Welcome to Pandora Hearts month: The annual event that celebrates Pandora Hearts and some of its main trios! Each week for a month is dedicated to a different trio, with each day being a different one-word prompt for artists, editors, writers, etc. Current event: Phmonth21 (Feb 28th-April 3rd) Icon image by @aishiriadanielle!! Banner image by @maja-cherub!!
Itâs a new day, and contributor apps for đĄđŽđžđˇđ˛đ¸đˇ: đ đđđ§đđ¨đŤđ đđđđŤđđŹ đđ§đ§đ˘đŻđđŤđŹđđŤđ˛ đđ˘đ§đ close in 3 weeks!!
So while the tea is hot and the scones are fresh, make sure to apply by April the 4th. Weâll be waiting for you!
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Happy belated Pandora Hearts Secret Santa, @daisyachain!
I saw the Elleo prompts and went to look at references for the Nightray mansion, and then I saw this chair and KNEW I had to do something with it. đ
Thanks to @i-prefer-the-term-antihero for hosting!
Happy new year, @exile-on-uwustreet ! I was your backup secret santa for @phmonth , sorry it took so long!
I took your prompts 'last winter' and 'candle' and ran with them to make it into Shelly and Break. I hope you like it and had wonderful holidays!
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Gift for @animes-trash for PH secret santa from @phmonth and @i-prefer-the-term-antihero!!!!
I hope this year will be YOUR year!
I used prompts Secret relationship and Break being a big bro) (sorry for being late, I wanted this art to be as good as it possible) I hope this art will bring you a smile
Have a great 2026!!!!
A woman now called a witch, who always searched for love
Can we really blame her for that?
Where did this original sin begin?
In the face of a trial with no clear answer
Can these lives ever overcome it?
Lyrics: KARMA by VIVINOS, English lyrics from the Wiki
I finally have the third set for the third karma monologue and my fourth chapter of this batch from An Absurd Fairy Tale! This is a late submission for PH month 2025 Friday, Nov. 28: Winter.
I'm excited because this set of lyrics/panels are especially relevant for both the original and the fic, imo, as well as looking forward to PH month 2026's last batch of chapters for An Absurd Fairy Tale.
Thank you again @i-prefer-the-term-antihero @phmonth for putting PH month together! <3
My gift for @owlarick as part of the PH secret santa 2025 by @phmonth !
Happy new year I hope you had a great start to 2026 !
I'm so sorry for being this late, i should manage my time better đ
Here is the lovely Echo, hope you like it c:
Thank you again @i-prefer-the-term-antihero for organizing this every year!
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for @oze250 as part of the pandora hearts secret santa hosted by @i-prefer-the-term-antihero/@phmonth!! went with their prompts forced proximity and snow for this super short comic (: happy holidays!!
For: @sunsetsmakemesad for the Pandora Hearts Secret Santa Gift Exchange hosted by @phmonth
Prompts: Platonic and/or familial, lacie, vincent, alice (both), character studies, h/c, exploring relationships between characters, snow, red, lonely, mother, wintery
A/N: I had the hardest time writing this because I misread Vincent as Oswald (sorry, this would be my list of characters if I swapped them) and was torn between âhappy auâ and âlets go angsty as usual with themâ....and then realized, whoops, Vincent. XD Iâve always wanted to write an epilogue for him, Leo, and Gil, because we didnât really get to see that in the storyâŚnot entirely sure how this came out, but I hope you like it despite how self-indulgent this became! I know this didnât have enough Gil praising from the worldâs number 1 brocon Vincent, but he deserved to get pampered and loved instead. XD
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Ada Vessalius died on a cold winter day. No, not Vessalius, she hadnât used that last name in a long time, yet when Vincent thought of her, that was the name that came to his lips. Even now, he could still see her as that young woman, her hand trembling as she reached out for him, her quiet voice full of stubborn steel.
She was a woman that made him think of sunshine, of the promise of spring and the warmth of summer.
A cold winter day like this didnât suit her at all.
-x-Â
The Baskerville mansion of today was a far cry from what it used to be. Of course it was; even if the Rainsworths and Barmas had helped set up a new domain so they could train and mentor the next generation of Baskervilles, it still took time to find their people.Â
And Leo, who still called himself Leo despite becoming Glen, who still retained all that he was, was still more comfortable in a minimalist setting than he was in a luxurious mansion.
Vincent didnât mind. He was comfortable enough and more importantly, both Gil and Leo were content. The gloom of Leoâs office suited him better than a bright, gilded home anyways. Though, there was now a bright lamp on Leoâs desk, a new addition that Vincent couldnât help but stare at while his brother and master discussed the matters for the next few weeks.
âVincent.âÂ
Hearing his name, he refocused on Leo. To his surprise, Gil had already left, leaving just the two of them here. He smiled benignly. âYes?â
Seated at his desk, Leo regarded Vincent with dark eyes. His expression was unreadable as he asked, âYouâll attend her funeral with Gil?â
Adaâs funeral. Somehow hearing that made the whole thing all too real. Vincent swallowed. âIâŚIâm not sure.â
Leoâs expression softened and he stood up. Coming over, he gently took Vincentâs hand in his own and squeezed it. âYouâve avoided her enough as it was.â
âThat was needed,â Vincent claimed, but his words sounded flat to his own ears.
âI doubt it. Still, at least in these final moments, you should say goodbye.â Leoâs expression turned distant as he let go, and Vincent wondered if he was thinking of Elliot, of the goodbye they never got. Of the body they never buried. It seemed the Baskervilles were doomed to tragic loves. Even Gil, for all his optimism about meeting Alice and Oz again, wasnât exempt from it. âYou donât want to regret this.â
No, he didnât. Heâd had enough to regret over the span of two lifetimes. Closing his eyes, he sighed and nodded. âThen Iâll take my leave.â
âGood.â Leo smiled wanly before returning to his seat. His fingers skimmed his desk. âItâll be quiet here.â
âItâs been like that for a while now,â Vincent pointed out.
âTrue.â Leo gave a complicated expression. While they had lived a long time, slowly, one by one, the previous Baskervilles had finally succumbed and died, their bodies spent. Though Vincent hadnât expected it, he had mourned them, felt their losses. These people who had once been pawns had somehow become something more.
And though they had a handful of new Baskervilles to take their place, they were still awkward and figuring out their places. Still, there had been one noticeable absence from the group and Vincent studied Leo. âHave you foundâŚâ
âThe next Glen?â Leo finished for him as he smiled bitterly. Though he never talked about it, Vincent knew he still heard the other Glens in his head, their advice carrying him as he rediscovered their familyâs old techniques and methods. Oswald might be goneâand in that, Vincent didnât know how to feel, something bitter coiled up in his chest but also something warmâbut that didnât mean the others werenât able to speak.
Though, he privately hoped that Levi had disappeared entirely.
Leo picked up his paperweight, a small rock shaped like the jabberwocky. âIâm not sure if I want to wish this fate onto another.â
âItâs fine if you donât,â Vincent consoled him. âWe can find other ways.â
âWe could butâŚit wasnât as though I took the old rituals either.â Leo shrugged, setting down the rock. âThere will be someone out there, hearing voices like I did, seeing things and unable to explain it. AndâŚwithout another Glen, even with your successor, we might lose our connection with the Intention and the ability to keep the Abyss in check.â Leo sighed, his expression dejected. âThen what was the point of it?â
Vincent fell silent, unable to refute the point.
âItâs fine.â Leo rubbed his forehead. âIâll start the search soon butâŚjust need a little more time.â He gave a wry smile as he asked dryly, âWhat, you donât like being my right hand man?â
âI wouldnât give this up for anything,â Vincent answered honestly, his eyes locking in on his masterâs. If there was one reason he was able to live as long as he had, to be able to breathe as easily as he had, it was because Leo had wanted him. Not need, but want. Not as Baskerville, but as Vincent.
Not as a master, but as a friend.
Leoâs eyes widened a fraction before he smiled back. âMe neither.â
They were like mirrors, too alike in all the wrong ways. But lately, Leo had kept a lamp on in his office and Vincent found he looked at his red eye in his reflection without flinching and maybe they were changing for the better.
-x-
His brotherâs eyes were swollen and red, Vincent noted as they sat down in the train side by side. Gil pressed close, as though he needed anotherâs warmth, as though he needed the comfort. He probably did. Despite the many losses they had experienced over the decades, each one struck his heart like a fresh wound.
The last funeral he had attended had been Sharonâs and while he hadnât openly wept in front of Vincent then either, his eyes had been full of unshed tears. Perhaps that was what age had given him: not the ability to harden his heart, but to strength to keep himself composed.
âAre you okay, Vince?â Gil asked, his voice rough. Had he slept? His skin was pale.
âBetter than you,â Vincent replied automatically, but he wasnât sure if that was true. It had been a lifetime since he had bid farewell to Ada. While in the ensuing years, he had sometimes watched her from a careful distance, their time apart hadnât eased his feelings at all. His heart still ached at the thought of her. At the memory of her hands on his, her trembling lips on his forehead.
âI-I still remember when s-she had first learned to walk,â Gil stuttered, his body trembling like a leaf. âShe kept following Oz like a little duck and repeated everything he said. Even the pranks. Especially the pranks.â He chuckled weakly as he hunched his back and curled his hands into his thighs. âAnd nowâŚnow sheâs gone. She was family and now sheâs gone.â
Vincentâs heart ached again, but for a different reason. Even as Gilâs voice cracked, even as his body shook, he didnât shed a single tear.
âYou can cry, you know.â
For a second, Vincent thought heâd said it aloud, but he looked up to find Gil giving him the most watery smile.Â
Oh. Had it been that obvious? He wasnât sure what expression he was making right now. What expression he should be making. Looking away, he softly retorted, âI could say the same to you.â
There was a soft hitch in his breath and he wondered if Gil would. Yet, when he looked up, Gil was wiping his eyes, his jaw clenched. âNo, Iâm your big brother. You cry to me, not the other way around.â
âEven though youâre the one who always cries?â Vincent mumbled, but Gil just wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, pressing his head to his chest. Enveloped in that familiar warmth, in that comforting scent, it was all Vincent could do to keep from crying. He closed his eyes. While he was used to the open display of affections now, the daily affirmations that his brother did love him, would always love him, it still made him breathless each time.
His life had worth.Â
His life always had worth.
âYou should have married her,â Gil muttered into Vincentâs hair. His breath tickled his ear.
Vincent scoffed, remembering Gilâs shock long ago at the discovery of their relationship. âI didnât think Iâd hear that from you. You didnât say anything even when I watched her.â
âLike a stalker.â Gil squeezed him, a little angrily. âYou could have done it openly.â
âYou know why,â he rebuked.
âI donât.â Gil sighed. âI always thought it would have been better if you justâŚstayed. With her. You could have been happy.â
At that, Vincent frowned. He pulled back slightly and looked up at his brother. âIâm happy with you.â
âMe too.â And Gil gave a watery smile. âStill. You could have been happier.â
âI couldnât subject her to us,â he argued, his hands digging into Gilâs chest. âTo what it meant to be a Baskerville.â
âShe would have been fine,â and Gilâs tone brokered no argument as he saw right through Vincentâs excuses. âSheâsâShe was stronger than you know.â
As Gilâs voice cracked at the was, Vincentâs shoulders slumped. What was the point in denying it now, when it was too late? âYouâre right. IâmâŚIâm the weak one. I would have given up everything if she had asked.â
âIt would have been fine if you did.â Gil hugged him tighter, pushing him back into his chest. âNot that she would have asked. She was smarter than that.â
Maybe it would have been fine if he had left the Baskervilles. Or if he had kept a life outside of it. Vincent closed his eyes. There was no point in thinking of what-ifs, though. That was a hard lesson he had learned through blood and death. Even if he could have been happy with her, he had also been happy here. With Gil. With Leo. With the children he now mentored and the Abyss he spoke to.Â
âI really am happy here, with you.â He buried his face in Gilâs chest. âYou know that, right?â
âMe too. The happiest.â Gil sighed. â You know, Ada once told me it was too bad.â
Feeling his arms loosen, Vincent pulled away and straightened. âWhat was?â
âThat weâd never all exist at the same time again,â Gil explained, counting off with his fingers. âSheâs leaving now and wonât be back for a hundred years. In fifty years, Oz will be back. And IâŚâ Gilâs breath hitched but he pushed on. âI will leave shortly after that. Heâll never be her big brother again. Who knows if weâll ever cross paths again, even if we remembered a hundred years from now.â
It was a sobering thought. While Vincent still had many years ahead of him, he could feel the age creeping into his body, entwining his limbs like a vine. When he passed, when he returned from the cycle, maybe he would see Ada again. An older Ada. An Ada out of reach. If he remembered. If their paths crossed.
âItâs a small chance,â Vincent muttered, leaning against the window.
âYeah.â Gilâs expression darkened. âAt least we thatâŚif Oswald had a second chanceâŚâ
His voice trailed off but Vincent knew what he was thinking of. It was hard, sometimes, to remember their former master for who he had been before the tragedy had warped and ate at him. Before his body had been dismembered, before the grief and rage had consumed him. There had been a man, once, who had picked Vincent and Gil up when they fell asleep and tucked them into their beds even if had always favoured his brother over him.
It was easier with Jack. For all that he had wrought, for the ruin he had created, he had still been the first warm hand that hadnât been Gilâs. The only one who had looked him in the eyes with joy, even if it had been faked.
It was a bittersweet fondness. Neither men, for all their flaws, for all their worth, would ever return to the cycle.
âBut, you know,â Gil continued once he found his voice again. âAda then said thatâs how it was for most people.â
Vincent tore his eyes away from the scenery outside, the endless white plains, and raised a brow.
âThey arenât aware of the cycle, let alone how it works. Even we donât usually carry our memories into our next cycle,â Gil explained softly. âThere arenât actually any second chances, either for them or for us. Weâre not the same person.â
His words echoed in Vincentâs mind, bringing back an old memory. That wouldnât be me, the Gil you loved. That would be someone else!
As though remembering the same fight, the same argument, Gil leaned forward and ruffled Vincentâs hair.
âShe was glad she got to know everyone now. This time. This version of us. In this life, not another,â Gil finished, taking Vincentâs hand in his own. âShe said, she was glad to have met you.â
Even in death, it seemed she still had a lot to say to him. Not sure of what to say, Vincent leaned on Gilâs shoulder and closed his eyes.
-x-
It was only when Gil fell asleep that Vincent stood up. Reaching into the bags theyâd stowed overhead, Vincent carefully pulled out a small, velvet pouch. For a moment, he stared at it, taking a deep breath.Â
Returning to his seat, he pulled out a folded ribbon. While its colour had faded over time, it was still obviously red.Â
To match your eyes. Ada had blushed when sheâd given it to him and heâd thought at the time, it matched her skin far better.
Over the years, he had wavered between tossing it and keeping it. Now he was glad he did. Gathering his hair, he tied the ribbon around the end. When he looked in the window, he could almost see Adaâs reflection next to his, her eyes adoring as she approved.
-x-
The funeral was a plain one. One that didnât feel right for a member of the former dukedom of Vessalius. One that didnât feel right for a woman as lively and beloved as Ada. Yet, despite that, it was neither small nor quiet. As expected of her, the church overflowed with people from a variety of walks of life. Her friends from her former social circles as nobility. Her neighbours from her current, more humble life. By her casket, her children and grandchildren sobbed openly.
Just like the woman who had wept shamelessly for him.
Oz would have outlived her, had he lived. But he was gone, he had never existed, and his body was missing from the family tomb.Â
Vincent hung back awkwardly throughout the ceremony. Unlike everyone else here, he had no obvious connection to her. Even Gil, who had visited her often enough, who was well known by the family, still got confused looks as he finally gave in and burst into tears.Â
âShe was like my little sister,â he wailed despite appearing as old as her oldest grandchild.
Yet, despite how much closer he could have sat to the family, he instead stayed and held Vincentâs hand tightly throughout the whole affair like a lifeline. For whom, Vincent couldnât say, but he clung back to him just as tightly.
When he finally approached the open casket, it didnât take him long to recognize her. Yes, her body was so old, so frail, the colour faded from her hair and skin. Yet, he could still see the traces of her smile in her laugh lines and her joy in her wrinkles. Even in death, she looked happy.
Long after her coffin was taken into the family crypt, he and Gil stood outside of it. The wellwishers trickled away, the family left, and still they stood. It felt like the end of an era.
Part of him wanted to collapse right there.
âExcuse me, are you Vincent?â
At the unfamiliar voice, he turned to find a middle-aged man looking at them awkwardly. Gil shifted to stand in front of him protectively.Â
âYes?â
âOh, thatâs a relief.â The man mopped his balding forehead with a handkerchief. Noticing their defensiveness, he gave a weak smile. âSorry, I should introduce myself first. Iâm AdaâsâI was her lawyer.â He smiled bitterly. âShe lived a good, long life, but even thenâŚit still feels like it was too soon, you know?â
Vincent didnâtâcouldnât say anything.
Gil bit his cheek as he nodded. âYeah.â
They stood there awkwardly before the man pulled out a small envelope. âAnyways, she told me to deliver this letter to a blonde man with a red eye when he attended her funeral.â
Vincent felt winded, the breath knocked out of him. So, she really had known all these years. Had noted his absence. Maybe she had even seen him from a distance. And despite the time that had passed, she had even known he would come for a final farewell.
With shaky hands, Vincent took the envelope.
âIâll be off now,â the lawyer said, tipping his hat, but Vincent wasnât listening to him anymore, his eyes locked onto the Dearest Vincent on the envelope. He didnât even register when Gil stepped away to give him space, his attention focused on carefully extracting the letter.
Dearest Vincent,
It has been a long time since I said that, but youâll allow me to say that now, right? I think I have the right. Iâm glad you came to visit me, though I wish you had done it when I could see you too.
Tears dripped down his cheeks as he read and he tried not to wrinkle the paper as grief welled within him, a crescendo. It wasnât a love letter but it was a letter of love. He could still see her standing in front of him in the ruins of Sablier, both when he was a child as she told him to find her, and as an adult, ordering him to give his life to her.
And he could see her in front of him now, as she was, as she would always be in his heart, as she gave his heart back to him.
Are you less lonely now?
Are you happy?
His heart clenched. Vincent lifted his head, and there was Gil, unable to hide his sobbing as he watched Vincent. Even from this distance, he could feel the pull to Leo. His room in the manor was slowly getting filled with more and more remembrances and while he couldnât say he always liked talking to the Intention, it made him feel useful.Â
It made him hate his eyes a little less each time.
It made him feel like he had a place now. With Gil. With his family. A place he could return to, a place he could be loved.
Gift for amy.naw (not sure if they have Tumblr) as part of @i-prefer-the-term-antihero's Pandora Hearts Secret Santa 2025! I love the opportunity to draw Lacie.
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Hi, @auburnflight , I was your secret Santa for PH secret Santa 2025! I know you said youâd pretty much like anything, so itâs Lacie! đ ( @i-prefer-the-term-antihero , @phmonth )