sclfmastery:

Send an accusation and the muse can only answer with “guilty” or “not guilty.” 

An accusation thoroughly reciprocated.  The Master sits up in their shared bed, skin bare and sleep-warmed, body softer than it might have been in loud and reckless youth, back still sore from Missy’s stab wound.  But still alive, and still unquestioningly adoring, even through generations of senseless malice. 

     “Guilty.” 

And glad of it, my love of loves. 

sclfmastery:

Send an accusation and the muse can only answer with “guilty” or “not guilty.” 

 There’s not a moment’s hesitation.

        “Guilty.”

The Master twines his fingers with the Doctor’s, giving her the gift of his gentleness and his quiet, two things that are breathtakingly rare commodities coming from the Whole Screaming World On Fire.