Because I discovered this song the other day, and was blown over by the sheer D/M-ness of it.  And because I like sharing these things.  And hell, perhaps it will prompt ideas for fic!  Or rp!  Or... whatever.  Also, I may be posting more strikingly appropriate lyrics at some point.  Because  I can.

( 'Dead is the New Alive'- Emilie Autumn )

Because, well, it's the Master, and I couldn't resist.

If you want to have your pup have some sort of sexual relations with mine, comment here! I'll write a drabble/short fiction makin' it happen!

Continued from here

The Master grins hugely when Ianto finally concedes.  Because yes, that is a concession, no matter how much grump and snark he might cloak it in; the tricky part's over.  But hmm, where to take him now?  That's something different.  The bedroom in his TARDIS is for seductions, things that pretend at being meaningful, and that, this is most certainly not.  But something personal, at least to Ianto.  Someplace that means something to him, someplace he has to see on a fairly regular basis, at the very least.

Maybe shag him on the very same bed he's had Captain Viagra on, ooh, yes, there is something to be said for that.  That extra, added punch of guilt that would just make things so much more entertaining.

'Gladly,' he purrs, shifting just slightly to reach into the inside pocket of his jacket.  A moment of searching provides him with what he's looking for- handy dandy little spaciotemporal dislocator- and he kisses him again, indolent and amused, pushing his head back against the wall.   A moment later, he's got Ianto pressed up against a different wall entirely.  It's cool, white-tiled, and the air around them hums with the absent, muttering white noise of machinery, the faint scent of dank, underground water and concrete.

It is, of course, the Hub, and the Master has Ianto against the wall right under the D in Torchwood.  They still haven't stopped kissing.  Though, the Master expects, Ianto might have something to say about that.

The DOCTOR WHO MUSE LOVE FRIENDING MEME Come here and meet/share love in the Who-niverse

That's right, you've seen it on all your f'lists, and in the noble tradition of being way the hell behind the times, I am now posting it myself.   Because I think it's a lovely idea, and very much in keeping with the sort of giving culture that fandom is.  I'm all about giving.  We're just one giant fuck-off hippy commune, that's what fandom is. 

*ahem*

Anyway- the sign on the side of the bandwagon reads:

FEED ME INSPIRATION. 

pls.

If you have anything you'd like to see from my Master- a pairing, an image, a line you'd like to hear him say- anything at all.  From complete and utter crack to the deep and philosophical.  See if you can inspire me into writing actual fic for him and overcoming the damnable writer's block that's plagued me of late.  

*dances off*

Oh, why not?  Time of the year and all that.  And I know everybody loves the Mister Master.



Get your own valentinr

Huzzah for more theoretical chat!  This is another one with the charming watch_is_me , starting off with her theorising that her Doctor actually is the Master.  Or was the Master, once upon a time, and is now some kind of twisted amalgam of both Doctor and Master.  It is thoroughly interesting, and I call it a concept worthy of further exploration.  As for the Master, he's not really sure how he feels about it at all.  Poor chap, watch_is_me  often confuses him, but this is even worse than usual.

Jasper: ...I had this idea of AUing my own AU earlier, where my Doctor figures out he hears the drums because he actually *is* the Master, the Master having taken over the Doctor's body to survive the Time War (since in my fanon, the Doctor was the only one who'd be in any position to survive the War, since he's chosen to trigger the Eye of Harmony--ye olde 'eye of the storm' effect--and the Master'd learned about this ahead of time and decided he wanted to survive, dammit, because that's what he does). And he had to really be convincingly the Doctor for the Council to go ahead with the plan, so he subsumed his personality as far as he could, set it up to assert itself gradually, later. Which it does, in pieces, with the drums and the sliding towards violence, and in dreams. But it integrates instead of taking over, which wasn't the plan, and so you've got this new person who's kind of both of them and kind of someone new. I may write fic about this, or just ramble in AIM!

( The Master can almost see it, the memories of his Self fighting to assert themselves against the Doctor's consciousness. The expression on the face even changes, a smirk twisting the mouth to one side that is decidedly the Master, before it melts back into distrust, and the Doctor's looking at him, on edge, confused, fearful. )

Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlefolk, it's comm-pimping time. 

montwick_rp </span>

It's steampunky, it's fab, and it's just trying to get off its feet, the poor thing.  Could do with a few more people coming in from here and there to liven things up.  At the moment, the cast is small, but I'd totally recommend taking a glim if you're at all interested.  I mean, really, steampunk!   Doesn't get any better than that.

*lures people in with sweets*

You thought that last one was fluffy?  That has nothing on this one; I have no idea where all this weird fluff and sweetness is coming from, but I'm enjoying it, certainly.  This sprang from the last chatplay from me and watch_is_me , with the Master fobwatched into Harry Saxon- talk was had, and we ended up with both of them fobwatched, John Smith and Harold Saxon, and living and romancing in 1913.  They talk about dreams of travel and the headaches Harry suffers occasionally.   And snog up against stone walls under the stars.  THE FLUFF!  IT'S RIDICULOUS

I left in the beginning bit, even though it's us leading up to the chaplay, because I felt that the thought process there was important for understanding where the chatplay came from.  The snippets I c/p are from an older chatplay with my friend earlwyn  and myself.  She gets all due credit, because she is of the awesome.

Comments are love!

At precisely three o'clock in the afternoon, on- what is to Arthur Eddington, at least- the next day, a stray grandfather clock appears in his study.  Not to say that it simply blinks into existence with no fanfare whatsoever; it's accompanied by a strange, grinding noise that echoes faintly off the floorboards, and a glowing from behind the face of the clock, but after a moment, there it is, installed quite neatly against one wall as if it had always stood there. 

It is, of course, not actually a grandfather clock.  It is, in fact, a time and space ship, Lolita by name, and is much bigger on the inside.  It belongs to the Time Lord known as the Master, and it is the Master who steps out of it now, looking terribly pleased with himself, and tugging on his lapels.  The jacket those lapels belong to is a dark, charcoal grey, and is perfectly period-appropriate.  Paired with a waistcoat of pale blue silk, the Master is looking positively dashing, and when he sees Arthur sitting at his desk, engrossed (unsurprisingly) in papers and notes, brow furrowed and lip pouting slightly, he grins hugely. 

'Mr. Eddington!  Don't tell me you forgot; so immersed in your studies.  I might be insulted.'

He's still grinning, though, which rather suggests that he wouldn't be at all.

Continued from here

( He doesn't really give a toss whether the Doctor kisses back. It's a statement more than anything else, after all; I'm not giving up that easily, I am not the Master, I am not going to be a slave to this thing.  )

This is Epic Chatplay- capitalised for a reason there, folks- from myself and watch_is_me , in which we explore a possible ending to your standard Master/Doctor-in-the-TARDIS scenario, wherein the Doctor uses the Chameleon Arch on the Master (for his own good, of course) and turns him into a human- Harry Saxon. I'd ventured into this territory ages ago, in the form of still-uncompleted fic, but that was from a Master/Lucy perspective, so I was very curious about how it would change with the dynamic - and the setting- of Doctor/Master.

It is a bit ridiculously fluffy in places, but I justify the fluff by the underlying tragedy that permeates the entire thing. So! Please do read, and I'd love feedback.  Obviously, writing Harry Saxon is not writing the Master, and as such, is something a bit new to me.

Posted in two bits, 'cos it's too long for one post, apparently.

</lj>( 'You were a friend, you were like me, and that ended. Because you hurt too many people and you wouldn't be helped.' )Continued here