“Only the world? WIFE. I shall be the best dad in ALL THE UNIVERSE. NO, THE MULTIVERSE. I shall change diapers and clean spit up like a warrior! I shall read stories, give piggyback rides, comfort in tears, I SHALL PUT NEW COLONIES, NEW WORLDS, NEW SYSTEMS, IN THE SKY, IN MY ZINNY’S HONOR. I SHALL BUILD CIVILIZATIONS BETTER THAN ANY YOU OR I KNEW, IN WHICH SHE SHALL LIVE. YES!!!!!!! I SHALL PLAY TEA PARTIES AND DOLLIES, AND I, THE MASTER, SHALL CREATE SPOTS OF JOY AND HARMONY IN THE UNIVERSE FOR THIS MIRACLE BABY!”
He feints right out of the conversation with that wearily glorious declaration, complete with a handkerchief (black with a red embroidered M of course) that he places against his brow.
Ever the longsuffering wife, the Doctor rolls her eyes and snatches the handkerchief right out of his hands.
“You should see it when he’s been up all night obsessing over some project. Poor bastard looks like he’s never even heard of a comb.”
“OI, Goose! Nobody ASKED you!”
It’s a wonder he didn’t fall off balance when his wickedly knowing wife interrupted his ridiculous swoon.
@intergalacticstarlight just told me they had a dream involving, among other things, Simm Master in a purple Powerpuff Girls hoodie, and I just wanted to share that with the world lmao.
“Aw Theta, COOM ON,” the Master whines, full-speed ahead, no holds barred, an overgrown toddler. “You’re not really gonna … alright, look, you joost remember, what goes around COOMS around!”
Oh, but she did the scrunchy nose thing. The lethal, inimitable, inalienable scrunchy nose thing. Oh no.
Oh, no.
“ … as you wish, minx.”
He trudges dejectedly toward the wardrobe. He exits, moments later, in honest to God carnation pink t-shirt, jeans, a fluffy skirt of clashing flamingo pink that can pass as a tutu, and a cubic zirconia tiara.
“For you, Doctor, anything,” the couture god glumly declares.
When he steps back out, the Doctor can’t help but dissolve into giggles. Her best friend, her oldest, dearest, closest friend, who was always the more serious and more concerned one between them, dressed in something so utterly ridiculous, just to make her happy. Oh, her hearts could burst right now from sheer delight, and she skips up to him and kisses his cheek sweetly.
“You look beautiful,” she declares, gazing adoringly up at him. “In fact, you can choose my outfit. Whatever you like.”
“I don’t wanna,” he grumps.
It’s the most profound argument he can think to offer, until a thought skims the surface of his mind, like some sort of gull seeking an aquatic lunch.
And the Master looks up at the Doctor, and steeples each individual finger, with fanatical, terrifying glee.
“Unless you actually dress in monochrome, coordinating ALL your patterns, in one of MY suits.”
Oh, dear. This satisfies multiple kinks at once, and he is most delighted.
I know I’ve reblogged this a hundred times but I just pinpointed why I love it so much.
Whenever he says his name it’s with cool composed self-confidence, and surprisingly not theatrical. On the contrary it’s quite factual: “yes, I am superior to you, and yes, I am going to conquer anything in my path. Next.” It hearkens back to Classic Master definitively.
To Delgado!Master, yes. But Ainley was a little idiot and basically the most theatrical idiot I have ever seen! 😀 ❤ He even fell to the floor dramatically!
That is glorious I must watch more Ainley era Master shenanigans…..
Icarus 