#shelly pandora hearts

[antihero-writings]

If Everything Breaks

Fandom: Pandora Hearts

Summary: Break doesn't like to dance…but maybe just this once || A tale of Break as he grows accustomed to his life with the Rainsworths. My fic for the Chained Pandora Hearts Zine! Written to go alongside @paraffinegg’s art!!

For a while I’ve had some headcanons on how Break picked his new name, and I thought, what better time to write about it than my zine fic!

When Kevin opened his eyes, the light was too bright. No…not eye-s. Just the one. The other’s empty socket throbbed like mad.

As said eye adjusted, vague shapes became clearer: the bed he was on, the tables and chairs around him—(too lavish a room for him)—and finally a person.

“My name...is Alice.” 

He shot up, knocking his head against the headboard.

She laughed...an oddly bright sound.

Framed in sunlight, a woman was smiling at him.

“Where am I?” he demanded, voice hoarse.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s rude to address a duchess’ daughter so informally, you know.”

His eye widened. This unassuming lady was a duchess’ daughter?

“I am Shelly Rainsworth. ...You showed up at our door covered in blood. ...Quite an entrance, I must say.”

The Rainsworths? He searched his brain but couldn’t find record of the name.

“And you are?”

No one had asked his name in a long time. And if he had told them, well…he would’ve had to kill them.

No one had asked his name in a long time. And if he had told them, well…he would’ve had to kill them.

“You killed so many people! What a fool you were!”

Best not pronounce his identity just yet. For her sake.

“You don’t want to tell me.” There was no question, nor distrust there. “That’s fine. But I need something to call you.”

Her smile was not wicked, nor pitying.

It had been a long time since anyone treated him like more than a monster to be feared, or a toy to plucked and prodded—his important parts ripped out; broken like all the promises of a better world—

“...keep breaking just like that…

If all the people break, and the world breaks…

and everyone and everything goes mad…

Then I can be normal...right?”

He looked away, reaching for his left eye, finding bandages and blossoming pain where sight was supposed to be. He grimaced before answering softly:

“Break. Just…Break.”

********

A world bathed in golden light, music coiling in the atmosphere. With its cues feet glided, hands entwined, and dresses fluttered just above the ground like broken butterflies’ wings.

A cacophony of meaningless noise.

It’s all mad. 

Kevin stood by the stairs as if painted there.

It wasn’t that he disliked balls…okay, no, he did; balls, banquets…gatherings of any kind, really. But, this was the Rainsworth’s party, so attendance was mandatory.

Too bright lights, too loud music, gossip picking at his skull, and, well…people. It all blended together to create a painful buzzing in his head.

The crippled butterflies flew in the other direction around their cage.

“Come on, Cheshire, let’s dance!”

The dancing was the worst part. All those moves to remember, so much to get wrong...and for what? A good show? He had no talent for it, but hopping around, without stepping on anyone's toes—a trained monkey to someone else’s tune, and an uncompromising paradigm—held no appeal for him anyways.

Count the seconds. How many left?—

What do I have left to lose?

“Be it my arms, my legs…I grant you whatever your heart desires!

So please…change the past for me!”

Count the steps. Trace the sequence.

So many wasted moments in pursuits of stillborn dreams, the pattern already predetermined.

“It’s that man.” The hiss came from the side of the room.

He knew who they were talking about; whispers were his loyal familiar.

Kevin wasn’t looking, but he could feel her eyes burning holes in him, like she was trying to snuff out a cigarette.

“The one the Rainsworths took in.”

A second burning hole. His thoughts would surely catch fire.

He shut his eye, his knuckles white on the staircase railing.

“Have you seen his eyes?”

He silently refuted her statement: Nope. Just the one, Dear. The other was stolen away. Apparently they’re a precious commodity to little lunatics in the center of the universe.

“I know right? Red.”

Fingers shoved into his eye socket, pain boring through the hole left…

Screaming rending the air—was it his voice? His throat was burning—

“Fu-fu It’s beautiful.”

“They make him so creepy!”

“I still don’t understand why they took him in.”

“Don’t they know how to take out the trash?” Laughter like venom.

He leaned back, putting his hand on his forehead, trying not to let it travel to his socket.

The words wove around his inner works, pulling taut. He tried not to think of death—(theirs, or his own)—as an excuse, or escape. But too often his mind drifted to a darkened room full of coffins, and a little girl begging him to stay.

Was it his fault, then? Was all of this…inevitable?

“Break!”

The word was a crack in reality. Another, better world, reaching out to him.

If there is such a thing.

He looked up, as if at the bottom of a mineshaft, to see Shelly on the staircase above him.

The thing about being in a high position is one gains the luxury of indifference; those in power rarely care for those below them. They can afford not to.

She caught his eye and motioned for him to come up to her.

...The Rainsworths were different.

“Come quickly, there’s a man covered in blood!”

Dare he? Surely he must stay against the wall, he was plastered there after all.

This room shone gold. Yet the Rainsworths were brighter; they were a kind of light those in the room knew nothing of. So bright were they that those in the dark dare not touch them, for fear of being shown in the sun for what they really were.

She put her hands on her hips.

...He dare not disobey.

And what was becoming of him? He didn’t feel brighter since meeting them. What if it was the other way around? With each step closer he swore he could hear the pieces of his shattered heart jangling in his chest, and wondered if instead he’d leave them all bleeding on those sharp edges.

A blur went by, closely followed with—

“Dance with me, Reim!” Little Sharon came pelting after.

Reim hid behind Sheryl’s chair on the floor below, and Rufus proceeded to scold them.

Laughter like sunshine breaking after rain.

He looked at Shelly, who raised an eyebrow.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in perhaps…ever.”

He was smiling? Better wipe it off.

“So…something tells me you don’t feel like dancing.”

“I never cared for it, Shelly-sama.”

“Let’s see, you don’t care for;”—She counted on her fingers—“people talking to you, people looking at you, people…aaand dancing now.”

He rolled his eye. “I mean it. I really can’t.”

“What do you say to a lesson?” She held out her hand.

He stumbled back.

Was this some punishment? He tried to think of anything he’d done to deserve this.

“It would disgrace a lady such as yourself to be seen dancing with a servant.”

“We could use a good scandal.”

“I—” he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d step on your toes.” He was running out of excuses.

“I don’t doubt it.”

What wasn’t she getting about this?

Shelly bounced her hand persistently.

No. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t. Dare touch her. Surely he’d infect her. Why was she bothering with him? Pestering him, like she always did. Like everyone always did. Treating him like a lost puppy, when they should just leave him in the rain to die.

The request was soft: “Please dance with me, Xerxes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “…What did you call me?”

He never spoke of his past, but he knew those whispers, ever at his heel, were indication enough of something dark in his ill-conceived adulthood.

“Well, I figured if you’re keeping a fake name, you’ll need a second. Or, in this case a first—Break sounds better as a surname, don’t you think? And I thought Xerxes was rather fitting.”

“How?” He snorted. “Isn’t it a name for ancient kings and heroes? I fail to see how I fit that.”

How could a knight wear the name of a king? How could a villain bear the name of a hero?

“That’s why I picked it.”

He backed up, his eye widening.

He didn’t understand what she was, or why she ever spoke to him. All that light was sickening...yet…

This woman saw him, not as a monster, or a toy…but as some sort of hero. How was that possible?

The name didn’t fit right. But she smiled at him, and though the light was sickening... it was oddly warm.

“Break might not like to dance, but tonight we are not Break and Shelly. I am the Queen of Hearts, and you are my Mad Hatter.”

“...Who said I was mad?”

She grinned.

“You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.”

He could choose to turn away, leave this place, believe the whispers snaking through him. Reject the name, her kindness, her light.

He sighed, averted his eye—

Just this one. 

And took her hand.

[rlxb]

"Please... no matter how much despair awaits them... Let what remains at the end of their stories... Be like that sunny day... Full of gentle light."

[chernychnyi]

shelly

[lilium-dragomir]

[existingtm]

Jun Mochizuki about to make the Rainsworth lineage

Any Writing Professor: Do not name any two characters with the same letter, it will confuse your audience.

George RR Martin and Hidetaka Miyazaki: This is Radagon, who married Rennala, mother of Ranni who likes to pose as Renna, enemy of Rykard and Radahn. He is really Marika, Maliketh's Goddess, mother to Morgott (AKA Margit) Mohg, Malenia mother of Millicent, Miquella, possibly Melina and now Messmer, and she had them after she raised Godwyn and Godefroy with Godfrey, from whom Godrick is descended.

[seashelldom]

: ̗̀➛ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: tonowari x fem!reader na'vi

word count: 1.9k

shelli's note. SFW angst, fluff, "so i decided to make this for those who needed closure, but overall i decided to stop it at part 2 because of the angst lovers yk.."

masterlist | part 1, part 2, alternate ending

Tonowari's day after your interaction wasn't the best one. He woke up with a headache and a lack of warmth next to him. You.

You were all he's ever known and when you were gone, he knew he'd faced the consequences of his actions. Looking back at what he said and did he felt like the worst person on Pandora. He cursed himself that night. And morning. And after that. And after. After that too.

It was lonely in his marui [Metkayina's type of house]. By himself with his thoughts. And depressing thoughts at that. Now he understood why you were so "clingy". He was gone most days and nights hunting with those poor excuses he called "friends". And you were cast aside in your mother's marui. Alone with your thoughts. Just as he was at the moment.

He knew he'd have to make things right. Even if you wouldn't forgive him. Tonowari wanted you to at least know that he truly felt sorry and that his heart ached for you.

Days flew by as Tonowari still did not get used to the pain. He was a mess. How could he control this village without his precious Tsahik?

"The nets should go on the western part of the island.", said one of the Awa'Atlu officials.

"I agree, it's best for the hunting.", said another.

"What do you think, sir?", they asked Tonowari.

"I think it's fine.", he replied harshly before standing up and making his way to leave the meeting.

Tonowari also heard a few whispers behind his back.

"Where is the Tsahik?" [Female leader, healer, and Eywa's speaker of a clan.]

"This village is a mess without her.."

"Maybe she got fed up with Tonowari's actions."

This earned them a nasty glare by Tonowari. He was already acting coldly to everyone due to the situation. He didn't need to be furious about it. The whispers said a few nervous apologies before Tonowari walked out.

But before he could trek more, a certain na'vi woman caught his eye. You. Oh, Eywa. How his heart ached for your love and touch once more. How much he wished to be in your presence again, you would never know. Or would you?

His admiration slowly rose to anger. He was supposed to be there right now with you. Helping you. Laughing with you.

Tonowari's quiet admiration was suddenly broken by a familiar face. One of his hunting friends.

"Tonowari, what are you looking at-..", their eyes slowly followed Tonowari's to see you. They scoffed and gave Tonowari a smug grin.

"There's no way you want her back?", they added.

Tonowari gave them a glare before saying, "Yes, I do. I realized I don't need kurkungs [assholes] like yourself to tell me what I should do with the love of my life."

He harshly dropped the heavy nets onto their arms. Causing them to stumble back a bit.

"Bring these to the western side of the island.", Tonowari continued before walking away from his "friend".

As Tonowari continued walking he caught eyes with you from a distance. It was like the entire world stopped around you. Leaving the both of you alone. Eywa, you wished you had not but your heart skipped a beat. You wondered if his did too.

You realized what you were doing only a mere two seconds later and quickly broke eye contact. Trying your very best to revert your attention back to helping your mother with her chores. But how could you revert all your attention back to chores when he was standing there all alone. Almost like he was waiting for you. You could feel his eyes on you.

And staring he was. He wanted to pick you up into his arms and tell you how much of a kurkung [asshole] he was and how much he loved you. And he was in fact waiting. He knew you would not come to him, but he hoped with the little hope he had that you would. And when you didn't, he sighed in defeat as he walked away, with his head down.

To win your heart over again would take many eclipses.

But then again, his heart yearned for yours for far too many eclipses as well. What could he lose?

For he had already lost the most precious thing that ever happened to him with a blink of an eye.

"He- He said that?", you asked your Mother. Your eyes widen as your mother explained the situation with her own eyes. Tonowari stood up for you? Apparently, while you were helping your mother with her chores, your mother was accidentally eavesdropping on Tonowari's conversation.

"Yes, Maite [daughter], with that stern voice of his.", your Mother said quite suggestively with a side-smirk and a playful jab to your side.

You chuckled softly. "Saʼnok [mother], what are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, my dear.", she paused as she thought for the right words. "Maybe what drove you two away was the lack of communication."

And with that she got up from her seat and walked out of the marui. You knew exactly what she was doing, chuckling at the thought of your mother hinting you some advice.

Was she right? You would just have to find out.

Tonowari breathed quiet breaths as he stood in his marui, glancing around at the quiet space, that he had created. His eyes fell onto that same seashell. He took it in his hand and sighed a big, long breath of exhaustion.

Some faint footsteps were heard, but he drowned them out.

Silence.

"You still kept it?" His ears perked up at the familiar voice. He turned around to see you, in the flesh. Standing in the marui you both had once shared.

He was dumb-struck. Mainly with the fact that you would even consider talking to him. And also that you came here, with such boldness. He gulped and knew he couldn't mess this up, you never said it but he knew this counted as a second chance.

He would be Pandora's biggest skxawng [moron, idiot] if he screwed up.

Tonowari blinked a few times before completed turning around to face you. "Yes- Yes, I did. I did keep it."

He was nervous. Avoiding eye contact like it was the plague. And you could see goosebumps forming on his neck. That was a little fun fact you picked up on when you were both caught kissing behind his mom's marui one evening years back.

Tonowari breathed a sharp inhale. He didn't know what to say because frankly, he didn't know why you were here. To tell him off? To make things right? Or something.. more?

"Come sit with me.", you said firmly. No stutter. Nothing. You made your way over just outside the marui. Sitting down in front of it, your feet and calves in the water. He complied quickly, sitting down next to you. Following you like a child would to their mother.

The next few seconds were pure silence. Not the kind of silence you would like to avoid. The kind where you could relax and get some pressure off by doing so.

You looked down at the water in front of you, staring at your reflection. In the reflection, you could see your face and a sad Tonowari glancing at you every half-second or so. Wondering if he should speak or be spoken to.

"I'm sorry.", he finally said. His words came out quieter than intended. He cleared his throat and looked at your face again. You said nothing and just let out an audible exhale of weariness.

You felt a hand on your chin causing your teary eyes to look into his.

"Yawntu [beloved], please. Look at me.", he said quietly. You bit your cheek.

"Why would you say those things about me, Tonowari?"

He took his hand off your chin carefully but you still remained gazing into his eyes. "That was foolish of me. Oeru txoa livu, yawntu. [I'm sorry, lover.]" He paused and then continued.

"I spent all my time on my work, and I didn't pay enough attention to you. And how sevin [beautiful] you are. I know that now."

He bit his tongue. Indicating he wants to say something bitter, but something that needs to be said.

"You deserve better than me.", he held his head low as he spoke.

"You don't mean that.", you muttered softly while repositioning to look at him as you sat.

"I do. And if I could take back all of what I said, I would.", his brows furrowed. "No. I will."

"I promise I will, I'll make it up to you."

You stayed silent. Promise, he says. Yet again, you're in the same spot. Just outside your marui, listening to him as he promises you something that you doubt he can give. Can he?

The sun began to set as it touched your azure features and his back.

The sky-people had this funny phrase they used. Second time's the charm?

"Okay.", you said, meeting his eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'll give you this one chance. You gave me your word. Your promise. Do not let me down, Tonowari.", you said with a bit of a pleading face but one that was soft. Your gaze softened as your eyes collided with his.

His face instantly decompressed. The wrinkles on the sides of his eyes pushed up. His lips shined a bright smile. Eywa, you missed it. His smile was something you never thought you needed but when you saw it, your body felt instant joy.

"Irayo." [Thank you], he suddenly pulled you in for a hug. It caught you off guard but you eased into it. Your arms wrapped around his back like a puzzle piece to another. Like it was meant to be.

"Nìprrte’." [Pleasurably; You’re welcome], you said back, your face buried in between his shoulder and neck.

Behind him you saw locals gazing at the exchange, smiling and conversing with one another. Was their cherished Tsahìk back?

The waves crashed gently with one another as the sun was high up in the sky. The perfect start to the perfect day.

The view pans over to a happy Tonowari.

"We should move hunting to the south side of the island. There are more fish there, even if the waves are large it'll be better for the clan.", said one Metkayina hunter.

"No way, our hunters will tire out in those waves before eclipse even hits! We should stick with the east side.", said another. They both looked over to Tonowari, expecting him to find a conclusion to the mess.

Tonowari cleared his throat and spoke up. "We will send our strongest to the south side. Our beginners and our less experienced will stay on the east side." His words sent joyful smiles to all the hunters and leaders. Tonowari's behavior had a big contrast to his behavior in the last meeting. From pissed and snarky to caring and kind. Regardless of this, they weren't complaining.

"Fyole!" [sublime; beyond perfection], said one of the hunters, happy with the arrangement.

Tonowari heard a few whispers behind his back.

"What's gotten him so joyful?"

"My my, Eywa must've heard the clan's prayers."

"The Tsahìk must be back."

But this time, the whispers only made him even more optimistic.

And back you were. His cherished, priceless Tsahìk. Which he had promised the world.

PLEASE READ. If you're a bit confused about why Tonowari is now feeling bad please read this. I know it's a bit of a cliche for the main love interest to so suddenly feel bad without even understanding the M/C's emotions. Tonowari actually did understand. In the time that he was alone, he realized that he thought you were so 'nagging' because he never even spent time with you. Since he only spent a few moments with you at the max, his image of you changed to you asking him to spend more time with him. Which resulted in him thinking you were so 'nagging'. He realized that he was a douchebag for thinking that way and he began to put the pieces together!

shelli's note. So.. I didn't expect His Promise to get that much love. Obviously, when my fics reach 1,000+ likes I get so stoked. It's amazing really, I'm genuinely thankful for the support.

© seashelldom 2023 ; all rights reserved ; do not translate, copy, claim my work as your own, or repost on another site.

[phxntomhives]

Pandora Hearts Headcanons to fill the void in my heart

Some of them are painful

Spoiler for all of the manga (mostly post canon)

I had to take breaks because I just started crying all over again

Gil, Sharon and Reim did the tea party at the end, as a memorial for the everyone 🥺. They tried to invite as many people as they could.

Emily has her own spot with her own teacup. At the same table there are also two rabbits.

Duke Barma and Shelly came together. He got her flowers.

Vincent tried to not come but ended up trying to take a peak, Gil saw him and forced him to join in another room where they spent some time together while being hidden.

Leo adopted several cats. They are all named after characters of the serie Elliot likes. And he brought them all to the party (Gil's wasn't happy but he didn't complain either)

They all took a picture in the end, everyone was trying to smile but the sadness was still present.

Ever since then they do the tea party once a year to maintain the memories and feel like they are all still present with them.

Reim had to organize Break's funeral almost on his own because Sharon couldn't make decisions. But they kept Emily always around. Their children know that the doll is important, they use it to play but with the most care. They feed her candies.

Gilbert started to keep a diary of things he wanted to share with Oz and Alice. He wrote several of them and each is kept safe. He doesn't know if he will force them to read it, but he finds comfort in still sharing his daily life with them.

Leo took interest in literature and follows all the series he thinks Elliot would enjoy.

[evita-shelby]

Tie your heart to mine

Chapter 12

Cw:mentions of death, near death expiriences and trauma

Gif by @emziess

No more lying, Diane means it.

So when she offers him a tour of the house to get away from the servant’s watchful eyes, the witch proves it.

“Ask away.” She says leading him into the gallery.

Her mom has a love for the dark, most of Francisco Goya’s paintings and other obscure works adorn the walls of her private gallery in the small drawing room.

But here she displays some you would find in a normal estate.

Some portraits of her family, one of a long dead Smith relative, Beatte Smith, that she swindled from the 9th Duke of Rutland at Belvoir Castle the moment she got proof that the Romani King, Absalom Smith, was truly her ancestor and that his lovely daughter deserved to be displayed in her descendant’s house.

“Why were you so angry at me not treating your prophecy seriously?” Tom asks looking at Waterhouse’s Pandora as he asks her.

Rather fitting, he is opening the box and unleashing everything with that question.

Up until now, she had avoided speaking of her family history.

There was no need to ruin things with all of the skeletons in their closet.

“On my tenth birthday, I predicted Aunt Polly’s death, and five months later, she was shot in the head by the IRA.

A few years later, when I was fourteen, I was misdiagnosed with consumption by doctors because my best friend who sat beside me school, Cathy Shelly, caught it and died from it that same week.

Thank God it had been pneumonia and I survived when many of my classmates didn’t, but it still changed my perspective to know it is always one step behind me.

That even if I can feel it coming, I cannot stop it. Not for me not for anyone.”

Always one step behind her and that one day it will catch up or take someone she loves forever.

Now that she knew it was stalking Tom, she was so afraid of losing him. Of having him gone just like that.

Tom knew death, perhaps more than she did. He and his sister had been so young when their mum died of Influenza.

Stupid of her to expect him to have reacted to the inevitability of death like she did.

“I’m sorry for saying those things to you that night, we all process these things differently and I should’ve known better than to judge you for how you deal with shit like that.” She apologized and he accepted it.

“I suppose I could forgive you, like you said we deal with it differently.” Tom gave her hand a squeeze and even a small smile as they made up. “But I won’t accept your apology until you are completely honest with me about this.

Do you feel it coming for me?” he asks, deathly serious, his hand growing clammy in hers.

It being death, even calling it so is enough to scare the both of them.

“A chill in my bones every time I see you in your uniform, but mama sees us married with children, so perhaps it isn’t your death I feel might be someone else.” Diane answered wishing she could lie and say no, I don’t think you’re dying.

Death was a tricky thing to pin down in visions, her mother only saw it when it was going after a stranger or when she could prevent it for a loved one.

She didn’t see Tom’s death but saw a death in his family.

Maybe Douglas, or Lois or the baby that keeps appearing in Lois’ cards lately.

“Married, eh? Can’t even work up the courage to tell you I love you and you’re telling me I either die or settle down with you.” He pushes away his fears with his jokes and Diane realizes she doesn’t mind it anymore. Not one bit.

“I think you just did, Tommy.” The witch feels herself soar with that casual I love you he had said.

“Would you like to hear it again?” he asked with that grin of his that drives her crazy.

“As if you need to ask.” Diane answered knowing those three words will stay with her forever.

He leans down, letting her throw her arms around his neck as she stands as far as her tiptoes allowed her to and meet him halfway. “I love you, and I’m going to love you even if I don’t come back.”

“He’s dying isn’t he?” her husband asks as they quietly observe the young couple hiding in the maze.

They weren’t seen by Florence, but Tommy and Eva could see them just fine from their bedroom window.

Bennett had gotten their daughter something for her birthday, a necklace he puts on her as they sit on one of the white stone benches in the walled maze.

Diane kissed his cheek in thanks and her boyfriend says something that has the two of them laughing quietly before deciding Florence and Gabriel have been tortured enough.

They were young and in love, and it was a sight that contrasted with the grim future awaiting them.

“Prisoner of war, but no, Tom Bennett’s not dying.” The witch shook her head smiling softly as she saw how sweet they were with each other.

Eva sees Douglas Bennett become a shell of himself when they tell him Tom’s missing in France, she sees him ignoring the sirens telling him to run and sees him accept death as he asks Josie to forgive him for not taking care of the children better.

“But his father will.”

[schleckermaul]

THE ABSENCE AND PRESENCE OF FAMILY

this topic has been on my mind for a while, just because i like thinking about the themes and their implications in pandora hearts.

i didn't have a clear narrative in mind for this post and it honestly ended in my rambling emotionally a little, but i wanted to talk about kevin regnard, the place kevin and break have in the story, and how it makes sense that we barely know anything about their biological family when break was still kevin regnard. lots of talking about family, and what it means to xerxes break within the "story".

so! break doesn't have a biological family in the manga. he never mentions them. even the sinclair household barely gets mentioned in depth. a couple of important details here:

break only ever mentions the "sinclair household" and his "master". we know that small lady sinclair survived, the youngest of multiple daughters, but we don't know her name. break never actually mentions any names. the only image we ever see of the sinclairs counts seven people, including small lady sinclair, all clouded in shadow. and break's biological family?

the same goes for them. he calls his biological family a household that had produced knights for the sinclairs for generations. we know he'd served the sinclairs since his youth for that reason. everything else remains unknown. they're never mentioned again.

i think this is due to a bunch of reasons, one of which is of course just not having the space or time for it within the manga. break's arc is not about who he was before, his entire purpose is about accepting the past and living in the present.

break tried changing the past, and it only made things worse. he knows he doesn't have a future. he knows he'll die soon. but he exists as a learning tool for us, the readers, and also for the characters within the manga. you can't change the past. you have to accept it. once you've lost something, you'll never get it back.

break has lost the sinclairs. he's lost his master, he's lost little lady sinclair, and he's lost any family he might have had as kevin regnard. and he's accepted it. there's an unspeakability to it, you know? this is a loss so large that break has only ever mentioned it to lady shelly, and by extension, lady sheryl. nobody else knew. it's a loss untold.

there's also the layer of pandora hearts being a story. a book. break might have had a biological family, but does it matter, in the grand scheme of the story that the jury is trying to tell? we don't care about who kevin regnard was, we care about who xerxes break is, right now, and what he can teach us throughout the narrative. it doesn't get mentioned because it doesn't relate to the story that the jury is wanting to tell.

kevin regnard has a family. that's not who we're reading about tho, is it?

xerxes break has a family, as well.

sheryl rainsworth is a woman without a husband, who has lost her daughter to illness, her son-in-law never mentioned once. her granddaughter is the only biological family she has left. the rainsworths are the only of the four dukedoms who have royal lineage. you could argue that bloodlines should probably be most important to them, out of all people.

sheryl rainsworth has absolutely no issue with xerxes break calling himself the father of her granddaughter. implied, the lover of her late daughter. implied, her son. sheryl rainsworth corrects him gently— that might be true in parts, but you're more like siblings, aren't you?

xerxes break does not have a father, but he is a father. and a brother. and a son. the rainsworths are not his biological family, but they are his family. the bloodline doesn't matter. sheryl rainsworth calls him a child of her household, and that's what he is.

and, last, but not least:

kevin regnard is nobody's child, as far as we know. xerxes break?

xerxes break is a child of misfortune.

[diivineray]

The impact of this man on my life has been profound. Time and time again, it feels like he has saved me. In fact, it's not just him, but the entire world of Pandora Hearts that has had a profound effect on me. It was there that I met friends who have become an integral part of my life. However, it's his story that continues to inspire and guide me, always providing me with the strength and wisdom I need.

He made some really big mistakes. he knows he did. He takes accountability for it. every bad thing that happens to him he takes as punishment for his past sins and even then, he still feels so unworthy of good things. of having ppl around him who love him. He has to be reminded that he's cared for. that people do things for him not because he's a burden, but because they love him. when I first started this series, I was very much like him. I believed I had to shoulder all my problems on my own because they were my problems. I was always there for others. I was the smile that kept people breathing. I'd lost count of how many people I talked off the ledge knowing how much I wanted to die myself.

break hits me deep in a place because he wanted to die also. After what he did, he hated himself. He wanted to die. he saw no more reason for living, but Shelly helped him find another way. she knew then that he wasn't ready to see exactly what that way was, so she gave him a task. find out of the truth of 100 years ago, let that be his reason for living. and break clung to it. but he knew, and shelly knew there was more that was keeping him there. sharon, liam, sheryl. he had found a new family.

Break knew he only had one year left, and he spent being reckless. acting like he didn't care about it. like he was ready. I know deep down when I talk about wanting to die its not the truth. I just want things to change. I don't really want it. the same he didn't want to die when the time came. he was so busy focusing on the outcome that he forgot to live. he had everything he wanted and he did his damn best to atone for his sins. He let his body suffer for it, he let his heart suffer for it. he paid for his sins. he's not perfect, and its his imperfection, his flaws that make me love him so much. he's a life lesson for so many things. seriously, 11? 12 years later?? and his story still makes me cry. it still makes my heart flip in my chest.

[independentartistbuzz]

7 FROM THE WOMEN: SHELLY RUDOLPH

We are delighted to welcome Shelly Rudolph, Portland Oregon based singer-songwriter who recently released her new single "I Love LOVE", featuring Charlie Hunter.

This song is a standout example of how the intricacy of jazz, the sophistication of soul, the infectious groove of funk, and the emotive depth of blues can be transformed into a mesmerizing, seductive package.

With a music career of more than twenty years, Shelly has masterfully blended jazz, soul, blues, R&B, reggae, and pop to create a unique and captivating sound. Based in Portland, Oregon, she has become a local favorite, known for her soulful vocals and dynamic performances.

Her latest album, “The Way We Love,” showcases a bold departure from traditional jazz, featuring a drum-less, chamber jazz style in collaboration with cellist David Darling. Shelly has graced the stage alongside notable artists like Tom Grant and Phil Baker of Pink Martini, earning praise for her genre-blending music and poetic lyrics.

Internationally, her music can be heard on platforms such as Spotify and Pandora, as well as jazz radio stations across Europe, Japan, Indonesia, and the Middle East. On the local front, Shelly is deeply involved in community projects and has been recognized with awards like the RACC Professional Development Grant and a selection for Mayor Adams’ Listen Local program.

We connected with Shelly for an Exclusive 7 From The Women Interview:

What Have You Been Working To Promote Lately?

My newest release is called "I Love LOVE" featuring Charlie Hunter. I think of it as my sassy, soulful anthem of Universal Love.

The words may be sweet and powerful, but the message is an urgent call to celebrate and share love - in any and every flavor - all ways, always.

Please tell us about your favorite song written, recorded or produced by another woman and why it’s meaningful to you.

I don't have a favourite song, but everything that Afro-Peruvian singer songwriter icon Susanna Baca is filled with meaning for me.

She epitomizes and embodies the soulful, spiritual, sensual, truthful, universal power of womanhood to me. She is magic.

What does it mean to you to be a woman making music/in the music business today and do you feel a responsibility to other women to create messages and themes in your music? 

As the world becomes increasingly untethered and chaotic and as the old guard male archetype fights to keep its power, and squash women's rights, I feel compelled to create and lift up my voice authentically and powerfully.  I

wrote a song called "Wild Bird" which yet to be officially released but here a live performance with the wonderful A-WOL Dance Collective: 

"Wild Bird" seeks to express the richly nuanced, multi-faceted mystery and glory of being female. 

As a tender-hearted poet and a soft-spoken lady, I sometimes feel that my way of being, my art, is too gentle to "make a difference" but then my inner-knowing reminds me: dismissing my true voice as not being "enough" is to judge myself through a traditional masculine lens of black and white might. 

So I continue to whisper and roar, giggle and guide, wildbird-soar and LOVE with all of my might. 

What female artists have inspired you and influenced you?

My first (musical) loves were Billie Holiday, Aretha and Nina Simone.

Then I discovered Ms Baca. More recently I’ve become a huge fan of Lianne LeHavas. 

What was the most challenging thing you have had to face as a female artist?

It had definitely been a challenge for me to take up space and stand in my own authority as an original artist in this male-dominated world.

I find myself automatically deferring to musicians who have more official education and training… feeling that they know better, know how to do it “correctly.” Which is so absurd as these are my songs and I’m the only one who knows what I hear and how they go. I’ve made great strides in standing by my vision - while still being open to suggestions and collaboration- but I still have to remind myself to stay vigilant and true to my inspiration. 

If you could collaborate with any other female artists, who would you choose?

Susana Baca! I would love to record Wild Bird with her, in Spanish and English. 

What do you hope to share with other women in the industry with your music?

I’d love to share and inspire authenticity and the great joy of being female - in all of it’s mysterious deep glory. 

Finally – Where can we find you online?

Connect with Shelly Rudolph:

Website // Instagram // Spotify // YouTube

[antihero-writings]

The Uninvitation

Fandom: Pandora Hearts

Summary: Shelly's funeral was very nice. Everyone said so. Break isn't so sure. As he stands at her grave, an unwelcome visitor shows up. Written for the Pandora Hearts Month 2023 Prompt: "Grave."

It was a very nice funeral. Everyone said so.

As if funerals can be nice.

Sure, the sun was shining, the snow was sparkling. Maybe that made it nice. But should the “niceness” of funeral be measured in the kindness of the weather, and the youth of the flowers?

Then again, of course it was nice; Sheryl had spared no expense; the ceremony, the food, the flowers, the decorations were each extravagant in their own ways. Shelly surely wouldn’t have cared about pomp and circumstance, but nice plates and vases were all Sheryl had, so the rest of them weren’t about to stop her.

Sheryl always stood tall, but one day Break found her hunched over Shelly’s things, holding tight to one of her dresses, smiling softly, weeping. When he sat beside her, even though he didn’t ask, she told stories of when she was a child, murmuring old proverbs about how mothers shouldn’t have to bury their daughters.

So, no. They weren’t going to stop her.

And as she sat telling him stories, she had had the audacity to pause, look up, and ask, “Xerkkun, how are you faring?”

He smiled and said, “Don’t worry about me, Sheryl-sama.” in the most nonchalant voice he could manage.

Even though they both knew she had more than one reason to worry.

On a normal day, she would have pressed him on the matter. That day, she nodded, and looked away. They both knew talking about it would only be the hammer that smashed their fragile forms into bits.

How was that ‘nice’?

…Then again, of course it was nice; Reim had insisted on organizing it, he and Rufus shouldering as many of Sheryl’s burdens as they could, (though she still insisted on carrying more than her fair share). Rufus could be heard barking about how the roses were supposed to be red, and how the table was supposed to go over there, and the banners were all misaligned…

Break would never admit it, but he was grateful.

Then again, of course it was nice: the speeches everyone gave were full of the prettiest words.

The officiant said some generic adage about the Abyss one always hears at these things, and how she would be back to this world before long, which made everyone put their hand over their heart, and their kerchief at their eyes.

Sheryl told stories about when Shelly was a child, and liked to steal her shoes, and when she was an adult and liked to steal her duties, interrupted by those proverbs she iterated earlier, until Rufus had to take her, sobbing, off the stage.

Even Rufus, with his flowery, old words made a speech that was nice enough. Break had rolled his eyes about his turns of phrase, and profuse tears, but…even then.

It was nice.

Sharon told them all she wanted to say something, and they feared she wouldn’t get beyond the first sentence. They feared this was too much weight to put on a little girl who had lost her mother, even if she willingly took the weight on herself. But she stood tall at that podium, and voiced her speech and her stories with pride and eyes that shone with both joy and sorrow, and the crowd breathed a sigh, knowing she was far braver than they realized.

She’d make a wonderful duchess some day.

And yes, Break couldn’t deny, that was altogether nice.

They even asked Break if he wanted to say something. And maybe he did—he wouldn’t start sobbing halfway through—but…somehow he knew, if he started speaking about the woman who saved his life in more ways than one, then the words just might gush out of him until he was yelling, and cursing, and laughing like a madman. So he said something about how it would be ridiculous for a servant to speak at a noblewoman’s funeral, and bit his tongue.

He laughed to keep from crying, and he was sure they thought he was crazy. And maybe he was. He had never been someone particularly likable at first glance, and had heard gossip for a long time—about red eyes, bloodstained pasts, and underseved blessings—and wasn’t about to start caring what the world thought now.

He didn’t cry. No one would fault him if he did—it was a funeral after all. Still, he didn’t intend to.

Maybe that made him strong. And maybe that made him afraid.

Afraid he’d live up to his name.

Maybe it was something about caring. Crying meant showing he cared, cared a lot, cared too much. And caring meant losing. And crying meant a little girl and coffins and snow and “Don’t leave me!” and “Do you want to change the past?”  and “They were the most important people to you, and you couldn’t save them.”

And that wasn’t very nice to think about.

He always carried candy in his pockets, and the funeral was no exception. Some people probably thought he was insensitive, but it was all he could do to keep from biting his tongue until blood was all he could taste.

They were all fakes anyway. He didn’t want to waste his words or his tears on them.

Maybe the ‘niceness’ of a funeral is measured in how much sobbing one can hear. True, there was rather a lot of it. Even if they didn’t know her, and were only crying on general principle, rather than any specific memories, and later they would go about their days with dry eyes, and forget the nice funeral, and the nice woman.

Did that still count as nice?

The Nightrays were there; Gilbert had said he was sorry (sounding as if he thought it was his fault) and he meant it. Vincent, toeing the ground and playing with his hair, said it was all very sad, and hadn’t meant even that. (And Break would have done something violent and stupid if it wouldn’t have caused a scene). The other Nightray siblings bowed, and respectfully offered his condolences. The Vessalius’s were there too, or at least what was left of them. Oscar had tried to make them all feel better with words of encouragement, and beverages to cleanse the soul, and Ada had bawled, even though they never met.

Sure. Maybe that was nice.

Shelly was a ‘Kind girl.’ A ‘Strong woman.’ A ‘Wonderful duchess.’

Maybe that’s why they thought it was nice; they all had very fond memories of the woman who was nice.

They didn’t even know the half of it. The sunlight, the, smiles, the salvation.

He opened the box, and she was waiting for him there at the bottom.

What happens when she fades into he wind too, like all the shadows?

Despite the strength in her speech, Sharon had wept silently into his coat. He ran his hands through her hair softly, all the while praying this nice funeral would end soon.

And even then, even when she had been crying so much, for so long, even then she had the strength to stand up straight, to give sorrowful smiles, and bittersweet words to all the porcelain nobles who told her how sorry they were, what a shame, and what a nice funeral it was, and if she needed anything, don’t hesitate to send for them.

Well, she definitely had her mother in her.

Three queens on the chess board. How did he end up with them?

They all offered their condolences. With fake words, and fake sympathy, and fake offers to help.

They didn’t really know her.

As the funeral ended, Reim asked Break if he wanted a drink. It was appealing to have a quiet drink with a friend, who knew Shelly, and knew him, and wouldn’t fill the air with empty platitudes. But, if there were ever a day he wished he could drink to forget, it was today. So he laughed and said he was thinking of staying and talking to her for a while. But he knew his laugh didn’t sound quite right.

Reim nodded, patted him on the shoulder, and walked away.

Break decided to stay. To stay, and talk, alone (at last, alone,) to her grave. His words weren’t for the masses…but he’d spare a few for a stone.

When he finally stood alone memories—the good, the bad, and the beautiful—came like a flood, and he found himself at a loss for what to say. All the ‘Thank you’ and ‘I’ll miss you’s seemed worthless in the face of a name and a date on a headstone. The end of a life.

Is that all a life is? Some wordy flowers, some flowery words, a tear or two, a date on a headstone, and a nice funeral?

The last time he stood at a headstone everything was wrong with the world. Grief wasn’t a heavy, sad thing. It was a writhing, hot, angry thing. It came with a desire for vengeance, not against those who took them, but against time. And maybe, today, after the forward march, time was still unjust tyrant, and still needed a sword run through him. Or maybe Shelly lived the best life she could, and she wouldn’t want him to to be mad—in emotion or in mind .Would rather he hold flowers than a blade.

He still had the sword beside him. Just in case time came knocking.

And standing here, trying to think of what to say, and how to say it, his eyes stung with water. He sat there silently thinking until the silence filled up his lungs.

Today, grief was a heavy, sad thing.

And in this moment, alone, at the grave

Reality broke.

It cracked, and the pieces fell. Were stolen away. Something bore into it, and two red eyes shone through the hole.

“Do you want to change the past?” Asked the shadows in a deep, discordant voice.

And Break paused, eye widening, the red shimmering, swimming in itself.

See? Crying meant the Abyss.

Then…a smile crept onto his face. A spreading, stretching, stained, disdainful thing.

“Where might you be from?” He asked in the most nonchalant voice he could manage.

“I’ve come from the Abyss to help you. I can change your past, if you let me.”

Break looked down, still smiling, scoffing. “That would be a lovely thing, wouldn’t it?” He chuckled. “Make it so she didn’t have to die. Not that day at least.”

The hole grew bigger, pieces of reality falling off.

“Maybe,” Break continued, looking at the ground, “there’s another strand of time in which everything's alright."

“Yes, yes, exactly! I think we can help each other!”

A hand reached out of the hole. Cotton and lies.

“Maybe.”

Crying meant the Abyss.

And caring meant “Promise me you will keep living your life with everything you have until the very end.”

His staff clicked.

“Or maybe you're ruining a perfectly nice funeral." He chuckled. "You should find a better source of sustenance than human souls."

When he turned around to head back inside, reality refused, and only ash remained.

[redlineoffate]

@kitxkatrp said: ⭐

Pandora Heart muses

Oz, Echo, Glen, Vincent, Ada, Break @ Alice

Oz, Echo, Vincent, Rufus, Ada @ Break

Oz, Lacie, Oswald, Vincent @ Jack

Vincent, Ada, Oz, Echo, Break, Oswald @ Gilbert

Ada, Echo, Break, Lacie @ Oz

Oz, Vincent, Break @ Rufus

Rufus @ Sheryl

Vincent, Oz, Lacie, Oswald @ Core of the Abyss

Oz, Ada, Break, Oswald, Break @ Vincent

Oz, Lacie, Vincent @ Will of the Abyss/Alyss

Vincent, Echo @ Bernice Nightray

Break @ Shelly Rainsworth

Oz, Vincent @ Echo

Lacie, Oswald, Vincent, Echo @ Fang

Oz, Break, Ada @ Liam

Oswald, Oz @ Lacie

Vincent, Echo @ Lily

Oz, Vincent, Echo, Break @ Ada

Vincent, Break @ Cheshire Cat

Oz, Vincent, Break. Ada, Vincent, Echo @ Charlotte Baskerville

Lacie, Vincent, Echo @ Oswald

Vincent @ Miranda Barma

Oz, Break, Ada, Echo @ Sharon Rainsworth

Vincent @ Vanessa

Oz, Ada @ Zai

Break @ Kevin

Oz, Ada, Vincent, Echo @ Elliot

Vincent @ Bernard

Lacie, Oswald, Vincent @ Arthur

Vincent @ Claude Nightray, Ernest Nightray

Vincent, Break, Echo @ Doug Baskerville

Lacie, Oswald, Echo @ Levi

Oz, Ada, Vincent, Echo @ Leo

Oz, Ada @ Oscar

Bleach

Urahara @ Ulquiorra

Urahara @ Irihime

OHS

Haruhi @ Kaoru

Akatsuki no Yona

Yona, Hak, Zeno, Yoon @ Soo-Won

Shin Ah, Zeno, Ao, Yona, Hak, Yoon @ Jae-Ha

Yona, Zeno, Yoon, Shin ah, Ao @ Hak

Zeno, Shin Ah, Yona, Hak, Ao @ Kija

Ao, Yona, Zeno @ Shin Ah

Ao @ Garou

Yona, Shin Ah, Ao @ Zeno

Naruto

Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, Hinata, Karin @ Sakura

Sakura, Lee, Sasuke @ Ino

Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Tsunade @ Himawari

Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Lee @ Hinata

Karin, Sasuke, Tsunade, Kakashi, Itachi, Toffee (OC) @ Orochimaru

Tsunade, Itachi, Sasuke @ Madara

Itachi, Sasuke @ Shisui

Sasuke, Orochimaru, Tsunade @ Itachi

Naruto, Sakura, Hinata, Karin, Orochimaru @ Sasuke

Kushina, Naruto @ Minato

Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, Hinata, Kushina @ Menma

Kurama, Kushina, Sakura, Sasuke, Hinata @ Naruto

Naruto @ Gaara

Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke @ Sai

Rin, Team 7, Tsunade, Orochimaru @ Kakashi

Natsume Yuujinchou

Takashi, Madara, Reiko @ Tanuma

Takashi, Madara, Reiko @ Gen

FMA

Maes Hughes, Roy, Riza, Elrics, Envy @ Greed

Elrics, Roy, Riza @ Ling

Tokyo Ghoul

Sasaki, Kimi, Eto, Saiko, Nishiki, Furuta @ Hide

[kitxkatrp]

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Vanitas x Noe (Vanitas no Carte), Xerxes/Shelly (Pandora Hearts -- always obsessed with this one), Ryou x Ichigo (Tokyo Mew Mew), Oda x Dazai (Bungou Stray Dogs -- also always obsessed), Kotetsu x Barnaby (Tiger and Bunny), basically any PH pairing tbh with very few exceptions....

[lilium-dragomir]

[schleckermaul]

b-rabbit has always eluded break in one way or the other. it was tricky, wasn't it? to feel its presence within oz and alice alike, naturally, contractor and chain. that it was so much more complicated than that, not even break could predict.

   except for that pit in the bottom of his stomach, walking through the halls of pandora. the small bit of paranoia nagging him, his head aching with it. so much had happened after that, all at once, and break still begrudges that he didn't figure it all out sooner. miscalculations, trust where it shouldn't have been put.

   (though rufus barma mostly made up for his betrayal, break would still not say no to getting to rough him up a bit.)

   his arrival here was a full stop to the story back home. glen has told him he would be dead once more, if he ever returned. gilbert is busy with his bakery, and waiting for—

   waiting for—

   maybe, break thinks, part of why the rabbit eluded the hatter for so long is that they were born for the same reason. existing to destroy, the power to tear apart the very seams of the paper. maybe, break thinks, he was bound to entrust his task to oz and the others. to kill the intention. to fulfill his purpose. the reason why mad hatter exists. the reason why the black rabbit exists.

   (so, what to do in a world that doesn't need either?)

   somebody knocks at the door. mad hatter is lingering in the background, insistent. break only hears it because he's in the kitchen, heating up some of his morning tea. with zhilan at work, he doesn't have much to do other than taking care of the mansion and perhaps some knitting in the gardens. he tries to ignore the chain.

   it only mostly works. the stove being one he's familiar with, break is able to put the tea kettle on it a second time and leave for what he assumes to be a very short moment, depending on who it is. maybe ismael ... coming over for a chat, taking care of the flowers they're slowly putting up for lady shelly's memorial outside. he should check the greenhouse, as well, before his heart returns for the day.

   wrapping zhilan's red cloak around himself, break wanders to the front door with a cup of tea in his hand that's lukewarm. as soon as he opens the door, mad hatter's insistence turns into anger.

   he drops his cup— he holds his head. the chain starts chanting in his mind, and it takes break a second to get it under control again, head raising as if his gaze could reveal more about who the person at the door is. at this point, there's not many options, eh?

   ' miss ... no. ' he stops. reconsiders. narrows his gaze. ' oz? '

THREAD 01 || @schleckermaul

Oz does not stay in the residence that the strangers just... left him at. There wasn't anything for him there. And there wasn't anything implying he was trapped there. Which is good. A gilded cage is, at the end of the day, still a cage. There was the strange device now in his hands to focus on. It's so... Sleek. Shiny. He has absolutely no idea what it is. But it doesn't seem dangerous to mess around with, at least. Small mercies.

After some fiddling around, he manages to pull up some sort of image — he stares at it for a long moment, unblinking, before it clicks. A map. The device came with a map of the strange new area he's found himself in. Current location: Fibonacci Ward. He skims through each of the districts in a counter-clockwise order as he walks aimlessly around.

There. In the district to the east of his current location. He knows this place. He remembers the courtyard — how painfully beautiful it was in that dream the Core showed him. The last time he ever saw it. Rainsworth Manor... What was it doing here? How?

His feet begin taking him in that direction before he could convince himself that it's probably some sort of trap. What's the worst that could happen, anyways? He's already dead. Maybe this is another dream. Certainly a weird one, if so. He walks for hours, almost in a daze, dazzled by the glamor of the city around him so unlike anything he's seen the last time he was in a big city. Perhaps he could've found some mode of transportation, but...

It felt best this way, in order to take in all the new strange and wonderful and horrible sights.

Eventually, he makes his way to the front door step. Marches right up there and raps his knuckles rhythmically against the door without missing a single beat. Three times. He hums to himself as he waits, taking a step back to peer around curiously.

It really does look like how he remembers it.