matter of seconds and goes absolutely batshit insane (moreso than she already was)

#*person whos done acid once voice* woah itd be just like doing acid #post hell bent clara being properly evil is a really fun idea i dont think about it enough #but it makes sense right #she became more and more like the doctor in the worst ways #and now the person she cares about infinitely more than anything else is gone #and its not like ashildr will be the compassionate human companion to stop her doing genocides #twelveclara #going back to my original point this is def something ive accepted to be true basically since the episode comes out #i feel like they would have done psychic stuff all the time anyway like clara was flying the tardis and shit she could do that too #but every time theyd both have big massive vault doors with a billion locks stopping any kind of feelings getting out lmao #maybe psychic time lord stuff is a metaphor for sex maybe not up to you #fresh n sexy dr who tag #mine

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celestialorcas · 2 months

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Loving that The Magnus Archives, Slay The Princess, and specifically Twissy are living equally spaced in my head right now, makes for some interesting thought paths

#what if slay the princess was 12 going to down to the vault in S10 #omg i need to match different doctors to the voices hold on #doctor who #twissy #12th doctor #missy #thoschei #slay the princess

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doctorwhogirlie · 2 months

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My boyfriend got me a new book! 🥰🥰🥰

#very happy #doctor who book #the monster vault #doctor who #doctor who girlie #classic who #classic doctor who

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cerezsis · 11 months

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Love is a Promise

Chapter Five

Something strange has come to Earth.

A string of mismatched syllables broke through the Doctor’s consciousness, pulling him unceremoniously from the deep abyss of sleep. Rolling onto his back, his groggy mind worked to identify the source, slowly concluding it was the eleven-month-old sleeping between him and Missy. Or rather, the eleven-month-old who was supposed to be sleeping between him and Missy.

“Da ba da,” they very much awake Alistair babbled with purpose, “Badada.”

“That’s very interesting,” a second voice responded.

Opening his eyes, the Doctor was met with an annoyingly bright light, needing to blink a few times to adjust. Alistair sat upright in the bed, holding a mobile phone – his, the Doctor quickly realized – in his hands, the image of Nardole on the screen.

“Gaga badaba,” Alistair eagerly shook the phone as he spoke.

“Sorry, but could you please put your dad on now?” Nardole tried to coax him, “I’ve told you already it’s urgent.”

Quickly glancing to the other side of the bed, the Doctor saw Missy lying still, undisturbed by their son’s antics. With the hopes of keeping it that way, he scooped up the baby, taking the phone from his hands as he took them out to the corridor.

“What do you want?” the Doctor asked, holding the phone with his free hand.

“It’s not me, sir, it’s UNIT,” Nardole got straight to explaining, “They’re asking for you.”