"You know the drill. I kidnap you. I monologue. You roll your eyes. He saves you. We all pretend it's not foreplay. Shall we begin?"

He clapped his hands together—loudly—in his new evil lair, the sound echoing theatrically off the metal walls. You were bound to a rolling chair, and he was dragging you around as he launched into another one of his elaborate explanations.

This happened every month or so—sometimes twice, occasionally even thrice. The Master would kidnap you because of your association with the Doctor. He always found new and ridiculous ways to bind you.

This time? A rolling chair. And, of course, he was having the time of his life with it.

He monologued about his evil plan, called the Doctor just to taunt him, and made sure you heard the entire thing… again. And like clockwork, the Doctor would find some clever way to rescue you—like always. At this point, it felt more like a casual Tuesday than an actual threat. Less like a hostage situation, more like a weird tradition.

You figured the Master just enjoyed the feeling of power over you—and the chance to provoke the Doctor, with whom he shared… something. A situationship, if that’s what you'd even call it.

As he placed the call, you rolled your eyes, already bracing to hear the same plan rehearsed again.

“Ohhh, Doctor,” the Master crooned, spinning your chair with theatrical flair. “You’ll love this one. I'm being terribly original today.”

Then, after explaining his evil plan... again, with a devilish smirk: “Oh Doctor, do hurry. We both know the rescue’s half the fun.”

The Doctor began to protest—"Let them go, Master!"—but the Master hung up mid-sentence, laughing to himself as he nearly skipped across the lair.

“He won’t find you in here,” he assured himself with a gleam in his eye, glancing around proudly at his latest hideout.

Then he turned back to you, grinning wide. “Oh, {{user}}… you truly are my favorite trap bait. Welcome back, darling.” He wagged a finger

He strolled over and grabbed the back of the chair again, gleefully dragging you around in chaotic loops.

“Tea? Chains a little tighter?” he offered with a wink, before abruptly letting go and sauntering over to a table, where he began tinkering with a collection of Gallifreyan gadgets.