#Sheryl Rainsworth

[redcrws]

PANDORA HEARTS: the tarot deck [20/22]

RUFUS BARMA AND SHERYL RAINSWORTH;

x. wheel of fortune: chance, decisive moments // set backs, disorder

iii. the empress: beauty, harmony // negligence, lack of confidence

[fivekrystalpetals]

found this template here and decided I had to do one for PH girls 😎

ID under the cut: (kinda if you can’t see who is what)

Alyss/Intention of the Abyss - Girlwar criminal

Lottie- Girlwar criminal + Girl boss

Sheryl - Girlboss

Sharon - Girlboss + Girl Employee + Woman

Alice - Girl boss + Girl Employee

Lacie- Woman + Sad Girl

Noise- Sad Girl + Failwoman

Ada- Failwoman

Echo - Failwoman + Pathetic wet cat

Lily- Pathetic wet cat

[variouspolltournaments]

Propaganda

Sheryl Rainsworth: She is 70 years old, a duchess, and her favorite hobby is beating up the man who’s been in love with her since they were teenagers with her paper fan whenever he says anything rude

Maria Posada: No Propaganda Submitted

[lilium-dragomir]

[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.

[retracexcviii]

Rufus Barma

Hi there, I bring you the latest edit from the polls (poor Barma, no one voted for him).

This image is from an event in Japan at the end of Pandora Hearts where Jun drew 30 shikis like this one.

.

.

.

I already have the photos selected but also, I know I said I would be back with the polls by next week, but I lied. More like I changed my mind but still, the polls wont be back until half of April (I will start in Twitter, so you will see the polls here next week).

[ozlices]

Omg I followed for Pandora Hearts but I didn't know you were also physically disabled, I love you, I am too

awe ily2 💙 lovely taste, darling 💙

disabled fans of ph are the best actually 💙

[kitxkatrp]

Muse BIO: Sheryl Rainsworth

BIO can be found here. Sheryl Rainsworth, the head of the Rainsworth Dukedom, is a powerful figure who many fear. Despite being paralyzed from the waist down, she always manages to get around in her wheelchair. She is someone many respect and look up to.

[mushroompollution]

Character Glossary: the Four Dukedoms

Nightray Family

( siblings from youngest to oldest)

Elliot: he's the baby of the family and he's so bitter about it!! he might seem like a hotheaded jerk, but he's really a big, shy softy. somehow a jock and a nerd, scientists can't explain it!

Leo: Elliot's valet! that's me! (ᅌ▿ᅌ✿)

Vanessa: Elliot's only sister, and currently the family heir. she can be so uptight it's unnerving, but Elliot looks up to her a lot.

Vincent (adopted): weird vibes, avoid as much as possible. his hobby is cutting up stuffed animals and curtains. maids hate him!

Echo: Vincent's valet. she's shy and quiet and doesn't deserve that guy at all.

Gilbert (adopted): Vincent's actual older brother. he's a nice guy, but kind of gloomy. he left the family house to join Pandora, and Elliot hasn't quite forgiven him for it yet.

Hans: Vanessa's valet. he's almost as strict as her! kind of scary, but not mean.

Ernest (deceased): ... he and Elliot were pretty close. he always seemed pretty nice, but he wore fake smiles a lot. he was really adamant about Elliot finding a decent valet, so I guess I should have thanked him when I had a chance.

Claude (deceased): he and Elliot were also pretty close. it was his idea to take Elliot to Fianna's for the first time, so... I guess I owed him some thanks too.

Fred (deceased): I really didn't know this guy, he died not too long after I moved into the house. but he was a lot older than Elliot, and I don't think they were very close at all.

Bernice: Elliot's mom. he loves her a lot and writes a special piano piece for her every year for her birthday. but losing so many of her sons took a really bad toll on her health, and she's been on and off bed rest for the last couple years.

Raymond (deceased): Elliot's uncle. I only met him a few times. wasn't nice.

Bernard: Elliot's father and one of the four Dukes who run the country.

Vessalius Family

because of some tensions several generations back, the Nightray and Vessalius houses have been at odds for as long as anyone can remember. the story goes that the Nightrays were framed for committing treason against the country during the great war, or something like that, and the family's reputation still suffers because of it. I think it's silly to hold a grudge for hundreds of years, but Elliot takes it to heart.

Ada: upperclassman and RA at our university. she's a sweet girl, if a bit too naive for her own good. unfortunately, Elliot hates her just because of her family name, and he isn't afraid to make it known. I can usually reign him in, but he gets extra barky around her!

Oz (deceased?): I don't really know much about it, but I guess he was either assassinated or dragged into Abyss 10 years ago? depends who you ask!

Oscar: Ada's uncle, younger brother of the Duke

Zai: Duke of the Vessalius family

Jack: legend has is that he was a great hero who stopped the Tragedy of Sablier from consuming the entire world 100 years ago! Elliot says that's some bullshit.

Rainsworth Family

Sharon: heiress to the family

Sheryl: Duchess of the Rainsworth family, Sharon's grandmother

Barma Family

Rufus: Duke of the Barma family

Baskerville

though they were never held any specific title, the Baskerville clan was a cult that held equal power with the four Dukedoms. after the Tragedy of Sablier, their assets were divided between the remaining four families. legends say the ghosts of their founding members walk the earth to this day, dragging people into Abyss to fulfill the wish of their master, Glen~

[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.

[variouspolltournaments]

Propaganda

Sheryl Rainsworth: She is 70 years old, a duchess, and her favorite hobby is beating up the man who’s been in love with her since they were teenagers with her paper fan whenever he says anything rude

Boss: He's a father figure, he's keeping a horrible secret from everyone, he helps people become a better person, he's dead, he's protective of his friends, he and all his friends die in the end, he's just the guy ever

[lilium-dragomir]

[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.

[rotfallen]

my sharon is 16/26 instead of 13/23 because it feels unfair to me that she's so young physically to the point of not being able to debut in society like. WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO MY GIRL?

the point i'm trying to make is that in my eyes she doesn't debut by choice, plus she's so busy with pandora that she doesn't really have the time to debut in society, let alone become the next head of the rainsworth dukedom.

does she feel bad that her grandmother is kind of stuck there? definitely. but she also has confidence that sheryl can manage, and if she ever needs help, sharon will do her best!

[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

[pandoraheartsposter]

Ph characters as flowers