#Missy the master

[buggyboba]

Surrender Your Mind

Part One [x] + Part Two [x] + Part Three [x] A03 Link [x]

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𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖

↳ ▣ | SURPRISE! Happy Anniversary, Surrender your mind! I know I took a poll and posting the last two chapters together won, but hear me out. It took me forever to finish this chapter, too long, and I wanted to have something to post on the anniversary. Okay so there is a lot happening in this chapter, forgive a lot of it please. Pay attention to the trigger warnings, because there are a lot this time.

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Missy x Fem!reader

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

↳ ▣ | After last night emotions are running high, and the trap has been set, and now it's time to get the information she is looking for.

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Missy calls herself Mummy once, lots of petnames, Hypnosis, memory modification, pulling teeth, torture (Not reader), violence (Against reader).

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

↳ ▣ | 10k

𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜

↳ ▣ | x

You remained silent while waiting for the water to boil, your stomach tense and your heart racing. Your life was on the line, and she was treating it like it wasn’t a big deal. Then again, it probably wasn’t a big deal for her; she couldn't care less about what happened to you. All in all, you were strangers when it came down to it. Just right now you were bound together by the fact that an assassin wanted to use you to get to her, which held implications you didn’t quite want to think of, and she wanted to know what those implications were; she was treating this like it was a fun little game of finding out a secret. You felt ill as the anxiety worked its way into you, all the what-ifs came flooding your mind, and you couldn’t help but think about them. You couldn’t help but be scared of the thought of today being your last if something went wrong.

The night was full of thoughts. Disbelief that you had done that, frustration that you didn't get relief, and frustration at the plan that wasn't really a plan. You lay there until you finally drifted off to sleep.

There were dreams that left you flushed and sweaty, but dreams you could not recall for your life when you woke up. You laid in bed for a while, listening to the ambient sounds of the TARDIS. You finally dragged yourself up and changed before leaving your room. The TARDIS was strangely quiet. You felt nervous about today; was it going to be today? You walked into the kitchen area and frowned, leaning against the counter as you tried to calm your stomach down. You started the kettle, thankful that it was out and you didn’t have to go on a scavenger hunt for it; perhaps the ship knew how nervous you were. Shaking hands found the cup and started the kettle.

What if it was your last day? What had you done? Were you happy with what you had accomplished? You had been missing for a bit over a week now, you bet friends and family thought you dead, and your life had been violently uprooted thanks to these assassins. Your job was garbage, and you were positive that had you not been missing, you would have been let go. You had spent a week trapped in a spaceship time machine, but it felt more like a fancy cell. Your jailer was nuts, and you most certainly put your proverbial dick in crazy last night. Was it a mistake? Probably, but it certainly was nice at the time, enrichment in your alien enclosure. You were sure you would regret it later if there was a later. Maybe not, though, there was a sliver of hope that you would make it out of this alive; perhaps you would get to move on from this wild nightmare, and this would all be a distant memory someday.

“Oh right, yeah.” You offered. “We have mentioned the plan too many times now, and it doesn’t change. Dangle me as bait. I don’t think that that is the best course of action.”

You didn't hear her come in, so you nearly jumped out of your skin when her arm wrapped around your waist. “Jumpy little rabbit you are.” She mused, She frowned when you stayed silent. “Oh, come on now, we were getting along.” She put her chin on your shoulder, looking at you. The kettle went off, causing you both to jump and her to laugh. “Aw, you have made me tea, how sweet. I knew you would warm up.” She nipped your shoulder and moved around you to grab the tea that was supposed to be yours, the one you had wanted. You frowned but moved to get another cup. “We will have to set up the trap today. Are you ready for that?” She asked, adding sugar and cream to her cup and stirring it. The ting of the metal against ceramic caught your attention, causing you to look at her.

“Calm down? Really? Calm down? You know what? No! I am not going to be calm. You are talking about using me as bait to lure trained killers out so you can have a chance at snatching one. My life is on the line!” You snapped, and Missy's features hardened as you ranted at her.

She tsked and shook her head, taking a sip of her tea. “No, you are just scared, I get it, I understand, but I can guarantee—within my best abilities—that you won’t die here today.” She said calmly, trying to calm your nerves, but she could tell they were fraying. “I’ve mostly ironed out the plan; don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” You gave her a look, and it told her you were very much worried about it. She sighed again. “Calm down.” Famous last words. You looked at her with narrowed eyes and anger written on your features.

“Calm down, or I will make you calm down.” She said flatly. You wanted to say something, but the tone, the way she locked her eyes with yours—there was a pull; you had felt it before last night and when you first met. “I mean it…actually, we really should just have you clear your mind, have you surrender to me.” She clicked her tongue, her smirk returning to her lips as she caught your chin, tilting it up. The pull got stronger, your head hazy, you didn’t like the feeling, and you tried to pull away. “Ah, ah, ah… Be a good girl.” She cooed at you. You flinched and looked away from her, but she pulled your chin to force you to keep looking at her. You felt hazy, more relaxed, even though you knew you shouldn’t be. “Now, my dear, relax, calm down; you will trust me. Obey your Mistress.” Her tone was steady, hypnotic. You felt your senses yielding; it was an odd feeling as the calm washed over you. You didn’t want to be calm; you wanted to scream and yell and fight, but you felt that feeling fade to the back of your mind.

“See, not too hard. You want to trust me, you want to be a good girl for me today, and you can’t have your silly little emotions ruin anything,” she said lightly and took another sip from her teacup like nothing happened. She watched you for a good few moments, the haze of your eyes as you took her suggestion, not that you had a choice in the matter. She enjoyed the way your features softened, how you finally seemed relaxed, and how you were open and receptive. How you could stand near each other and your heart wasn’t racing, how you didn’t look at her with such distrust and venom.

On the other hand, Missy had work to do, as she said she did. She moved to grab a few things before she headed out; it would be much safer for you to stay put while she went about setting up the trap near the entrance of her delightful little transcendentally dimensional space. She had a plan, yes, as you had pointed out so thoroughly, to have you as bait, but while she was reckless and in any normal circumstance wouldn’t have cared about your safety, she needed answers. She needed to confirm the dreaded conclusion she had come to last night.

You felt like you were wading through a dream; her hold over you had zapped any pushback you had. You trusted her, that she had your best interest in mind, that she could do exactly what she said. “Okay,” you said after a moment; the words felt thick, like honey on your tongue, but lacked the sweetness. “You are right, I trust you,” you murmured. She nodded and patted your arm, kissing your cheek. She moved to lean against the counter.

“Now stay in your room like a good puppy; Mummy has work to do," she said and dismissed you. You nodded softly and wandered to your room.

She had already suspected that the Assassins assumed your ‘relationship’ was something more than it was. The doubt crept in last night after she left your room, the moment she allowed herself to be vulnerable in a way she didn’t normally. She was above all of this; she had to be, right? There was a moment when she was lying there next to you that she felt something, something she couldn’t afford to feel, and it scared her more than she was willing to admit. She chalked it up to the passion and left it at that, even if the what-ifs were still there. This whole situation completely threw off her groove, and she hated that. She wanted it to stop, to go back to her normal plans; those were things she could almost control, almost take into account for everything. This—this was out of her control, and she certainly hated that.

Her fingers trailed over the wires as she twisted the ends together, her eyes narrowed in thought. She needed to focus on this; it had to be solid, there was no room for mistakes, and yet her mind wouldn’t shut up so she could focus. You were something, something that she didn’t understand, a mystery, a stupid little human, nothing more. So why was she thinking of you? It was infuriating. But it was nice how you felt in her arms, how your mouth felt against hers. The beautiful sounds and hunger in you. ‘No! Shut up! She couldn’t think of that right now, the blue wire connected to the yellow one, and the red connected to the green’. She tried to force herself to push the idea of you away; she wasn’t some yearning schoolgirl, she was The Master–Mistress, and human apes were for the Doctor, not her. You were very much just another Lucy; you had to be. She needed to hurt something; thank the stars today she was hunting down that assassin. She needed to release all this pent-up emotion, ‘gross.’ She growled at herself, shaking her head, and restarted twisting the wire ends together. She ran through the plan in her head; it was easy, but everything had to be perfect, just obscured enough views so that the assassin couldn’t get a clear shot. Walking at just the right pace, so they weren’t suspicious. Leading them without it being obvious, it was a razor-wire dance, one that needed the utmost care and utmost diligence. What she was working on now was the most important piece, and she couldn’t afford for it not to go off right. A triform teleport, the other side was going to be right into a forcefield holding cell, one that the assassin couldn’t get out of, something biolocked so no matter how hard he tried, he would be there until Missy was ready for him. Once she was sure that the wiring was right, she laid down the metal that covered them, the base of her trap, attaching each piece with care, aligning them so it laid flat. With the transporter ready, she just had to do the same thing to the one in the room she was using as the holding cell. She brushed her skirt off and wiped her hands together as she stood up, moving to head there. She paused as she got to right before she passed your door.

There was a twinge of something in her chest. What the hell was that? She looked at the ground, trying to place that feeling. Guilt? No. No, no. She didn’t feel that, regret? Even more so, no, no thank you. It felt heavy and gross; she felt bad. Oh no, it was remorse. Why did she feel that? Maybe it was the thought of you sitting alone in that room, hypnotized. Maybe it was because she hypnotized you to keep you out of the way and calm for this crucial setup. Maybe it was because she could have approached all this openly and honestly and gotten your help; you could have at least carried the metal flats. Instead, she chose to make you pliant, enslaved to her will, her whims. She had never felt bad about that before. What the hell was so special about you? She made a mental note to figure out a fitting punishment for you later. Something nasty, maybe a little fatal—it wasn’t like she was really doing this to protect you; she was curious, and if the assassins thought you meant something to her—or future her—she wanted to know why. It was purely research; that’s why she was suffering, you being alive still. Right? Yes, absolutely, it had to be.

She shook her head and moved past your door, catching you out of the corner of her eye. “Good girl,” she reiterated when she saw you sat on the corner of the bed, looking down, like you were trying to figure something out. You were probably trying to claw your way back into a free mental state, but that wouldn’t happen. the push on your will to hypnotize you was too quick; your mental state was already fragile enough that she didn’t have to push too hard, but she felt you try to push back, and that was enough for her to wonder what potential you actually had. You had shown such fire, and even if she didn’t want to admit it, she liked your resilience against her, your cunning. It was a fun game for her so far. “Don’t think too hard, pet; remember, trust me,” she reiterated, trying to make sure her command was solidified; she couldn’t risk any sudden breaks in her control. “Say it again, my dear,” she prompted. Her eyes narrowed when you looked up; there was a flash of something that looked a little like rebellion, but then you nodded.

“I trust you, Mistress,” you said.

She nodded. Well, that didn’t feel as good as when you said it of your own volition, the Mistress part anyway. But she nodded and closed your door, locking it just in case—no room for surprises. She continued on her way to get the rest of the supplies she needed for the other room. The work went about as smoothly as the first one. It infuriated her how she thought of you, and even more so the feelings that it stirred in her. She moved to clean up the oil and dirt from the work and then moved to go wash up, changing into something more fitting for the next part of her plan. Her blue eyes scanned over each and every dress she had. Maybe the black one. No, maybe the purple. Purple was nice; it brought out her eyes, but she wore it so often. It was a good look. She settled on neither of them and picked a deep crimson, nearly black dress that was the same cut; she did so adore Victorian-era wear. She found a hat that matched, a little black one with a lace half veil. She stared at herself in a full-length mirror for a while, and her mind wandered. There was this odd feeling in her stomach she couldn’t say she had felt in a very long time, if ever. She let out a low sigh and shook her head. What was even happening? How could YOU, an insignificant human ape, make her feel bad about hypnotizing you? This was utterly ridiculous, yet she still felt guilt, disgusting. How could this happen to her? What had she done to deserve this? Wait, no, there was a lot, but the universe would be so cruel to make this happen? For a second she wondered if the Doctor had something to do with this whole thing, with his love for humans, but then she remembered he wouldn’t have the guts to get time assassins involved for a silly little thing like this, though that would be something, wouldn’t it? Though he may have been involved in another way, she wondered if you could be a, oh god, what did he call them, companions? Human pets? You felt like the type, all human and pathetic; she could imagine your eyes doing wide-eyed, excited things at the sight of the universe. She got another feeling in the pit of her stomach—jealousy? Why was she jealous? The thought of you being all sickeningly adorable looking at the stars, standing there in the bask of moonlight or starlight, with awe written on your face, but not because of her, because of The Doctor—how dare The Doctor steal you in this completely made-up scenario in her head. She would have very stern words with him eventually. Or maybe she would just blow up a planet or something, kill a companion's loved one. Yeah, that one seemed fitting.

“Good, we are really going to need to sell it. Shouldn’t be too hard; I had the UK believing I was a jolly good husband during a whole campaign.” She chuckled to herself. “And my wife, ex-wife, she shot me… played her part perfectly, and she was dull, droll…boring. You’ll be fine…oh, if you are good, maybe I’ll even hold your hand.” She mused, her eyes sliding over your body as you moved to change into the dress. She tore her gaze away to give you privacy but stole glances occasionally; she couldn’t help it—last night had been very good to her. “You know this isn’t going to work if you are all wide-eyed and look hypnotized.” She thought for a moment, “This will need something different, still hypnosis, but more… complex and subtle…” She mused, moving to catch your arm and giving you a little tug so you would stumble into her; her hand caressed your cheek, and she smirked down at you, all teeth, a predator who caught her prey. “A simple temporary mental manipulation might work, just long enough for you to act your part. Yes, I think that would be perfect. What story should I craft, puppy?”

She was irritated about everything now, she needed to calm down and focus. Yes, that was absolutely something she could do, focus. She moved back to the rows of clothing and looked through them for something for you to wear. Her eyes scanned the clothing, and her tongue clicked against the back of her teeth until she pulled a dress from the rack. It wasn’t extravagant; she didn’t want you too flashy. Flashy was for her eyes only, but she did have an appearance to keep up, and she couldn’t have you making her look bad. This dress would do. She moved to grab flats for you and then walked back to your room, hovering by the door for a moment before she walked in. “Put this on,” she said, putting the dress on the bed next to you. “And we are going to have a fun little game of make-believe we are in love for the public. Do you think you can manage that, puppy?” She asked.

You looked at the dress she put on the bed and then listened to her words, nodding softly.

Missy watched you for a good long few moments. “Hm, no suggestions? How boring.” She tsked at you and then grinned. “Hm, dating a month gives cause for the ‘new relationship’ jitters… Madly in love, I do love devotion…to me… Hm…let's just forget about that nasty little choking incident; maybe that can be permanent,” Missy mused as she locked eyes with you, keeping your head tilted. She meticulously planted and changed memories, drawing up a lovely story about your ‘relationship’. It would certainly be convincing enough and keep you pliant and calm enough without suspicions. Though she was sure the Assassins would be suspicious anyway, given how long they had gone without a sighting of you or her really, she would hope they would just assume she was cocky and dismissive since they were really bad at their jobs so far.

“Yeah, yeah,” You nodded and made a face.

Once she was satisfied with the modified memory, making sure to spin a solid story, nothing that was too wild, it had to be believable so your mind wouldn’t outright reject it. She stepped away and motioned for you to finish changing. You changed into the dress like she motioned for you to; your mind was hazy, but not like before; things were getting clearer; you looked confused for a moment, and she hummed, watching you.

“We are going out today, remember, puppy?” She said, her tone full of concern. She even gave your arm a little squeeze. You looked at her and nodded a bit. Yeah, that sounded right to you. Right, they were going out today.

“You okay there, dear?” She asked and brushed your shoulder off, smoothing your dress over your chest and stomach as she gave you a smile. You nodded, your face scrunching for a moment as you thought, but then you nodded again.

“I feel like I am missing something.” You said with a frown, “Like it’s important, but I just can’t remember it.” You looked at her for answers. She watched you trying to keep her smile. Were the memories not taking? No, they had to. She was practiced at this, and you were just a little human. You shifted, trying to think. She shook her head and moved to give you a kiss. Her lips against yours brought your attention away from trying to unravel the thing you were trying to remember. She pulled back once she felt the resistance melt away. Good, she would have to be more careful with you. Apparently, your will was fighting back, and while it was a fun challenge, she couldn’t have that right now. “What was that for?” You laughed a bit.

“Because you are…” She searched for the word for a moment. “adorable.” She decided on and led you from the room. You walked with her, sticking close to her heels. You felt excited, but like it was manufactured, there was an underlying worry you just couldn’t put your finger on. You followed out of the TARDIS and through the mausoleum of fish tanks, and you grabbed her arm, getting closer to her when you could have sworn one of the submerged skeletons looked at you. She tensed for a moment but then remembered she had a part to play and patted your arm in an attempt to comfort you. You walked quietly, but it seemed she preferred that, until you got outside, she started in idle small talk, though it was very clear she wasn’t pleased about the small talk, she at least made an attempt to be animated about it. She, funnily enough, but to no one’s surprise, spoke more than you, but you didn’t mind; you enjoyed listening to her stories, or at least you got the impression you did. She took a leisurely pace, strolling as she wrapped her arm around you, keeping you close, making sure you both were passing behind cars and signs at a pace that changed occasionally to throw whoever was watching off.

It was a beautiful day, not cold, but not warm, somewhere in the middle. It was cloudy, and rain was imminent, but right now it wasn’t on your mind. Your…girlfriend….yes, that word was correct; that felt correct. Your memories told you that was a correct assumption. She had been working so hard in her funeral company, and you were grateful for this break. You also needed it because you had been staying with her after a main exploded leveling your apartment building.

“Mis, can we go to that tea shop?” you asked idly, playing with her bracelets. She watched you for a moment and nodded, directing you towards the shop. You happily followed, but it seemed like her mind was elsewhere. She was checking the area out of the corner of her eye, but you decided it was just her being paranoid and laced your fingers with hers. You would lean against her some when you got to a pedestrian crossing and had to wait for your turn. You could feel how tense she was and frowned. “Mis, what’s wrong?” you asked softly, looking at her. She shook her head and kissed your temple.

“I have just been…” She searched for the right word: “It’s a me problem, not a you problem.” She decided, but that seemed to make your face fall even more. “No, why did your face do that? This is a nice day out; we are having a nice time. Fix your face.” She said firmly. You shook your head a bit.

“Nothing you have to worry that pretty little head about. Come on, we are almost there. Oh, I wonder if we have time for afternoon tea.” She said, pulling away from you abruptly. You paused and frowned at her no longer being right there. She pulled on your hand and blinked when you weren’t right there behind her, and she actually had to pull you a bit. “Oh come on, what is this then?” she asked and tilted her head some. She didn’t want the defiance; she needed devotion and compliance.

“You keep looking around, and you are super tense.” You said, crossing your arms, “Something isn’t right.” you decided on, though you weren’t quite sure what was off, you felt it, and no amount of her tricks could stop that gut feeling.

“Oh please, keep it together; nothing is wrong. I am taking you on a nice little date. You adore this kind of thing, do you not?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Well, obviously I want to spend time with my girlfriend, yes, but not when she is being super tense and weird.” You shook your head. “You tense every time I touch you. Are you mad at me or something?” You sighed, and she looked around. She didn’t like that you stopped in such a visible spot. She casually put her hand on the small of your back and directed you to walk again.

“Okay.” You said and shrugged halfheartedly. You wondered perhaps if you had done something wrong, but then again, as you mentally recalled, she wasn't an overly touchy person, so you decided to reel it back in, putting your hands in your pockets as you walked beside her. The silence hung, only interrupted by the chatter of people passing by as you passed them. When you got to the tea shop, the one you recalled meeting her in, she opened the door for you, and you slipped in. The smell of floral and robust tea hit your nose, and your mood lifted a bit as you ordered your drinks and some pastries. She picked a table that was close to the back and obscured from the window, which made you pout a bit. Tea time was great for people-watching, and when you sat down, she slid closer to you. “No window today?” You asked, and she shook her head.

“Business stuff,” she said coolly. “Things are moving slower than anticipated; I may have to give things a push.” She said, taking a sip of her tea.

“No, I want all your attention, my dear.” She said and took a sip of her tea. “After all, it is a date day, and I would be upset if you were focused on other people.” She gave a charming smile, her nose crinkling up a bit, you nodded. It seemed reasonable. You listened to her talk, picking a topic; she spoke on it like a seasoned professor. You smiled and nodded, asking questions, but then she seemed to get sidetracked by her phone. You waited for her to resume, but she seemed to get quiet for a few moments.

“Something wrong?” You asked carefully; she shook her head no and put her phone face down on the table, looking back at you.

“Are not enough people dying or something? I mean, it's a funeral company; people are literally dying to get in. You will always have a business.” You said, and she gave a real snort laugh.

“How positively morbid of you. No, it's something else. People are dying at a fine pace, though some could afford to be more prompt.” She shrugged.

“Now, who is morbid?” You shook your head. She leaned back, watching you, studying you like you were a fascinating little creature. You shifted under her gaze and busied yourself by biting into a scone. “What do you have planned?” You asked after you swallowed what was in your mouth.

“Depends.” She said, tapping her finger against the table a bit, a beat of four, before she shook her head, catching herself. She looked at you and smiled. “But for us, I think we could take a stroll, maybe do some window shopping…enjoy the weather.” She mused a bit. You nodded and took another sip of your tea, relishing the flavor spreading on your tongue and how warm it was. She watched you and then lazily looked away towards the window briefly. When you were finished with your tea, she moved to get up. “Come along, pup,” she said, and you moved to get up, to follow after her.

The rest of the date was wonderful, a bit of shopping and some more treats, though it was odd she was taking the long way for certain things; you noticed that it was always shaded or obscured from the view of the street, but you decided it didn’t matter; you were having a good day. That was until you took a turn onto this street. She led you slowly, talking about something you didn’t quite understand, but you let her talk anyway. You noticed the subtle shift in her; she was more aware, or at least seemed to be tracking something discreetly. That’s when she decided the date was over; it was abrupt and jarring, but she started to lead you back to the cathedral. You tried to protest, but she grabbed your wrist and pulled you with her, keeping you pressed to her side. Her pace was quicker than the leisurely stroll you both had been using this entire time. She had a purpose behind her strides. When you both got back to the door, she let you in first, making a show of looking behind her at the area like she didn’t clock the man following them. The assassin had taken the bait, and that was going to be his undoing. She slipped in and closed the door; the trap was set, and now to wait.

“Wakey wakey~” Her voice was cold but held a sing-song quality to it “I have questions~” She said and delivered a sharp crack against the man’s jaw. His head lulled back and rolled to the front; a low groan escaped his throat. “Oh, there he is! A strapping young man! Howdy, partner,” she smirked, a fake southern drawl at the end of her statement. The man blinked slowly, trying to find some footing. He noticed that he was handcuffed to a metal chair. The assassin was trying to think; he would have to be calm and collected to get out of this, though of course, she knew he wasn’t leaving this cell alive; she would let him think he had a sliver of a chance.

“Well hello, handsome, you and I are going to have a little chat. I am not completely heartless. Do you have anything you’d like to tell your next of kin while you can still function?” She said, leaning against the pillar of the light cell. “I know, I know, how could this happen to you? Easy, you decided that much like me, you didn’t value YOUR life, so now we are here staring at each other, and you want to kill that silly little human because you think it will get to me, and I want to know why.” She gave a charming smile before she tilted her head, watching him like a cat would a rat.

“Why the fuck would you think I would tell you?” He muttered, his fingers touching the cuffs he was in. Not human, rather advanced, no holes for a key, voice-activated, maybe. She brushed off her dress and gave a sort of half smile.

“No, I suppose you aren’t. There really is only one other person like me, but he refuses to see it… Shame, we were friends once. I think he will see we aren't so different soon. I don't mind saying it because you are dying here. Sorry, chum, that is just how it is on this bitch of an earth sometimes… Well, that and you decided that I, ME, was prey, and I can’t have that… You have some nice chompers. I didn’t expect your organization to have a good dental plan… fascinating… Oh, how interesting. I bet they have a tracker in you. How fun…” She tilted his head, looking at his teeth with mild interest, until she shoved the pliers in, capturing his back molar and pulling and twisting. Her Time Lord strength made short work as she pulled the tooth from his skull. She looked at it. “Yep, there it is… Thank God for a good cloaking,” she said, dropping the tooth onto the little metal table with the tools.

“I get it; I am very scary, with a penchant for violence and quick to anger. That was the old me.” She laughed and shook her head. “Might as well be the new me too. Now let's get to the nitty-gritty, poppet. What silly little war crime did I do that pissed your employer off? Let's start there; that’s easy since you don’t want to answer my other question just yet.” She said, watching him, but he only glared at her. She frowned after a beat of silence. “The old silent treatment, huh?” She chuckled and shrugged, walking just out of his view where she had set out an array of nasty-looking instruments. Her fingers danced over a few before she pulled a pair of pliers out, walking back over with a charming grin. “Now, we could do this the messy way, but let’s be honest. I’ll have to clean up the blood, not that I don’t mind getting messy; blood doesn’t bother me, you see. I think it’s quite pretty.” She said and stood in front of him. “Now, see, I understand that physical torture is something you little assassins are trained against, same with mental, but I find that if you wound the body just enough, mental fortitude is also taking a big ol’ hit. So let’s begin.” She nodded and tapped under his chin with the pliers. “I am going to have a nice set of…hm…what species are you? Let’s see.” She got closer, inspecting him, subtly sniffing the air around him for any hints. “Oh, look at you, Atrion, so far away from home, and such a short life expectancy—why shorten it more? Just had to get off your little planet, see the stars, kill some people—I get it…kindred spirit.”

“No, I am nothing like you,” he snapped. When he opened his mouth, she caught his jaw, keeping it pried open.

The man tried to wrench away from her, but she held his jaw, digging her nails in, tutting at him like he was a misbehaved child. “We are far from done, my dear,” she smirked. The energy shifted, and she certainly wasn’t the ‘nice’ person she was presenting, but then again, they both knew that. Her eyes darkened as she looked over the Atrion assassin; she moved to pull a few more teeth just for good measure. She pulled back to switch out tools, and the man’s head lolled forward for a moment. “Oh, you simply can’t be tapping out now. You time assassins train too hard for that, I thought.” She smirked and grabbed a long sliver of a blade, turning back towards him. He lifted his head, and when she stepped closer, he spat on her, saliva and blood dripping from his lips afterward. She froze, looking down at him. There was a moment when you could tell she was deciding, and then there was the pull of her blade, hooking in his cheek and pulling up, cutting the cheek open.

“Now that wasn’t very nice of you, spitting on a woman…staining her dress in your filthy blood,” she said calmly. “I’m going to take chunks of you now,” she hummed, “and send them back to your partners, or whoever you may have waiting for you.” She grinned and caught his face before he could try and spit on her again, her nails digging into the gash she had made. “Now, be polite,” she hissed at him and pulled his jaw open more. The man grunted in pain and tried to pull his head away, but she held fast. “Look at me,” she demanded. She didn’t need eye contact to delve into his mind, but she wanted to see the fear in his eyes, the hate. It was burning in him, and she delighted in it, the power. She turned his head so she could inspect the torn cheek, letting her nails jab at his tongue. She tsked a bit and mused, “I’m allowing you to tell me the things I want to know, poppet. I suggest you do, because I could just take a nice little stroll through your mind, make a muck of it, and I really want you to be able to understand what is happening to you when I kill you.” She smiled and poked his nose with her free hand’s finger. He growled out and tried to pull away again; she tsked and pouted at him in mock concern. “No? You assassins always play tough. Well, we both know that it’s an act. You are terrified; your little heart is going a mile a minute. I can hear it, you know. You know how this will end, and yet you are trying so hard to deny me. Hate that for both of us.” She shook her head. “What were your orders?” She demanded. When he tried to bite her fingers, she pulled her hand away and backhanded him, catching his hair. She grabbed his throat and tilted his head back, her eyes locking with his. She felt the defense go up, the mental blockade, but it wasn’t as strong as it could be; he was wounded, and the pain was causing him to lose focus, exactly what she wanted.

The man grunted and tried to flail in the chair as he felt the sharp pain of her prying her way past his defenses, her focus acute and pinpointed to break through, her breath hitching as she moved to pin him to the chair better, her knees on either side of his to keep him still, her hand tightening around his throat to block his breath. She got this look like she was thrilled, her smile was all teeth, and her face was close to his. As he tried to fight again, her other arm came to rest around his shoulder so her hand with the blade could grip his back. She forced him to look at her again, her expression giddy.

“Oh, I am going to take a nice walk through your little noggin, and I am going to make a mess. I will tear you apart, memory by memory. It's going to be fun for me, you see. I haven't gotten to do that in quite some time.” She mused and brushed his shoulder off with her other hand before she grabbed his jaw again. “You will let me in. I am The Mistress, and you will obey.” She said her voice had that hypnotic quality as she forced her way into his mind; it was taxing on both of them. Still, she would get the information she wanted regardless of the strain; she knew she was mentally strong enough to endure. She wasn’t so sure about the Atrion, so she would have to move fast; it wasn’t going to be clean, and it would certainly ruin him. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to care; this was a fun mental exercise for her, and she would treat it as such, a little enrichment in her enclosure.

The memories were hazy at first, the Atrion fighting against her mental intrusion, the memories along a web of sorts, fogged and just out of her reach. “Oh, come on, you really think you can fight me off?” She gave a low chuckle, “I can start from the beginning if you truly want, take your best memories away, leave you no joy. Is this how you want to die? No good memories, just bad. Poor little Atrion, so far from home, alone in the wolves' den, and you choose to fight all the way through. I suppose I find that commendable, though annoying for me.” She shook her head a bit and focused again. Mental manipulation was easy at its core, but he was fighting so hard she enjoyed it. She quickly pounced on a memory that was slipping, tearing into it, and she gave a mock frown. “A holiday with family, how sweet. Your mom and dad? Some siblings too? Still around?” She asked with false interest. The man tried to push her from the memory, so she tightened her grip on his throat until his mind hazed, and he got a bit limp. “Try it again, and we will make this an all-day thing. I have the time, and if we run out, I will make time, silly.” She gave a half chuckle and continued the memory, “Yeah, that’s your mom and dad, how sweet…and definitely siblings.” She paused and gave a wicked smirk. “See, the funny thing is, if we remove one, the ache of not feeling whole will still be there— with just a quick pull.” She focused, and the assassin felt his mind burn like something was being pulled and seared out of it. He yelled and jerked, trying to pull away from her, buck her off of him, anything to stop the feeling. Her arm tightened around him, and she gave a fake sympathetic ‘shh’ at him as she erased one of his siblings from his memory but didn’t manipulate it further so he could feel the loss, but he didn’t know what he was missing.

She pushed through several more memories, a similar action with each, taking people from his memories so he would feel emptier, knowing he was missing something but not knowing who and why he felt that ache. That was a special brand of emotional torture. She felt his resolve crumbling and pressed further, trying to get to the memories she required, when she found an interesting conundrum: someone else had rooted around in his mind, a memory that was so cut up that only a minuscule amount of information was there. There was a low, unimpressed sound from the back of Missy’s throat. “Now that is interesting,” she sighed. “And informative, smart business that is, know your enemy. Too bad it's not going to work, my dear,” she spoke as she tried to dissect the memory carefully.

She saw the insignia of the branch of assassins, the file on her in whoever he was talking to's hands. The conversation was vague, at least the parts that weren't redacted. It was smart how they played; the assassin knew the information but only retained the order. Your name caught her attention; they specifically had mentioned you as a person of interest, keeping it vague, saying there was more in the file. She tried to dig deeper, but the information was gone. This was getting increasingly irritating. She had hoped this would be a simple thing; it should have been.

She was The Mistress, and things bent to her; perhaps this agency hadn’t gotten the memo. She felt the connection starting to fray, and she made a click against her teeth with her tongue. “This has been disappointing, to think you will die for naught.” She shook her head and pulled away from him. “You couldn't even tell me what I want to know if you wanted to… Oh well, I've learned enough to go directly to the source.” She shrugged, though she was very irritated—no, that wasn’t quite the right word either; livid was more like it. She wasn’t a fan of when her plans didn’t go how they should, and this company had thrown a rather large wrench in her plans; not only had they covered their tracks and erased the memories she needed, but the mystery of who you were was still eluding her.

Yes, she had the inkling of an idea of who you could be, but she wanted solid proof, and this man could not provide her with that. As she pulled away, she assessed the damage to the man. He was no longer a threat; she had made a mess of his mind upon exit. Killing him would be a mercy. She wasn’t feeling merciful right now, so she stepped away and cleaned the tools up. He could stay here until he rotted for all she cared. She was so mad, she exited the cell, locking it again, and then exited the room to go wash the blood from her hands.

She hadn’t expected you when she rounded the corner, but she gave an annoyed click of her tongue and a tsk sound as she stepped past you. You frowned and moved to follow her. “Are we going to talk about the Hypnosis?” You asked firmly; you were angry she had done that, taken your free will, and then messed with your memories, all so her plan wouldn’t be interfered with.

“No,” she said simply as she walked, rolling her eyes.

“No? I think we should.” You said firmly, which got you shoved away from her hard. “Missy!” You yelped and went to grab her arm, which was clearly the wrong move because she slammed your back against the wall, knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Don’t you ever touch me again, you filthy little ape.” She said sharply, and you froze. She took the opportunity to slip into her room, locking the door behind her. You kicked her door and made an angry sound. There was nothing but silence on the other side, which pissed you off more than the insult. You deserved to know what was happening; you deserved to know what she found out with the assassin. The memory had not been lost to her, just rewritten for a while, and that was another thing: the feeling of not knowing what the true memory was, the confusion, the anger. You deserved to be angry and confront her.

“Missy!” you yelled through the door. “This isn’t fair! Did you get the information or not?” You hit the door again and were met with silence. You tried a few more times before you kicked her door harder and walked away from it. You could just leave, walk out, and take your chances, maybe explain to the assassins if they caught you—no, that was stupid. You decided to sulk back to your room; you had a lot of feelings about what was happening, but you didn’t want to risk getting killed for nothing.

You found yourself listening for movement. It was impressive how silent she could be, but it was odd because you were the avoidant one. What had she learned that made her act like this? You knew looking for the assassin was a lost cause, the TARDIS would never let you find the room, and there was a good chance the assassin was gone by now. You were just so mad that this was the route she went, hypnotizing you, messing around with your memories, making you blissfully unaware of the danger, and cutting you out of the questioning, though you weren’t sure if you could handle what she could possibly do to a person. Taking your right away like that wasn’t okay, especially since now she had locked herself in her room, so she couldn’t even get an explanation.

It wasn’t like Missy could right now, though, unbeknownst to you. She was trying her hardest to be calm and collected; she had hoped finally getting the assassin and questioning him would yield more, but it hadn’t, and she was still left with questions. You were being annoying, and it was taking a lot not just to kill you and move on with her life. She really should kill you; it would end whatever this was. She didn’t even know why she didn’t just do it in the first place. You were a liability, and a big one if the assassin's lack of a full memory was anything to go on. This was all so stupid; she should have let the assassin kill you, honestly, but she also figured whatever her you belonged to would not be thrilled about your death should she have let that happen.

There was a conflicted feeling in you because of her memory manipulation, and you didn’t like it. The relationship she built for the manipulation felt good, so good, felt warm in a way you didn’t know how to explain, but it felt right. You hated it because it had been a lie, a breach of your autonomy, but now, knowing it was a lie, your heart ached for something that never was. What was worse is she couldn’t even be a decent person and face you about things.

Though the longer she ignored you, the odd feeling bubbled in her stomach; at least you had stopped kicking and hitting her door. She knew you hadn’t left because she could hear you; you were quiet but louder than usual, your footfall, and you were waiting for her, listening for her. How interesting. To yell at her, no doubt. How bold of you to raise your voice at her! You were a stupid human, but it was almost endearing that while you were still very much terrified of her, you weren’t scared to be angry and lash out. A misbehaved puppy, but you could be her misbehaved puppy; she could train you. No, that was a dangerous thought too; she hated that she couldn’t land on what she wanted to do to you: kill you or keep you.

Then again, what did she care about what her future self thought or cared about? If her future self had softened so much to keep a human around, then maybe they deserved to lose said human. Then again, you had been so…interesting; that’s the word she would choose for now. The fake date you had earlier was nice, delightful even. No, that was dangerous to think, though having someone around to make her feel better—oh, she understood why the doctor kept so many humans around; it was a pride thing, to make him feel better about whatever, to preen over him. They were easy to manipulate; it made sense, but she was not the doctor, and she wouldn’t allow herself to stoop to his level. No, you needed to go. She had the organization name, and she could go handle this. There was no reason for you to be around anymore. Though there was this deep feeling that she couldn’t figure out, that she wanted you around, and that was even more dangerous. No, you had to go; you were too dangerous for her to keep around. She didn’t like this feeling, or maybe she did, and that scared her. You were bad for her self-preservation, and thus, she had to handle you, not right this minute, though. No, she had things she had to do; she needed to pinpoint this organization for one, and then she could kill you.

She was so conflicted, and she hated that. There was no way she liked you; you were an annoyance that took up some of her time, a mystery she was solving, and that game was almost done now. Logically, it should be easy to just end you and move on, but she found herself cycling between wanting to kill you just so the assassins couldn’t use you against her and wanting to keep you for herself.

She avoided you for a few days, and sure enough, the TARDIS still wouldn’t let you go; you begged and pleaded with it, but it ignored you, ever loyal to its master. Regardless of how much you begged and tried to open its door, it wouldn't release you; it even shocked you the last time you tried to touch the door. Which left you upset and having to hang around, returning to your routine of listening for her and exploring, but it also left you to stew on your anger. You were already starting to get irritated that she was avoiding you, but then again, you had avoided her previously, but that was for a completely different reason. She had kidnapped you; it was justified. This was her trying to avoid responsibility, or at least that’s how it felt. Everything that happened was bubbling your anger more and more; you wanted answers, and you deserved answers. The assassins were trying to kill you to get to her, and she hypnotized you, messed with your memories, and now had the nerve to pretend you didn’t exist. You weren’t going to have it anymore. You were going to make her talk to you, and you were going to make sure she couldn’t possibly ignore you.

You moved to find something heavy, finding the little workshop—at least it looked like a workshop. You found something that looked like a mallet and grabbed it. You started back out to the console room; you had an idea. It was risky, but it was certainly going to be hard to ignore. “MISSY!” you called out, your voice furious as you made it back to the console room, your eyes landing on the machinery. “MISSY, COME OUT AND TALK!” You yelled, and your grip on the mallet tightened. “OR I START SMASHING!” You threatened. The silence that followed pissed you off even more. “I’LL DO IT!” You bellowed out and then watched the hallway. Was she calling your bluff? Too bad you weren’t bluffing. You took a swing at the console, and the sound was loud, metal crunching. The TARDIS’s alarm startled you; it had never made that sound before, but that did the trick because a moment later Missy had grabbed your wrist and turned you to face her. There was an anger in her eyes; you fought against her, and she grabbed the mallet so you couldn’t swing it again.

“What an anger on you, puppy.” She snapped and shook you off, pushing into you so you would let go. You moved to try and push her away; she held the handle, letting the head of the mallet thud against the floor. “You’ve damaged my machine,” she said sharply. “You are getting one step closer to no longer being among the living and joining my cyberdears,” she warned.

You shook your head, “I am so sick of you!” You lashed out; she watched you calmly, like she was watching a child. “You are selfish, cruel, and loathsome! You think you are above everyone else, and you think you are so clever!” you snapped at her. “You only care about things that pertain to you! You narcissist!” you continued. “I don’t care if you are angry; I am angry too! It’s not just your life that matters; the assassin was after me too! Because of you, for whatever reason, and all you care about is you!”

“Are you done?” She asked, deathly calm.

“No!” you said and continued, earning you an annoyed look, but you didn’t care. “You hypnotized me, how many times?” You shot at her.

“You expect me to remember all the little suggestions, please.” She rolled her eyes. “It was for your own good.” She sighed, but you shook your head.

“All of this was for nothing then; guess you aren’t so powerful and clever,” You snapped, and that was it; the fuse was lit. The calm grace was gone; it was pure anger, anger at you, the situation, and herself. She grabbed you and pulled you, and you fought back against her. You were angry too, and she had done nothing but add fuel to the fire. You weren’t going to let her manhandle you again, not without a fight. You didn’t care. If she hadn’t gotten the information, then there were still assassins out there waiting; either way, it was a losing fight. You died out there or you died in here, and that angered you so much more. You never asked for any of this; you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t ask to be here, and furthermore, you didn’t ask to be wrapped up in an insane woman’s schemes and consequences.

“My own good! Bullshit.” You hissed out and shoved her a bit, which caused a dangerous growl from her throat, but you were angry and didn’t care. “You took away my agency because it was convenient for you!” You shook your head. “This had as much to do with me as it did with you!” You shoved her shoulder again. “And all you care about is you! I’m sick of it! What did the assassin say? I’m assuming you at least got to talk to them during our fun little forced date!” you yelled.

“It’s complicated,” she snapped back. “Whatever you are is complicated.” She said and grabbed your wrist when you tried to shove her again. “ENOUGH!” She yelled at you. This was the first time the cracks showed; whenever she had been angry, it had been calm anger, so you couldn’t figure her out, but now the mask was slipping. “The memories were tampered with, gone! I didn’t get the information I was looking for." She pushed you away from her, your back hit the console, and you swung in defense. There was a moment of silence. The world froze, and you both stared at each other, the calm before the storm.

The struggle brought you both to the ground; you bit her shoulder as hard as you could, and she grabbed your jaw, pushing you away with a startled yell, “You animal!” she hissed.

“Takes one to know one!” You hissed back and moved, straddling her hips, your hands wrapping around her throat, and she looked unimpressed. You screamed in an almost primal sound, all of your anger, your emotions, everything just poured out. Your eyes brimming with angry tears, she took this moment to force you off of her, but she was quick; crawling over you, she held your wrists down with one hand, and her other gripped your throat tightly.

“Respiratory bypass, idiot.” She said, like it should be common knowledge, why she hadn’t been choking. “You, on the other hand, puppy, with your pathetic little human system,” She squeezed harder, you choked out and tried to squirm to get your wrists free, and she watched you like you were a disgusting bug. “I should kill you, just end it; it wouldn’t be hard, snap your silly little neck.” She said matter-of-factly there was no playfulness, just actual anger. “If I killed you now, this wouldn’t even happen, you wouldn’t mean anything to me, and then they couldn’t use you. It’s a mercy for both of us if I did kill you, you know.” She let her thumb press against your jaw, forcing your head to tilt more. “Mercy for you, no more headache for me… It’s a win-win, puppy.’ She said, watching you, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe in but couldn’t. You arched, trying to buck her off, but she shifted to stay put. Your eyes fluttered a bit, and the edges of your vision blacked out.

“Please,” you choked out, your limbs heavy. There was a moment when she watched you and suddenly let your throat go, but she kept you pinned. You let a ragged breath in but didn’t fight her. She looked at you, really looked at you.

“You are feisty; I think I will let you live, at least until this is over…” She muttered and sat up to give you a bit of space, but she didn’t get off of you. You took a few deep breaths in and laid there on the cold floor.

“Apologize to my TARDIS, you had no right…” She said sharply, and you weakly nodded and croaked out a weak ‘sorry’. “If you ever try to fight me again, I will disintegrate you, and that will be that,” she warned and then gave her charming grin. “And I will hypnotize you again. I will not apologize for that or anything because it is by my grace alone that you are still alive. Now be a good pup—”

A knock startled both of you, a beat of four on the door. You looked at her in search of an answer. She looked at the door. Her eyes widened a bit as the knock happened again.

@Shipshroom @Germansarechill @thatgaywitch1 @what-bout-me @bugeater77 @sessa23 @lena-kieran-luthor @ch3rrybutterfly @marisacoulterswife @aboutcustardcreams @starbucks-06 @lotus-ignis

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Taglist|

[aboutcustardcreams]

Masterlist

Oh, hello stranger, you must know I’m an incredibly unreliable writer. I write when I’m inspired, when I have time, and, most often, when I absolutely do not have time.

Agatha all along

The road you take [ Agathario x reader ] idk man, I honestly wanted to be part of Agatha’s journey so here it is…

Until next time

Wake up call / part two

We walk the wind-y road

Time Ticking, Patience Thinning

To a Love that Never Dies

Motherhood

So it’s true, a Door appears

Action and Reaction (1)

Face your fears or.. chicken out?

For love, we gladly pay the price

It’s not that easy

Time. I want more time

I can’t see the end, so I pretend it’s sweet

The Weight of Silence

A day in the life

Doctor who

Hold on to something beautiful [ Missy x reader ] You miss Missy for way too long.

About the beach day [ 13th Doctor x Yasmin Khan x reader ] written after watching the episode Legend of sea Devils so it comes after that. Platonic (?) short and cute.

There can’t be a universe without the Doctor [ 13th Doctor x Yasmin Khan x reader ] honestly the title sums up it rather well. Doc is stubborn, but you and Yaz even more.

She sees right through me [ 13th Doctor x Time Lord reader x Yasmin Khan ] Your encounter with the Doctor, after many years searching for her, doesn't go exactly as planned. But you shouldn't be surprised, considering the unexpected is Time Lords' bread and butter.

Help me hold onto you [13th Doctor x reader & Yasmin Khan x reader (friendship) ] The Doctor takes you and Yaz to Nectoxia, a peculiar planet that serves as burial ground, with the purpose of giving you a harmless fright. However, things don’t go as planned. They never do. And this time, it could cost you dearly. ONGOING

WWTDD: What would the doctor do? [13th Doctor x time lord reader ] After an argument, you storm off the TARDIS in need to clear your head. And it goes well for a while, until you find yourself in quite a predicament and in need of a helping hand.

Broadchurch

People Help the People [ Beth Latimer x reader ] Sometimes it’s nice to be reminded by those you love how much you mean to them. Beth Latimer is natural at that.

[aboutcustardcreams]

Missy basking in her own chaos while happily chirping ‘weeeeeeeeee!’

Don’t lie you can see it too.

Look at him just having the funniest of times.

[fedzzzart]

COMPANIONS

aaaaaah looking at them all together is so satisfying!! and i’m so proud of actually finishing this🥰

[aenslem]

DOCTOR WHO || AGATHA ALL ALONG

[all-the-spindly-roots]

𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀; 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟱.

[bobcatblahs]

Have some more of the Doctor Who text posts I’ve been hoarding

[marvelmaniac715]

I like to think that Doctor Who from the Master's perspective could be called 'One Man's Quest To Get His Spouse To Come Back Home And Abandon His Massive Ant Colony'. Everything is so much funnier if you picture the Master being absolutely baffled at the Doctor defending Earth, because he's borderline immortal whilst humans die so quickly - killing a human is like stepping on a spider, and the Doctor is the guy who swoops in with a cup and paper to move the spider outside even if the decision seems nonsensical. I like to reframe the Master's attempts to take over the universe as him desperately asking the Doctor "we could get a dog? Or a cat? Or adopt? Are the ants really worth it, you have no other hobbies".

[lonelyzarquon]

DOCTOR WHO | The Witch’s Familiar

[causalityparadoxes]

The Moon and the President's Wife // BOOM

Bonus:

[awareinthevoid]

some more doctor who + text posts/tweets :)

[buggyboba]

My brain was on one last night, I had a dream about Missy, she kept texting me. It was a wide range of things, lots of flirty innuendo type texts, then selfies...then selfies.

Then, a picture of a dead bug with the caption 'you' and then a picture of my dog in my house, with 'come home now or I'm going to eat it. 😈' and you know what that feels very on brand. But I woke up, so idk if dream Cassie(my dog) is okay, lol but that feels very correct for Missy.

Did I just get the Reader experience?

But this also opens up for a headcannon I have I feel it would be a whirlwind of messages like that for reader, and they are just like "Mis, please I am at work," or wherever. And she is just like smug but also sending ominous messages and occasionally send a number counting down, and an array of emojis. Missy looks dignified and classy, but this monster uses emojis...you can't convince me otherwise. Sometimes it's just emojis, like "Ah yes figure out my picture riddle if you want to continue the conversation."

Missy annoys Reader with spamming their phone and if they don't reply in a timely manner she starts calling. Don't ignore her texts, what are you doing? And it's not because she actually cares, she just likes the control of it, and how annoyed you get, because then she gets to flirt and smooth things over with you.

Reader gets worried when Missy goes radio silent, and texts to see if she is okay, "are you dead?" But then gets VERY worried when she doesn't reply in a timely manner. I can only wonder what Reader feels when Missy gets caught and then put in the vault. 👀😈

[aboutcustardcreams]

For the prompt thingy how about Missy x reader and ♡ "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified"

I was so excited to wrap this up that I didn’t reread so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes. Hope it lives up your expectations. Soft Missy here cuz I love me a soft Missy ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ who doesn’t, lies!

Hold on to something beautiful

Word count: 3600 ish

Your place hadn’t felt like home in a long time if you’re honest. You felt misplaced, wherever you turned. It almost disgusted you to be confined there. It was lonely and dull. You hated it, but you had nowhere else to go. Your place had been the TARDIS for five years, traveling side by side with the woman who day by day grew on you. She showed you the most amazing views, stars and galaxies. The sun itself. To live a stationary life on Earth after having gotten a taste of all those wonders seemed wrong. 

How much time has it been? You wished you lost count. But there was a clock ticking in your head, reminding you of every second spent without her. It’s one of her routine visits to Gallifrey, she told you. In two days she promised to be back. You knew she hadn’t been completely acquitted— every now and then she had to show up, proving she had changed. And she did. You were so so proud of her. 

It’s been months, despite her having promised you to be away only a couple of days. Told you to rest, meet up with your family and friends, before leaving again for another adventure. When you attempted the request to go with her, of course she said no, that it wasn’t necessary, and you had dropped it, truly thinking that a couple of days wouldn’t have been so bad after all. Except that days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. And Gods, if you missed her. 

Not a message, nor an hologram of hers. Completely abandoned in your apartment, with no explanation, no note whatsoever. People say time helps numb the pain, but you can’t bring yourself to agree with them. You can’t remember a single moment you felt an ounce of relief since she left you. It hurt so much, sometimes you feel like you can’t breathe. Time Lords lie. You had been warned before, yet you had hoped foolishly that she wouldn’t lie to you. 

You hated how she saved you and then ruined you. A part of you wished she had erased your memories, if her intention was to leave you like that. 

What hurt the most was the look on her face when she told you she would come back. You still remembered that. She made a promise she knew she was going to break and she looked absolutely fine with it. You wondered if she found another human to travel with. You scoff bitterly at the thought. More like, a new toy to play with. That’s what you had been for her after all. 

Turning your hands into fists, you bite your bottom lip so hard to prevent screaming. You were mad. It was one of those days where the line between sadness and anger was so thin, it blurred. You tried to bring yourself to hate her, yet all you could do was hate yourself for having been foolish enough to allow your feelings to bloom. 

That was your life now; part of your days spent in bed, rarely eating anything. When was the last time you left your house for a breath of fresh air? You didn’t remember. Once a week you had your groceries delivered at home, with the bare minimum to survive. Living was a privilege you did not possess. She would laugh at you, wouldn’t she? Reminding you how weak and fragile human lives truly are. And she would be right.

Your head hurts. It’s not a novel to you. It’s probably dehydration too. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

You let out a humorless, dry chuckle, when you believe you’re hearing the familiar whoosh of the TARDIS echoing in your rooms. You cover your eyes with your palms, before rubbing them angrily with your fingers. The whirring of the blue box used to give you a thrill now all it gives you is a sense of nausea and heartache. “Ugh stop this. Just stop playing games—“, you mutter to yourself. 

A timid squeak follows, but you try to ignore it. You had no idea there was actually a TARDIS inside your room, in its usual spot, by the window. You even started to believe it all happened in your head, Missy, the Universe, the stars and all the galaxies she showed you. 

“What a spectacular landing, I must admit,” the woman in purple gently taps the TARDIS’ door with a pleased grin, before stepping out, rather excited to see you. 

She parts her lips to cheerfully chirp your name, but when she spots you curled up in bed, under a pile of sheets, she stalls, freezes.

“Poppet?” Her hearts shatter in her chest at the sight of your glazed cheeks, tired eyes and ruffled hair. She nervously clears her throat, taking in your unexpected sadness. “Hiya, hot stuff. It’s me, Missy.” 

You think you’ve imagined it. You had to. A bitter chuckle escapes your mouth in fact, “I’m going crazy,” you mutter incredulously. 

Missy’s frown can’t help but deepen. She lightly shakes her head, bemused, horrified by the blank look on your face. 

“Why can’t you just–” you don’t finish your thought and gwan at your bottom lip as if you were pondering on those words. An exhale, “why can’t I just forget you?” 

Missy swallowed, hard. “Is this some kind of joke?” Her throat bobbled. “Because if so, it kinda hurts my feelings, so knock it off,” she could feel her own voice struggling to come out as fluently as she would like. 

You hum. When something or rather someone sit to the side of the mattress, you can’t help but see and feel her presence around you, above you. You can’t imagine it. Her hand reaches out to you, finds your leg and gives an hesitant squeeze, as if she is suddenly unsure whether it’s okay or not to touch you. 

It’s your turn to feel your throat tighten. Chest suddenly to small to contain your heart. 

“Look at me, poppet,” she pleads softly. 

You’re shaking, but it’s not cold what you feel. “Is it really you?”, your voice barely above a whisper. 

A watery smile curves her lips. “Of course!” Her hand moves from your leg to your face, gently cupping it. It feels so cold. You’re cold. Yet you’re under the bedsheets. You exhale shakingly. “Who else could it be?” 

You take a moment to realize everything. You dart your eyes from her to the TARDIS. You couldn’t believe it. Along with the excitement to have all of it back, came a pinch of anger and frustration. So you sit up rather abruptly, and Missy’s hand falls from your face. You let yourself dive into those blue eyes of hers. You could very well let yourself drown without second thoughts, despite everything. 

A pause, before taking action. “Where the bloody hell have you been?”, you push her, taken by anger and frustration. 

Missy looks at you in disbelief. She has never seen you so angry before, not at her at least, “Excuse me?” She stutters out. “Have you gone mad?” 

Your face turns red. “The truth? Maybe,” you nod bitterly. “Possibly. No, wait. Most certainly,” you’re filled with so many questions, you don’t even know where to start. Why was she looking at you as if you had grown a second head was beyond your knowledge though. “You’re the one who left me, I shouldn’t be doing the explanations.” 

Missy swallowed again, nervously. “Okay, so it’s about that,” she reasoned carefully. You flash her a glare and she lifts her hands up defensively. “Alright, fair enough, I’m aware it’s been a little more than a couple of days, but if you could just let me explain—“ you flap a hand at her again, not too hard, but enough to make her squeal, “Oi! Will you stop it?” 

You ignore that. “Do you think I’m stupid? How long do you think it’s been?” 

There’s such a fresh, raw suffering veiling your eyes that causes Missy to act. She cups your face, and when you try to jerk from her grasp, she fights and keeps you there. 

“I mean it. Stop it—“ she pleads, her voice both soft and concerned. “You’re going to make yourself sick.” 

You feel a bit dizzy if you’re honest. But you’re upset, so it’s quite normal, isn’t it? 

“What happened to you?” She urged.

“You really don’t know?” 

“No,” she deadpans. “Anyway, I must tell you you’re lucky my old ways are past me. I used to kill for much less,” she tries to lighten the mood, hoping to finally see you smile. She missed it. 

You’re tempted to hit her again, because how could she not know? She’s a Time Lady for heaven’s sake.

“Don’t make me tie your hands,” she warns you, however there’s no harshness in her voice. She sighs, when you avert your eyes from her, grumbling under your breath. “Just tell me how long it’s been. Ten days? Two weeks?” 

A pause that feels like an eternity follows, before you mutter out, “Six months, Missy.” Her face paled, and your features hardened a bit. “Six fucking months during which you just… disappeared.” 

Slightly shaking her head, Missy winced at that. “No.. that can’t be right. I left for merely six days, not six months.” When you meet her eyes again, she feels completely powerless. “I- I don’t understand. I settled the right coordinates. The TARDIS-“

“I wish you were right,” you sniffled. 

She let out a shaky breath and with the free hand, she lifts your chin towards her. Next thing you feel are her soft, plump lips pressed against your forehead.  

“I’m sorry, poppet. It was a mistake…”

You slightly pull away. A wave of conflicting emotions battle against each other. “I thought I was never going to see you again.” When she shakes shakes her head, you ask. “What happened?” 

“I was in Gallifrey like I told you,” there is no lie within her words. “All boring stuff and then, on my way back I spotted some Lupari ships in my trajectory, well they spotted me,” she clarifies with an eye roll. “I had to throw them off so that they wouldn’t follow me on Earth.” 

You frowned. “I didn’t think Lupari were dangerous. Don’t they consider humans their best friends?” Your question raises a little smile upon Missy’s face. 

Such a clever girl, you are. 

“They do,” when she pulls you closer, you nuzzle in her shoulder. She feels so warm towards you. It’s like she is reviving your aching body just by being close. Missy can’t help but graze her fingers up and down your forearm, as she holds you. “I attacked them once. I wasn’t… merciful,” she admits with a sad chuckle you don’t reciprocate. “I wasn’t scared for me but for you.” 

You bit your inner cheek. Was it her way to say it was your fault she left for six months? 

“Say something…” she uttered, breaking the silence. 

You pull away slowly. “I can’t be doing this again, Missy. I can’t live with the constant fear that one of these days you’ll leave me because you’re trying to protect me.” 

Missy felt like her whole world came crushing down upon her shoulders. “I won’t leave you again. I told you it was a mistake—“ 

You wince, slightly pulling away. “Mistakes can happen again, though”, you bow your head and fix your gaze upon your trembling fingers. 

Missy clenched her jaw. A solitary tear slid down her cheek. “You’re right,” she concedes, sadly. When you look up, she performs the best reassuring smile she can give you. “But I can promise you to always do my best not to make any. Or at least, not many of them.” 

You let out a watery chuckle as you nod. Finally that sound she missed so much comes back to her ears. 

“I missed you. I .. missed you so much.” 

“I know. I can see that,” she coos, stroking your cheeks and brushing some hair from your face. “Quite an effect I have on people, right?”

You laugh again, finally feeling yourself relax. She beams down at you, opens her arms wide in the silent request to snuggle again in her embrace. You didn’t need to be told twice. You squeeze her so tight, you become one with her. 

“Missed you too by the way,” she pipes up. 

“Oh, I know.” You mimic her tone, grinning. 

“I could go back in time. Rearrange the coordinates. Show up the day after I dropped you on Earth and prevent all this…”

But you shake your head. “It’s okay, it’s done now. We are allowed to be sad about it and start from here.” 

You can tell she isn’t convinced by your words, “are you sure?” 

You nod your head, before giving her another squeeze. She racks her fingertips through your hair so gently, you let out a pleasant hum. 

“What else happened?” Your next question came unexpected, in fact she rather abruptly stopped her cuddle. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I know you told the truth. However, you’re omitting something too.” 

It shocks her how easily you can read her like an open book. It’s like a superpower you have which more often than not leaves her stalling, unprepared. 

“I’m not,” she objects, her voice sounding  almost childishly. “I was trying to keep you safe, that’s all.”

You hummed, unimpressed. “From the only species that clearly would never harm humans?” 

Her lips twitched in an amused smile, despite everything. You were too clever for your own good. 

“I knew it wasn’t safe for me to keep a poppet with a brain…”

You chuckled, pulling on her clothes. “Come on! Tell me.” 

“Fine,” she mouthed feigning annoyance, “I was running from the Lupari at first, yes. But then… I guess, they got me thinking. All my life,” she trails off. “The decisions— questionable decisions I made throughout each regeneration of mine came haunting me like… living nightmares.”

There’s genuine interest in your gaze, fondness, more than anything, and it drives the Time Lady absolutely crazy. No judgment whatsoever. 

“Turns out, I may be good now but it doesn’t change who I was and who I will always be to those I caused pain. And the Lupari are just one of the many creatures I tried to bend to my will,” you reached out to touch her hand. She smiled at the gesture and continued. “I thought of you,” a fleeting smile caught her lips. You grin back, and when she finally meets your gaze, you blush. “Of the annoying yet brilliant ray of sunshine you are, always so nice, always so kind. You’re everything I am not and if you keep following me, my past will haunt you too. And if it comes to that, I’m not sure I could bear the thought of your light being shut down because of it.”  

Slightly shaking your head, your eyebrows knit in a frown. “Do you think I don’t know?” You argue, fondly. “Do you really think I’m clueless about your past?” She falls quiet, lips pressed in a thin line. You lean against her, your head resting right above her collarbone. She immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and you took one of her hands in yours, deciding to play with her fingers as you spoke. “I always knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to travel with you. Hell, it wasn’t for a pointless girly book club I signed for. I knew the risks of our life together. One spent in the stars is… everything but ordinary and devoid of risks.”

She tilted her head to the side. Her lips so close to your ear, “See? Since meeting me, you’re already cussing more,” she muttered matter of factly. 

“Shut it!” You nudge at her with a chuckle. “I did that before meeting you too.”

She grinned, remembering the time you stepped inside the TARDIS for the first time. Maybe you were right.

“I just don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Then don’t,” you made it sound so simple, for a moment she really considered it. You turn around, so that you could be looking at each other more easily. “Don’t shut me out. I’m here to stay for as long as you’ll have me.” 

“I left you for six months,” she grumbled, rather angry with herself. “Anything could have happened in six months…” 

“But it didn’t,” you insist, “I’m fine.” You wanted to add now, but you kept that to yourself. 

“Except that you’re not! And I caused this. The only person I never wanted to hurt,” her lip twitched in a guilty grimace as tears started wetting her cheeks like rivers of guilt. 

You looked like someone whose life had been sucked away by force. And that had been because you’re not great at dealing with sudden changes. Plus you had been worried sick about her. Missing her was only one of the many thoughts that kept you struggling. 

“Then stop wallowing in your own self pity and do something about it,” you scolded lightly. “I want to be with you, Missy. Why all of the sudden it feels like you don’t want me anymore?” 

“It’s not that!” She exclaimed, indignant. 

“Then help me understand.” 

“How can I not want you with me if you’re literally everywhere I turn? Even when I close my eyes, I see your face, I hear your voice. I couldn’t leave you behind if I wanted to!” She fought against the trembling of her voice as she spoke. 

You nodded quietly. “Feels like I’m a terrible burden.”

“Stop it-“ she warns you. You look at her confusedly and she groans. “Don’t you dare. You’re not. Never. Do not turn this around.” Her voice is firm, though her eyes are red and puffy as if she is about to cry. 

“All I’m saying is, we were fine. We had fun together, didn’t we? Have I imagined that?” 

A grimace. “No, of course not.” 

Frowning, you make another attempt. “Then what changed?” 

“Nothing,” she is quick to clarify. Too quick. “I’m just—I’m scared.” 

“Of what?” You pressed, gentler now. When she darts her eyes from you to the TARDIS, you place your hand upon her knee. “Missy, what scares you?” 

“You.” If it’s a question, a statement, a possibility, you’re not sure. You have no time to ask that she continues. “Me,” she adds. “You and I. Us. This.” 

“Are you speaking in codes?” Your attempt at being funny kind of works because she smiles, even if just for a bit. You do too, tongue peeking through your teeth. Something Missy cannot resist. 

“Just tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours,” you tease gently. She lets out a watery chuckle that you wish you could record and keep with you forever to listen anytime. 

“Okay,” she bows her head and exhales. Her eyes fall shut to keep a new trail of fresh, hot, annoying tears from clouding her vision. When it doesn’t work, she rubs her fingertips to the corner of her eyes, if possible, only making things worse. 

“Hey,” you take her hands in yours, giving her an encouraging smile.

“The truth is I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified,” she says in one breath. 

Your eyes open wide. “Wha—?” She doesn’t see the huge grin that’s rising on your face, nor the wave of joy that just lit up your eyes. Too embarrassed, she is focusing elsewhere. 

“You heard,” she grumbled. 

“Look at me.” 

A wave of her hand. “And being laughed at. I pass.” 

You roll your eyes and poke at her arm. “Please,” your voice sounds delightful, relieved even. 

“You don’t have to say anything, really. Even less that thing, either pity or compassion, can’t tell the difference honestly— don’t use it. It’s.. eek. The sole thought makes me want to throw up.”

You snorted at her rambling. It was so cute. She was… so damn cute. “I love you too, you stupid woman.” 

Eyebrows shot up. Face turned as fast as a missile thrown in the sky. “You, w-what?” 

“You heard me,” you crossed your arms over your chest, cocking an eyebrow at her. 

What happens next feels like a shot of pure adrenaline for both. Missy grabbed your face with both delicacy and a pinch of urgency, and kissed you. How stupid had she been to run from the only thing that had been able to make her feel real emotions. 

She loved you. And you loved her. 

The kiss was slow and soft. Unpretentious. During which Missy realized your lips were like nectar to her. While her fingers grazed over your heated cheeks, your hands moved to cling onto her blouse. You feel her smirk against your mouth. Three hearts beating in pure harmony. 

When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with hers, looking at you with nothing but pure glee. You beamed, her hands clasping in your hair and sending you goosebumps over the nape of your neck. She leaned further again, eyes darkening a bit as your tongue swept over your lips. When she kissed you again, the kiss was deeper, needier, sloppier, it made you cackle in her mouth. 

“What’s so funny?” Her voice never sounded lighter. 

You scrunch up your nose adorably. “Not funny, but silly. Both you and I.”

Missy looked at you, bemused. Your lips twitched in a fleeting smile, as you propped up and kissed the crease between her brows. 

She melted. Quite literally.

“I love you, Missy,” you say in a whisper. “I’ll love you unconditionally for as long as your hearts desire.”

Her polished fingers delicately spider over your abdomen, before pushing you with a gentle push against the mattress behind you. Another chuckle. She could honestly feast on that sound, among many other things. “How does forever sound?” 

You hummed. “A reasonable amount of time.” 

She smiled and you smiled back. 

[tonsillessscum]

[lykoiii]

giving up and posting thoschei yuri on its own

[cas-is-queer]

Talking with other Doctor Who fans is such an Experience because sometimes you bond on a soul-level and perfectly understand each other. You hold the exact same opinions, but can also have friendy discourse and theorizing. It is A Good Time. Other times, they'll try to tell you Clara was a bad companion; they skipped nine; they hated Rose; they didn't even watch 13 because they didn't like the idea of the doctor being a woman; they hate the master, specifically Missy; they think season 10 and the 12th doctor suck; etc etc. Like. What. Are you stupid. Genuine question, are you stupid. No. Stop. Go watch it all again and try to have an ounce of good opinions. Try Again. Idiot.