#anyways he answered so now he can expand on the inaccuracies of your question and its implications

[gemkun]

anonymous said : *looks at Sunday & Aven* hey Ratio are you Morosexual by chance?

      ⸻       ❝   no.   ❞   that   is   all   he   deigns   to   reveal   ,   regarding   the   aspect   of   his   personal   preference.   however   ,   in   good   nature   ,   he   cannot   allow   this   misconception   to   persist.   ❝   they   are   not   morons.   yes   ,   they   have   committed   foolish   deeds   ,   but   their   aptitude   in   their   respective   departments   is   unparalleled.   ❞   unequivocally   so.   ❝   by   definition   ,   they   are   the   furthest   ,   possible   examples.   ❞

[lewistoferrari]

Hi👋🏽 back again. I wanted to expand a bit on some things and answer your questions. Had to write it in my docs app bcz it is a lot again. Sorry for another word vomit.

I had considered giving him a different profession especially because of the fact he's an angel sent to protect God's creations. As an angel, the biggest no-no is harming humanity in any way, form or fashion.

But, even then, as an angel he'd always been a soldier of god. He's used to fighting, he's used to wrecking havoc in heaven's name. It's not uncommon to see angel's causing dismay in the lives of mortals; the story of Job for example. Or even the book of Exodus. Angels sent by god, taking lives indiscriminately, all for a greater purpose.

He's not unused to the unsavory task, but even still it is a strange role for an angel to take on.

I imagine he's drawn to it, not only because he's already experience as a soldier, but because he can provide comfort. The soldiers of both sides, the innocents caught in between, everyone is suffering. All he wants to do is ease humanity's pain.

Or, maybe he was drawn to it for the sense of belonging. For the companionship he has in his team. For the fact, as an angel, he's never had to lean on another person before. He's a bit arrogant, deservingly so. He's made to be perfect, had no tact with his words at all and probably came off a bit too prideful when he first enlisted all those years ago. It breaks him down, makes him more human. Makes him understand humanity better. I imagine, to him, this felt like his lowest point, made the assignment seem more like a punishment. He'd been prohibited from using his angelic abilities, he can't cheat his way out of the morning PT.

Anyway. I'll go on about that topic forever if I could. Imagining his first days on earth, his confusion and the heavy decision in picking his field is just so fun.

He's been an angel for as long as humanity built its first empires. He’s probably one of the youngest in heaven, no exact age, I doubt that's important to angels as they are immortal beings alongside all their other perfect traits. Also, I like to thing younger angels are a bit less rigid than their elder counterparts. They're a bit more human-like in emotions; cry a bit easier, feel loss a bit harder. They're not as strict on order, they’re not afraid to pull a few pranks to get a laugh out of the young village girl that'd been crying her eyes out for hours after her mom finally threw away that old, raggedy doll.

If he ages now that he's human? I haven't really put thought into that. I want to say yes, but he very much still carries that DNA of perfection. Maybe he does, but he's just one of those people who'll forever look 10 years younger than what they actually are.

Like, it's so funny to imagine: “Yea, I just hit 58 a couple months ago”

ಠ,_｣ಠ “You look 35, wtf”

Sorry for the ramble😭 I'm also so happy you're enjoying this, istg I'm so shy normally. It feels amazing to share these thoughts with someone. Also, excuse any religious inaccuracies. I haven't actually read a bible in years. I'm going off memory and imagination for a lot of this.

well going off memory and imagination is doing you a whole lot of good actually. also i’m giggling at the aging bit. honestly makes me think of the “black don’t crack” line lmaoo we never actually look our age and it amazes people for some reason.

but i’m so glad you shared this with me and answered me 🩵

and you tell me that you’re not much of a writer???

YOU’RE SO GOOD AT THIS

[recurring-polynya]

Tokusatsu Au where Rukia plays the lead actress in a superhero action show. Renji plays one of the villains and they are The most popular ship in the fandom. Bonus points if Orihime plays the main villain and loves every second of it.

This was the very first prompt I got, and I fell in love. Unfortunately, aside from a brief period of being grotesquely fascinated with Power Rangers as teen, I know almost nothing about tokusatsu. I did as much research as I could and I attempted to watch an episode of Kamen Rider, but my eyes glazed over halfway through. Anyway, please forgive my inaccuracies, I wrote this with my heart.

ao3 | ff.net

🏍    ⚡   🎬

“Uh, looks like we’re almost out of time,” the panel moderator for “High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe!: A Sneak Peak at Season 5” declared, “but would you be willing to take just a few audience questions?”

Head Screenwriter Kurosaki Ichigo glanced at Leading Actress Kuchiki Rukia out of the corner of his eye, and she gave a tiny nod.

“Yeah, sure!” he replied.

There was already a young woman waiting at the microphone, practically vibrating with anxiety. She was wearing a t-shirt that had ZabiTo4Ever!! handwritten in marker on it. Rukia knew, deep down in her bones, what the question was going to be.

“Hi, yes, hello, big fan of your work! My question is: are Tomoe and Zabimaru going to kiss this season?”

“No,” Rukia started to say.

“As you probably know,” Ichigo said loudly on top of her, “the show holds close to the core plot points of Kuna-sensei’s manga, although, because of her minimalist style, we do expand a lot of the dialogue and filler scenes. She has said in several interviews that High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe! is not a romance manga, so the odds of Tomoe and Zabimaru ever kissing on screen are very, very low.”

The young woman stared at Ichigo grumpily. “Does this also count Zabimaru’s secret college student identity, Satonako Takeru?”

Ichigo stared back at her. “Yes. It does.”

The next question came from a person wearing a full suit of HellKnight’s plasma armor made out of overlapping plates of cardboard. Rukia was kind of impressed by it. She wondered if he could sit down.

“Hi, Kurosaki-sensei, I am a huge fan of your work,” a voice emanated from deep within the cardboard. “I was wondering if you are influenced at all by fanworks, and if Episode 73: Pride is on the Line!: The Bake Sale Must Go On! was based in any way on the classic fanfiction, ‘Tell Me All Your Best Lies’? It’s the top story by kudos in the ZabiTo tag, which I might point out is the most popular shipping category on AO3.”

Ichigo cleared his throat gently. “I am contractually not allowed to read fanfiction, although I do enjoy fanart! There are some incredibly talented artists in the fandom, although for some reason, no one ever wants to draw pictures of Lead Screenwriters.”

“I’ll draw you, sleeping on the set like you always do,” Rukia offered, and that got a pretty big laugh. Rukia’s Tumblr of behind-the-scenes doodle comics was beloved among the fandom.

The next question was from a nonbinary person wearing a big poufy skirt and a hairstyle that would make their make-up and hair guru, Yumichika, sit up and take notice. “Hi, this is a question for Kuchiki-san! If the show is going to roughly keep pace with the manga, as it has done up until now, you should be shooting the storyline where Tomoe and Queen Bloodbuzz switch bodies later this year. I was wondering if you could comment on how you feel about filming that storyline?”

Finally! A good one! “Yes!” Rukia nodded eagerly. “I don’t usually like to speak for my fellow cast members, but Orihime and I are beyond excited about playing each other. We’ve been studying each other’s mannerisms and practicing already! Does anyone want to hear my Queen Bloodbuzz cackle?” She wagged her eyebrows as the audience cheered. “Here goes-- bwaHaHaHaHAHAHAHAAHAAAHAAAAAAAA!”

“Bonechilling,” Ichigo commented dryly as the audience erupted.

“Amazing, Kuchiki-san!” the moderator exclaimed. “I think there is time for one more, but this will be the last question!”

A tall girl in a full set of High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe motorcycle leathers stepped to the microphone. She was holding a notebook. “Hello!” she warbled. “In a 2020 interview with the Psychics and Sidekicks podcast, Abarai Renji was asked about his opinion on ZabiTo as a ship, and he replied,” she consulted her notebook, “‘Tomoe is such a cool lady and talented Battle Clairvoyant, and she always follows her heart and stays true to herself. I think that Zabimaru can’t help but be impressed with her, even though they’re enemies, and I always try to roll that into our on-screen interactions.’ I know that in the past you’ve refused to comment on the ship, but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on, y’know, his thoughts?”

“Well, he’s correct, of course, Tomoe is very cool and admirable,” Rukia replied, which drew a few laughs, although it seemed like the audience was leaning forward in anticipation of her answer. “Like I said, I don’t like to speak for other cast members. I’ll be doing a big cast panel with Abarai and Inoue and Matsumoto and Ukitake tomorrow afternoon, and I hope you all can make it! See you then!”

The moderator thanked them enthusiastically, and then Ichigo and Rukia slipped out the back guest entrance.

“Evasive as always, Kuchiki,” Ichigo teased.

“Whatever,” Rukia sniffed. “The higher ups say we’re not supposed to comment on stuff like that, and I was not commenting. By the way, how many secret fanfic accounts are you up to? Four?”

“It’s only three!” Ichigo paused. “I wrote that fanfic the guy brought up.”

“Of course you did,” Rukia sighed. “I do blame you personally for the popularity of the damn ship.”

“Me? Blame Kuna for making up two such sexy, emotionally constipated dumbasses!” Ichigo defended.

“Also, it’s not Ichigo’s fault that you and Abarai have insane chemistry.”

Rukia spun around, grinning. “Orihime!”

Rukia’s two co-stars, Inoue Orihime and Abarai Renji, the portrayers of Tomoe’s demonic archnemeses, stood in the hallway behind them.

“We sat in on your panel!” Orihime beamed. “You two were brilliant!”

“Don’t worry,” Renji added. “We were incognito.”

“Incognito” was relative, Rukia supposed, when you were at Tokyo’s biggest tokusatsu

convention.

Orihime was wearing a Zabimaru outfit so detailed that she probably could have won a prize down at the cosplay hall. She had the gravity-defying ponytail, the eyeliner, the insane widow's peak (complete with forehead tatts), the fangs, the motorcycle boots. The paper mache snake skull helmet was a little lopsided, but it was charming. She had her top zipped a little higher than canon, but that was forgivable, too.

Renji had taken the opposite tack of looking as much like a normal person-- or at least a normal Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe superfan-- as possible. Relaxed fit jeans and an oversized hoodie de-emphasized his ultra-fit physique. He was wearing a t-shirt with a very dramatic rendering of Orihime that said “Queen Bloodbuzz can step on me!” and a ball cap with the logo of Seireitei University, the fictional college Tomoe and Takeru attended.

“You think you’re in disguise,” Rukia pointed out, “but there are thousands of teen girls in this place with entire Tumblrs dedicated to your stupid face when you’re out of costume.”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at her. “You underestimate me, Rukia. I have bought… new sunglasses.” With a flourish, he whipped out a pair of the dorkiest wayfarers she’d ever seen, and flipped them onto his face. “I’ve disappeared! Who am I? Where am I?”

“You look really great, Orihime,” Ichigo said, his cheeks coloring a little bit. “Did you get Uryuu or Yumichika to help you with that costume?” In his continuing theme of doing things he wasn’t supposed to, Ichigo had finally started dating Orihime on the downlow around the time they finished up filming last season. It had done absolutely nothing for how shy he still got around her. They were, in Rukia’s opinion, cute as hell.

“Oh, no, that would be cheating!” Orihime replied, wagging a finger at him. “Well…maybe I did cheat, just a tiny bit. Renji helped me make the helmet and he held up references for me while I was painting on the tattoos.”

“Only the forehead ones,” Renji quickly added.

“He wouldn’t even offer feedback on my booby tattoos!” Orihime frowned. She leaned forward. “Rukia, how do they look?”

Ichigo turned even redder.

“Perfect, as in all you do!” Rukia replied loftily.

“What’s everyone got coming up next?” Renji asked. “I was thinking of slipping out and trying to pick up some real coffee.”

“I’m judging a villainess-themed cosplay competition,” Orihime chirped. “But I’m dying for a blueberry caramel iced latte. Renji, my henchman, pleeeeease!”

“Of course, my liege,” Renji replied in his Zabimaru voice.

It’s not like it had been a hard decision to accept the role of the motorcycle-riding, badass heroine of one of the most popular manga of the last decade, but it had turned out to be one of the best decisions of Rukia’s life. not just her career. Aside from a few of the money-obsessed executives, she liked nearly everyone in the cast and crew, but the fact that the fact that the ruthless, homicidal, literally Hell-spawned villains of the show were played by the two sweetest marshmallow people she had ever met just took the cake. Renji and Orihime had already known each other from some voicework they had done previously, and their excitement at working together on a live-action project had infected the entire cast from the start. Rukia wasn’t sure, but she strongly suspected that Renji was the one who had hyped Orihime up to ask Ichigo out.

“I have a writers’ workshop I’m moderating this afternoon, and I wanted to review the writing samples people sent in,” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head. “I’d love to stop by that cosplay contest, though, at least for a few minutes.”

“You’ll be needing caffeine, too, then, eh?” Renji offered. “Hot, black, and in the largest cup they make, as usual?”

“Ugh, you’re the best,” Ichigo groaned. “You wanna power-up this season? Costume update? You know what? Maybe I’ll just have you defeat Tomoe once and for all, no one likes her anyway.”

“C’mon, you know I’m the world’s number one Tomoe simp, don’t do that!” Renji laughed.

Rukia rolled her eyes. “I’m free and I could use some fresh air. Besides, it’s going to take all your dumb muscles just to carry Kurosaki’s vat of coffee back here.”

“Cool!” Renji proclaimed. “We’ll be back soon!”

“Thanks, Renjiiiii!” Orihime waved.

“You need to stop off and put on a disguise?” Renji asked.

“No point in it, I always get recognized,” Rukia sighed, pulling her sunglasses out of her purse anyway.

“Here,” Renji said, plunking his hat on her head. “Maybe this will help.”

“Thanks,” Rukia replied, and then did a double take. “Whaaaaaat is on your head?”

“Shut up!” Renji laughed. He usually shaved his head when they were filming, because it made it easier to deal with the make-up and wigs, but since they were between seasons, he’d grown his hair out into a short, tousled mop of reddish-brown waves. He looked, for the lack of a better word, dreamy. “I shot a movie over the summer, and they wanted me to look softer.”

Rukia looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. “You didn’t tell me you were doing a movie!”

“Oh, it was just a little indy romcom thing. I wasn’t sure it was gonna pan out, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“You were in a romcom? You’re kidding me!” They ducked out of a side door of the convention center into the bright sunshine.

“Yeah, it’s about a guy who goes to the gym to try to get ripped to impress a girl, and makes friends with me, this nice, already ripped dude who gives him lifting tips and encourages him a bunch. By the end of the movie, it turns out we have crushes on each other.”

“Oh, no, that sounds really cute, actually!”

“It was written by a woman who graduated from one of Ichigo’s writing workshops. The script was really snappy and Ichigo thought having someone like me as the gym guy would give it just a bit of campy cachet. You know what a good sense he’s got for stuff like that.”

“That was cool of you to go out on a limb a little,” Rukia replied.

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d been wanting to try something like that for a while, actually.”

Rukia blinked. “You aren’t… you aren’t thinking of leaving the show, are you?”

“Huh? No. No! No, the show means the world to me, I would never. But… it’s not gonna run forever, y’know?”

“I would have guessed you’d want to be a big action star or something!” Rukia said, throwing a few air punches. “That’s my dream!”

Renji stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah, that’s what I thought I wanted when I first got into acting. I’d read the Tomoe manga, and I thought playing Zabimaru would be a good jumping-off point, besides just being a cool character overall.”

“Is that… not true?” Rukia frowned.

“Oh, I mean, I guess so! I didn’t really know about the fandom, though and… to be honest, I’m kinda into the idea that there are all these fans who think I’m complex and redeemable?”

Rukia regarded him out of the corner of her eye. “They just want to fix you.”

“Maybe! Ichigo made me read this one fanfic that was eight thousand words of the reader getting sick and Zabimaru making them soup? And feeding them the soup? I still haven’t decided how I feel about it.”

“How does he have time to find these things? Does he even sleep?”

“Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to be well-rounded and it was fun. I’m still mostly an action guy, but I wouldn’t mind doin’ something with a romantic subplot. A period drama or something like that. I look pretty good in hakama, you know.”

“I bet you do,” Rukia laughed. She squinted at him, but his expression was unreadable behind the shades. Renji didn’t have the classic leading man looks, not like her ridiculously famous older brother, but she could definitely see him as the best friend, the B-plot romance, with his cute, messy hair and that big doofy grin.

“By the way, I’m sorry you had to field that question about me spilling my romantic sensibilities on that podcast.”

Rukia laughed. “You didn’t even answer the question, either! These people are relentless!”

Renji stopped at a street corner and peered down the various possible directions they could go. “Which way feels like it might have a coffee shop?”

“You didn’t have one in mind before we left? I thought you knew where we were going!”

“Nah, I just like to go out and see what there is.”

“I can look up a map,” Rukia said, reaching in her bag for her phone.

“Let’s just go this way,” Renji said, stepping out into the street in the direction that had the WALK light. Rukia sighed and had to scramble to catch up with him.

“So, what do you think about it?”

“Huh?” Rukia asked. “Think about what?”

“Our ship. ZabiTo.”

“I can’t believe you just said that word out loud. And you know we’re not supposed to give our opinion on it!”

“Aw, c’mon, we’re not supposed to give public statements on our opinions. I don’t think there’s any harm in talking between ourselves. We’re in disguise, even.”

“‘Disguise’,” Rukia sniffed.

“You don’t like it, I can tell.”

“He’s a bad guy! Everyone always talks about chemistry, and that may be true, but I just don’t think that Tomoe could ever get over his acts of violence and cruelty.”

“Queen Bloodbuzz is cruel. Zabimaru is not cruel.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but still. He’s kidnapped just about all of Tomoe’s friends and or turned them into monsters at one time or another. He’s always setting Karakura Town on fire or flooding it with magic lizard goo. He ruined the sports festival.”

“Maybe the sports festival deserved to be ruined,” Renji muttered under his breath.

“Okay, you’ve got a point on that one,” Rukia admitted.

“It’s really clear though, that he’s got some agenda beyond just simping for Queen Bloodbuzz--”

“The simping for Queen Bloodbuzz is the most relatable thing about him, to be honest.”

“Granted. But, what if he’s got a good reason for everything he does, actually? What if he’s doing all of this against his own moral code as a means of infiltrating Hell itself and getting himself into a position of trust so that he can bring down the Lords of Hell from the inside?”

Rukia slipped her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. “Does Kuna give you Zabimaru spoilers?” The reclusive creator High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe! was only barely involved with the television show, but she did privately meet with each of the cast members about once a year. Most of Rukia’s meetings consisted of Kuna giving her constructive criticism on her battle poses.

“No, mostly we practice sneering,” Renji replied. “But I gotta play the guy, so I gotta think about this, you know, what motivates him? I mean, you’re probably right, it would never work out. But unlike Tomoe, whose principles would call for her to ignore any attraction she has to him, Zabimaru has the freedom to pine for her, perhaps because his love is futile and he doesn’t think he deserves it anyway.”

“That’s kinda dark, dude,” Rukia frowned.

“Yes, well, that is the kind of character acting that netted me the 2019 Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Best Villain Award, Foreign Language Category.”

“That’s literally what’s going through your head when you’re shouting that if I can’t make some sick motorcycle jump, you’ll turn all my friends into stuffed animal versions of themselves?”

“No, of course not! At those times I’m thinking about how much I love my job. OH! and what is that I see!” Renji struck an extremely Zabimaru pose. “A MISTER DONUT!”

“My hero!” Rukia exclaimed, unable to resist an opportunity to shout dramatically. “I’m sorry I doubted you!”

“I think we should get some donuts, too. Orihime loves donuts,” Renji declared.

“Oh, for sure,” Rukia agreed. She was thoughtful for a moment. It would be easy to move on to a different subject, the subject being donuts, but she wasn’t happy with leaving the last conversation hanging. “Look, Renji, just because I don’t like the dumb ship, you know that’s not a reflection on you, right?”

“Huh?” Renji replied. “You mean you don’t mind if I like it?”

“Well… I mean, I don’t, I guess, but what I really meant was, er… we joke a lot, but Tomoe and Zabimaru are just parts, y’know? Just because I don’t think Zabimaru isn’t good boyfriend material doesn’t mean I…” Rukia trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was saying. “Um. What I mean is. You’re very nice and probably one of my favorite people I’ve ever worked with and if someone I knew wanted to ask you out, I would definitely encourage them to, A+ guy, I’d say, probably would make a great boyfriend.”

Renji pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead and regarded her for a long moment. “For the record, Kuchiki, I think that both you and Tomoe would make excellent girlfriend material.” While Rukia stood there and gaped like a fish, he turned and pushed open the door to the coffee shop. “Ichigo likes crullers and Orihime always wants the most colorful thing they’ve got. Do you know what you want?”

“I need to think about it,” Rukia squeaked. She wasn’t talking about donuts.

🏍    ⚡   🎬 

Bonus: Here are my notes from when I was making up the show. I hope this wasn’t too confusing!

High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe!

based on a manga by reclusive mangaka Kuna Mashiro

Head Screenwriter: Kurosaki Ichigo

🌟 Starring: 🌟

Kuchiki Rukia as Yukimura Tomoe, a spunky college student who can see ghosts and fights demons from Hell! She rides a motorcycle!

Inoue Orihime as Queen Bloodbuzz, a Lady of Hell, who seeks to gather energy from the Living Realm so that she can become the Supreme Ruler of Hell. Very aesthetic. Much bees.

Abarai Renji as Zabimaru, Queen Bloodbuzz’s ruthless henchman. He leads a double life as fierce-looking, but gentle-hearted college student Satonaka Takeru! What is his long game??

[obsessionsposts]

Deleterious Compulsion (1)

Tw: Blackmailing/Sexism/ Possible historical inaccuracies/ implied homophobia/ unhealthy relationship/ OOC/ grammatical errors.

Sharp honeyed eyes settled on the target, pouncing on the templar Altaïr slitted his throat and rivulets of blood began to pour. Thus, he took a feather and drenched it with the templar's blood. Afterwards, he began to head back to Masyaf castle to report his success to the Mualim.

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩��๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Meanwhile in Masyaf...

"Ah, I see that you've completed your mission fairly well. But, that is very expected from an exemplary assassin such as you!", Al-Mualim commended.

Altaïr stared at the Al-Mualim with a stoic visage. Respectfully, he expressed his gratitude. Before he left, Altaïr asked about his next mission.

" Master, what of my next mission?", inquired he in a montone voice.

" Don't be hasteful, for the next objective is of such importance that you,Malik, and Kadar will be entrusted with. And, there will be no room for failure.", Al-Mualim voice boomed in his ears.

" I understand,Master.But, why should I do it with them? When I am capable to do it on my own.", Altaïr voiced his thoughts in bumptious manner.

"Now,now. Altaïr. Don't be so concited with your abilities, for one day it will be your downfall. Moreover, how the mission goes is not up to debate. You're dismissed!", his master dismissed him with a disappointment lacing his words.

Grumbling and murmuring, Altaïr left to train some of his brothers.

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Junaid was your mask that have gotten you into the Brotherhood. Without it, you'd been rejected,thrown, or worse left to starve like those women whom are living under the tyranny of the Templars in Masyaf.

Since then, you've been careful not to reveal your identity around anyone especially Altaïr. Who is oddly seemed suspicious of you for what ever reason his mind conjured up.

" Hey, Junaid. Brother Altaïr is back from his mission. Which means more training with him! Aren't you thrilled to be taught the tenants of the assassins by the hands of a prodigy", Sayed voice startled you from your train of thought and made you jump slightly.

" A-ah, yes. Very exhilarated to be at the presence of an assassin model", you spoke sarcasm coating your words.

God! you loathed that arrogant prick. He thinks he is beyond everyone, because of his innate talents and precise instinct.

" Aren't you cranky today, brother! Plus, you seemed jumpy and most of all you....don't appreciate Altaïr?" , questioned playfully Sayed.

" Don't get me wrong, I appreciate him. However, his personality is as bland as a wooden table. As well as, he is suspicious and harsh with me when I train with him.Otherwise, I appreciate his training", you sighed and started to head toward the designated practice area.

Once you reached the area, you spotted a certain man cladded in white with the hood up. Ah....Altaïr, what a pleasure you truly are!

Suddenly,you were handled by the said man and were pinned to the brick wall behind you.

Golden orbs dissecting your (e/c) ones, along with your body language for any sketchy behavior.

" I know, you're up to something ,Junaid. Spit it out now. I have seen you on multiple occasions turning around", bringing his tanned face near yours to the point that your noses were touching.

" I'd say peace and safety to you, but you don't deserve either of them. Anyway, I have nothing to say or hide from the Brotherhood that have risen me", you sassed back and clutched his hand then flipped him on his back.

" On the other hand, Altaïr I am not someone to be meddled with", pressing your hidden knife against his jugular. After that, you stood up and decided to go to Al-Mualim to receive your mission.

Leaving a fuming eagle behind, yet he appeared to get more engrossed about his 'pupil' that took him by surprise. A ghost of a smile decorated his physiognomy for a moment , then it vanished when he remembered his co-mission.

If he had a choice, at least he would bring Junaid with him for he is as capable as him. Alas, Altaïr went to Yaser's bureau to discuss the upcoming objective.

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Meanwhile in Damascus...

Howard Wickhame*...

A templar preoccupied on satiating his hedonistic wants at the expense of the people. He has a human trafficking network that expands from Damascus to Jersuleum. Most of the humans are females ranged from : 13 to 21 in age.

Most are either used as sex slaves or sold to be one. He is found commonly in Jerusalem, at the market. How abhorrent! Soon enough, he will answer to my blade.

While you began to make preparation toward Jerseluam, a knock alarmed you of the forthcoming of an assassin.

In which, you hastily covered your torso with bandage and put on your assassin uniform.

You went to get the door, only to be surprised by the familiar tanned face of Altaïr. Flabbergasted, you ushered him to lay on the soft purple cushion.

" What a pleasant surprise! What made you come all the way to Damascus? Or, are you here to ridicule my skills again?" , you uttered vexed at his presence.

" I came here...not to ridicule you, but to escort on your mission", responded Altaïr gruffly.

" WHAT!!! No, you wont!!! I'll be do-", as you were delivering your words incredulously, you were cut off by Altaïr.

" You have no matter in this as I am your superior as well as the Mualim issued the order", Altaïr lied pathologically with a condesending smirk.

" Urgh, fine. Let's get it over, then I will never have to see your face again", you replied again stabbing his muscular chest with your digits.

How naïve? Not to check the validity of my words. But, that will make my work easier. I want to know the real you not the illusion that you fool everyone with. I know you're hiding something and I will figure it out. Plus, you're quite astute and vigorous for someone who have a petite structure.

" Is that how you speak to your superior? In addition, you won't get rid of me that easily considering I am your teacher. Either way, tell me about our target", Altaïr commented with teasing tone and a minuscule smile appeared. When, he saw you scratching your temple in frustration.

He wondered why you don't like him like the rest of the creed. And, why are you keen on working on your own? There is something, that he knew.

That is his main reason of the trip, to discover your true identity. Maybe, you'll slip throughout the mission and he takes advantage of that. The idea fledged a smile on his handsome almond face that made you double check if you're either dreaming or blind.

" Here I thought you could not smile and be an asshole, but I am wrong at the former and the latter still stands.", you remarked wondrous at the phenomena that happens infront of your eyes.

Gazing at you with his honey orbs and a genuine smile grazing his sculpted brown face.

" What? You can take me by surprise, but I can't. I'm more than you think, keep that in mind." Responded the veteran assassin with a hum.

" May I inquire a question,Master?", you smiled as you watched his expression changed from confident to a pure shock. Quite amusing!

" To call me master and ask me a question, now that what I sought from you brother. And, yes you can.", Altaïr answered with subtle tint of joviality.

"From what I've heard there is a co-mission, where you and two other assassins are involved. Why waste your time here, when you can focus on that?", you questioned him skeptic on his intention.

Frowning bitterly, as he remembered what Al-Mualim spoke of.

" The mission isn't any time soon, so Al-Mualim sent me here.", replied Altaïr with a low grumble.

Shrugging his expression, you began to retell him what you know of Howard Wickhame. As you retell the info, you can't help but feel the intense gaze of Altaïrs was watching every move you make.

No matter, it's probably his usual way to make sure that you relayed the info truthfully!

Eventually, both of you are on your horses to Jerusalem to eliminate that bastard,Howard.

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Jerusalem, at the market.....

" Gentlemen, I welcome you to my market where all your sexual needs are met. With a certain price, of course.", Howard ushered his large rough hands towards the aristocratic men of Jerusalem to capture their attention on his products.

Wailing and crying of women and children were heard alike, from the shallow cages that they were inserted in.

" As demonstrated here, I present you with the finest products from as young as 13 years to a full matured lady. They can serve well, I guarantee you much of that", He spoke expression developing into utter pride, as he saw the leacherous faces of his guests.

Business is hitting a jackpot that's for sure. Not to mention, he needs to report to Robért de sable as soon as he can.

Oblivious to their presence, two assassins were hidden behind a mosque. Listening to every word that dripped from his filthy maw.

" Okay, now. You take the guards down and I'll deal with Howard on my own. Then we can liberate all of the captives. Okay?" , you muttered to the brunette beside you.

Altaïr hummed and nodded.

He didn't knew whether to look forward to seeing the templar seeping out the crimson liquid, or for your slip up that he will happen.

He didn't know the reason, why he is fixated with you to such degree? In the end, you are a student of his. He shouldn't have these thought about his student. It is alike a compulsion that drives him to irrationality and madness.

Soon after, the duo started to execute their short-term strategy.

Stealithy, Altaïr began to take out the guards one by one. On the other hand, you camouflaged yourself with the people around you as not to alert the templars about your whereabouts; thus failing the mission.

'One more step, and that templar is no more.'

Getting your trusty hidden blade ready, you approached your designated prey with a steady pose. Quiet, hidden, and unnoticed by the populas.

Closing in, you lunged at Howard taking him by surprise. However, as soon as you lunged at him an arrow was lodged into your ribs.

' اللعنة!*، I have to do it hastily '

Then, you slashed his throat and the cement floor was decorated crimson.

Screams were heard from the guests, notifying the enemy of your location.

As soon as his body hit the floor, the Templars were tailing you.

Beside that, the injuries is getting worse and worse to the point you began to haze out and gradually fall down.

' Well, I guess this is my time. At least, I served the Brotherhood with honour and dignity'

The last thing your eyes layed upon was a flash of white mixed with brown and red.

When Altaïr saw your body, he panicked and ran impulsively to pick your wounded body. He won't let you die, especially at the hands of those fucking templars!

The bright side is that you made an error that will confiscate your mask away. So now, he can finally relish on your true self.

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

At the bureau...

"Oh, Altaïr...What have you brought this time?", Malik sighed until he layed his brown eyes on your unconscious body, then worry began to seep into his mind.

" Move aside, I require your room so I could heal Junaid.", Altaïr responded tersely.

" If it wasn't for the sake of Junaid, I'd not give an acre of this to you. Now, go tend to Junaid before he dies of your own incompetence", Malik grumbled and motioned his almond hands to the chocolate door. In which, plants designs and Arabic calligraphy were carved upon its surface.

Soon after, Altair kicked the door only to be introduced by a lofty and plushy room with a soft harbor grey bed on the center of the room.

Instantaneously, Altaïr setted your sparked out frame down on the bed and began to remove your uniform one by one,until he reached your bloody chest that is covered by bandages that were soaked by your blood.

Until, suddenly his hands were engulfed by yours in a vice-like grip.

" What in the name of god, do you think you're doing?", you hissed painfully.

(E/C) eyes dead set on his pulchritudinous honey eyes that you wished to swim into it. If, those eyes didn't belong to your haughty and secluded mentor.

" Simply, I was tending to you. Considering, you're currently on the verge of bleeding to death.", He responded with concern interweaved in his words.

And, for the first time Altaïr took off his hood off. To reveal, short brown locks and and a well-sculpted golden face that the angels might cry from envy. But, what enraptured you the most is the look of vulnerability that carved his face.

Then, he sat beside you.

" Since when, did you care about my wellbeing? When all this time you're trying to fault me for something that I didn't commit", you spit at him bitterly. Confusion,anger, and hurt were pointed at him as if they were spears ready to inflict harm upon him in your time of agony.

Funnily enough, you didn't acknowledge which is worse the jabbing pain of the arrow that is still lodged in your ribs or the emotional and the paranoia that altaïr instilled on you. The fear of being found out for who you truly are, along with the fear of losing the only family that cares for you and vice versa.

" No, I never hated you. On the other hand, It is the polar of it. I care for you more than a mentor should for his pupils. So, let me reconcile with you by helping you recover.", He confessed tenderness dripping off his scarred lips. At, this point his repressed emotions were getting off hand and he fucked it up more by revealing his thoughts to his most cherished mentee.

' اللعنة علي*، Malik was right. I am a fool '

Astonished, you didn't know whether you should speak or not. To your dismay, your eyes started to water and a waterfall ensued.

" P-please, Altaïr. I beg of you to let me take care of myself a-and then we can speak of it", your voice has begin to crack and revert to its feminine tone.

Startled by the tone, Altaïr begin to check the source of the voice. Only, to find it resonated from you. Maybe, you are a feminine boy, not what he is currently thinks of. No women were allowed throughout the brotherhood*.

All those 15 years has gone to waste. Thanks to a confession of a man,quite pathetic isn't it? How, fate amuses itself by your despair and agony!

If only, you had had not been forsaken by your family then this predicament would not happen.

" I'm truly sorry, Junaid. But, it is my duty to tend for my brethren. Plus, you're not in suitable condition to do it. You will only hurt yourself. So, lay down and let me remove these flithy bandages", Altaïr then began to remove the bandages , against your cries not to, only to be astounded by the sight of breasts. His golden pupils dilated in response to the utter shock.

Ah, shit. So, you were a woman masquerading as man all along.

So that's why there is something off about you. Not to mention, the paranoia and tendencies to working alone.

It clicks now.

" Tell me, What is your full true name?", Altaïr interrogated you coldly that you begun to shiver now that the truth has arisen.

" My true name is ( Y/n) and I am an orphan. All of my family are dead, not a single relative remains alive. Now, that I've told you. I beg you that you don't reveal my identity to anyone, because the brotherhood is all I've left", you replied desperation ran along your voice.

" You must understand my circumstances, the reason I joined the creed is to prevent people like me to live under the clutches of megalomaniacs such as templars", you added hoping that satiated La'ahads interrogation.

" That depends, tell me more about yourself whilst I tend to you", He responded husky voiced as he began to remove the arrow slowly. In which, you reacted in hissing and groaning of pain.

Despite all this fiasco, the nature of his feelings haven't changed not a one bit. If anything, it skyrocketed. Plus, now he doesn't need to worry about being gay. Also, he can use your identity as bargaining chip to ensure you will be his and no else.

'Perfect' , he mused as he internally grinned to himself at the thought of you becoming his for eternity. Soon enough, a ring will bond you together.

At, first it was your astute and skills that enraptured him akin to a fly stuck in a spider's web. Now, it is the truth that captured him and how similar of an upbringing you both share. Many more to be followed he liked including: your thirst for knowledge and truth.

" Lastly, I only ask of you this", Altaïr's strong muscular body encircled your petite one's in his grasp. Then, he used his index to turn your face towards his.

" What do you ask? you've already ruined what I've built", you expressed grimly trying to escape the grasp your in. However, it was futile and the grip tightened more.

" If, you don't want me to abolish it. Then, abide me, become mine, and above all love me like I love you", he said in mellisonant tone to lure you more in his grasp.

Not, that will matter. At this point you have no choice, but to abide. Or, risk the revelance of your identity and your forced resignation from the creed.

Plus, it is his word against yours. And, you knew that you have no chance against him.

" Go, ahead. You took everything from me. Now, the only thing that I have is you", the eagle has cornered its sly prey into a corner and devoured it until a husk was left behind.

" That's excellent, your focus should be always on me. If only, you've had focused on me earlier; you'd not be in this predicament. But, then again my compulsion would make me take you either ways.", Altaïr responded as he began to pepper your jugular in kisses and bites. Soon enough, your neck was purple from him marking it with his bites.

" No matter, you'll be mine as I am yours for as long as life goes. (Y/n)ِأنا أحبك ", Altaïr confessed as he trapped you in the bed with his golden strudy frame that was so fit that it was built by god himself.

Shortly, Altaïr connected his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

" Now sleep, my love. For, tomorrow you will report to Al-Mualim as long as I am there.", Altaïr took both yours and his uniform off. Then, engulfed your form toward his. So, now your back is toward him.

Next, he layed a gentle kiss on your head then he drifted to slumber.

Soon, you followed suit but with regrets riddling your despaired mind.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

A/n: That's the longest One shot,so far. However, I might make a part 2 if you want. Also, if you want a continuation do you want it a lemon?

[lunarlooroo]

I loved all of your 🔥🔥🔥prompts where Heather and Severus where going at each other heh. I have a traditional crack!fic request: the ministry mandates that sex ed be taught at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, this year Snape and his assistant are in charge of addressing the whole student body en masse. It ends up being an uncomfortable experience for most, a hilarious one for some, but also an interesting one for Heather ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

DAY TWO OF TWELVE DAYS OF FICMAS!

Probably not as raunchy as what you had in mind. Also, I did the bare minimum amount of research into this topic, so don’t hold it against me if there are any glaring inaccuracies.

“Come, Heather. We are due to give the lecture on sexuality education this year.” Severus walked past her, scowling up a storm.

Blinking, she hastened her footsteps to catch up with him. “Wait, what? What do you mean?”

“Are you not aware of the most recent demand from the Ministry?”

She frowned. “I think I heard something about it, but I thought Poppy would be in charge or something!”

“Well, last week the Sorting Hat decreed that the responsibility would be foisted onto me. Otherwise, I would never be involved in such a troublesome matter,” he said in distaste.

Well, that really put a new perspective on ‘picking a name from a hat’.

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” She raised an eyebrow. “The hat didn’t call my name, now did it?”

Severus stopped and turned to face her with a smug expression. “Indeed. However, as my apprentice, you are obliged to carry out tasks that I set aside for you. Trying to impart such delicate information to immature cretins is something I refuse to do alone.”

Sighing, she nodded in resignation. “Okay, but why am I only hearing about this now? Wouldn’t it have been better if we’d done some sort of preparation?”

“What is there to prepare?” he asked dryly, “Ah, good they are here.”

Heather walked through the door after him and almost froze in shock. What seemed like the entire population of students, from the first to seventh years, were seated in the room, which had probably been expanded for this very purpose.

She caught Severus’ arm and pulled him closer. “The lecture isn’t for all the students, is it?” she hissed, “That’s just preposterous! What we’d need to teach 11-year-olds and 17-year-olds are totally different!

Severus sneered, crossing his arms. “Blame the sodding Ministry. This was not my idea at all. Fortunately, in future years we will only need to give the talk to the first years.”

Heather didn’t know how they were going to pull this off, let alone next year’s.

“Attention!” Severus said, not even bothering with a Sonorus. The whole room quietened, knowing better than to cross their Potions Master. “As you are no doubt aware, this lecture is focussed on sexuality education.” A few snickers sounded. Severus glared around, cowing everyone into silence.

“Make no mistake. This is not sexeducation orsexualeducation. Surely even you lot can fumble through that yourselves without me to hold your hand through it.”

Heather had to stifle a laugh at the innuendo, knowing Severus must have said it on purpose, despite his straight face. She could see a few students half-disturbed and half-amused by their strictest Professor saying anything even remotelysuggestive.

“We will begin with basic anatomy.” Severus produced a large scientific diagram with both the male and female human body, parts annotated clearly. He ignored the sudden chatter for about a minute, before shushing them all.

“We will begin with the male body. Pre-puberty, the testicles are less than 4 millilitres in volume.” The image of the testicles on the diagram lit up. “Puberty is the period in an adolescent’s life when they undergo changes to their body for sexual maturation. Theoretically, after puberty the person is a fully mature adult. Of course, I know this is rarely the case.” He stared pointedly at the seventh and sixth years, who fidgeted in their seats.

“In males, puberty begins with the enlargement of the testicles, typically beyond 4 millilitres. They experience an increase in height and muscle mass. Some pubic hair will grow around the groin. Thereafter, their penises grow in length and their voice breaks and begins to deepen. They begin to grow facial and axillary hair.”

As Severus described the changes that occur through puberty, the diagram changed as well. Up until the picture of the boy became a man.

He then went on to describe the development of females in a similar manner. Though Heather noticed the girls looked a tad discomfited at having a male teacher teach them this.

She was rather impressed that Severus knew that much about this subject, though. She probably wouldn’t have been able to give this much detail, and so clinically, too.

“If you have any questions thus far, you may direct them to Miss Potter.”

Surprised at being called, she straightened to attention. She placed an encouraging smile on her face, stepping forward to receive questions.

A few hands were raised, mostly from boys. There were a few girls that she saw seemed to want to ask something, but were too shy to.

“What does axillary mean?” a third year Gryffindor asked.

Heather gave Severus a look, wordlessly suggesting that he stay away from scientific jargon for the remainder of his lecture. “It is the scientific name for the armpit region. Next?”

Most of the questions were simple and easy to explain. Eventually, she managed to get the shyer kids to speak up as well. The older students, on the other hand, were beginning to fall asleep.

Severus then moved on to explain the mechanics of intercourse and reproduction, speaking so dryly that not even the most rambunctious of students were able to make any dirty jokes.

In fact, some of them were looking rather disturbed by how boring Severus was able to make sex sound.

“Poor Miss Potter. The bat can’t be very satisfying in bed if this is how he’s like. I bet his idea of foreplay is reading a Potions journal.”

Because she was closer to students, she was able to hear the snide whisper from one of the sixth years. Though she didn’t put it past Severus go have heard it anyway. He had ears as sharp as, well, a bat.

Far from being offended, Heather was beyond amused. She certainly had no complaints about her lover’s prowess in bed, not that it was any business of her students’.

She didn’t if know what people said about men with big noses was correct, since a single anecdotal case wasn’t exactly robust evidence, but suffice to say these boys were reallyoff the mark.

Shaking her head, she banished the train of thought from her mind. A classroom was hardly an appropriate place to be thinking of such things.

“We will now be covering our last main topic. Menstruation. Sometimes referred to as monthly bleeding or periods. You will find, of course, that not every person’s menstrual cycle is the common 28 days. Each person’s body varies, so naturally no two cycles are exactly the same.”

A group of boys began making a ruckus. One foolhardy one amongst them stood up with a defiant tilt to his chin. “Why do we have to sit here and listen to this? It’s gross, girly stuff! Sir.”

The female yearmates sitting around the group all pinned their collective ire on them. Heather foresaw that these idiots wouldn’t be enjoying the next few months. It was when she saw some younger girls hunch in on themselves, ashamed, that she wanted to throttle the boys herself though. Puberty was difficult enough without ignorant people making them feel embarrassed about their own bodies.

Severus got to them before she could.

“Farley,” Severus intoned lowly. The single word was enough to make the boy pale and look regretful of his decision to speak. “Tell me, do you have a mother, sisters, aunts, any females close to you?”

The boy, Dorian Farley, looked back to his friends for help, but none of them dared to meet his eyes. Heather resisted the urge to scoff. Typical.

“Answer the question!”

Farley jumped, visibly gulping. “Y-yes, sir.”

She nodded to herself. The boy was a middle child, with two sisters. One of whom had been in the same year as Rian and the other, a third year sitting right in this very room.

“Tell me then, why you would disparage a natural process that occurs in most women, a process, I might add, that was crucial to your very existence? Any reason other than pure ignorance and selfishness, of course.”

His younger sister, Bella Farley, was glaring daggers across the room at him, eyes promising some sort of retribution. The girl was a spitfire, Heather knew.

“Well, don’t keep us all waiting, Farley. Surely you have a good reason to dismiss this heavy burden placed on women everywhere by nature. Perhaps you do not deem it necessary to learn more because you do not respect the hardship they have to face on a regular basis and you have no intention of doing what you can to ease the struggle?”

A few moments passed before Farley realized that Severus really wouldwait for his answer before continuing. The combined stares of everyone in the room might have done the trick as well.

“N-nothing, Professor. I don’t have a good reason. Sorry.” His words all but slurred together as he forced them out, face burning red. He sat down hard enough that a ‘thump’ echoed through the room.

Severus continued to Lookat Farley for a moment more, before stating, “Now, as I was saying…”

No one made a peep during the rest of the lecture, especially not the boys.

By the end of it all, Severus was on the receiving end of multiple starry-eyed gazes, not the least of which was her own. He had made himself something of a hero, with his passionate speech. On the menstrual cycle, of all things.

He had always been considerate of her during her periods – understanding when she felt a little moodier and not holding it against her, casually handing her a hot bottle charmed to remain at a perfect temperature, even handfeeding her chocolate, on some memorable occasions.

“If any of you have any personal questions that you don’t feel comfortable asking now, please feel free to arrange a meeting with either of us, or submitting a note if that is easier for you.” Heather said, as Severus wrapped up the lesson.

Heather beamed up at Severus as the last student filed out. “You did a wonderful job! I barely even needed to do anything! I don’t know why you insisted I be here.”

Her lover turned his back to her to pack up his diagrams and models, not saying a word.

Pursing her lips, she pondered over his behaviour. A delighted smile took over her face. “You were nervous!”

“Of course not!” he rebutted, too quickly. He faced her with an indignant frown. “I was- concerned, that I would not be able to instruct them properly. I’m not the first person anyonewould go to for matters of such a delicate nature.” He ended his sentence with a deprecating twist to his lips.

She shook her head fondly, going up to wrap her arms around him. “Severus, believe me when I say that you handled that excellently. The only thing I would find fault with is your use of too-complicated language. If you had perhaps dumbed down your words a little, then it would have been perfect.”

“It went better than I expected, I admit.”

“Oh come on, that’s an understatement if I ever heard one. You’ve amassed quite a following amongst the female student,” she said teasingly, “And who could blame them? You were quite thorough in your advocation for menstrual cycle awareness. My gentleman.”

Pink dusted over Severus’ cheeks. “Nonsense.”

Giggling, Heather leaned up to peck his lips. “I’m not joking. And I really am impressed with your lecture. You really got them to take the topic seriously. There were hardly any dirty jokes at all! Well, aside from your own, of course.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Well, at any rate I’m glad that’s over.”

“Mmh. I’d say you deserve some reprieve after all that. Why don’t we head back to our quarters and just relax.” She lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “Don’t worry, I can do all the work.”

His hands clenched in her robes. “That, Heather, is a fine suggestion indeed.”

[melanchellen]

On aliens

"We're tiny! Don't you see it? We're tiny!" she yelled at him, her voice dripping a panic so urgent and overwhelming, not even his warm embrace could calm.

"We were born here, on a day and age we never chose, by people we have not the luxury to pick, under circumstances we will never be able to control. And that's how we leave as well. An unknown how and when await us at the end of our existence. And then, we become just numbers and statistics, on catalogues no one really reads. Or we remain as faded inaccuracies​ in the memories of the people that overlive us. That's if we're lucky. If we were able to find people that actually cared enough. All of our existence is a sequence of events so unimportant, so dull, so insignificant...

How are you not afraid? How are all of those facts not overwhelming and scary to you? Every day that passes by, we walk towards our inevitable disappearance, which will also soon mean nothing. We're such a waste of power. And even so, not a really significant one, that could possibly disturb the balance of the endless universe. Everything will soon continue to exist, totally indifferent to our musings."

Tears filled her eyes as soon as she stopped talking. They were both laying still, fingers interlaced, gazing at the endless night sky expanding above them. To say this wasn't what he had in mind when he asked her to go stargazing with him, would be an understatement. He was prepared for a romantic night on his rooftop, filled with laughter and love and hours of talking about future plans or sweet nothings. Now that he came to think about it, he should have at least expect things to not go according to plan. This was a running theme on his life, at least ever since he met her. She has always been full of surprises. But watching her now, at a state of pure existential panic was a whole new level of unpredictable. He tried his best to comfort her.

"Hey! Everything is fine. I'm here for you. Please, stop crying..."

He softly enveloped her in his arms, and she showed no resistance. She didn't stop crying either. He was caressing her upper arms and she was wetting his shirt. Nothing seemed to be able to drag her out of this loophole she was caught in. It was for the best to just let her be for a while, to let everything out. The spiral of thoughts was far too complicated to navigate while shaking and sobbing. He could only tighten his embrace and place a few chaste kisses on her forehead. She needed some time, he'd be there for her as soon as she was ready.

Waiting for her to calm down, he started replaying at his head everything she had say. Her arguments were valid and her questions, however urgent, were, admittedly, unanswerable. Preparing what to say back wasn't a search of answers, it was more like forming a counterpoint based on the same cold facts. Time was passing by unnoticed, and at some point she started calming down a bit. As she finally stopped crying, he broke the embrace hesitantly and searched for her eyes.

Her face was red and her eyes swollen. He wiped away her tears and smiled gently at her. Maybe now it was time to break the silence. He cleaned his throat, took a deep breath and started.

"First of all, my question was whether you believe in aliens or not." she smiled a bit at that, which gave him the courage he needed to continue.

"Secondly, I'd like to add that you look lovely even when you cry. Also I'm a bit underwhelmed, I've seen you cry more than that over the death of a fictional character, you could have done better."

That earned him an eye roll and a bat on the forearm, but it was worth it, for that glimpse of a smile on her face.

"Ok. To the main point now. I wish I had the answers to all of your whys and hows. I wish I could persuade you there is reason, or there is a higher purpose that's tying us all together. That, however, would be foolish, and also a lie, as I don't believe in those things either."

A sigh escaped her lips, and he reached down to hold her hand.

"Yes. Our whole life isn't but a series of events, most of which we're unable to control. Yes, the very ends and beginnings of our time in this tiny planet are still inexplicable, and yes, the difference we can make is rarely enough to change anything. I agree with you. There's almost no way to maintain your sanity once you've realized how small you are compared to the cosmos. It's scary to view yourself in proportion to the unknown and unexplored."

"Then how?" she interrupted him "How and why are you not afraid by these things?" Her wondering eyes were piercing his, as she demanded an answer.

"I admit that I'm scared too. It really upsets me once I really think about it. Having thought about it, I ended up on the conclusion that it's wiser to think about the atoms, rather than the black holes."

At this point she was totally confused, and so he proceeded to explaining.

"You see, there'll never be anything I can do to change the passage of time and its consequences. And I've came to accept that. Much like a black hole, time has a power of its own that we don't fully understand or are able to control or defeat. This moment though, here, with you, or everything else that I choose to do, on that list of insignificant human musings, it's more similar to an atom. I can study it better, understand it better, I have power on it. I have the power to control the colours and the sentiments on the pictures filled under my name, on your memories."

She was listening cautiously, as he further explained his theory on how we need to focus on the things we can affect rather than those we have no power upon. Her panic was subsiding and she began to understand. A sly smile was fighting on her lips.

"Thank you for this. For putting up with my existential fear and my overreaction. It means so much to me, having you hold me while I cry." she said, squeezing his hand.

Her eyes were now lovingly grazing his face, the distance between them becoming less by the minute. They shared a slow, tender kiss.

"Well..." he was the one to break the silence as soon as their lips parted "I was planning on telling you this tonight anyway... And although I should admit I came up with a different scenario in my head, the sentiment still stands."

"I guess never sticking to the original plan is what you get for having me around" she humored, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'll gladly take it" he admitted and they shared a smile.

"I love you." he added, his voice somehow steady even with his heart pounding on his chest. "I love you and I'm thankful that we get to star in each other's memories. I couldn't have wished for a better version of you, even if I wrote your character myself." He finished off his sentences exhaling, as if there wasn't enough air in his lungs. Her response came in the form of a kiss, this time though it felt different. It was deeper and more passionate and they both got lost in it, completely melding together.

When they separated to catch their breath he searched for her eyes once more.

"So?" he asked, face begging for an answer. It was more that he wanted to hear her saying it than not actually knowing the answer, but he was scared still

"Yes. Yes, I do believe in aliens." she answered, her eyes mischievous while trying to maintain her composure.

"You're impossible." he all but yelled at her, rolling his eyes pointedly, crossing his arms and facing away. She fell on a fit of laughter, but hugged him still.

"I love you too. So so much." she whispered on his ear.

The stars had now disappeared, and the sky was getting lighter and lighter. They lied there, entangled, their eyes fixed on each other, not really noticing as the sun was rising. They were just two people, madly in love, on a random rooftop in a random town, realising how lucky they were to hold nothing but each other's mortal bodies on their hands.