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Description
"You shouldn't have done that." You muttered, scowling at the piece of paper in your hand as a small line of blood became evident on your thumb.
Papercut.
Your eyes watered as the-really-quite-big mark of revenge from what-had-previously-been-a-tree began to sting like a bee's sting.
Scrunching up the paper into an exceptionally tight ball - careful to leave the affected thumb out from working - you threw the paper's corpse across the room, spectacularly missing the bin and hitting the wall of the tree house you'd taken residence in.
And the paper ball formed the perfect trigonometry scenario as it bounced off the wall and hit the Master on the head.
He lifted his head from the paper he'd been drawing on and scowled.
"(Y/n)." His tone was warning as he stared daggers at you. You could practically feel the blood running down your face.
"What?" You asked innocently.
"Don't." He looked back to the scrawls he'd drawn, circular Gallifreyan mixed in with a pretty sketch of the citadel in Arcadia. "Not right now." He whispered, his voice barely a whisper as he sighed slowly.
Nostalgia made him vulnerable. It showed his weaknesses. Why couldn't nostalgia be more like the Eve of War?
"What's that?" You asked, scooting closer to him as you hung off his shoulder.
"Nothing. A fairytale. A legend at most."
"A story?"
"It can be." He glanced at you, inhaling. He held the breath. "It. Can."
"But stories and legends and fairy tales all have something that inspired it. What inspired this?"
He paused for a while, bordering on saying something but not quite able to produce the words.
"An old civilisation. Many many many years ago. Before you were born, in fact."
"That long?" You laughed. He didn't.
"An old civilisation that tried to keep peace with weapons."
"Like Earth?"
"Precisely like Earth, but on a much bigger, much more phenomenal scale. A race of people that could have ruled the universe!" His words became more passionate.
You edged away slightly when that familiar malevolent look entered his eyes.
"A civilisation that could have rose to be the highest power in the whole of creation, deciding what was right and what was wrong-...deciding who lived and who died." He grinned. It was very unnerving. Especially since he'd stabbed the pencil into the paper. The pencil now sat prominently sticking out of the wooden floor of the treehouse.
"That civilisation sounds...twisted..."
"But don't you see? This is what the human race could become-...no...will become. One day. I know it. I can feel it."
"Riiight..." You edged away a little, shuffling out of arms reach.
"You're not allowed to think I'm mad. My insanity is because of you, dearest (Y/n)." He reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it to him in both of his.
"Me?"
"Yes you! You've shown me the error of believing in passers-by. You've shown me how you're the only one who'll ever believe in the goodness in my heart. My intentions are good, can't you see? If we ruled the universe, we could bring an end to all that is bad. We could create a new civilisation built on the forgotten values of humanity; we could be Adam and Eve!"
You stared for a moment, mouth agape as you were frozen to the spot. It took a good minute before you spoke, all the time staring into his eyes with shock.
"Us?" You blinked.
"I know you can see the sanity and brilliance behind my words and rambles. Please, won't you join me in my quest?"
You stared again, really quite unsure of his actual sanity, or what little he had left of it.
"Us?" You asked again, wondering whether you should get some chloroform.
"Yes, please, won't you say yes?!" He kissed your hand.
"...Actually us?" You frowned at your hand pressed against his chest. He had a very rapid heartbeat...
"Actually us." He entwined his fingers with yours from the back of your hand, pleadingly hopeful eyes reminding you of how much faith he had in you.
You almost blacked out as a rush of thoughts passed through every part of your conscious mind. He was practically asking you to stay with him forever, like a married couple.
The corner of your mouth creased slightly, and he beamed as he pulled you into a tight hug, your face buried in his shoulder.
"I must be mad..." You laughed, a tear rolling down your cheek at the realisation that he wouldn't let you go easily.
"We're all mad here." He whispered into your ear, and he kissed your cheek chastely.
"My little mad Master." You muttered, leaning on him heavily so he'd fall back against the wooden wall of the treehouse so you could wrap yourself around his left arm, snuggling into his black hoodie.
"I get my insanity from you." He prodded you in the side, making you squirm.
"Of course you do." You rolled your eyes before shutting them, focusing on the precious warmth his body heat provided you with.
Because a life like this tended to get very cold...

Description
"You shouldn't have done that." You muttered, scowling at the piece of paper in your hand as a small line of blood became evident on your thumb.
Papercut.
Your eyes watered as the-really-quite-big mark of revenge from what-had-previously-been-a-tree began to sting like a bee's sting.
Scrunching up the paper into an exceptionally tight ball - careful to leave the affected thumb out from working - you threw the paper's corpse across the room, spectacularly missing the bin and hitting the wall of the tree house you'd taken residence in.
And the paper ball formed the perfect trigonometry scenario as it bounced off the wall and hit the Master on the head.
He lifted his head from the paper he'd been drawing on and scowled.
"(Y/n)." His tone was warning as he stared daggers at you. You could practically feel the blood running down your face.
"What?" You asked innocently.
"Don't." He looked back to the scrawls he'd drawn, circular Gallifreyan mixed in with a pretty sketch of the citadel in Arcadia. "Not right now." He whispered, his voice barely a whisper as he sighed slowly.
Nostalgia made him vulnerable. It showed his weaknesses. Why couldn't nostalgia be more like the Eve of War?
"What's that?" You asked, scooting closer to him as you hung off his shoulder.
"Nothing. A fairytale. A legend at most."
"A story?"
"It can be." He glanced at you, inhaling. He held the breath. "It. Can."
"But stories and legends and fairy tales all have something that inspired it. What inspired this?"
He paused for a while, bordering on saying something but not quite able to produce the words.
"An old civilisation. Many many many years ago. Before you were born, in fact."
"That long?" You laughed. He didn't.
"An old civilisation that tried to keep peace with weapons."
"Like Earth?"
"Precisely like Earth, but on a much bigger, much more phenomenal scale. A race of people that could have ruled the universe!" His words became more passionate.
You edged away slightly when that familiar malevolent look entered his eyes.
"A civilisation that could have rose to be the highest power in the whole of creation, deciding what was right and what was wrong-...deciding who lived and who died." He grinned. It was very unnerving. Especially since he'd stabbed the pencil into the paper. The pencil now sat prominently sticking out of the wooden floor of the treehouse.
"That civilisation sounds...twisted..."
"But don't you see? This is what the human race could become-...no...will become. One day. I know it. I can feel it."
"Riiight..." You edged away a little, shuffling out of arms reach.
"You're not allowed to think I'm mad. My insanity is because of you, dearest (Y/n)." He reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it to him in both of his.
"Me?"
"Yes you! You've shown me the error of believing in passers-by. You've shown me how you're the only one who'll ever believe in the goodness in my heart. My intentions are good, can't you see? If we ruled the universe, we could bring an end to all that is bad. We could create a new civilisation built on the forgotten values of humanity; we could be Adam and Eve!"
You stared for a moment, mouth agape as you were frozen to the spot. It took a good minute before you spoke, all the time staring into his eyes with shock.
"Us?" You blinked.
"I know you can see the sanity and brilliance behind my words and rambles. Please, won't you join me in my quest?"
You stared again, really quite unsure of his actual sanity, or what little he had left of it.
"Us?" You asked again, wondering whether you should get some chloroform.
"Yes, please, won't you say yes?!" He kissed your hand.
"...Actually us?" You frowned at your hand pressed against his chest. He had a very rapid heartbeat...
"Actually us." He entwined his fingers with yours from the back of your hand, pleadingly hopeful eyes reminding you of how much faith he had in you.
You almost blacked out as a rush of thoughts passed through every part of your conscious mind. He was practically asking you to stay with him forever, like a married couple.
The corner of your mouth creased slightly, and he beamed as he pulled you into a tight hug, your face buried in his shoulder.
"I must be mad..." You laughed, a tear rolling down your cheek at the realisation that he wouldn't let you go easily.
"We're all mad here." He whispered into your ear, and he kissed your cheek chastely.
"My little mad Master." You muttered, leaning on him heavily so he'd fall back against the wooden wall of the treehouse so you could wrap yourself around his left arm, snuggling into his black hoodie.
"I get my insanity from you." He prodded you in the side, making you squirm.
"Of course you do." You rolled your eyes before shutting them, focusing on the precious warmth his body heat provided you with.
Because a life like this tended to get very cold...