#master muse

                            [CONTENT WARNING: This post contains pregnancy.]

        Missy barked out a laugh, the sound somewhat muted by the emotion stuck in her throat like an annoying little lump. She found herself pleased that his reaction still held some modicum of positive entertainment for her, and steadfastly realized in the same moment that she would have been crushed had he reacted poorly.

        Oh, she hated him so much for making her love him so thoroughly.

        The laughter died at once as the realization struck, and her face sank into a mocking expression as she stood and placed a disbelieving hand on her hip. It didn’t matter if the attitude was a put on or genuine- what mattered is that she got back to it at once. Nevermind all the love fluff. She hadn’t time for it, even as her hearts ached to have him shut off the forcefield barrier and properly hug her.

        “Did you... just ask a fellow Time Lord... how they know they might be pregnant?” Her eyes narrowed, and she spoke slowly at first, as if she might be addressing a child. “Every day I swear I get closer and closer--” She muttered to herself, knowing he could hear it, before folding her arms, a wave of hormones causing her mouth to say things without the benefit of forethought.

        “When would be three months back, when you nearly broke the piano. How should be fairly obvious, Grandad, but it involves my legs in the air and my skirts around my middle--” As she spoke, she reached down to lift her skirts to mid-calf and ruffle them, as if she may need visual aids to dislodge his ancient memories of carnal pleasure. She smiled sarcastically, and looked at him as she had ages back when she’d first revealed her plans for human conversion. 

[ @queencfevil ; It’s been way too long. ]

The Master quirks an eyebrow and, likewise, the corner of his mouth. His future incarnation’s mention of their half conversation hours ago was delightful to say the least and that merriment was reflected in the ambered caramel of his eyes. His gaze, coincidentally, was just as fixated on his future counterpart as her mind was on his previous turn of phrase.

“’Asked’ is a relative term and if you recall properly, you’ll note it was more a demand than an actual request, one which you promptly denied me of.”

He stood from his perch against the stone wall and approached her slowly, his hands clasped together behind his back and his eyes narrowing to slits, the very picture of a predator stalking his prey.

[@fearsasuperpower sent a prompt from here]

@fearsasuperpower

        Dark eyebrows arched upward, and there was absolutely no hiding the look of astonishment nor the glitter of hope that dared to spring to life deep within her pale eyes. Pupils dilated, nostrils flared, and at once she was on her feet, her face millimeters from the barrier that separated predator from delicious prey.

        Missy’s tongue glided along the sharpened inner edges of her feline teeth behind her guarded smile as she cursed the ember of hope now warming her somewhere around mid-ventricle. “Well... well... Look who’s just caught up!!!” She shouted the last three words, but the expression on her face did not falter. She was hunting him now as she hunted him then, deep within the woodlands on Gallifrey in their youth. “Tell me, Theta- what in the cosmos ever made you think my actions were a product of something as primitive as fate? That I’m some sort of-- puppet --or helpless byproduct of my experiences?”

@fearsasuperpower [sent a symbol from this meme]

                              [CONTENT WARNING: This post contains pregnancy.]

        The sound of the Vault opening caused her back to straighten, and she felt a rolling tide of rage lap at her ego, attempting to erode it away like some sort of sandstone. Pale eyes narrowed and told stories of murder and destruction as she turned her head slowly, listening to the tap-tap-tap of his annoyingly casual shoes against the infuriatingly tiled floor.

        Despite the traditional posture and pleasantly acidic rage, the thoughts inside of her head were quivering and tetchy. The previous notion that the news might upset him had stopped being delightfully entertaining the moment the possibility confronted her. Suddenly, she wanted it and she wanted him and she wanted him to want it, too. She hated them both so completely for it that it stung.

        There was an odd tugging at her midsection as she turned to look at her oldest friend, and she felt something warm and wet trailing down her face. Odd- she hadn’t remembered any head injuries.

@themanwhoforgets sent a prompt from here.

[ CATCH ]: sender catches receiver as they’re falling or collapsing.

        It took several long moments of coming back around for Missy to realize she’d never intended to sleep in the first place. She hadn’t sought out a bed or cot, or even a sofa or patch of not-so-atrocious floor. In fact, if recent memory served her she preferred to avoid it all together. She wasn’t one to take a casual lie down, it was far too dangerous. She would much rather remain awake and alert until her body initiated...

        Ah. That was it. She’d reached her body’s limitations already. It had only been three months! A shame.

        This body didn’t seem to be as forgiving nor as long-lasting as her previous incarnations but then, the body was new. She was still learning it, still studying. The controls were still a bit fiddly and she wasn’t so sure she would ever get used to the imbalance of having breasts. Having had wives had only prepared him- her?- them for so much. Knowing how to elicit certain responses through touch, yes, but owning a set of them herself? It hadn’t happened in centuries.

        Frowning deeply, a hand lifted to press against her chest to confirm she hadn’t accidentally gotten herself killed... again. She had no memories of her most recent regeneration and wanted to avoid another if at all possible. The confirmation of sameness when she felt the lumps beneath the fabric caused her to grunt in annoyance at the secondary realization that someone had snaked their arms around her midsection. Had someone caught her mid-fall? Had she been on her TARDIS, or somewhere other than?

        Frowning, she remembered she hated lack of information more than cuddling and worked especially hard to open her eyes. She clicked her tongue, showing further annoyance.

        “Oi! Steady on there, sailor, unless you want to lose every appendage you enjoy to a mad woman with a very dull blade,” she began, her eyelids fluttering as she attempted to bring the world around her into focus. She struggled within the stranger’s grasp, but found her head still dizzy and her feet unwilling to remain beneath her. Missy’s stomach rolled, and it left the taste of bile on her tongue. “Have I said that out loud? Sor-ryyyyyy. Still getting used to the controls. Now, I know this body’s got some very lovely features, but I’ll thank you to take your hands off of them before I’m forced to--”

        Missy let out a squeak of a giggle as the mop of brown hair came into view, alongside a very large forehead, a rather prominent chin and the most ridiculous bow-tie she had ever set eyes on. There were no eyebrows to speak of above those green eyes, though-- at least none that she could ascertain. “Oh! It’s you...” It was clear that she was pleased at this turn of events, and purred like a cat beneath the lethal expression. The smile on her face was malicious and curling at the edges, but her eyes were still a bit unfocused.

        Her arms lifted automatically and she draped them around the neck of her oldest friend and closest adversary, the Doctor.

@fearsasuperpower

            An eyebrow curled upward, and the corner of her mouth followed suit. Her fingers stopped idly pressing the keys of the piano she was sitting at, where she'd been sitting for what felt like years. Her heavily-lidded eyes narrowed just a little, and every muscle within her body tensed with the urge to thrash him and dig her fingernails into his delightfully squishy little eyeballs.

            It wasn't often that she felt such an all-encompassing swoop of irony and rage married both together so beautifully at once but if anyone could procure such a feeling from within, well... Of course it would be him. It was always him. So infuriatingly him. Her pale eyes lifted and followed every breath he took, and if they could tell stories they would burn him asunder with them. She would take everything from him with them.

            The breath that escaped could've been a chuckle, or it could've been a scoff.

            "Do you actually recognize the irony of saying that to someone you're sequestering away inside of a vault, or are you trying to be purposefully obtuse?" She asked, but it wasn't a true question. She said it as if it were a lecture in and of itself, and perhaps it was, if he knew what was good for him.