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[dwmasters]

O World, O Life, O Time

[Image ID: A digital illustration depicting Dhawan!Master and the 13th doctor from the waist up. The Thirteenth Doctor is grabbing the Master by the shirt collar, dragging him forward, frustrated and enraged at an atrocity he has done. Thirteen is in her blue t-shirt, suspenders and high-waisted trousers, the Master in a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a waistcoat and tie. Thirteen shows some damage to her face, along the temple and forehead. The Master seems amused by Thirteen's rage, and grins rakishly at her. /End ID]

O World, O Life, O Time by @petercapaldish​

The Doctor and the Master wake up on a strange spaceship with four strangers, and are told they have to complete a series of trials to save planet Earth.

--

In one corner of her mind, the Doctor catalogued the sound of soft footsteps pacing nearby. They weren’t coming near her though, so she decided to leave them be for now. For the moment, she wanted to mope. And think. Really, what had she been doing? How did she get here?

The footsteps plodded closer to her, and something nudged her in the ribs. She groaned again and rolled over, opening her eyes at last.

“Oh, get lost,” she spat, closing them immediately again.

“Don’t be a bitch,” said the Master.

Written by @petercapaldish​

“Hi, I'm Lizzi, and I adore the dark, complicated, crunchy relationship between the Doctor and the Master. I wanted to explore their relationship post The Timeless Children, particularly delving into the grief and the trauma the both of them have experienced, and caused, over the course of their long long lives.”

Art by @faerthingpen​

“I'm Ro and I write and draw things that make me happy! My technique is traditional sketching and inking, followed by digital clean-up and colours. It was a treat to work on two very different pieces for the Masterversary, and a double treat that one of them involved Missy!”

FIC SNIPPET BELOW THE CUT

The Master felt his grin stretch taut across his face, bared his teeth, set them tight. “You see,” he said, “it all started when you left me on Gallifrey with seconds to go before a bomb went off – actually, no,” he corrected himself, “It all started when you locked me up in a prison for a thousand years – actually, no!” A twisted grin began to spread across his face. “It started when you threw me into the Eye of Harmony, or perhaps when you left me to burn on Sarn, or perhaps,” he spat, “when you let your filthy genome infect me in the first place.” 

The Doctor let a huff of breath escape her nose, and a muscle jumped in her cheek. “Do you think,” she said, “I had a choice in that?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he hissed. “You had a choice in the rest of it.” 

She met his gaze. “So we’re here to settle scores?” 

He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips. “No.” He turned, ran a hand down the side of her TARDIS possessively, watching her clench up out of the corner of his eye. “We’ve never understood each other, really,” he said. “You tried to show me, I think, when you were old and Scottish, what it’s like to be you – to be ‘good’.” He mimed the apostrophes sarcastically with his fingers, affecting the accent. “But wasn’t it always just a performance? You were on your best behaviour. I got to act like your companion, or – whatever it is you like to call the little mortals you get to follow you around until they die off.” 

“They’re my friends.” 

“Ha!” he said. “Time Lords are friends. Humans are – an amusement at best. Mayflies.” 

“We’re not friends,” she said, softly. 

The Master shook his head, smiling. “I’m your only friend. At the end of it all, when everyone else is dust, it will always be the two of us.” 

[dwmasters]

Strands

[Image ID: A digital illustration of Delgado!master, the third doctor, and Jo Grant sitting at a booth in a dimly lit restaurant. The Master is speaking, with a grim look on his face. Colorful art lines the walls around them. /End ID]

Strands by @celstese​

After going to Italy to help solve a apparent murder Jo, the Doctor and the Master amongst others seem to end up in a groundhog day loop. Its not all what it seems however. Crossover with 1967 film Col cuore in gola.

Written by @celstese​

Hi I'm Gilbert. I'm a sociology and anthropology major with autism who’s been watching this show for 10 or 11 years at this point. 

Art by @not-mandip​

Hi! I’m Naomi and I love art 💕

FIC SNIPPET BELOW

The room was quiet. In fact it was too quiet. 

The master had found themselves sitting at a round table in the corner watching people pass by in the restaurant. Their thoughts weren't that much of an annoyance at the moment. He felt there was something wrong with time considering he didn't remember how he had gotten there, but he could clearly see the food on the plate. It was a dish of chicken primavera which he had not had before. It was lightly seasoned. 

He heard the front door open and in came his old friend and Miss Grant. He assumed they were hungry or they had found out he was here somehow. He didn't have a clue for once what was even going on. He was straight out of luck to his dismay for the first time in ages. Usually he was five steps ahead of anyone, scheming to the point of excess. Even if it didn't always succeed, one could not say he wasn't prepared, even if he always failed in the end when he faced the doctor. 

[dwmasters]

A Little Bit Of Murder Gets You a Long Way

[ID: A digitally drawn piece of the Macqueen!Master in the ragged garb of his previous incarnation, the Beevers!Master. He's complaining about something, looking clearly upset, as he's being dragged away from a room with Gallifreyan etchings on the wall by a chancellery guard to a brightly lit hallway. The hallway lights the figure of the Master and more faintly the chancellery guard, with another blue light coming from behind the guard.] 

a little bit of murder gets you a long way by @calisinthelibrary​

The Time War looms on the horizon. Every available time lord has been conscripted - including those who are considered long dead. Narvin, unfortunately, is not paid NEARLY enough to deal with the consequences of his own actions, and the Master just wants to stretch his legs and get back to his regularly scheduled universal domination. And really, who can blame either of them.

Written by @calisinthelibrary​

“Hi! I'm Aoi, I'm 20, and I fell down the Big Finish rabbit hole about 2 years ago and I've been stuck ever since!”

Art by @patrexi​

“Hello, I’m Cat! I’m a longtime fan of Doctor Who, but I’ve only recently started interacting with the Doctor Who fandom. It’s been a delight partaking in the 50th Masterversary event as an artist.” 

FIC SNIPPET UNDER THE CUT

Narvinectralonum, Co-Coordinator of the Celestial Intervention Agency, wondered how in the name of Gallifrey he’d ended up drawing the short straw here. At least Romana (who pretended she had no idea what exactly he was doing) didn’t have to deal with people talking back for the most part, and he envied her more and more each day for having the dubious pleasure of dealing with young war Tardises - brash as they were, you could at least walk away from them. Renegades would dog your steps until they were satisfied with the answers you gave them, cheerfully disregarding the unspoken rules on Gallifrey that demanded you do as you’re told. 

The Master sat there, preening in his ragged clothes, as comfortable in the office of one of the most powerful people on Gallifrey as he might have been in his own Tardis which - if Narvin remembered correctly - had been blown to smithereens centuries ago. The late Chancellor Goth’s Tardis had never been recovered after the Terserus incident, and Narvin assumed that he hadn’t been back to Gallifrey to steal another in the centuries between. One could never know with the Master.

[dwmasters]

Show Tunes

[Image ID: Two digital illustrations. The first one depicts the Doctor from Scream of the Shalka from the chest up. He is wearing a green waistcoat, white shirt, and a thin black tie. He has his arms outstretched with a baffled look on his face. Below him is a text caption reading "They're not even show tunes!". The second illustration depicts the Master from Scream of the Shalka from the chest up, wearing a grey nehru suit. He has an angry and shocked look on his face. Both illustrations have a warm golden tone. /End ID]

Show Tunes by @fatalcookies

In which the Master endeavors to sculpt his communication style to the Doctor's needs, and inadvertently makes a playlist.

Written by @fatalcookies

"Jennie here, nefarious h/c writer, Shalka fan, and wannabe fandom grandma."

Art by @space-boy-art

"Hey y'all! I'm Fig, and I draw whatever currently suits my fancy! I'm just vibin bro"

So?” the Master asks.

He does not feel the best balanced, for all of this. Neither of them have sought apologies nor reconciliations since their last spat. The Doctor is a smidge too skeptical and surprised and the Master, skirting too close to a boorishly-spoken truth for his own taste.

At least, he reflects, it puts us both out of our depth.

“Can’t imagine what you’re getting up to,” the Doctor grumbles. He does, however, begin to properly extricate himself from beneath the console.

The first spark of attention was promising. The Master simply has to settle himself in the knowledge that, if this works, it will be worth the effort and any mortification suffered along the way.

“I can’t imagine what you mean by that.”

The Doctor places his tools down with a slight clatter and shoots a look the Master’s way. “You’re scheming,” he accuses as he approaches, stopping short before the Master, and awkwardly opens his hands.

After a moment to organize their respective hands—placing one of the Doctor’s hands upon his waist, posing his elbow appropriately, taking hands on the other side while his last finally settles upon the Doctor’s shoulder—after that, the Master meets the Doctor’s gaze and quirks a brow. “I? Scheme?” He tsks softly. “The very thought , my dear. Come—step out to the side now, won’t you? No, with the right, if you please. Right, left, rock-step, repeat. Simple as you like.”

“This is ridiculous,” the Doctor says, but the tone is not grumbling any longer, just pointed and matter-of-fact. The Master decides to take that as a good sign.

[dwmasters]

Crown Of Flowers

[ID: Missy and The 13th Doctor, in their usual outfits, are slow-dancing together surrounded by light, and can be seen full-body. Missy is smiling, while The Doctor is not. The background, which is a memory, features a large orange-tinted, circular ballroom and students from the Timelord Academy who are also dancing together. The ceiling and walls are covered in Gallifreyan scripture. This picture was drawn digitally. /End ID]

Crown of Flowers by @eternaluniverseworld​

When Missy wakes up in a prison cell, she already knows deep down that something is terribly wrong. A woman tells her the story of a shepherd boy and Missy can’t shake the feeling off, that she should knew this familiar stranger.

A dark future is lurking in the shadows, taunting her useless feelings, and makes sure, that she never forgets that she is the Master.

Writer: @eternaluniverseworld​

“Hi! I’m Emily and I can never resist writing Thoschei, I just love these two idiots too much. I had so much fun celebrating the Master’s 50th birthday together with all of you!”

Artist: @lukifisk​

“Hello! I'm Lukas/Lukifisk, from Spain, and an illustration student. I'm a huge fan of Doctor Who, and since I saw this project, I had to jump in! My favourites are this show, cats, Pokémon Go, and playing music. Nice to meet y'all!”

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Silence, just for a moment before the woman whispered her next words: “The King said, ‘The third question is, how many seconds of time are there in eternity.’” 

Theta had never been able to understand the boy’s answer. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. 

The reply was barely audible, but of course, the Mistress heard it. She closed her eyes, the realization who was telling her that story hit hard. 

“Wait!” She demanded but she didn’t listen. As always, she didn’t listen.

“Then said the shepherd boy, ‘In Lower Pomerania is the Diamond Mountain, which is two miles and a half high, two miles and a half wide, and two miles and a half in depth; every hundred years a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on it, and when the whole mountain is worn away by this, then the first second of eternity will be over.’” 

The woman’s voice – the Doctor’s voice – broke, barely audible anymore. 

[dwmasters]

Of Aberration

[ID: Black and white traditional art done with ink and paint. Jacobi!Master and the Eighth Doctor stand in front of a chalk board, bordered with white. The Master has his hands on the Doctor's cheek as they nearly kiss. The Master smiles subtly. /End ID]

Of Aberration by @diaryofriversong​

When the Doctor gets alerted about a temporal anomaly near Coal Hill School, he goes undercover to find what’s causing it.

Writer: @diaryofriversong​

“Hi i'm Elliot & i'm a writer who really loves the Master in all forms!”

Artist: @fatalcookies

“Hello friends! I'm Jennie, and though I typically keep to a word document to crank out those good ol' words, I thought I'd give a shot to art this time around.”

The day is uneventful for the most part. Actually, one of the students had to be sent home early for trying to start a fight with another student, but in terms of searching for the cause of the temporal anomaly... it’s been uneventful. He bumps into Yana, literally, on his way out of the classroom, and ends up on the floor before he knows what’s happened. 

“Oh!” he says, startled, scrambling to pick up the books he’d dropped. “I’m sorry!” 

“I should be the one apologizing,” Yana says with a laugh, bending down to pick up some of the books as well. He holds his hand out for the Doctor to help him to his feet, who accepts it. “Are you all right?” 

“Yes, I just wasn’t looking where I was going. I’ve got rather a lot on my mind at the moment.” The Doctor shrugs, taking the other books from Yana. “Thank you, Yana. Where are you off to now?”

[dwmasters]

Kiss From A Rose

[ID: Digital art, cell-shaded. In Thirteen's TARDIS, Missy, Jo, Rose and Clara have recently jail-broken the Doctor. All wear prison jumpsuits, and Thirteen is affectionately embracing Missy, visible from the hips up. Due to Thirteen's unfortunate lack of hygiene in recent memory, Missy recoils at the attention (or at least, that's her excuse). In the background, the three companions look on (drawn in chibi form), clearly finding the situation adorable. /End ID]

Kiss From A Rose by @not-jodie-yet​

Rose, Missy, Clara, and Jo Grant attempt to rescue the Doctor from a space prison; Rose deals with weirdly fluttery feelings for Clara; aliens are threatened; and strikes are considered.

Writer @not-jodie-yet​

“I'm Quinn! I organized this event and I'm amazed at the incredible writing and fic everyone's produced. I'm a bio major with a penchant for writing too many twissy oneshots and cuddling with my cat!”

Artist @faerthingpen​

“I'm Ro and I write and draw things that make me happy! My technique is traditional sketching and inking, followed by digital clean-up and colours. It was a treat to work on two very different pieces for the Masterversary, and a double treat that one of them involved Missy!”

Clara and Missy’s eyes flick between the three of them, the rhino and the two small women. Missy mouths something to Clara that looks suspiciously like Drama in the sludge fandom? 

The alien swings a fist at Rose, and Rose ducks out of the way just in time, scrambling out of her seat and glancing around for something that might look like a weapon. Her hand closes around her spoon and she brandishes it in front of her like a sword. “Leave us alone,” she spits, focusing on keeping her hand steady and her expression fierce. 

Missy snatches the spoon out of her hand, and Rose darts back as she slams it against the tabletop, snapping the head clean off, the new edge jagged and sharp. The alien lunges forward again, and Missy jabs the end of her new weapon into their arm. All Rose can hear is her own ragged breathing, but as the alien screams, the noise pierces her ears, and she covers them with her hands, ducking her head down. Missy shoots her an unreadable look, and yanks the spoon out of the alien’s flesh, pressing it against the delicate pinkish grey skin of their throat. 

“Hello,” says Missy. “Are you going to make this easy for me, or am I going to have to poke around in that mushy brain of yours?”

[dwmasters]

Persona

[ID: A digitally drawn piece of Thirteen and the Dhawan!Master. They’re investigating a dark library, backs facing the viewer and framing the left and right sides of the piece. Shining on their dark forms, right in the center of the canvas is a bright, muted pink vision of Theta Sigma and Koschei running happily through the red fields of Gallifrey; The Capitol is far behind them, just barely masked by distant mountains. /End ID]

Persona by @lovethellamas​

''So things are as follow :

Petri is amnesiac. So amnesiac that she isn't even sure that Petri is her real name. (It probably isn't, and tastes all wrong in her brain whenever she thinks it, but it'll have to do for now).

She's also stuck in a convent, with nowhere else to go, and people have generally been pretty nice but there's a corpse in one of the rooms and she's pretty sure it isn't because of an accident.

(Actually, she would bet on it, had she anything to bet.)

And the only person she feels (kind of) safe to disclose that theory (certainty, fact) to is someone who decided that O was a great name.

Petri can't remember a damn thing about her life but she's sure she didn't do anything to deserve that.''

In which the Doctor and the Master are both stuck in a convent with nothing else to do but a murder to investigate, ghosts to hunt, and a weird Headmistress to try to figure out. After all, anything's better than having to talk about their missing memories or, Rassilon forbid, their feelings.

Writer @lovethellamas​

''Hi, I'm Alma and I'm in love with two (2) disaster time lords''

Artist @patrexi​

“Hello, I’m Cat! I’m a longtime fan of Doctor Who, but I’ve only recently started interacting with the Doctor Who fandom. It’s been a delight partaking in the 50th Masterversary event as an artist.”

FIC SNIPPET BELOW THE CUT:

''I know I'm saying that a lot,'' O lets out in a hoarse whisper, ''but what the fuck.''

Petri doesn't answer – can only look at the two children running around each other, laughing a laugh she can't hear and shouting names that don't make it past their lips. They are glowing – or rather, they are illuminated, the pale glow stronger around them, shining in the curly hair of the blonde one, dancing in the green eyes of the other one. But Petri can barely make out those colors; they are faded, faltering at the edges, like drawings on the pages of very old books, where the ink has drained out, leaving behind only remnants of pigments barely visible after the centuries. 

Petri takes in a shuddering breath, as the light of the candle goes off, leaving them in the dark with nothing but the pale hue of the apparitions to illuminate the room.

[dwmasters]

And when push comes to shove

[ID: A digital drawing, from the waist up, the twelfth Doctor is shown on the right side. He is tied up to a beige spinning board by the arms and legs, with worried expression in his face, he is wearing black trousers and coat, white shirt and red waistcoat. There's a throwing star very close to his head, and a strand of hair got cut by it. On the left side, Missy is shown standing, wearing her series 10 outfit, with a dagger pointed to The Doctor's throat and a composed but angry expression on her face. /End ID]

And when push comes to shove by @ichabodcranemills

There’s nothing the Master wants more than to kill the Doctor. Sort of. The story of five times when Missy has definitely tried to kill her best enemy and one time she didn't. If the death didn't stick, well, a cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about.

Writer @ichabodcranemills​

“I'm Ana, hopeless Thoschei stan who writes as much fluff as the disasters allow me to.”

Artist @bebela-olf-but-its-my-art-blog

“Hi! I’m Bebela and relative new to the fandom, its amazing to participate in my first event ever for a character that I love so much!”

She hates him. She wishes she could end this here and now. Push him in front of the double-decker bus that’s coming down the street and shoot him mid-regeneration. End this plan, end everything. No cyber army raining from the sky. 

She hates him enough for it. She loves him enough for it. 

But of course she won't. Not just because this is still her past and it is fixed and changing it would unravel the timeline beyond repair. But because she can’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. She will kill the Doctor someday - but not like this. 

That doesn't mean that she can't still push him in front of that bus. 

"But I'm afraid you'll have to forget it, Doctor dear." Her voice is laced with just a smidge of suggestion, not quite a memory erasure. A psychic filter to mess with her appearance in his mind. And of course, something to make him think he tripped instead of being pushed by the lovely lady he'd just been sharing coffee with. 

He frowns, not understanding. She grabs his arm and pushes him into the street as hard as she can before he can do the math.

[dwmasters]

Five times the Master rescued the Doctor, and one time they didn't

[ID: Two images, both digital illustrations from the knees up. The first image is the Third Doctor on the right and Delgado!master on the left, standing back to back while sword fighting unseen villains. The Master is looking over his shoulder at the Doctor and smiling. The second image is Ainley!master carrying the Fifth Doctor over his shoulder, stepping into the open TARDIS. /End ID]

Five times the Master rescued the Doctor, and one time they didn't by @starknight-dreams​

“You quite like him, don’t you? The Doctor, I mean.” Jo studied the Master. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, busying himself at the console. “I’ve been trying to kill him for the last year.” “Not really, you haven’t. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do something really horrible to him and you never do.” The Master didn’t say anything. “Do you know what he said to me, about you, the first time you came to Earth? He said the cosmos would be a duller place without you in it.” “Did he really?” the Master asked eagerly, looking up at Jo. “There, see, you do like him,” she said triumphantly.

In which the Master pretends they could ever choose not to save the Doctor's life, five times over.

Writer: @starknight-dreams​

“Hi, I'm starknight, I'm non-binary, I'm a huge nerd, and I think the master should be in more episodes.” 

Artist: @victoriantrashjohn​

“Hi I’m Amber! I love the master and the doctors dynamic and have been watching doctor who for 9 years!!” 

[dwmasters]

The Takeback Job

[ID: A movie poster-like pencil and pen drawing that is divided into five sections. In the top left section, Missy from Doctor Who, from her knees up. She is wearing her season 10 outfit and standing with her arms crossed in front of a solid light blue background. In the top right corner, the Master from the Doctor Who movie. He is wearing a Gallifreyan robe and a pair of sunglasses in front of a solid light yellow background. In the bottom left section, the Master as portrayed by Sacha Dhawan, wearing his plaid outfit and standing in front of a solid light red background. In the bottom right section, the Master from Scream of the Shalka. He is pictured from the knees up in front of a light green background. The central section is a diamond. In its center, the eighth doctor stands with his back to the viewer in front of an outline of the TARDIS. He is wrapped in his bedsheet. Above his head is the word "the" in all capitals in bold sans serif lettering. Below him are the words "takeback job". "Takeback" is written in lowercase in a script font and "job" is written in the same styling as "the". /End ID]

The Takeback Job by @timelordsandkittens

After the Doctor's regeneration leaves him with a bad case of amnesia, the Master seizes the opportunity to finally be rid of his longtime foe. Unfortunately, after turning the Doctor in to the Judoon, he immediately regrets this decision. It turns out he'll need the help of his other selves in order to fix up this blunder. But will even four of him be able to pull it off?

Writer: @timelordsandkittens

“My name is Elli, and this is my first Big Bang event! It's been so fun getting to write the Master in multiple incarnations!”

Artist: @merrilycompany​

“Hi! I'm Em and I'm your resident theatre freak and fashion historian (: instead of brain there is sondheim musical.”

It was absolutely pitch black in the vents. The only light came from the screwdriver, and even that was red-tinted and dull, only illuminating about a foot ahead. The vents were a little too small for him to even properly crawl through them; he had to inch his way along, hoping that the directions from O were correct. It wouldn’t be smart for O to betray his former self, but in terms of who to betray and how, the Master had to admit that he had never been that smart about it. That was how he’d gotten into this situation, after all.

“Turn left in about three feet,” O’s voice rang in his ear. “It’s going to slope downwards slightly. Be careful.” 

“I’m always careful,” the Master muttered. The fact that he then proceeded to bang his head against the ceiling, which was also sloping downward with the tunnel, would just have to go unmentioned.

[dwmasters]

Saxon and Jones

[ID: A digital illustration of Simm Master wearing his dark grey hoodie. He is crouched in a section of console room that has been temporarily displaced to hover over the TARDIS pool. The section of console room is thin and insubstantial, half there, half not there. The master is looking down at the dark water of the pool, contemplating jumping into it. Behind him is a large oval window, opening up the a stunning sunset cloud landscape The color palette is mostly cold and heavy with blue tones, and the water of the TARDIS pool is a murky dark green. The only truly warm colors are in the section of console room, otherwise the scene looks cold and uninviting. /End ID]

Saxon and Jones by @linz33y​

The Doctor has vanished, and according to whatever “Emergency Program One” is, he’s presumed dead. Not only does this leave the Master trapped aboard the TARDIS on some no-name planet, but he’s also stuck with his second-least-favorite doctor: Martha Jones.

Writer: @linz33y​ “Hey, I'm Linds, and I love all the Doctors and the Masters equally (especially Threegado)"

Artist: @mushigo-palm-spores​ “Hi, I’m mushigo-palm-spores, I dabble in this and that. I kinda bounce between landscape art and figurative art. Amongst other things I’m trying out surreal and otherworldly landscape art.”

Unwilling to face the realization that they were trapped, the Master had mentally run through a list of theories. Maybe the Doctor had been abducted. Snatched by a transmat beam. Sucked under the surface of the sand by some native predator. 

When they first landed, he’d peeked at the life scanners over the Doctor’s shoulder, and everything indicated the planet was uninhabited. It was only now, after digging around in the console for the first time since he'd built his paradox machine and seeing all the new and horrible ways the Doctor had altered the wiring, that he wasn’t even sure which systems could be trusted anymore.

Setting his mouth in a grim line, and he began pulling himself back under the panel, stopping the motion only when Martha spoke again. 

“I really hope you don’t think that in all my time traveling with the Doctor, I just sat around while he did all the actual work.” 

“Actually, Miss Jones,” he said, leaning back on one hand while a nasty smile spread across his face, “I don’t think about you at all.”

[dwmasters]

In Light That Blinds

[ID: Two paintings. The first is a color portrait of Missy, from the neck up, done in watercolors. Her curly, chestnut hair is tied loosely back, long tendrils falling free from its pins and messily falling around her ears. Her expression is tight and lost, a small furrow in her brow, and her eyes are a faint grey-blue, pupils clouded over. The background is made up of dark greys and blacks, tendrils of shadow reaching out from behind to frame her face. The second is a black and white scene of Missy playing the piano, done in watercolors. She is wearing an Edwardian-style dressing gown, which drapes loosely over her body with frills capping the sleeves. Her eyes are closed, and one hand strokes over the keys while the other reaches out wistfully to the music book on the stand, which sits in front of her, closed. A lamp on the piano lights her face and loosely tied hair, casting everything else in shadow. /End ID]

In Light That Blinds by @zabbers

When the Doctor returns to the Vault blind, Missy gives him her sight. But then he comes back with four bullets in him. How much of herself will Missy give him? How close will Missy’s choices bring them, and as they discover the Mondasian colony ship, with the Master on board, what will it mean to be by the Doctor’s side?

Writer: @zabbers “I’m Zabbers, and I’m so pleased to be celebrating the Master’s 50th anniversary with everybody. Here’s hoping for many more!”

Artist: @petercapaldish​ “Hi, I'm Lizzi, and I love painting portraits in watercolour. Missy is my favourite Master, and it was a joy to spend some time with her on this project.”

It starts with the eyes. She can function just as well in the dark, she says. Here, in her limited domain, every object has its place, and she can play the piano, she can pace the perimeter, she can contemplate her sins all without seeing any of it. He’ll bring her new books: aural books, haptic books, telepathic books from his hodgepodge library. He’ll promise not to move things about arbitrarily. She would hear him, anyhow, and know. 

Her world is small, and why should she need to see it? She’s seen it enough, after so many years. She gives him his eyes and then she pulls up her visual memory and she overlays this memory on the physical present and she settles in as though nothing has changed at all. 

He’s her mirror when she asks for it. He sits opposite her and stares into her face, his fingers shifting and fidgeting on her temple.

It’s not a stretch to brush her skirts against his mind, her knuckles against his thoughts. Show me something you’ve seen, she says, out there. And he ought to have done this all along, because there are those stars of his, so much the brighter for his wonder and despair.

[dwmasters]

I may have written a thing for the Fiftieth Masterversary Big Bang, a la @dwmasters, and may be posting twice daily until the 23rd, on which day the final chapter will go up. >.>

So if you’re keen on ~20k of Shalka!husbands stumbling through a rough patch in their marriage, and the Master putting together a playlist, consider giving it a read? =D

[dwmasters]

@dwmasters First chapter of the 50th Masterversary fic is up!

Theta wouldn't call herself an angry person. Restless, maybe. Bitter, perhaps. Contrary, even. But angry was just unfair. After all, there's only so much one can handle when hunting down a serial killer, fending off a face from the past, and ignoring a dead fiancée all at once.

Angry? Pshah.

She's fine, so long as no one minds the bodies in the boot.

[dwmasters]

Happy 50th Masterversary!

There’s nothing the Master wants more than to kill the Doctor. Sort of. The story of five times where Missy has definitely tried to kill her best enemy and one time she didn’t. If the death didn’t stick, well, a cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about.

Chapter 2: Double-decker bus

No, she thinks, Absolutely not. I cannot risk meeting you before time and this you is two whole versions too soon. The less time I spend near you, the better. Besides, you’re all needy and sad and I can’t deal with that right now.

“I’d love that,” is what she says.

[dwmasters]

There’s nothing the Master wants more than to kill the Doctor. Sort of. The story of five times where Missy has definitely tried to kill her best enemy and one time she didn’t. If the death didn’t stick, well, a cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about. 

Happy 50th Masterversary!

@dwmasters