I’m In The Middle Of Writing A Dhawan!Master X Reader Fic And It Is Already Around 4,500 Words Long!

Aftercare, I Love You

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary - Just an aftercare blurb with Eddie

Warnings - references to sex but no actual sex(minors please do not interact)

Word Count - 445

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. I hope that you enjoy this!

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You twirled a piece of Eddie’s hair, that had fallen on top of his chest, between your fingers. You smiled blissfully upon recalling how about an hour ago, a similar strand of hair kept falling in your face as Eddie pistoned into you from above. You felt Eddie kiss your forehead a couple of times as he rubbed your back.

No matter how passionate or rough your sex could become, Eddie would always be so calm and peaceful when performing aftercare. You always tried to give him the same comfort, but when he made you so weak, it was sometimes hard to deliver. Eddie always reassured you, though, that he just wanted to have your company and to lie in your arms for as long as possible. If he needed anything else, he would tell you.

You softly kissed the tattoo on his left pectoral muscle, and then you kissed the spider tattoo under his collarbone. Eddie slid his hand soothingly up and down your bare back. With his other hand, Eddie tilted your head up so you were now looking up at him.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked with a slightly raspy voice.

“You tell me anything, Eddie.”

“I think … I think I love you.” You looked up at him, shocked. You and Eddie hadn’t really put labels on your relationship, but, despite that, of course you love the dorky dungeon master.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just thought you should know.” Eddie mumbles softly. 

You could tell from the blush blooming on Eddie’s face and neck, and his frantically moving hands, that he was becoming flustered and regretful of what he just confessed. Eddie had nothing to be regretful over, however. You obviously felt the same way. How could you not? So, you bolted up to kiss Eddie squarely on the mouth, effectively stopping his nervous ramblings and knocking him back against the pillows with a shocked yelp in the process.

“I love you, too, Eddie Munson!” You pulled far enough away from his face to see his expression change from one of worry to an expression of complete and utter joy. A wide smile etched across his face as he wrapped his arms around you and flipped you over onto your back. 

“Well, in that case. How about a celebratory round two?”

“I’d love that, Rockstar!” Eddie’s face burst into a wide grin, again, before he dived toward your neck and began to suck fresh hickeys onto your soft flesh. You giggled at Eddie’s easily excitable nature while quickly burying your hands in Eddie’s wild mane of hair. Tonight was definitely going to be a long night.

I probably won’t be posting a fic or a blurb until this weekend or next week.

The next couple of days are just a bit hectic and I have to work and catch up on some things.

So, the editing process of the fics and blurbs I have lined up will take longer for me to complete.

But I will post some things soon ish!

- Ghost

I was looking up the language of flowers for an upcoming fic I am writing and I found this on Wikipedia ...

“In J. K. Rowling's 1997 novel Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Professor Severus Snape uses the language of flowers to express regret and mourning for the death of Lily Potter, his childhood friend and Harry Potter's mother, according to Pottermore.”

Why do I not remember this? Is this true?

If it is true, part of me wants to reference this in my fic.

I really need to stop forgetting that I have left stuff in my queue

Hi :)

Does anyone know where I can watch the 2018 or 2019 Les Misérables with Joseph Quinn for cheap or for free?

I want to watch it for Joseph, but I also want to write some Enjolras fanfic.

-Ghost

new babygirl just dropped <3

Happy first day of Hanukkah to all of my Jewish followers that celebrate!

Current Fic Posting Schedule*

Planned Post Date

Tuesday, 22 October 2024

Pumpkin Dreams - Simm!Master x Reader --- POSTED

Wednesday, 23 October 2024

Wait, This Is Good! - Whittaker!Doctor x Reader --- POSTED

Thursday, 24 October 2024

Tender Is The Touch - Dhawan!Master x Reader

Music Is Subjective - Maestro x Reader

Friday, 25 October 2024

Not Titled Yet - Dhawan!Master x Reader

Not Titled Yet - Any Doctor x Reader

Monday, 28 October 2024

This Is Impossible - Whittaker!Doctor x Reader

Coincidence, Right? - Eccleston!Doctor x Reader

Trouble Sleeping - Tennant!Doctor x Reader

Tuesday, 29, October 2024

Jump In The Line, Or Rather Leaves - Smith!Doctor x Reader

Wednesday, 30 October 2024

Not Titled Yet - Dhawan!Master x Reader

Relaxing Confessions - Whittaker!Doctor x Reader

Thursday, 31 October 2024

Fallen Leaf Hair - Maestro x Reader

Not Titled Yet - Smith!Doctor x Reader

Friday, 1 November 2024

Not Titled Yet - Dhawan!Master x Reader

*This will be edited if anything changes and either updated (if people like this system) or deleted.

*** Also this does include the Autumnal Bash fics

Back In The Old Cemetery

Dhawan!Master x Reader - Previous Gomez!Master x Reader

Summary - On the anniversary of Missy’s death, you go to a nearby cemetery in order to remember and honour Missy in some way. However, you keep running into a random man throughout the day who seems determined to talk to you.

Based On This Request - Anonymous said - “Recently read “Did You Miss Me?” on your old blog, honestly amazing. If you’re open to it, may I request a similar scenario between Dhawan!Master x Reader? Maybe where they reunite for the first time after Missy’s death and admit they both still love each other despite the regeneration?”

Warnings - canon typical violence, references to season 10, descriptions of character death, romantic loss, sadness/depression, let me know if I missed anything and I will add it

Word Count - 4593

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader (but is referenced to own and be comfortable with wearing makeup). Requested by this lovely anon! Use of Y/n. Proofread but not beta read. I hope that you enjoy this! :) 

This is loosely inspired by Hunter’s Moon by Ghost, primarily the second verse and just other Ghost songs and their vibe because I am obsessed with them.

Also, I’m sorry that this took so long. I was not having a great past couple of years. But I really appreciate the love for my old series(which I am slowly rewriting) and thank you so much for this request! I really hope that you enjoy this! :)

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You felt like you were being watched. You had been feeling this way for a while now, at least for the past couple of months. You just chalked it up to a bout of heightened anxiety, however, due to the camera-filled and 24/7 news cycle-filled world that you now reluctantly called home. Life was so much simpler on The Master’s TARDIS. 

It was ironic that her space was so calming given the nature of The Master and her chaotic lifestyle, but Missy’s ship was. The previous life and relationship you had with her always quelled any latent anxiety you felt about your home planet and people. Your life, alone on Earth, without The Master could never compare to the time you spent with her. Without Missy, you only became more aware of how miserable Earth could be at times. And despite her disdain for the majority of Humanity, you could tolerate your people more effortlessly with Missy’s help than you ever could manage without her presence in your life. She helped you with so much, but now she was gone forever.

You never properly entertained the thought that you were actually being followed, but as Missy had told you often, you were naively unaware of your ability to attract curious eyes. Missy had meant that as a compliment, despite the ominous tone. That is how she became fascinated with you, after all; by observing your quirks and interests from afar until she finally made herself known to you. You were simply just anxious without Missy. Simply anxious about being in a messy world without your person to help you sort out the mess. You weren’t actually being followed, right? The Doctor, even though you weren’t close, would step in, wouldn’t she? Especially after what happened to The Master and how the news affected you, right? You were just anxious, is all.

But if you were being followed, it wouldn’t be Missy playing a little trick on you. It couldn’t be her. She’s gone and she would never be coming back for you. The likelihood is that either your imagination was getting to you, or an enemy of either The Doctor or The Master was out to get you. Or it was just some random human being a creep. But it definitely wasn’t Missy. She died: that’s what The Doctor told you. Missy died alone and without you there to save or comfort her. And you knew The Doctor wasn’t lying about the fact that Missy was gone forever because she would have come to reunite herself with you if she was alive. But again, Missy died. You had to keep reminding yourself of that fact: Missy is dead. She’s gone. She’s never coming to save you. Ever again. 

Today was the anniversary of when the newly regenerated Doctor informed you of the tragic news that Missy had died. The sentimentalist in you needed to mourn today, however, your plans to celebrate Missy’s memory added to your anxiety. You needed to honour Missy for yourself, but what if there was someone out there in your town, or the world, or the universe trying to get you? Today would be the perfect opportunity for an enemy to hurt you when you were already emotional and susceptible. 

Eventually, though, you did convince yourself to leave your apartment. Today was for Missy, after all, not you. When the date caught your attention a couple of weeks ago, the first step of your plan was to go to Missy’s old Human job from when you first met. You would be torturing yourself by doing this, but you needed to purchase two bouquets of flowers. After purchasing your mournful bounty, you would walk to the nearest cemetery. Then, at the cemetery, you would leave one bouquet in remembrance of your beloved Master while taking the other bouquet home with you to memorialise Missy there as well. You even considered preserving it so you could have an idol of memories for longer.

Looking back on your history with The Master, it was probably an incredibly bleak omen for your relationship with her, but during Missy’s lunch breaks and on your travels home from work, the two of you would stride through the little parklike cemetery just around the corner from the shopping centre. Both of you would always be incredibly surprised by how beautiful the cemetery was; there was an assortment of trees that would offer ample shade to the gravestones and there was a winding cobblestone path fenced by flowers throughout. There was also a tall, cleanly cut hedge that bordered the whole property, alongside the iron gates delicately surrounding the cemetery. 

Missy genuinely loved that little cemetery. Before you knew that she was an alien, she would often say that this cemetery was the most beautiful thing on Earth, other than you. You always asked her how she could possibly know every place on the planet, to which she would only wink at you teasingly. After discovering her true nature, her statement made more sense but you still wondered why this cemetery was so special to Missy. She could travel anywhere she wished, in all time and space. It never failed to shock you that The Master, the infamous rogue Gallifreyian, would treasure such a simple place. So where else you would go to mournfully celebrate her beautifully chaotic life? In your mind, there was no other option.

When you walked toward the small town shopping centre where Missy cemented her Human facade, you wrapped your coat tighter around your torso. You were cold, yes, but you needed something to hold onto to brave all of the resurfacing memories. You sighed deeply when you entered the shop and then briskly moved to the shop's mediocre selection of flowers without looking up from your feet. 

The flower options and pre-arranged bouquets always looked more expensive and put together, even well into the winter, when Missy was working here. All of the bouquets she gave you were of the best quality. 

“Never less than the best for you, my love,” Missy would always respond with this line when you complained that you didn’t need anything fancy.

Missy might have lied about buying flowers from this little shop, now that you thought about it. But you would rather choose to believe that Missy manipulated her “superiors” into buying and displaying more expensive bouquets and flowers to enhance the reputation of the place rather than her lying to you.

“Excuse me?” A voice sounded to your side, tearing you away from your thoughts of Missy. You turned sharply to the person trying to get your attention. He was a man a couple of inches taller than Missy with mesmerising dark amber, mixed with coffee and chocolate, eyes that were filled with care. He was wearing a button-down, slacks, and a heavy-looking deep purple coat, which seemed a bit out of place given the weather hadn’t turned properly cold yet. Maybe the man just ran cold?

“I think you dropped this.” The man held out a case of lipstick, intending to return it to you. You were shocked, still disoriented from being ripped out of your thoughts. You accepted the lipstick with a curt ‘thank you’, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through you when your hand accidentally brushed against the stranger’s fingers.

You immediately turned back to the display of bouquets before you, gripping the case of lipstick tightly in your hand. You had assumed that the man had left to either look around the shop or to leave, but to your horror, he continued to stand beside you. He returned your item. So, why hadn't he left yet? You just wanted him to leave your side. You didn’t want to interact with anyone more than you had to today. Today was too horrible for you to pretend to be friendly with strangers. 

“Looking for anything specific?” The man asked after an agonising silence from the two of you just standing side by side in front of the flower display. He didn’t sound creepy like many people, usually men, sounded in situations like this, making you believe that he was actually curious. Even if he had good intentions, that didn’t dissolve your desire to be left alone, but you tried to be as nice as you could today.

“Something respectful. Not gaudy or obnoxiously and obviously meant to be gifted as an attempt to woo a Tinder match on a first date.”

“So like, cemetery flowers?” You whipped your head back to look at the stranger because of that question. Could he see your plan on your face or in your posture?  How could he tell what your intentions were? The stranger shrugged his shoulders, almost as if he heard your thoughts. 

“Yes, cemetery flowers.”

“These are quite smart. Whoever you are planning on visiting would love to have these on their grave.” The man plucked a bouquet wrapped in dark red wrapping from the shelf. The bouquet consisted primarily of fresh crimson roses and red salvia, with sprigs of baby’s breath and forget-me-nots to round out the assortment. When they were in shadow, the roses practically looked like dried blood, which thanks to Missy you knew what that looked like a bit too well. 

You paused, sucked in a breath, shocked by the man’s forward nature. Then you quickly grabbed the flowers, shoved the lipstick into your coat pocket and moved to purchase the bouquet without another word being given to the stranger. You hoped that the man would have left the store by the time you had finished purchasing the flowers, however, he stopped you once again by the exit of the shop.

“I hope you have a good time at the cemetery.” He said, smiling, as if this was an everyday occurrence, but, like before, you didn’t respond. You rushed out of the shop so overcome with a torrent of emotions. You just needed to get out of there. You didn’t even realise until you were far away from the shops and the stranger that you failed to choose a second bouquet for yourself. You hoped that the second bouquet would be one similar to the ones Missy would gift to you, but because of that strange man part of your plan for the day was ruined. You would have to go back to the shops tomorrow.

Eventually, you slowed to a meditative walking pace on your way to the cemetery. After many deep breaths, you managed to decrease and steady your erratic breath and rapid heart rate. You tried to forget your interaction with the stranger and just refocus your mind on Missy: the good, the bad, the happy and the sad, all of your time with her. You just wanted to be surrounded by the memory of your lover, in general, but also to remember her existence in the most reverent way possible. Even though the weight of her memory was a heavy burden to carry, you had to do this for her.

Halfway to the cemetery, the moon emerged from its hiding spot behind a cloud. It was still light out, but the full specialness of the day became apparent to you. The orangy-red hue of the night’s Hunter’s Moon was soft but you imagined that it would darken and grow deeper in tone the longer it hung in the evening air into the night. Apparently, even your solar system wanted to help you mourn the loss of Missy. 

Along with cemeteries, Missy loved abnormal moons. She would always drag you out of your apartment or plead with you to retrieve her from The Vault in a basement at St. Luke’s University so the two of you could go stargazing, or moongazing as it were. She loved Hunter’s Moons in particular, both because of the season they appeared in, but also because of the eerie atmosphere. 

You finally entered the cemetery through the tall and squeaky black gates that enclosed the cemetery just as it was beginning to grow dark outside. After walking along the pathway for a few minutes, you saw the familiar bench where you and Missy would always sit. 

Once you took a seat on the bench, you looked around the large, enclosed, cemetery. It had been a little over a year since you had been here last and you realised how much you missed this place. It truly was beautiful, in the gloomy and bittersweet way that many cemeteries were, but beautiful nonetheless. 

You wished that you could have something tangible to remember Missy’s death and life. A trinket or object of Missy’s that would now be yours. Like all of the families that had loved ones buried in this place, they had something more tangible than you did. You wanted what they had. Even though death is never easy, their situations were easier to comprehend than yours. Missy died on a spaceship in the future galaxies away from Earth. You had nothing left of her and it felt as if nothing ever happened because of it. 

Suddenly, you remembered the lipstick that the stranger had returned to you. You removed it from the pocket you had hidden it in in the rush of everything. You stared at the lipstick, curiously. The item definitely wasn’t yours. It looked like the one Missy would always use. But how could the stranger have this? Was Missy’s lipstick in your coat pocket this entire time? That didn’t make sense. You had worn this coat before and the lipstick wasn’t in any of the pockets. Not to mention the fact that Missy never went anywhere without her lipstick. It was unlikely that she would ever ask you to carry it for her.

You stared at the lipstick in your palm and reminisced about a random night when Missy was trapped on Earth. It was the night of a Hunter’s Moon, just like the one you sat under tonight. The Doctor graciously allowed Missy to leave The Vault for a night so the two of you could celebrate your anniversary.

The two of you went to a fancy restaurant that was far too expensive for you, but Missy took care of the bill as it was meaningless. Given her motto, any expense might have been excusable to The Master if you were the one asking for or needing something. After your meal, you somehow convinced Missy to go to a club. You bribed her by stating that she had never been to a Human club before. So why not go to one with you? Finally, the two of you drunkenly stumbled through your favourite cemetery under the light of the blood-orange moon while sharing a bottle of Asgardian mead that Missy had apparently stolen from the halls of Valhalla. At the time, you didn’t know whether or not to believe her because of how drunk she was, she easily could have been exaggerating. You later asked The Doctor about her story and to your delight, and The Doctor’s embarrassment, the story was real and unembellished. 

You and Missy had briefly stopped at the bench you were now sitting on. You probably wouldn’t have recognised the bench after your drunken night out except for the fact that Missy carved your and her names onto the arm of the bench. Your names were intertwined in typical Gallifreyian marriage writing, where the names are entwined together to signify the bond between those in the relationship. 

Despite the momentary rest, you had to beg Missy to return to The Vault that day because you were cold and your feet hurt. Missy never wanted that night to end but you promised to cuddle her for at least two hours before leaving for your apartment. You wished that you could stay, but The Doctor hadn’t allowed you to stay the night in The Vault. 

After much convincing, your stubborn alien lover eventually agreed to your deal. Before leaving the cemetery though, Missy reapplied her lipstick and then kissed you all over your face and neck. You had to return Missy to The Vault in that state, much to The Doctor’s disgust. It was a great memory and a great day that you wished you could replicate with Missy. It saddened you to no end that you would never be able to do that, though. The Master was dead. 

“May I sit here?” The voice of a man broke you out of your haze. No, not any man, the man. The stranger from the little shop that Missy used to work at was standing beside the empty seat on the bench.

“Did you follow me?” You shot back, angrier than you intended because he tore you away from Missy again. But this was all just too strange to not be angry about.

“Would a normal person follow a stranger into a cemetery?” 

“No, but whoever said that you were a normal person?”

“What’s the fun in being normal?” The man crossed his arms with a smirk. You turned away in order to hide your slight smile. He was fun, you had to give him that, even though it upset you to admit this.

“People might trust you more.” You said after you regained your composure. 

“The only person I want to trust me is you.” Again, you were shocked by the man and his forwardness, which appeared to be becoming a regular occurrence.

“Are you chatting me up in a cemetery?” 

“Is it working?” The man’s smirk grew confidently and part of you just couldn’t resist his smile. You sighed defeatedly. You scooted over a bit on the bench to be closer to the carved arm and to allow enough space for the stranger to sit comfortably. You looked up to the moon as the man sat down. The Hunter’s Moon was now a deep orange with tones of red around the edges. There was another strange silence haunting the air between the two of you, until the man ruined it. You were starting to become used to this stranger’s habit of randomly breaking silences.

“Are you here for someone?” He sounded kinder, softer, than he did what asking you questions at the shop.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“That’s because you’re interesting.” The man bumped your shoulder with his. You hummed sceptically. This man, though intriguing, was like no person you ever met. He didn’t seem to care about social norms or what society deemed to be acceptable. Who else would flirt in a cemetery? Well, Missy would, but she was an alien. 

“I’m kind of here for someone, yes. Their body isn’t here, but I like coming here, or any other cemetery really, to remember my person. I haven’t been to this cemetery in a while though, memories and all that, but I knew that I needed to be here tonight. What about you?” 

“Yes, I’m here for someone, too.” 

“I’m sorry.” You meant this genuinely. You didn’t know the man beside you and he had a propensity for behaving in an unorthodox manner, but he was still a person. You knew how hard it was to lose someone and you would never want to belittle someone’s grief. You locked eyes with this stranger for the first time since the moment in the little shop and held his gaze. You found it to be bizarre to feel so connected to a stranger but here you were talking to this man about Missy. You barely even talked about her to your best friends.

“There is no need for you to apologise, love. You weren’t the one to rip me away from the person I care about the most.” He bumped your shoulder again. Given the fact that you were facing each other now, you couldn’t take the intensity of being so close to the man. So, you looked away, flustered.

“Wow, I never thought I would have so much in common with a stranger in a cemetery.” You joked. You leaned over the arm of the bench slightly to move away from the man. You didn’t want to disgrace The Master’s memory in any way; it would be best to keep this stranger at a distance. To comfort yourself, you ran your hand over the carving Missy made, trying to commit the pattern to your mind to the best of your ability.

“You never know, you could meet the love of your life anywhere. A little shop, for instance.” The man still sounded positive despite your slightly uncomfortable demeanour. You liked this man, but you were worried that you were disrespecting Missy by even entertaining the idea of seeing someone else. How could you even be with someone else after The Master?

“Yeah, a little shop meet cute …” You traced the carving again absentmindedly while staring at the moon and the clouds passing over it. But the man once again distracted you from your sadness, though it wasn’t because of something he said like the many, many times before. Instead, the stranger pulled out a pocket watch that looked suspiciously too familiar. 

“Where did you get that?” You grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled his hand, and inadvertently him, closer to you in order to inspect the watch. It was old, properly old, not just decorated to look like an antique. It looked identical to The Master’s watch.

“Oh this, I’ve always had it. Since I was a child, an orphan, abandoned, found in the storm.” Missy had told you stories about her past, one of which was when she, he then, had been hiding in a Human form at the end of the Universe. You turned the watch over in the man’s hand and saw the circular Gallifreyian carved into the back of the object. You tentatively ran your finger over the writing, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“This is not possible.” You croaked, still looking at the watch in the man’s steady hand. How could the man beside you have Missy’s watch? Unless they survived. Unless she regenerated. But The Doctor said they died. She was certain that they died and would not be returning. Could The Master really be alive?

“Y/n, love, anything is possible.” The man whispered in your ear as you felt him move and place his arm around your back. He softly rubbed circles on your back but you didn’t feel it. You felt like your world was spinning and nothing was certain any more.

“It’s not you. It can’t be.” You shook your head. This couldn’t be possible. Your grip on the man’s watch and hand tightened when you finally looked up at him, scared. When you looked into his eyes, that’s when you began crying. He looked so worried for you, but there was hope and love laced into the look he gave you. You shook your head, still not convinced that The Master was really stilling beside you, holding you. But The Master nodded and smiled.

“It’s really me, darling. I swear on lipstick and Asgardian mead. Nothing in this Universe, any Universe, could ever keep me away from you.” The Master wanted to wipe your tears from your face, but before he could you jumped into The Master’s arms and practically knocked him over into the other arm of the bench due to the force of your hug.

“Master, is it really you?” You asked into his shoulder, not able to control the crazy mix of joy and sadness you felt. 

“Of course it’s me, darling. You didn’t really think that I would just leave you on this miserable planet alone, did you?” The Master caressed the back of your head and every so often placed a kiss on the side of your face. 

“But how? The Doctor said -” You shoved yourself away from The Master wanting a clear answer, but he cut off your excited questioning.

“The Doctor is often wrong, especially about me.” The Master smiled and winked at you triumphantly. You let out an ecstatic noise that you had never made before in your life and hurled yourself into The Master for another bruising hug.

“Can we go home now?” You mumbled into The Master’s purple coat.

“We?” The Master asked hesitantly.

“Yes, why not we?” You pulled back from The Master again with a worried look written on your face. You couldn’t help but be a bit worried after everything. The Master had just returned to you, you didn’t want to lose him again so soon.

“You aren’t bothered by my new form?” The Master questioned while gesturing to himself.

“No, you’re still The Master. You’re still my Master.” The Master smirked before leaning close to you. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew that I loved you for a reason.”

“I love you so much. And I’ve missed you so much, Master.”

“Well, no more missing me. We are together now and nothing is going to rip me away from you ever again, and you are right, we should go home. It has been far, far, too long.” The Master removed himself from your arms and stood from the bench. He held his hand out for you, wiggling his fingers enthusiastically. You gladly accepted his offer and then proceeded to interlock your fingers.

“Before we get to my TARDIS, I should warn you that the ship looks quite different to how you will remember it.” The Master informed you as the two of you walked down the cobblestone path toward the gates of the cemetery. 

“That’s okay.” You said into The Master’s shoulder as you braced your body against his to withstand the massive gust of wind that blew through the gates of the cemetery. The rest of autumn appeared like it was going to be a cold one.

“Really? You’re comfortable with everything being so different. I thought that you would be having a more difficult time with this.” The Master shed his coat and placed it around your shoulders. 

“Change is easier with you, Master. And I would rather have you in my life in a different form than not in my life at all.” You cuddled into the rouge alien’s coat. He, like his previous regeneration, smelled of smoke and whiskey. Missy also smelled like cranberries, whereas this new regeneration of The Master slightly smelled like cinnamon in combination with the whiskey and smoke.

“My previous regeneration would have made fun of your sentimentality, but this regeneration loves the attention.”

“Good! There is a year’s worth of affection that you missed out on.”

When the two of you reached the door of The TARDIS, which now appeared as a large home rather than Missy’s preferred look of a wardrobe, The Master stopped you and caressed a hand down your face. His eyes, though very different than Missy’s, displayed the same devotion and love for you. Things change, but at the same time, everything stays. The Master was still your Master, just in a different package. And you still loved them, no matter what they looked like.

The Master finally leant forward and captured your lips in a passionate kiss filled with all the love and longing he held for you, as the night’s Hunter’s Moon cast a warm glow upon the two of you. There will be so much adjustment ahead of you both, but you know that you will be able to succeed and overcome the difficulties to come as long as you and The Master are together.

Just a reminder, I will be closing my requests in a couple of days. So, if you have any requests that you would like me to write (or headcanons that you would like to share, etc) send them my way!