service in silence

BNHA: Riddles in the Heart, 1/3

Pairing: Tododeku

Summary:  The law is clear: whoever correctly answers three riddles will marry the prince, while all who fail are to be executed. The people live in fear as more challengers try and fail, and the throne grows bloodier with every passing year. But a young prince, nameless and in exile from his home, believes there may be more to this brutal challenge than meets the eye. 

Of course, there’s only one way to find out: ring the gong, and take the trial.

(Royalty/Fantasy AU)


Act I: The Challenge

The sun was low in the sky, and the streets on the outskirts of the city were quiet. The people who lived here were those that kept their heads down, minded their own business, and did their best not to draw attention to themselves.

This mattered little to the young man racing through the streets, feet aching as they pounded the stones. His breath was short but he was not yet winded, the pressure in his lungs not quite a burning.

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, and slowed his pace when he saw that his pursuers were beginning to lag behind. Losing them now was no good—if they gave up, they might go back to hunting the others.

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A/N: I was having some Feelings

Two decades and several lightyears away, a boy, hardly old enough to be called a man, is about to watch his father bleed out to the tune of security alarms. On Mars, in Town Hall, in the mayor’s office, Juno Steel’s stares at Ramses O’Flaherty with a gun in his hand and the slowly-consuming ache of guilt finally settling into his chest.

“It’s over, Ramses,” he grinds out. “You’re done.” And despite this, despite knowing that if push comes to shove only one of them has to walk out of this room alive, O’Flaherty still has a smile plastered on his face like a campaign poster on a wall.

Juno flexes his hand on the trigger, raises a blaster to take aim at his employer. It makes Juno sick to think about how easy it was to buy his services, his silence, his loyalty- so he doesn’t think of it for now. He thinks about the laser he doesn’t want to put in Ramses’ skull, but that he’ll put it there if he has to.

“Are you going to shoot me, Juno?” He says it like a joke, or like he’s asking a child who had been colouring on the walls. Juno doesn’t reply; he takes aim. “No, you’re not going to.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

“You put on a good show, but I think you know better.”

A man tells a boy that his whole life is a lie.

Ramses O’Flaherty flattens Juno with just a few words. “You wouldn’t shoot at family, Juno. You don’t have that much of your mother in you.”

After the shot goes so wide that Juno almost has to check if he lost another eye, the room is dead silent. There’s a scorch mark in the wall several feet to the right of Ramses’ smiling face. Juno’s blaster rattles in his hand.

Ramses cocks his head to the side. The taunt in his eyes is suddenly familiar in a hundred intimate memories of Ben, of a man Juno can’t quite remember no matter how hard he reaches. “Or maybe I was wrong.” The mayor straightens up, fixes his coat. “Maybe you’re more like her than I thought. You ‘ought to be careful when you come in to work on Monday, Juno. There may be some dangerous cases on your work load. See you then.”

He pats Juno’s shoulder like the past ten minutes hadn’t happened on his way out of the office.

Two decades and several lightyears away, a boy walks into a room with his family and walks out with nothing.

On Mars, in Town Hall, in the mayor’s office, Juno Steel walks into a room with a vendetta. He doesn’t walk out for a long time, not until his mind stops reeling so hard that he can’t remember how to move his legs. When he does, it’s with a horror settled deep inside him and a childhood ripped firmly into the present.

it’s incredibly frustrating that so many people who want to talk about the failings of neoliberal economics (who are, of course, just by coincidence, usually white men) will also neglect to adequately factor white supremacy and cisheteropatriarchy into their analysis of our flawed hegemonic social system.

so like, can we maybe do something vaguely nuanced where we acknowledge that sanders is saying some of the right things when it comes to the problems with late stage capitalism and the inherent immorality of corporate imperialism, while also recognizing the ways in which he’s failing to say a lot of what needs to be said with respect to racial and gender justice? like, can we recognize that his lip service (if not outright silence) re: the latter is a ultimately a conscious decision to not give voice to certain hard truths because they aren’t the hard truths his mostly white, mostly male followers want to hear?

cuz if that part of the critique is missing, then what we’re really talking about is advocating for a Gentler, More Compassionate White Supremacist Cisheteropatriarchy™. and idk maybe it’s just me, but i’m not about to put it on the line for that.

Dawn Rising [10/?]

19 Days AU Historical Fanfiction

Synopsis: A poisoning; a death; a thief. A prince struggling to be a prince. A guard trying to stop one from getting killed. And everyone else on the sidelines. It is hard to navigate the court of an empire when no one is guaranteed to survive.

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 | Read on AO3

Guan Shan remembered the coldness of it, and the hardness of the ground. He remembered the smell of it, like rot creeping in at the edges, dampness clinging to stone, and knew that it wasn’t there so much as he imagined it to be. It was easier to despise something when there was nothing to like.

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frosttheelemental  asked:

The sound of the rushing water in Waterfall was accompanied by tender music produced by the ice elemental's key strokes among the piano. The mourning service standing in silence as the glowing mushrooms and ceiling seemed to turn off and on to match the rhyme of the music. Despite not having officially introduced himself to the young lady, a deep sorrow plagued his chest as he lost yet another friend. The most he could do however to repay his debt to Rony...would be continue playing his song...

My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.


When you lost someone you could of been friends with. How much does that hurt?

Lost In Translation - (Chapter 4) Sehun Scenario

La douleur exquise (French)
The excruciating pain that comes from wanting someone you can’t have.

The walk home from school was a long and arduous one. Thick black clouds enveloped the sky and the sun cowered behind them, diminishing daylight quickly. A cold wind blew, and it made the trees rustle like living things. It whirled around you with such velocity, threatening to expose your thighs to the world as you struggled to hold your skirt down. Then the rain came.
First it started off as a gentle shower but within minutes you were running to take cover under the nearest shop’s canopy. Your knees shook and with chattering teeth you silently cursed yourself for missing the bus home. As you were about to take refuge inside the shop, a car horn sounded catching your attention.
Well isn’t this just fucking brilliant.
From within the sleek black car sat a smirking Sehun. He leaned over and you watched as the window rolled down creating a clearer image of him.
“I didn’t know you’d taken to selling your body on the streets.” He said, that smirk never leaving his face. Your mouth fell open as anger began to rise within you. Ignoring your reaction Sehun flung open the passenger door.
“Get in.”
You raised an eyebrow, rain droplets running down your face.
“Fine then.” Sehun replied, closing the door in a bid to drive off.
“No! Don’t go…Fine.” You squelched your way into the car, rain soaked clothes sticking to your back. As Sehun pulled away from the curb the atmosphere in the car grew tense. This was the last place you wanted to be, but it was better than getting pneumonia. You cleared your throat to ease the tension.
“You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?” You began in an attempt to break the ice. Sehun snorted, eyes briefly meeting yours.
“Kidnapping you would require me to spend time with you, so no. You’re safe.”
You rolled your eyes at his reply and watched as two rain droplets ran down the passenger window, trying to guess which one would make it down first.
“So… Were you just passing and saw me?” You asked inquisitively.
“No actually.” He replied, “I was watching you for like five minutes trying to walk. It was hilarious.” He laughed loudly, a nice sound, and you instantly regretted getting in the car. A thought suddenly tugged at your brain. Reaching your hand into your pocket you realised you had forgotten to lift the key to your house.
“Fuck” you groaned, head hitting the headrest. Sehun fired you a questioning glance before his eyes returned to the road.
“I forgot my house key.” You replied sheepishly.
“It’s okay, you can stay at mine until your parents are home.”
Upon hearing his words, your head snapped around so fast you were surprised a tendon didn’t pop. You searched Sehun’s face for any sign of sarcasm but he only swung the steering wheel around and headed towards the direction of his house. The rest of the journey was silent.

Sehun’s house was massive. You had heard his parents were rich but never for a second you thought that they would be that rich. His bedroom was the size of two rooms in your house put together. You sat awkwardly on his bed, staring around in awe whilst he went to fetch you a towel. Your eyes scanned past the shelf lined with basketball, tennis and other trophies. “Wow” you said silently - although you’d never admit to him you were impressed. Beside the shelf of trophies was a wall filled with photographs stuck up with cellotape. One photo pictured a young gap toothed Sehun. Another one clearly from a recent party - with Sehun posing beside a sleeping Baekhyun, his friend, who had a dick drawn on his face.
“He couldn’t get that marker off his face for days.” Sehun suddenly spoke, startling you.
“Here” he said, chucking you the fluffy blue towel. You towel dried your hair, watching as he rummaged in a drawer, pulling out a shirt and some sweatpants.
“They’ll be big but you can put these on if you want.” His cheeks suddenly tinted pink. “I’ll wait outside until your done.”
You said nothing as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Why was he being so nice to you?

You hated to admit it but you really had enjoyed Sehun’s company tonight. Wow I never thought I’d say that. Whilst he still managed to throw in a sly dig every now and again - you had saw a whole different side to him tonight, and you were even more confused about him.
You quickly got out of Sehun’s car, your thank you being met with only a scoff. You stood back and watched him drive off and disappear around the corner. It was cold now and you quickly knocked your front door, hopping from one foot to the other to stay warm.
Once inside you apologised to your parents for being late and immediately ran up stairs to ring Mark. He answered on the third ring.
“Hey!” His voice was cheery. “What’s up?”
Cutting to the chase you replied,
“Hi, do you know how to access the school message service from home?”
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds before a “Why?” entered your ear.
“I just forgot the reply to a message I was sent.” You lied.
“Oh okay” his voice lifted, clearly buying your lie. “Just login to the school website and you should be able to open it.”

You only half listened as Mark continued to jabber away. Grabbing your laptop you opened up the messages. Your breath audibly hitched in your throat when you saw you had a new message. Mark paused at your noise before launching into a rant about how Luhan on his soccer team was a “dirty player.”
Ignoring him, you opened it up and began to read.

Sender: Anonymous
Sent: 18:30

I wonder if your sheets are grateful
for touching your body
I wonder if in the mornings your mirror
always smiles to see you
I wonder if the heat of your body
could make the sun jealous
I want to ask you if you believe in soul mates
but I know you’ll either tease me
or shrug a little before tilting your chin to look at the sky the way you always do
as if holding your breath before speaking
as if kissing every word before they leave your lips
“what I believe” you said slowly
“is that there are some people with the potential to save you in the world”
and I waited for your eyes to turn to me
but they stayed on the clouds above
and I wonder if you’re waiting for that person to come around
I’ve stopped looking
you’re the only one I’ve found

You had said those words, just like the first time. It was part of your English presentation on Romeo and Juliet. You kept staring at the message on screen trying to decode any clues as to who it might be. You hadn’t realised your breathing was heavy until Mark’s voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Hello?” he spoke.
“Oh, um, hey. I’m still here. Can I call you back tomorrow? I’m just really tired.” You said, faking a totally unbelievable yawn.
“…Sure” he replied, skepticism evident in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine just exhausted. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You didn’t wait for his reply before hanging up. You brought the laptop closer to you, reading the words over and over again - your heart raising slightly more each time.
So many questions swam in your head. You leant back in bed and sighed, not being able to wipe the smile off of your face.

Sehun parked the car around the corner and watched you knock on your front door. He didn’t have to wait, yes he knew that, but he wanted to make sure someone would be home to let you in and that you were safe. Your small frame disappeared through the now open door and he pulled out his phone. He began to type, biting his lip as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Omake Translation for @kirishirnaayato (¼) 


Service in silence….there’s no sociability….. (T/N: I didn’t really know what to write for this but it’s basically referring to the fact that Yomo’s just sweeping the floor and not really interacting with the customers)

Uta; Because there’s some free time, I wonder if I can make a custom uniform.

There’s no free time or anything….

Kaneki; Tsukiyama-san, you’re such a hindrance. Please go buy supplies with Ayato-kun immediately. 

Tsukiyama-san’s the same, as always. 

Ayato; Haaah? “Ayato-chan”, was it?! (T/N: -chan is a suffix usually used for girls/little kids)

And so is Ayato. 

Touka; Tsukiyama….Mr. Shitty Hindrance, because you give me a bad feeling, hurry up and get out!

Nishiki; (T/N: don’t really understand what he’s saying, will edit later)

…But every time, those two smile for the sales. 

It's A Date

Prompt: A 15 yo Sofia got injured while she was skating but when she is under medical care, she refuses to tell her name (because she scared that Callie who’s working in the hospital as a nurse or whatever, would find out and ground her) and somehow she bonds with her doctor (Arizona).

Disclaimer: This is AU.  I do not own any of the characters from Grey’s Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will.  Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine.  I borrow…

AN: This was prompted a couple weeks ago. Sorry for the wait. Here’s a fun little one-shot for ya’ll. Enjoy!

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TZK does NOT have a twitter

I feel like the only way to convey the feelings of Tsuzuku’s latest blog entry goes something like this:

“I don’t have a Twitter.

I’ve been getting fanmails lately saying

‘Thank you for following me’

But I don’t have a Twitter.

I   D O   N O T   H A V E   A   T W I T T E R

Seriously, Meto and I do not have Twitters.

They’re fakers.

That’s all.”

(Please note that was slightly dramatized, it wasn’t a 100% accurate translation. But it gets the point accross)

My Day of Silence

Hello! I am a twenty-six year old working in customer service, and today, I participated in the Day of Silence usually done exclusively in schools. I knew from the start that it would be difficult, but I wanted to do it anyway - or, specifically, I wanted to do it because it would be difficult. It’s not as if this problem disappears after one graduates, and it still exists in schools, whether or not adults recognize that fact.

I took a pocket pad of paper and wrote an explanation for my silence on the first page, and then I went to work. Firstly, let me say that I am usually a chatterbox at work; while those around me tend to be reticent or quiet, I will usually joke and laugh and bring everyone together (even if it means they end up making fun of me). Because to me, a friendly, cohesive unit makes work a million times easier to get through. So let’s just say people noticed when I was, for once, silent.

Most coworkers were friendly about the idea, and some offered to help me with customers or any issues I might have. One even said she thought it was a brilliant idea, and she was glad I was participating. Customers were cooperative, and while some said, “that’s fine,” others said, “oh!” or “that’s great!” One even said, “oh, bless your little heart.” In fact, the only person who seemed to have a problem with it, and who treated me rudely, was one of my bosses - a person in position of power over me (that would be metaphor number one).

This boss (let’s call him Dick) - all day, Dick constantly came up to me, stuck his ear in my face, and said, “huh? What? I can’t hear you; speak up.” At first it was just an annoying joke, but he got meaner as the day progressed. “Hey, if I can get you to mess up and speak, does that mean you have to try all over again the next day? And the next? Can I get you to not speak until June?” “I usually can’t get you to be quiet. This is great.” He said these and more to me during the day, and because I’d vowed to not speak, he was basically able to walk all over me. No one defended me from his rudeness. (Metaphor number two.)

More, whenever I needed to speak to someone, or ask a question, I was unable to. And when I wanted someone’s attention - when normally I would just call their name to get them to turn to me - today people would walk right past me and not notice me, even if I waved frantically. (Metaphor number three.) I really felt invisible. Worse, when I tried to make myself understood by writing in my mini notepad, many pretended they didn’t see me writing so they wouldn’t have to read (really? is it that hard, people?). Dick even went so far as to keep moving right past me, saying, “nope, no, I don’t have any time to read your notes.” Wow. Taking the time to understand isn’t that hard. (Metaphor number four.)

Because I’d sworn not to speak, and struggled to maintain that vow, I found myself even laughing silently. I felt like even the slightest noise would be used against me (especially by Dick). Metaphor number five.

In the end, even though I worked a small shift of only five hours, I got back absolutely exhausted, frustrated, and bone-weary, as if I’d been fighting a very long and hard battle.

The good news? People learned. Not only did they read my explanation (in which, at the end, I encouraged them to think on the other voices they hadn’t heard, and realize this silence was forced on others every day), they saw me struggle with my inability to speak. They saw how hard it was to ask them questions, or to make myself understood. They saw how hard I had to work to complete the simplest things. And, thanks to Dick, they saw how people treat those of us who are silent.

Many people I worked with tried to get me to talk, and many more said I wouldn’t make it the full shift without speaking. Well, I did. Whether they believed in me or not, I continued on the path I’d chosen. (Metaphor number six, and the only even remotely hopeful one.) It was hard, however, and miserable, and something I would never want to do again.

For those of you who live this - I love you, and I’m so, so sorry for what people do - and don’t do. I don’t have words to express how much I want this world to change, for you and for others who suffer like you.

You are not alone. Together, even our silence can be strong.

Over the course of 24 hours, the administration line on out transgender military service went from silence to an outright proclamation that transgender people should not be barred from serving in the military.

‘I don’t think anything but their suitability for service should preclude them,’ newly confirmed Defense Secretary Ash Carter said on Sunday in Afghanistan.

Hours later, at the White House press briefing on Monday, the Obama administration backed Carter.

'The president agrees with the sentiment that all Americans who are qualified to serve should be able to serve,’ White House press secretary Josh Earnest said. 'And for that reason, we here at the White House welcome the comments from the secretary of defense. But in terms of — of additional steps that the Department of Defense will take to address this matter, I’d refer you to the secretary’s office.’

Asked about those next steps, Pentagon spokesperson Nate Christensen told BuzzFeed News, 'We’ll let the Secretary’s comments stand for themselves.’

anonymous asked:

hiiii! can you recommend me some good bagginshield smut fanfics? thanks!

Made and Remade the Necklace of Songs - In a Middle Earth where dwarves dream of Heartsongs and hobbits carry the name of their fated partner as private Mark, Bilbo Baggins had never been able to properly translate the strange rows of runes inscribed on his wrist.And likewise, Thorin Oakenshield had never imagined he would hear the voice of his Heartsong from a fussy little gentlehobbit.          

Language Barrier - If there is one problem with being imprisoned, aside from the prison itself, it is the boredom that inevitably sets in. How fortunate that entertainment can be found, particularly at the expense of others.Set during the Company’s imprisonment in Mirkwood.

Stretch Your Fingers - Hobbits and dwarves are very different to each other in plenty of ways.Bilbo would quite like to learn more about his travelling companions, but they seem to have gotten the idea first.

A Halo on Your Body - After a humid day’s ride, the Company are keen to bathe and Bilbo finds himself in the company of many naked dwarves, none of whom are shy.Perhaps the burglar in him is coming through, because Bilbo finds himself very interested in the shiny things they’ve adorned their bodies with.   

Bless Your Soles - Feet were sacred to dwarves, and Thorin had always done his best to adhere to the rules and keep his feet to himself.And then comes along Bilbo Baggins with his ever bare feet, and Thorin suddenly finds he can’t think of anything else. 

Gold? What Gold? - For this prompt from LJ: “Every dwarf has a go at Bilbo during the celebration of "we’ve got all our treasure back hurrah.” Everyone has a merry time, even sleepy, well-fucked Bilbo Baggins who ends up getting more attention than the gold, anyway.“And as usual, Thorin comes last. What it says on the tin. Bilbo/Everyone pretty much

A Lesson in Hobbit Hospitality - “You see a part of being a hobbit host is showing the best hospitality we can. And we do that by taking care of our guests every needs, including well that is—sexual needs. I didn’t provide those services.” A heavy silence settles over the pavilion as the dwarves all stare at Bilbo. Dori’s cheeks flush bright red as Bifur signs furiously; all the dwarves silently gawking at Bilbo. A sense of dread creeps up his chest as he looks around the dwarves. “Do dwarves not do that?” Bilbo/Everyone pretty much

Look Who’s Coming for Breakfast Who would want to have plain, boring old breakfast when there’s glorious morning sex to be had? Well, Bilbo would, for one, but unfortunately for him Thorin has other ideas. 

Another Use for Gold - Bilbo gets a nice present from his boyfriend for his birthday. He doesn’t quite know what to think of it, but as luck would have it, Thorin gladly does all the explaining for him. Thorin even uses a couple of words along the way. 

Catch a Dwarf by his Sword - Dwarves have but one love in their lives, and hence don’t have that much experience with making love. The average hobbit, on the other hand, generally knows a ton about sex, and fortunately for Thorin and Company, Bilbo Baggins is about as average a hobbit as they come. When a dinner turns awkward, it’s up to Bilbo to educate his dwarven companions. Set immediately after the end of the first movie, taking place between the Eyrie and the Mirkwood. 

Make all Large Deliveries in the Rear - Thorin has a massive knob. Bilbo is uneasy about this. Oh, and there’s a wedding in there somewhere too, which would explain the urgent need for some bedding. Size Kink

♕  Ⓑ Ⓞ Ⓣ Ⓣ Ⓞ Ⓜ   Ⓣ Ⓗ Ⓞ Ⓡ Ⓘ Ⓝ ♕

A Measure of Warmth - Set in an AU universe after the Hobbit book. Bilbo is living in Erebor, inside a mountain, and occasionally it can get cold. Fortunately, there are things that can be done about that.

Drawing Out the Pleasure - Dwarves have ridiculous endurance and it takes them a while before they reach climax. Amongst other dwarves, this is not a problem. With other races, however, the pairing might need to get creative about each other’s pleasures.Lucky for Thorin, Bilbo is quite capable of handling his dwarf. 

Up in Smoke - Winter is no time to be traveling over the mountains and so Bilbo finds himself staying in Erebor until spring. When a gift comes from the Shire, he’s more than willing to share his prize. After all, surely a relaxing pipe of Longbottom leaf could only be good for Thorin Oakenshield.

Have It All - Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, is a virgin. His Company gets a little too involved in the matter.(Except their burglar.)(Especially their burglar.) 

Deck the Halls with Dwarves and Quarries - Prompt: Mistletoe! But it’s only a tradition with Hobbits OR Dwarves, so one has to explain to the other. Christmas Porn.

Last Night in Laketown - Bilbo and Thorin simultaneously realise that the last time they had sex may be the last time they EVER have sex, with Smaug waiting just around the corner. There is only one problem where can they find short folk that are interested in sex with males in the middle of Laketown??! Sexy times ensue. 
‘I can think of someone who’s your height and male.’ Bilbo said slowly, that drink may have been stronger than he had thought, this was crazy. Was he being a little too obvious?‘I’m not having sex with Dwalin, he’s my best friend.’ Thorin snapped.Fucking really? Bilbo sighed; it was a good job Thorin was pretty. 

No Such Thing As Goodbye (OQ)

Because I find it utter bullshit that Emma believed SHE was the one who needed a moment alone with Robin.

I’m still pissed and in utter denial of what’s happened with Robin. It was unjust, uncalled for, and Regina needed this as much as I did. so sorry for the angst, but I hope you all enjoy.

She is numb. She is weak. She is stripped whole.

It’s been such a long, upward climb; such an awfully big mountain she’d had to claw her way back out of… and suddenly she’s that eighteen year old girl pleading with life to return her everything, pressing desperate wet lips to cold ones in an effort to revive what’s already been stolen.

Yes, Regina is well versed in being fucked over but this time she doesn’t fight. Doesn’t beg. Because she’s been here before and life has never been particularly kind to her, even if it’d promised her love and happiness with a man with a lion tattoo.

When Regina had first handed Robin those golden tipped arrows all those years ago she never would have dreamed they’d be wrapping them in roses and setting them upon his casket. Never would have wanted to see Roland stall with the confusion and the undeniable hurt of any child after losing not one parent but two before slowly adding his arrow to the pile.

He’s silent today, those brown eyes dimmed and his dimples buried and she aches with the thought of never seeing her thief’s face again. She prays these losses will not dim the light of her brave little knight’s soul.

The service continues in silence, save for the rumble of thunder as the sky cries for her thief and she tries so very hard not to fall apart.

It angers her that the Charming’s are all but huddled together to comfort each other – because they need all of the comfort in the world, she bites bitterly – while not one of them has even placed a hand upon her shoulder.

By the time the next flash of lightning illuminates the tombstone, most of the people have gone and she is left alone to stare stoically at a name that meant so much to her.

It takes her an hour. An hour before she sinks to her knees in defeat, the mud sloshing as she crashes, tainting her dark pantsuits as she lets go of the umbrella, watches it roll beside her as the rain starts to hit upon her back and her head, a cold sting, another reminder of the reality she is doomed to face.

Her Robin Hood is gone. Gone without an after life, without knowing where he would go, what would become of their family, what would become of her and he’d done it so willingly just to save her life that she’s clawing at her gloves to get them off, sinking her hands into the wet ground to clutch as her jaw finally drops on a desolate cry into the night that is swallowed by the thunderous storm raging above.

“I love you, Robin.” She whispers, her eyes glancing over the letters freshly sketched onto the tombstone before she’s looking up into the clouds, the raindrops falling about her face, mixing with hot tears as she rocks. “I love you so much, Robin please– don’t leave me.”

But he is gone. He is already gone and she hates that everything concerning him will be in past tense. He was an amazing father, a devoted friend, a loving boyfriend. Simply something that was instead of something that is but her love for him will always be present.

When her quiet sobs start to match the fury of the thunder above, Regina curses every being involved with ripping Robin away from her, for not giving them enough time – but also for letting her have him, if only for a fleeting moment in time.

There may never be presses of fuzzy kisses to her cheek, never another sparkle of blue eyes nor a rumble of his low voice as he laughs and the thought that these too will fade from memory in years to come have her heaving before she curls muddy hands to her chest and feels the pounding of her heart harder than it ever has.

“I love you.” She chokes into the sky and she pleads that somehow, someway, he will hear because he has to know. He should have known but she’d wasted so much time fuck why had they wasted so much time?

And now they have none.

You are my future, Regina.

“And you were mine.” Because she’d dreamed of a house with all their children, of waking up to him curled against her back, of lazy Saturday mornings and busy lunch breaks that would end up with him kissing her senseless against her desk and with a single selfless act these things too have ceased to exist with him.

It is dark by the time Regina finds the will to stand. By now her clothes have all but soaked through and she’s chilled to the bone, sniffling as she stands to find the tombstone is still standing upright, that her Robin is still not with her, and with more of a purpose she turns the pulsing object in her hand over once, twice, admiring the color and the defeat, before she wraps it delicately into the pouch and then pushes back enough dirt to hide it beneath the ground, just above his casket.

“Use mine, for the both of us.”

Her voice is hoarse, absolutely wrecked, and she has to scrunch her nose up to keep from sobbing once more. It’s not meant to dull her ache, or even to keep from experiencing her grief full force, but more so returning what rightfully belonged to him.

"It was always yours, Robin.” Her heart, from the moment she’d left it in his safekeeping when they’d first met, was his and there was no greater truth then that.

Her eyes glance over the name once more, eyes swollen and puffy as she takes a shaky breath. If they’d managed to get through so much, if David has managed to live with Mary Margaret’s heart in her chest, if Hook has managed to make it back from the underworld, then she will find a way to make sure her Robin never ceases to exist. That he is never forgotten.

"I’ll see you later, thief.” And she aches with the thought that he would have teased her, would have smirked at the use of his nickname and she can all but see those lips, that smile if she closes her eyes.

And she can all but imagine him saying until later, m'lady because there was no such thing as goodbye between soulmates. Just a promise of meeting each other again someday – somehow, someway. Of the forest her lovely man was from and she hopes that someday, in the rustle of leaves, in the promise of spring, that she’ll find him there again.

Virgo releases Leo’s need for attention and the spotlight. Virgo is content working in the background and prefers function over glamor - directing service in silence rather than Leo’s bellowing displays of charity. Virgo lets go of the me in transition for Libra to open the door to ’us’. Scorpio seeks to consummate this.