Between Doom Patrol hosting an amateur group-therapy session because the characters all realized the BBEG was using their secrets, weaknesses, and insecurities against them
And Lucifer having the literal Devil attend actual therapy with a licensed therapist (who admittedly he was sleeping with but they were actual sessions) and openly talking about and working through his issues
There is no fucking reason for the pseudo-"therapy" bullshit that Marvel/Disney has been pulling in their shows because the above proves that it is possible to have your characters go through therapy and have it be interesting and healthy.
hey! i'm looking to sell/generally get rid of some of my books, and i have three hardcover lemony snicket books! they are:
a series of unfortunate events #3: the wide window (first edition, 1999)
all the wrong questions #1: "who could that be at this hour?" (presumably first edition, printed in australia in 2012)
all the wrong questions #2: "when did you see her last?" (presumably first edition, printed in australia in 2013)
i was wondering if anyone would be interested in buying them, as i know lemony snicket has a fairly sizeable fanbase here on tumblr and hardcover books can be hard to come by. if nobody is looking to buy, i'm more than happy to give them away! i know the internet isn't a super safe place to be giving your address to strangers on, so i would prefer if you had a P.O. box i could send it to! if nobody wants them, i'll end up donating them to charity.
please reblog, even if you're not interested! the more people who see this the better :)
About 20 minutes into breakfast with Shanna, Chris texts you to make sure it's a good time for him to stop by.
Chris: it's now or never... let's do this thing.
You: my hands just got really sweaty... come on in.
You looked up and watched Chris opening the door to the little café. The chime of the bell on the door seemed a lot louder today.
You weren't nervous before right now.. but all of the sudden you couldn't stop shifting in your seat, your eyes locked on Chris after he made his way over to your table. Shanna followed your gaze, turning to see him approach your table.
She looked at you, her eyes squinted. "What's going on? Today is my day.."
You laughed, scooting so Chris could sit next to you in the booth. "You know, I really hate it when you guys say that. It feels like a custody battle."
She laughed, "It basically is."
You took a bite, chewing slowly as you tried to figure out your next move. Why didn't you guys discuss this beforehand?
Chris squeezed your hand under the table, making your cheeks burn. What if Shanna could see??
You turned to look at him, biting your cheek. "Soo."
He smiled, "Shanna.. I have a question for you."
She met his gaze, squinting her eyes again. She never trusted him, it was always so funny to you. "What?"
"Do you think.. if you're available tonight.. you could watch Jordan for a little bit?" He asked, stealing her water and taking a sip.
"Hey-- I mean, I would've said yes, but now that you stole my water, I'm not so sure." She teased, reaching around and grabbing it from him. You chuckled, some siblings never change. "Why are you asking me and not Y/N?"
You bit your cheek again and cleared your throat. "Well..." You looked over at Jordan making sure he was preoccupied. "Um.. So. Chris and I-- well, I guess just me. He's my child. But it was Chris's idea, so I suppose Chris and I is still accur--"
"Oh my god, this is painful." Chris interrupted, laughing at your nervous rambling. "Y/N and I would like to go on a date tonight and we wanted to know if you could watch Jordan while she's out?" He wondered, stealing her water again.
"She's never gonna say yes if you keep stealing her shit!" you laughed, grabbing her water and placing it back in front of her and sliding yours over to him.
She smiled and shook her head. "How long has this been going on?"
You puffed out your cheeks, exhaling slowly, "Ummm.. not long. Like last night?"
She squealed, clasping her hands together, causing Jordan to look up from your phone. His eyes flickered from Shanna to Chris to you. "What?" He asked, pausing the movie playing on your phone.
You laughed, pressing play, "Shan just really likes her coffee."
You knew Jordan loved Chris, but he was only 2. You wanted to hide as much of your romantic relationship with Chris from him as you could. Just for the time being. Obviously, he was young and it probably wouldn't matter. How likely was it that he would understand? But he's only seen you intimate with Julien and what if it was confusing for him? He's gone through so much this past year. You couldn't throw this at him, too.
He laughed, turning his attention back to his movie and muttering, "silly Shan." under his breath, making you all laugh.
She looked back at you, "I'm so excited!! You guys are basically perfect for each other." She noted, a loving grin spreading across her face. "Ohhh you guys."
"Alright, alright." you laughed, leaning into Chris a little. "She said yes." You noted, looking up at him.
He nodded, biting his lip to try and hide the happiness clearly painted on his face. "She did."
"I'm ready to be wined and dined, Christopher." You smiled, taking a sip of coffee.
Shanna scrunched up her face, looking at you over the brim of her coffee mug. "Please don't finish that sentence." She ordered, a look of disgust on her face.
Your face twisted with confusion for a second before you realized what she meant. "OH MY GOD! Gross. Why would you even say that??" You laughed, Chris's hand flying to his pec as he doubled over.
"Get your mind out of the gutter!" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay, well... it's settled. I'll be by at 7." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek after making sure Jordan wasn't watching. "See you then." He stood up and ruffled Jordan's hair. "See you later, little man. Bye, Shan."
You watched him walk out, your cheeks burning again. Or did they ever stop in the first place?
"I knew it." She said in a sing-songy voice.
You shook your head, "Oh shush." You waved your hand at her dismissively and took a sip of your coffee.
Later that night, Shanna came by to grab Jordan. She promised to take him to a movie so you could ready in peace. You answered the door in a silk robe, with your make up half done and your hair half styled.
"Honestly, just keep it like this. He'll like it regardless." She joked, winking at you.
"Ha-Ha. Funny." You stepped aside to let her in. "Jo?? Aunt Shanna is here."
You heard his little footsteps pitter-patter down the hall, "Shan!!" He yelled, running over and throwing himself into her arms. "Meatballs now?" He asked.
She laughed, "Yes, meatballs now!" She had promised to take him to see Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and take him to get spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.
You handed her his backpack and kissed his cheek. "Have fun, mommy loves you." You hugged Shanna, "Thank you so much for this."
She grinned, "Anytime for my three favorite people."
You could hear her talking with Jordan as they walked out of the building, smiling when he laughed at her jokes.
Walking back towards your room, you stopped by the kitchen and poured yourself a tall glass of your favorite wine. "Just something to calm your nerves." you mumbled to yourself, cranking up Today's Top Hits on Spotify.
You felt yourself relax as you continued getting ready, reminding yourself that it was just Chris. You guys were already really close and had a solid friendship. This was nothing different.
You laughed, choking your wine. "No, that's not what I'm saying!"
"Okay, so you don't hate me.. you just hate my gifts." Julien noted, he signaled to the waiter, handing him the flowers. "Can you toss these for me? Thanks!"
"Allergic." You corrected, sniffling as the pollen hit your nose again, "very allergic to your gifts."
He laughed, handing you a napkin, "Okay, so note to self, no flowers on anymore dates."
You smiled, "So there's going to be more?"
"Oh, absolutely. Are you kidding me? I'm gonna marry you." He stated, sipping his wine.
You smirked, "You say like that you know? This is our first date!"
"Oh I do know. I just know it. Mark my words, Y/N. You will be my wife." Julien said, grinning from ear to ear.
Normally in a situation like this, you might've ran. To any normal person, this would've been a red flag. But it was different. Because deep down, you knew it, too.
You smiled at the memory, adding a coat of lipstick to your lips. A month ago, you would've spiraled. You'd be collapsed on the floor, sobbing about the life you missed out on. Today, you could breathe. You could smile and reminisce about Julien without completely falling apart. He was your past, and while he was supposed to be your future, you also were starting to understand that you could move forward and take him with you.
You threw on a knee-length bodycon dress, adjusting the thin straps over your shoulders and taking a second glance in the mirror. Was it too much? He'd told you to dress nice.. but was this too nice? You strapped on a pair of stilettos and checked the time on your phone, he should be here any minute. You obviously hadn't been on a first date in years, your nervousness was starting to consume you.
You took another large gulp of your wine as you heard 3 knocks on your front door.
You steadied your breath before making your way to the front door, inhaling slowly as you pulled it open.
A grin slowly formed across Chris’s faced, he studied you for a second. “Wow.” He breathed out.
You felt your cheeks burning, immediately turning shy. “Wow, yourself. You clean up well, Evans.”
He was wearing a dark navy suit with a white, grandfather collar dress shirt underneath. He pulled you in for a hug, your body shivered when his hands snaked around your waist to the small of your back. He pressed a very gentle kiss against your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat, you haven’t felt like this in a long time and his cologne was intoxicating.
“It’s not too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself.
Chris scoffed, “are you kidding me? It’s perfect.” He met your gaze, “you’re perfect.” He corrected, once again, you felt the blood rise to your cheeks.
You bit your cheek, smiling softly. “Thank you. Always such a gentleman. I’ll make sure to tell your mom.” You teased.
He laughed, “she expects nothing less from me. You ready?”
You nodded turning slightly to grab your things. “Yeah, just need my wallet.”
“Um. Don’t insult me. No you don’t. Grab your phone and let’s go.” He insisted.
You laughed, grabbing your phone off of the counter. “Fine, fine. Sorry.” You walked back over to him, stopping as you passed through the door way and glancing at his lips for a moment too long. “Am i allowed to kiss you?” You asked softly.
He smiled, “only if you want to.”
You took a second, gently placing your hand on his cheek before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. Your stomach instantly filling with butterflies. You lingered for a second before pulling away. “Oh, i definitely want to.” You smiled and reached up, wiping your lipstick from his mouth.
He smirked before extending his hand and intertwining your fingers. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chris pulled into a super fancy restaurant that you weren’t entirely sure how to pronounce and pulled his car around to the back. He didn’t want the two of you to end up in a tabloid the next day, so the manager had agreed to walk you in through the back.
Once you sat at your table, Chris ordered a bottle of sweet red wine, which he knew was your favorite. You were sat in a corner booth towards the back of the restaurant, the lights were dim and classical music played at a volume throughout the restaurant.
You looked at Chris after the menus were handed over. “Are you sure i look nice enough to be here?”
He laughed, “you look amazing, stop worrying! Also, it’s not like anyone can see you anyway. You could’ve just come in pj’s.”
You took a sip of wine, “Mmm, i almost did.” You looked at the menu, feeling very out of your element. You weren’t sure what any of this stuff was.. but you didn’t wanna say it. You tried to look for familiar words.
He set his menu down, taking a sip of wine and making a face. “This shit is gross. How do you like red wine??”
You laughed, setting your menu down. “It’s sweet red. Different than dry red. Trust me.” You glanced around the restaurant, shifting in your seat.
“You okay?” He asked.
You smiled, nodding. “Oh my god, yes. This is.. amazing. I promise!”
He squinted at you. “Alright.” He reached down and pulled out his wallet. “This isn’t us.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and threw it on the table. “Let’s go.” He stood up, extending his arm to you.
“Chris, i promise. This is magnificent.” You reassured.
“You’re right. It is. But it’s not us.” He smiled.
You reached out, grabbing his hand. “Okay… what are you doing?”
He walked you back through the kitchen, pulling open the back door and taking you to his car. “Going somewhere more us.”
You both climbed in and took off, you didn’t want to admit it but you were kind of relieved. A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of a Shake Shack.
“Cheeseburger, no lettuce, no Mayo, cheese fries, and an Oreo shake?” He asked, pointing at you as he climbed out of the car.
You flashed a grin and laughed, “ding ding ding!”
“Be back in 10.”
You smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone to text Shanna.
You: how’s it going??
Shanna: everything’s great! Don’t worry about us, enjoy dinner. Where’d he end up taking you?
You: well, i have no clue. Couldn’t pronounce it. But we left before we even ordered food and now we’re at Shake Shack.
Shanna: of course lol have fun! We’ll see you when you get back. Don’t rush.
You: thank you ♥️
Chris came back with your order, placing the bag of greasy food in your lap and smiling. “Ready?”
You nodded, “ready.”
He drove off, reaching over and taking your hand in his, absentmindedly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. Everything was so easy with Chris. Maybe it was because of the friendship you’d built beforehand, maybe it was because he was just easy to be around. You weren’t sure. But not once during this whole night did anything feel off or uncomfortable between you.
You drove in a comfortable silence, stealing an occasional glance at the other. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but after about 20 minutes, you pulled into a small park overlooking the Boston Harbor. “Chris… I’m pretty sure this park is closed?” You said, looking around and noticing the empty parking lot and dimmed lights.
He shrugged, “eh, who cares.”
You smiled, climbing out of the car and taking the food with you. Chris met you around the side, taking your hand and leading you to a bench close to the waterfront.
You sat in silence, eating the food from Shake Shack, dressed to the 9’s at a park in the Boston Harbor. You smiled and chuckled to yourself.
He looked over at you and raised an eyebrow, “care to share with the class?”
You laughed, wiping your mouth. “I’m just laughing at how uncomfortable we were at that restaurant.”
He nodded his head, taking a fry from the basket, “yeah… my bad. I don’t know what i was thinking.”
You laughed again, “well, you were uh— wining and dining the shit out of me, i believe.”
“Mmmm, yeah..” he laughed with you, “i was just trying to impress you.”
“You don’t need to impress me. This. This right here,” you gestured to the park, “is just as meaningful as a 5 star restaurant. If not more. It’s personal. It’s us.” You swayed into him for a second before sitting back up right. “We’ve been getting breakfast at a mom and pop corner diner for months now. We could’ve just gone there.” You laughed.
He looked over at you, smiling, “you really are just.. perfect.”
You shook your head, “not perfect. Easily impressed? Simple? I think those are the words you’re looking for.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely thinking perfect.”
After you’d finished eating, you snuggled up on the bench and talked for hours. He asked about Julien, how you met, your first date, your wedding day, Jordan, his first birthday, your parents, his parents. He wasn’t scared of your past. He wasn’t scared that you still loved Julien. He wanted to know about him. About how you loved him and how he loved you. You’d forgotten what it felt like to talk about him and not be sad. It was therapeutic. Refreshing. Being with Chris was like how every new romance was described in a rom-com. A breath of fresh air.
“We should probably head back.” You suggested.
Chris could hear the disappointment in your voice. “Hey, tonight might be coming to a close, but we’ve got tomorrow, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday—-“
You laughed, leaning over and covering his mouth, “okay, okay, okay, i get it!”
He slid an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you home.”
You smiled over at him and stood up, reaching for his hand and pulling him off of the bench.
You squealed and laughed as he pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You stared at each other for a second before he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, leaning into him and moving your lips against his. Your fingers raked through his hair, which you had quickly learned was a favorite of his. After a few seconds, you pulled away, resting your forehead against his. “Thank you.” You whispered.
He took his index finger and titled your chin up, placing a quick kiss on your lips. “Thank you.” He repeated. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”
“Same.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and walking back to his car.
You pulled up to your apartment complex and sighed. “I miss Jordan. But i also don’t want this night to end.” Laughing, you looked over and wrapped your hand around Chris’s.
“Whenever you’re ready, he’s more than welcome to join us.” He kissed the back of your hand.
He walked you up to your apartment door, trying to be quiet because he knew Shanna was inside. “Thank you again for tonight. I had a ton of fun.”
You placed another kiss to his lips, pulling him in by his suit jacket, “me, too. Thank you.”
You went to unlock your door when Shanna pulled it opened, “so i take it things went well??” She exclaimed, her voice an octave too high for your tired brain to register.
You buried your face in your hands as Chris laughed, “ugh, yes. Things went well!”
He hugged you, ever so lightly kissing your cheek in passing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He promised, hugging his sister and leaving.
You shook your head, “that’s weird!” You laughed, pointing at Shanna.
“It’s cute.” She corrected. “Ssooo… do you guys work as well as i thought you would?”
You bit your lip, “i mean, i don’t wanna speak for Chris… but i think so.”
“Oh yay!!” She wrapped you in a hug. “He’s honestly so sweet. One of the nicest men i know.. he’ll make you so happy.”
Summary: Roman Centurions. Pandora's Box. Together you and the Master find yourselves exploring the depths of the cavern below Stonehenge and what mysteries lay within. Legend speaks of a box, an ancient god trapped inside its walls. Why does the rest of the universe want it so badly? And what can the Master do when he finally finds out what’s waiting inside the Pandorica is not what it seems?...
Notes: Welcome back to Remastered! Its been a long time coming! I know I promised an update a while ago, but sometimes these things just don’t work out the way you want them to. If we had a dedicated Master show my job would be so much easier! I finally managed to beat my writers block and found an episode i’d like to masterfy, so i hope you all enjoy!
(You know the drill by now. @plethora-of-imagines, my beloved hat and master lover, this one is for you. just like the other ones. and all the ones coming. because who else would they be for?)
All around the Master, ever so slowly, the world he’d found himself in was suddenly starting to make sense. Dangerous, deadly, foreboding sense. On any other day, the renegade Time Lord would see that as a good thing. But that evening, underneath the ancient ruins of Stonehenge, the Master knew the dark was not on his side.
The communicator had crashed out a mere few seconds ago, fizzing and hissing against his ear. He’d thrown the device to the floor with a frustrated yell, gritting his teeth as his fingers returned to rub at his beard in thought. The same hand ran over his cheek and through his tangled fringe that hung over his eye, fingers gripping at the hair as his feet scuffed and disrupted the old dust upon the floor. He was pacing back and forth. This was not good. The high pitched ringing was deafening, his fingers plugging his ears as he stared down as the communicator. Its corner was dented, dust flying into the small cracks that had crawled up the edge of the glass. The screen still flickers with your face and name, the giant red letters of ‘COMMUNICATION LINE DISRUPTED' beneath it not failing to make his stomach churn.
You were both in grave danger. But it seemed like his was getting even worse.
“Master, it's not real!”
You’d yelled down the communicator line. Behind your plea, the Master had heard the Tardis creaking. Her engines were metal upon metal, screeching and groaning as it hurtled through the Time Vortex.
“What the hell does that mean, it's not real? Where are you?”
“Listen to me! All of it, everything’s a lie! The Romans, they’re right here.”
The Master was getting impatient. But you sounded almost terrified. The Roman platoon was hurrying around him carrying weapons and ammunition throughout the Underhenge. Almost like clockwork. At least they’d forgiven your lie about your identities- Emperor Nero and Pharaoh Cleopatra had seemed like clever aliases at the time. The Master sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What are you talking about, what's all that noise-”
“In the book!”
“You’d better not be breaking my Tardis!”
“Master just listen to me, please!”
You let out a sudden scream. The Tardis jolted forward, sending you slamming into the console. The cloister bells had begun to toll, sparks and shocks of electricity and flame spurting from the central console of the type 41 machine.
All around the Master, the Roman soldiers had slumped forward. Knees locked into position, life drained from their eyes. Weapons, spears and swords clattered to the floor with ricochetting bangs. The Master blew onto the screen of the communicator, banishing the dust from its surface. Every attempt to reopen the communication line was met with an electronic buzz, denying him access. Preoccupied, with one finger plugged in his ear and his shoulder pushed up against the other, he failed to hear the marching footsteps of the platoon behind him.
A unified electronic whirr permeated the room, with all of the soldiers' hands snapping open and small, cylindrical cannons pushing through the exposed middle of their palms. All around the Master, the soldiers were following their commands and drawing closer and closer.
“What was that bang?!”
The Master pulled the com from his ear, before pulling it back closer to his mouth. A Roman had turned to face him, sending him a quirked eyebrow. In return the Master sent a fake smile, before ducking behind the corner of the large box in the center of the room. It would be best if he wasn't seen during this conversation.
“Y/N, talk to me, can you hear me?”
The Master half whispered.
“The Romans are in this book! The Tardis took me back to my house, i don't know why-”
“When I was a kid. Something else had been there, the grass had these weird scorch patterns and the readings on that thing you gave me were going off the scale. The book on my nightstand, Roman history, i’d studied it at school-”
“You’d said it was your favorite subject, yes.”
Part of you wanted to mull over the fact the Master had remembered your favorite subject, enjoying the fact the hardened criminal had taken the time and care to recall such a trivial fact about his ‘not’ companion. He often mused how preferred to call you his partner. You treasured its double meaning to no end. But you also knew that favouritism was what had led you to visit this Roman colony. You felt slightly responsible over the ensuing chaos.
“I knew I recognized them from somewhere- The Romans, in the book, they’re the exact ones that are with you right now.”
“That's impossible- they’re DRAWINGS, love!”
“I swear! Something has copied the book from my house!”
The Master smacked the side of the communicator, shaking even more dust free from the device. It was only after that he raised his head, suddenly aware of the silence surrounding him. The Romans, or whatever they were, had stood themselves in flank formation, lined up against the edges of the chamber. Blocking his only way out. Beyond the boundary the other soldiers stood side by side in perfect position, surrounding the Time Lord in the purple tweed jacket. Cornering him in front of the Pandorica. Finally, the ringing had dissolved into white noise. Now the Master could think. Almost.
Before he could even begin to spew out a threat, of which he had many planned and ready at the tip of his tongue, the room began to shake with a gargantuan rumble. Lit torches, hung on the walls in metal cages, rattled in their confinements as dust fell from the ceiling like snowfall. The Master's attention was yanked from the Romans, his head whipping behind him as the corner of the Pandorica slowly began to split along its seam. The rumble grew stronger as the stone walls shifted along their mechanisms, the green glow drowned by the emerging, blinding white light.
“Oh, good. You’re ready to come out now?”
Sarcasm and wit had recently become a favorite of the Master. His new body seemed to enjoy plastering on a smug grin and a growled one liner when facing certain doom. He was universally known as indestructible, as his previous faces had bragged. But it seemed this was rapidly misplaced in the current situation.
“I promise you!”
You yelled in protest, slamming hard on a lever and frantically tapping on the interface as you argued.
“They’re the exact same! So is the box!”
The Master reared his head to look at the box he’d pressed his back against.
“What do you mean, the box?”
The legendary Pandorica loomed down at him, the intricate detailing carved into its side glowing with an ominous green light that burnt from within. History had spoken of it, the mystery that lay beneath stonehenge, but to earthly historians, in their ignorant and self aggrandizing ways, it was just that. A mystery. Humanity had chalked the box up to being a folk tale, to ignore the mortifying idea of the supposedly supernatural being… natural: That aliens were anything beyond little green men in flying saucers, and human science simply couldn't, or more likely refused, to explain what had fallen from the stars.
“The Pandorica, I'd said it was like Pandora's box, right?”
You’d clapped with delight, unable to hide your excitement when the Tardis had materialised atop that hill hours before. You’d mentioned how similar the structure seemed to you, even down to the name: Pandora's box…
Your favourite book as a child. He could remember you mentioning it.
The Master did not like where this was going.
“Well?” he asked hesitantly, possibly for the first time in his life.
“It's here, on the cover of the book, my copy of the book, it's the same box.”
The Time Lord could see something peeking through the bright white, the silhouette of something existing within the box. He’d try again with the communicator in a moment, he supposed, slipping it into his endlessly deep inside pocket. He lent forward, peering into the glow, ever curious. Was this the so-called trickster, the universe destroying monster that had dwelled inside that box for millennia? The possibility of an answer was suddenly snatched away, however, when two strong arms punched through the gap between his torso and his arms, sliding under his shoulders and yanking him towards his feet.
The Master let out a shocked sound not unlike a bark, gritting his teeth as the soldiers clutched the man tight between them. His hair flipped madly as he turned to look at his wardens- the familiar, glassy look in their eyes turning the cogs in his brain. He tugged on their grasp, snarling as they dragged him through the dark and dusty cavern. His fingers scrambled to grab onto their own, to try and pry them from his form. Until he saw their fingers were no longer there. Replaced with small blasters in place of their palms. Their living plastic palms.
A sight all too familiar for the Master.
“How can they be the same, where even are you?”
The Master pinched the bridge of his nose once more, giving a disgruntled huff as his head fell back against the side of the Pandorica. Thoughts and possibilities were scrambling around inside his brains, like matadors trying to tame the most frightful of bulls in the ring.
“Master, these are my memories. Why did they go to my house, whatever it is?”
“Most likely, god, mimicry? They needed something that would peak our interest, make us come here-”
The Tardis jolted and screeched once more, her engines whining like a startled parakeet. Sparks and rumbles rocked the floor. You lost your footing, falling to your knees while clutching tight to the edge of the console. The Master pushed himself from the side of the box with a growl.
“What the hell are you doing to my Tardis, Y/n?”
“I don't know!”
You protested, heaving yourself up against the console. You continued to move along the screens, following the rhythm the Master had taught you. It was almost like a dance, especially the way his hands had wandered to your hips while he introduced you to the console.
“Its like something else is controlling it, the controls aren't responding-”
Another bang of sparks. The Master rolled his eyes.
“All those flying lessons I gave you- try and land her, wherever you are. The Tardis has protocols in place to keep you safe. You have to get out of there.”
“The Nestene consciousness, I'd like to say it's pleasant to see you again.”
The Master grunted, trying to yank his shoulder free and almost losing his footing against his own force.
“Romans, a step up from shop dummies and plastic flowers, I'm impressed.”
He truly couldn't tell if his teasing was to intimidate or calm his own racing heartbeats. The Romans whirred and stomped, oblivious to his protests. Also oblivious to his remarks.
“Listen, I'm ordering you to let me go, there's bigger things for me to deal with here-”
Still no reply. The Master grit his teeth, yanking himself backwards in a feeble attempt at escape. He tried to thrash, to worm his way out of their grasp. But it was fruitless. The Autons were just as obnoxiously durable as the first time he’d met them, all those years ago.
“I COMMAND YOU TO LET ME GO!”
Further screams pierced through the communicator line, the timelord wincing as he once more pulled the device from his ear. You sounded terrified, the Tardis spiralling further out of control.
“Y/n? Love, talk to me!”
“Master, I can't control her! Whatever's out there with you, it has to be connected. The same box, the same Romans, the same night, that CAN'T be a coincidence! Master, everything out there with you, It's a trap. It has to be. They wanted us to come here, Please just trust me, you have to get out of there-”
Crash. Hiss. Bang. The Tardis was screaming as it hurtled through the Vortex. The Master was beginning to worry. This time he wasn't going to deny it.
“Y/N! SHUT HER DOWN!”
“MASTER, I CAN'T! PLEASE!”
The world round the Master began to ring with a high pitched shriek. A piercing ring that echoed throughout the underhenge. The timelord winced, scrunching up his face and baring his teeth as he shrunk away from the din. Beside his ear he could hear your screams, the Tardis hurtling towards the unknown. Until suddenly, zap. Crackle. Nothing.
“Y/n, can you hear me!?”
The communicator line went dead.
The Master was growing more tense by the second. And even angrier still.
“I order you to obey! Why do you want me, why do you want my Y/n’s memories-”
The Roman soldier to his left gave a grim admittance, staring forwards at the growing light shining from within the Pandorica. It was almost hypnotic to the lumps of plastic surrounding him, something he’d consider himself a seasoned expert of. But this was different. This still stunk of betrayal and subterfuge. And also a slight loss of pride.
“The Pandorica is ready.”
The Master should have been excited. Ready to meet this mythical creature, a ghost in time, a legend. But now he felt slightly sick. He leered up at the soldier, antagonizing the guard.
“Ready for what, eh? What other big bads have you around their pinkie this time?”
The plethora of Romans did not speak. They simply continued to stare.
“I’m going to tell you again, let me go. You took your orders from me, once- you should know who I am! I am the Master!”
“Correct. Subject has self identified.”
The Master's face practically drained of all color. He daren't move his head to look, knowing exactly what scum of the universe was waiting behind him. The sound of the Daleks still sent a quiver of tangible fear down his spine. It had been years since the time war, centuries since the destruction of Skaro. Of Gallifrey. But the Daleks had not only destroyed his people, they had executed him personally. And in the twisted sense of poetry, were the reason he was brought back from the dead. A soldier to fight in the universal war- the only time he decided to be like the Doctor, running away to the end of the universe to escape the carnage that gave the blood red skies and grass of home a brand new meaning.
He wouldn't say he feared them. But a dead Dalek was much more preferable than a living one.
Just like his old face had said. Stupid tin boxes.
“The subject has identified himself. Scan complete. You are the Master.”
“Well, you lot look different. Fancied an upgrade?”
He watched the Daleks, three in a crow, creep towards his line of vision. They were bulky things now, taller than before, each with a garishly bright color scheme that he almost wanted to shield his eyes from. An ugly design for an ugly creature.
“Or is that a poor turn of phrase?”
“YOUR LIMITS, CAPACITIES AND WEAKNESSES HAVE BEEN EXTRAPOLATED. YOU HAVE BEEN CONFIRMED”
Oh great. More Cybermen. If you were here, you’d tease him relentlessly for the reunion. You had earlier, suggesting he take the Cyber parts home and build his own. With a flash of white and a digital blue haze, the Cyber leader phased into vision, followed by two further Cybermen. All carrying large black weapons, much like what he’d found earlier.
“Oh, I was waiting for you to show up. Just can't stay away from me, can you?”
“Your arrogance is continued!”
Sontarans. Fabulous. In another flash, the squadron of Sontarans had appeared in the Underhenge, proudly brandishing their blasters. Before the Master could even calculate a response, the whole room seemed to glow in fire. The Pandorica was still slowly creaking open, the beam of light shining brighter and brighter. The Master, who stood right in its glow, had to shrink away and squint from its brightness.
Teleportation fields, transfer rays, dimensionally transcendental movement corridors, it seemed the world and his wife were cramming themselves into the cavern below the rocks. The Master, now adapting to the light, was met with an endless sea of familiar faces.
Draconians, Ogrons, Juddoon, Kasaavin, Axonites, Cheetah Warriors, Sea Devils, and even their silurian cousins. Even some faces he’d never seen before littered the crowd, some other foes he’d briefly met but never spared a thought to. Sycorax, Hoix, Zygons, members of the Trickster Brigade, Clockwork Droids- and tall, slender men in black suits with a name he couldn't quite remember. He even struggled to remember they were there, looming in the background behind the busying crowd.
The great monsters of the universe had gathered at the Pandorica.
“The Pandorica is ready!”
The Sontaran leader cried. Hesitantly, the Master dared to ask.
“Ready for what?”
The white Dalek, the new supreme, slowly moved closer.
“Ready. For. you.”
The sides of the Pandorica finally slid into position, the blinding shroud of light dissipating. Finally, the Master could see what was before him in the darkness of the cavern. The box had split open to reveal a mechanised chair, almost like a throne. Callous and black, the metal chair was embedded deep into the heart of the Pandorica. Its exterior was fitted with several restraints, the square shaped shackles glowing the same green as the exterior patterns. Two ankles, two wrists, and over the shoulders- any being within would be unable to break free. Or even attempt to escape.
Slowly, the puzzle, not unlike the box in the fairy tale of Pandora, was beginning to slot together. The Master turned to look at the aliens surrounding him- co conspirators, enemies, allies. All had stood to the sides of the room, leaving a walkway between himself and the Pandorica. They stood, watching intently, as the realisation began to appear upon the renegade Time Lords face.
The path was clear. The restraints on the chair had retracted outwards, unlocking themselves. The Pandorica was empty.
But the Master knew.
Not for long.
“Wait, you can't-”
But they already had. The Nestenes began to walk forwards, dragging the Master along with them by his armpits. The timelord kicked and fought their grasp, his grey shoes kicking up dust as he scrambled to find resistance in his footing. The surrounding monsters watched on as the Master fought for his freedom, desperately trying to pull away from the plastic men. He shouted, grunted, bared his teeth, but no amount of tugging and shouting could break the Master free. The Silurians tilted their heads, hissing. The Draconians stood with poised disapproval. The Daleks and Cybermen stood proudly at the front of the line, the Judoon watching silently with the authority of the shadow proclamation. All those creatures, lit by the roaring fire of the flickering torches on the wall.
The Roman imposters dragged the Master to the empty chair, their strength unmatched as they heaved the Time Lord into the waiting seat. He let out a furious yell as the restraints snapped shut around him, his body yanked backwards into the chair. First his wrists, then his ankles, then his shoulders. The entrapments of the Pandorica had shackled him down to his seat. A last set of restraints emerged from within the structure itself, entangling themselves around the Master's waist and stomach, pressing tight against his torso and locking him firmly into the chair. A single light shone from above, acting as a spotlight over the Master’s head. All eyes could see the Time Lord struggle and fight. All eyes knew it was useless. Exactly how they’d designed it to be.
“No, you can't do this to me!”
The Master was visibly rippling with rage.
“All those times I've helped you all!”
“YOUR ASSISTANCE HAS BEEN A SCOURGE ON THE CYBER RACE.”
The Cyberman with black handles spoke, as monotone and electronic as ever. The Master widened his eyes.
“Your presence within the universe has caused vital damage to Dalek strategy.”
“All our plans, every time you step in, have failed to reach fruition! The glory of the Sontaran empire is threatened by your hand!”
The Master turned to look at every monster surrounding the box. The pathway had closed, the races and creatures surging forwards, cornering him even more within the machine. Their faces, if they had one, were full of hatred and disdain. Even the robots among the crowd were seemingly glaring. And those without faces watched on with agreement. The Master glared between them, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
“So, what? You blame me for everything? Want to lock me in a box because you blame me for all your problems!?”
The Daleks' voice was scratchy and mutilated. Much like the creature inside the casing.
“The Pandorica was constructed to provide safety for the Alliance. You have aligned yourself with the Doctor.”
The Master paused for a moment, staring down at the supreme Dalek. How it stood there, with all its pride and might, and accused him of such a thing. He couldn't help but laugh. And so he did. The Master barked out a laugh, teeth bared and head falling back as he sat shackled to the Pandorica.
“Me? With her? Who told you that?”
“CYBER DATA HAS CONFIRMED. YOUR PREVIOUS INCARNATION ASSISTED THE DOCTOR IN CYBER DESTRUCTION.”
“Missy? Really? A five foot four mistress of evil scared you so much you had to put me in a box?”
“Your identity as the Mistress has been confirmed to stand in allegiance with the Doctor. It's a well known fact you chose to stand alongside them. Who knows what chaos you could harbour with your… track record of derailment.”
The Draconian leader stood proud among his council. The Master sent him a scowl, his laughter dying out.
“You think I'm the Doctor's little helper? Her weapon against you all, the crazy old Master, happy to do her dirty work? News flash, I've tried to kill her! Yeah, she's a she now, it's her turn! Some of you I've even worked with! I helped YOU with the Cyberium!”
“The evidence shows otherwise. You simply can no longer be trusted.”
The Kasaavin leader dared to talk against him. The Master questioned how he could even be here, after the Doctor's exile of their race from the planet. Their hatred for him must be strong enough to transcend dimensions. It was almost romantic.
“I’m nothing like the Doctor! I don't even LIKE the Doctor! Sure, I had a bit of a wobble in morals, tried to be good..ish… but I'm back!”
The Master was positively exasperated. His messy hair and wide eyes making him look manic.
“So can somebody, anybody: any man, woman, robot… fish thing. I don't care. Can somebody tell me, what do you all think makes me like the Doctor?”
There was silence across the room. The Master's outburst had made them think. The Master watched them, eyes begging for an acceptable reply. Finally, the Cyberman spoke.
“YOU HAVE GROWN SENTIMENTAL. YOU HAVE TAKEN A COMPANION.”
You. Oh, you. This couldn't just be about you.
The variables began to bubble and clash within the Master's brains. Everything seemed to come back to you. Your choice in trip, your favorite subject, favorite book, you attack from the guard, your fake identity as a queen. And your current fate... However unknown it was.
Surely this couldn't be about you.
“The memories of your companion were extrapolated. A scenario was formed as a test of your intentions.”
“Mercy for a human! Defence over a fleshy girl, instead of the opportunity for universal destruction! Your allegiance cannot be guaranteed, your newfound kindness poses a threat to us all!”
The Master huffed, his hearts fighting within his chest. This couldn't be happening.
“It was you, wasn't it? You took took control of my Tardis-”
“YOUR COMPANION WILL BE DISPOSED OF. YOUR IMPRISONMENT IS A RESULT OF YOUR MERCY.”
“You fell into a trap that you simply could not resist. The draconian empire condemns you.”
“You’re going to kill her, and imprison me, just because you can't trust me to not be good!?”
“The safety of the alliance is paramount. Your history of meddling in Dalek affairs, your part in the destruction of Skarro and our creator, the data cannot be ignored.”
The Master couldn't breathe. The surrounding forces were drawing closer and closer, surrounding him and his line of vision. The walls of the chamber had disappeared within the bodies of the alliance. They were really going to turn on him. They really intended to kill you.
“We will save our universe. From you!”
His mouth was dry. His palms were sweating, his breathing shallow, his rage burning like the brightest of suns. The Master glared upon the alliance, eyes twitching with inconsolable rage. This day had been long. He’d been tested far too much, pushed way too far. This morning he was lying in bed, embracing the warmth of the Tardis and your body against his own. But now his world was being stripped away from him.
Angry didn't begin to cover it.
“Now you listen to me- you bring her back, you know for a fact the destruction of a Tardis in the Vortex will ripple through this universe. And then you’ll have me to deal with.”
“NEGATIVE. YOUR IMPRISONMENT CANNOT BE AVOIDED.”
“Your companion will perish. Your isolation will be permanent. This is confirmed.”
The Master let out a furious scream, a bitter yell that ripped harshly against the back of his throat. The tribe of Silurians hissed and stepped backwards, raising their weapons.
“LISTEN TO ME! If she dies, if my ship burns, I will rip this box apart inch by inch and I will destroy every single one of your ugly little races!”
His shoulders were heaving, spit flying from his mouth as he spat between gritted teeth.
“I will bring down destruction on every one of your stupid little planets and your silly little spaceships. I’m a Time Lord, my people have made a mockery of you since the days you formed on your tiny little rocks, floating through space. I’ll show you how merciful I can truly be as I kill you all slowly, one by one, so you can watch what happens when you think you can destroy me. I am the Master, and you will all pay for this!”
The Cyber leader stepped forwards, clenching a fist to its chest. It looked deep into the Master's eyes, its soulless black pits of metal mesh showing no humanity nor hesitation.
“SEAL THE PANDORICA.”
“Listen to me, you will obey me! The Tardis will implode, your worlds are in so much more danger than you could possibly realise!”
The heavy walls of the Pandorica began to slide shut. The Master was frantic, tugging and yanking against his bonds. Nothing. The metal locks were clasped tight, his body imprisoned and trapped against the seat. His eyes were enormous, his hair flopping from side to side as he continued to fight against the seat. Still, there was no way of escape. No amount of fighting would work. That didn't stop him from trying his best.
“The universe will rot and perish if you harm her! Everything you know will be nothing but ash, I promise you! All your suns, your moons, your hopes, I will destroy each and every one of them! You can't do this to me! I am the Master! You will obey me!”
The Master's words echoed through the Underhenge, bouncing off every wall and dissolving into the gathered crowd. The alliance watched on as the timelord begged for his freedom, promising destruction in his wake. But these were songs they had heard before. Plans ruined by opportune chance, and disappointing failure at the hands of his old friend.
“YOU WILL OBEY ME!”
The Master screamed, as the walls of the Pandorica finally snapped shut. With a hiss the edges of the box sealed together, the mechanical insides ticking away as the glowing green sides twisted and interlocked. As the box gave its last rumble, the Pandorica was finally sealed. The legendary trickster, the mischief maker that had destroyed worlds and brought down civilisations, finally locked within.
The Tardis hurtled through the Vortex, crashing against the walls of time, its engines phasing and crying out as the cloister bell rang from within. You crawled across the floor, scrambling back towards the console, fingers grasping onto anything they could purchase. Sparks flew beside your head, the cables linked to the belly of the console fizzing and pulsating as you begged the console to calm down. You’d been with her for years now, you knew how the Tardis would normally fly. This definitely wasn't her doing. This definitely wasn't her in control.
Your hand smacked hard against the side of the communicator, the line still ringing out every time. You’d tried to call the Master several times, each instance ringing and ringing with no return. He never refused to reply. You clutched on tight as another wave of turbulence hit the flight deck, the trinkets and knick-knacks you’d gathered on your travels tumbling from every shelf and crashing into nothingness against the floor.
“Please, Master, answer me!”
Nothing. He simply wasn't there.
You couldn't cry yet, there was still hope. Or at least, you tried to convince yourself. You hoped for a miracle, for something that would help you regain control of the Tardis. You didn't want to die.
“Master, please! I’ve not got much time!”
Your calls were falling on deaf ears. Nothing was going to save you. A rogue spark suddenly flew from the console, knocking you backwards as the Tardis collided with the Vortex once more. You flung back towards the floor, head colliding with the hardwood as you fell. You felt the impact through your whole body, all strength slipping through your fingers as your eyelids felt heavy. From your position on the floor you could see out the window, the reflection of the flaming Tardis console bathing the Vortex in deep orange.
“Master, I love you, I'm sorry…”
You whispered, your vision beginning to fade. You gazed deeper into space, watching as the world shook and disappeared around you.
And as you blacked out, every star began to fade from the sky.
#going to delete this tomorrow #i'm going to bed now i'm tired #eger isin yoksa degil #ah man always the same conversations i have never had a series that so accurately portrays the conversations between my mum and me
So anyway when Gogo and Honey Lemon decide to have a kid, Gogo would say that she wouldn't cry or get TOO attached, but as soon as they see their little girl, Gogo proceeds to tear up a bit (without anyone knowing) and hold the baby for 5 hours straight