#phsecretsanta

After 30 minutes, he was done with his breakfast and started to make the crust part of the pie when someone unexpected dropped by to say hello coming out of the cupboard and startling the man as always “Hello there, Gil kun~” that was enough to send shock to the other man who was about to lose his pie base “Break! can’t you come from the door like a normal person?!” After that flustered yell he sighed and calmed again not like that was new anyway “Good morning, I thought you'd be with Sharon until the meeting time” he asked quite curiously as he focused back on his pie.

“Well she sent me here to get her some fresh bread knowing that it should've been baked a few minutes ago, but what are you doing here this early, Gil kun~?” The playful man was quite interested as he watched the black haired one place the crust in the oven “I’m making a cherry pie for today’s meeting, it should be ready to offer by noon” he answered while his hands reached out to start the second part of the pie.

“That looks promising, I will be so happy to eat it, Gil kun~” the excited Break danced then took what he came for and left humming a sweet cheerful song on his way back.

“That was.. unexpected,” Gilbert mumbled as he continued. After an hour and half he was done then left the pie to cool down on the counter as he went to check on his reports and the meeting preparation himself. 

He went to the garden and got help from two maidens for flower selection and rearranged it in a beautiful vase in the main room. While he was fixing the flowers angles for a more stunning display his mind went to a memory of his past with Oz as they were hiding from little Ada in hide and seek game.

“Gil, don’t make any sound she will find us easily if she heard you” Oz told him with big smile of his “Y-yes, young master” he nodded and covered his mouth, while waiting there together, Oz was sure to stare his young servant up and down then try to hold a small giggle noticing how fragile he looked and how cute he was while trying to do what he was told as to not make any sound with his eyes fixed on the outside of the closet they hid in.

Gilbert on the other hand, just noticed the soft and smiley eyes of his master that kept looking at him “Ma-master, is there something on my face?” he whispered his question and Oz blinked twice before realizing what he was really doing and blushed slightly and tried to hide his small crush by saying “I just realized that white looks good on you” looking away from him.

the younger boy seemed to take in the words as he slightly blushed and smiled looking at his shirt “You think so, young master?” he asked again looking up at him with sweet smile that always make Oz’s heart beat faster which cause the older boy to nods his head and smile happily at him “Maybe I should get you a suit that matches mine for the upcoming party” he suggested and made the younger boy blush but happy as well and got a nod from him before they got caught by the young girl “Found you two!” she cheered and giggled hugging them both as they whined in defeat.

Gilbert’s cheeks were slightly bright as he remembered that time and giggled quietly, he left to the front door as the time went fast. He then heard the loud sound of horses and cart being stopped by the gate to the mansion and the servants gathered to greet the guests at the HQ.

Gilbert stood outside by the cart and opened the door to have the duo walk out then turn to hug him for more flustering greetings “Good morning, Gil~!” the blondie boy said “Good morning!” Alice said knowing he would make something for their meeting she was so excited “Good morning, how was your trip?” he asked as he patted their shoulders gently “It was nice and quiet” Oz said as he walked to the gate with the two following him inside.

They arrived at the lounge room and rested there until the others got here too so they could start the meeting “Alice do you want to go to the garden for a bit?” Oz asked her and she nodded. They walked out with Gilbert left to get the last of preparation done. 

After a while they heard Break calling for them to come inside as everyone has arrived and ready to start the meeting in the main room. A few hours had passed before the meeting was over and everyone went off to their ways.

Oz, Alice, Break, Sharon, Mr. Oscar and Gilbert were together in one lounge as they enjoyed their small meeting with Gil’s pie and gray tea to warm their hearts. “It’s good~, Gil kun~!” the doll said loud and clearly cheerful as well “I never knew it could eat” Alice said looking at the doll “Nope, it was only me who ate, Alice chan~” with his usual playful tone Break answered as Oz hummed like the rest in satisfaction from the sweet treat the black haired man made.

“Thank you, Gil” they all repeated and he only answered with a nod “You are very welcome” his voice was calmer than usual as the day passed by for lunch and then some nap time for the afternoon, yet Oz was not with Alice.

Gilbert was walking through the corridor when he spotted Oz walking alone through the garden and went after him. 

The young boy sat on a bench there surrounded by flowers and roses, he sighed only to be startled by none other than Gilbert, his old personal servant, dear friend and secret crush “Oh hey Gil, what are you doing here?” the shorter boy asked as he looked at Gil then to the blue rose in his hands upon his lap “Nothing, I just saw you walking here alone and I wanted to ask you if everything is okay?” Gil said calmly, walking to stand three steps away from his master’s seat.

Oz looked up at his crush and smiled but Gilbert felt as if that smile was a bit odd not quite the cheerful one as usual “It’s nothing, Gil. you still worry too much over everything, huh. looks like you’ve never changed from back then. soft and gentle oh but of course you’re more stronger not like the fragile boy you were back then, but still scared of cats” he chuckled at the last one which caused the older male to blush and try to defend himself “They still want to scratch my face off!” he seemed flustered with blush all over his soft cheeks.

Oz smiled at the sight and hummed “You know Gil you’re still as beautiful as you were back then” the words came out naturally that when Oz saw his crush’s face turn red, he blushed slightly himself and looked at his hands “Sorry, that was weird” he tried to dismiss the matter but then “Wait.. um.. you.. Oz.. I..” he stood in his place stunned and unable to finish his words like when he was young and his master looked up at him blinking a few times before a wide smile spread on his lips “What is it, Gilbert? you still hesitate when you want to tell me something about your feelings or thoughts” he tried to tease him only to be met with a shy Gil, the exact same face but in an older version.

“I.. I don’t think you are weird” he mumbled looking down on his feet, the cold breeze blowing a bit stronger this time taking the white rose the taller man was keeping in his jacket to the younger boy’s lap next to the Blue one in his hands “Oh? is that so? and why Gilbert?” Oz decided to hear his thoughts on this matter as he held the other rose in his hand now “Because I..” his words died this time and he couldn't find his voice anymore. 

Oz stood up and walked to stop in front of Gilbert and into his personal space then looked up at him to see how red like tomato the man was now and ready to run off, he held his coat to prevent him from escaping and lightly tug on it to get him to lean in toward his face “Gil, do you like me?” it was a direct shot to the man’s heart causing him to face away from him and sulk in frustration unable to answer him.

Oz showed a smile of sadness and sighed “looks like it’s just me then, huh” he mumbled and let the fabric go only to have a strong and bigger hand to hold his retreating one and rested it on his chest forcing the blood to rise to the younger one’s cheeks in rush to feel those strong heart beats drumming so loud and clear through that always seemingly calm chest.

“I think it’s cold, do you wish to share our bodies’ warmth?” Gil’s words were soft and low barely above whispers “Oh Gil~, that would be so dramatic but of course I would love to” Oz’s words were low too as he moved his arms to wrap around Gilbert’s neck while the other kneeled down closer to wrap his arms around his thin waist too and pulled him into his chest whispering the words softly to his neck “I love you, Oz” the young boy smiled and whispered the same way to his lover’s neck “I love you too, Gil” closed eyes as they shared quiet and peaceful moment before they pulled a part to share a soft and sweet kiss to warm their hearts while sealing their already intertwined fates.

The sun was setting and the night was coming so they decided to get back inside to relax and enjoy their newly found love, with those feelings being finally revealed and spoken of, their lives would be so much happier now despite the hardships, they had each other's backs forever and ever. 

“Will you stand by my side until i’m gone?”.

“Rest assured that I shall never leave you side, no matter what, My Master”.

“I would love to sleep forever in your arms, My Dear Love”.

Fin.

----------------------------------------------

Tags :

@phmonth2020​​

@i-prefer-the-term-antihero​​

@maddyisenough

“Mew!” Snowdrop responded.

She petted her cat once more, looking around.

No one. Wooden walls and a breeze.

She breathed out. It wasn’t exactly unheard of that objects such as these could give off strange visions, or spill voices into one’s ears, and she was no stranger to the dark and the dangerous. It was surely just a particularly powerful object, which was simply doing its job, and someone would buy it soon enough.

Despite her mind’s attempts to reassure her, she probably should have been listening more carefully.

For the next few weeks, intermittently when she was in her shop, whispers would tread the air around her. Simple words, cries, accusations, voices that—dare she admit it?—she recognized.

Her brother’s, her uncle’s, her father’s, and—somehow worst of all—her own.

Her own voice, sounding so pitiful, so lost, and tiny.

Did she still sound like that?

After a while, it wasn’t hard to recognize what they were: memories. Memories of a past calling back to her. A sad and empty past that she had tried to forget. A past in which the Baskervilles threw her brother into the Abyss, and that place kept him from her for ten years.

Was this just her mind playing tricks on her? Was it all in her head? Nothing real?

But, of course, these memories were real. She just didn’t think of them too often, because she didn’t quite like that fact.

What kind of an object could do this? Why would someone create such an object in the first place? What should she even be looking for?

She tried to block them, to find something else that would drown them out, to cover her ears, but the whispers seeped in through the boards she nailed over her mind’s doors, and the cracks between her fingers.

The murmurs followed her. They pooled in her brain when she left the shop, and didn’t drain away. They grew louder. There came a point when she tore apart her neatly polished shop in search of the offender, and found…nothing.

But as she turned to leave one day, she saw her reflection in the door window, and behind herself, the curtain to the back…She turned, and did something dangerous:

She started thinking.

Hidden away, back there, like a caged beast, was in an old chest, and within it, something she had been warned about, but whose purpose had never quite been explained to her.

Her hand shaking ever so slightly, she fingered the necklace she was wearing, pulling it from beneath her shirt, holding the end up before her eyes, twinkling in the low light; a tiny, old silver key.

*****

Ada walked out into the darkened school grounds. There was something about the cool night air that made everything seem less inviting, less pure. The person waiting for her, during the day, would—(if a little odd)—have been an ordinary student, but in the dark he was a figure, a mystery, harbinger of more mystic nights to come.

They weren’t supposed to be out after dark—and she was one of those adamant rule-followers—but there had been something about the plea to his voice earlier…

“Good evening, Leo-kun.” Her small, but strong, voice broke the silence.

Leo turned to her, half moonlight reflecting off his glasses, and bowed.

“Yes, Good evening, Miss Vessalius.” He smiled, though there was a twitch in the corner of his mouth that betrayed its reality.

“If I may, can I ask how you found out about my shop?”

He scratched his chin, looking around as if the courtyard had suddenly become more interesting. “I simply heard about it from some of our fellow students. You know how they can be prone to gossiping.”

Who knew about her? And why they wouldn’t say anything about it to her? How did they find out? How many people knew by now? Or, what if he was lying? If so, why didn’t he want her to know how he knew?

“Ah, I see.” She didn’t press the issue, but wasn’t completely satisfied with the explanation either.

She was surprised that Leo would even come to her in the first place; he only ever spoke to her through Elliot—and was always with Elliot in general—so she didn’t want to scare him off with extra, unnecessary questions. This was already the longest conversation they ever had. Though the question of who knew about her shop, and how, troubled her, what was important was this object he was giving to her. It was the reason for their meeting, after all. If she badgered him too much, he might decide not give it to her at all. Nevertheless, the simple fact that he had arranged this late-night meeting, alone with her—without Elliot—in the first place, meant that whatever he was trying to give to her was affecting him deeply.

Or maybe it was affecting Elliot.

“So…you have something for me?”

“Right.” He seemed relieved she wasn’t going to ask any more questions. He set his bag on the ground, and knelt down to fish something from it.

But once he retrieved it, the cloth-covered object gave her few more answers than questions.

She cocked her head to the side, leaning forward, puzzled, but intrigued, trying to keep her excitement from bubbling over.

Leo breathed out the answer to her unasked question. “It’s a music box.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of enchanted music boxes before!” her obsession started to peak through, “What’s this one called?”

She reached out her hand towards it, but he jerked it away from her.

He seemed to realize the suddenness of the action, and relaxed a little. “I…Sorry, I just…” the veiled agitation bled out from behind the curtain.

What was it that made him so jumpy? Usually he was quiet, but confident. Was it this object? Or could it be her? He didn’t seem very comfortable around most people who weren’t Elliot, so maybe her sudden movement just startled him a little? Although…if it was the object itself… should she be scared too?

She decided not to let it bother her. Once again, this wasn’t exactly the first time someone had acted strangely when trying to get an occult object off their hands.

“So…might I ask what its purpose is?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m…afraid I’d rather not say.”

“Eh? It’s going to be rather hard for me to sell if I don’t know what it does, you know.”

“Sell it?” fear came to the surface. “No, no, no, no, you can’t sell this! You can’t even open it!”

She blinked.

“So…you’re giving me something; you wouldn’t like to tell me what it does, and you…don’t want me to sell or use it? Forgive my rudeness, but why don’t you simply hide it yourself? Or destroy it?”

“I’ve,” he cleared his throat, “tried both.” He looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck, and she often wished she could see the look in his eyes behind those glasses.

“And?”

He stayed silent, but it was obvious both had failed.

“But you’re used to dealing with these sorts of things, right?” he spoke up again, “So I thought you might have methods of keeping it from…activating. Or be better be able to,” he mumbled the next few words, “tune it out.”

“I’m sure I can handle it!” She smiled, though she was losing confidence the more they spoke.

The same phenomenon seemed to be happening to him.

“Please listen to me, Miss Vessalius;” he placed a hand on her shoulder—and how afraid, how insistent, would the look in his eyes have been, if she could have seen it?—“I can’t force you to accept this, or teach you how to stop it. All I can do is give you a warning; do not open this. For whatever reason, if you start to hear things, cover your ears, if you see anything, cover your eyes.”

“Huh? But why?”

What exactly did all that mean? What sorts of things would she hear or see? Just how powerful was this thing?

He rubbed his temple as if that would keep his aggravation from spilling out.

“This is…dangerous. Maybe the most dangerous thing you’ve ever handled.”

“Well, I have handled—”

His expression shut her up.

“So…” She cleared her throat, trying to keep from getting annoyed herself. “Why do you have it in the first place?”

He shook his head, looking at the veiled box. “Just a mistake.”

He proceeded to pull on a chain around his neck, which ended in a small silver key. He pulled it over his head, pooling it in his hand, holding it out to her his head bowed (out of respect, or a desire not to look at it, she didn’t know)—though he did so as if it were a gun—“Please keep this with you at all times.”

This was more than she bargained for, or guessed the care of this object would entail. Usually if she got a call, even if it was something dangerous, they wouldn’t be so cryptic, and they often just wanted to get rid of it, they didn’t bother with warnings and precautions.

Still, nothing she couldn’t handle.

She nodded, taking it and slipping it around her neck.

He bit his lip, his grip tight around the box, his hands shaking a little.

“Please hide this in the most secure location you can find.”

He thrust the box towards her, though his death grip made it clear he didn’t really want entrust it to her. She wrapped her fingers around it, looking curiously at him as she felt his resistance, before tugging it away from him.

“I promise to take care of it.” she tried to reassure him.

“Promise me you won’t open it.” His voice was the most serious she’d ever heard of it.

She smiled, giving a curt nod.

“Promise.”

But what do people do when presented with a mystery, a curious object, and an unshakable warning about it’s volatility?

They do the very thing they’re commanded not to do.

*****

It was a few days later still, when she gave in.

She knelt on the floorboards in her back room, a battered chest before her, its hinges rusty, its wood splintering. The rug was folded back, and the trap door the chest had been heaved out of propped open.

Did Leo know, then, about the whispers? About how they nagged and poked and prodded at one’s mind? How they staked themselves there, laying claim to her heart? Did he know how powerful it would be? How much it would affect her life?

She told herself he didn’t.

When she knew full well he did; otherwise he wouldn’t have been so adamant, so tense.

The chest’s maw, creaking as she lifted the lid, revealed the veiled oddity sitting at the bottom. Waiting, like a black bride, for her groom.

Surely it wasn’t this object, so small and unassuming, that was capable of invading her thoughts so entirely?

It wasn’t such a big deal. Just one peak. Listen to a few notes. Keep the whispers at bay.

“Come on, Ada!”

She drew in a breath, and lowered her hands into the depths, as if into murky waters, and gently took the dark bride’s hand, pulling her from the waves.

It was light, as if she was holding the whispers themselves. Yet the longer the bride held her hand, the tighter her grip, the heavier the weight of their vows.

“Say, what’s Abyss?”

The voice was louder this time.

Just breathe.

It’ll all be over soon.

She pulled the cloth, unveiling the wretched face she was destined to kiss.

“Well it’s a sort of prison…”

The box was black, ornate silver designs, curls and borders on the sides and top. Other than that it was relatively plain. But holding it made her breath catch, and the room darker.

She told herself it was just her own fear.

Letting it sit in her hands for a moment, she weighed it, along with Leo’s words. Part of her brain begged her to listen to him, screamed at her to return it to its place in the ground.

But it was too alive to bury.

“for bad guys…”

A lump grew in her throat as she tugged on the chord to the key around her neck.

As curiosity often bids us, she did the very thing he demanded she never do. For the simplest reason as a few whispers, and a rickety past.

“Please, let me in! My brother’s in trouble!!”

She gasped, reaching her fingers gently to her lips, as if not quite sure if she had said it herself. The shout had sounded so real, less ephemeral, less there, more here…

Shaking, her hands sweating, glancing around as if someone would see her breaking into something that belonged to her, she fit the key into the lock.

Though the weather was perfectly calm outside, she could hear rain beginning to pound.

“Oz Vessalius, your sin is…”

The pronunciation felt like it was coming down on her own head, like the past-born rain.

She was that little girl again, soaked through with water and fear, begging to be let in. The rain breathed; it was talking to her with the fluttery voices of those she loved, and those she had grown to hate. Some words broke through the crowd—brushing shoulders and pushing others down, louder, stronger—but the memories were so many by now that the whispers seemed like a mob.

Hands shivering, shutting her eyes tight, she turned the key,

—It clicked—

Placed her fingers on the wood of the lid—

The rain was so loud….

“Your very—“

And lifted it.

The action was like a conductor bringing down his baton; those whispers, the breath of the wind and rain, were all simultaneously silenced.

She glanced around, as if she would be able to see their smoke dissipating in the air.

The silence was almost worse…Almost.

Because silence is empty, and can be filled.

When she tipped it open, no tiny dancer twirled around. No frilly art or pretty words decorated the inside. She could see the cogs beneath, like if a ship’s deck were glass, and you could see the rudders, all the working parts and windswept waves that kept it going.

Though the look of it was plain, and rather unexciting, the inside of the lid held a peculiar inscription:

To he who dares play this song

You may yet still know it wrong

If it’s for redemption that you’ve asked

And the answer, you believe, in long awaited past

Without map, without wind, in the end, no sign of treasure

Too late, the hands of time will show you your own measure.

Upon seeing the words, questions boiled in her thoughts. What could this mean? What was she looking for in opening it? If she wasn’t looking for redemption, did that mean it was safe to listen? What about the past? Why would she want to hear whispers of, look into, the past? But if she didn’t…what was she doing here? Could this be more than simple attempts to shut the whispers up? Was there real temptation behind her current actions?

Then, without warning, or winding, the music began to play.

Though the notes were slow and few, they plucked at her heart. They tugged on her veins and sent vibrations through her, like she was their true instrument.

She slammed both the lid and her eyes shut, breath heavy.

She peeked open an eye.

Just a music box. Nothing strange. Nothing to tell her it was capable of great and terrible things. Just an ordinary music box. No notes fell out unannounced.

Taking up the key to lock it again, she felt another presence in the room.

You will all be receiving an e-mail from me with your assignment by this Saturday (10/28), by no later than 5 PM EST! I am doing my best to match people up accordingly, so that everyone has at least one thing in common with the person they are creating a gift for! However, I’m only one person (with a full-time job and other life responsibilities), so that’s why it’ll take me a few days!

Once you receive your assignment, you can get started as soon as you like! No worries at all if you can’t start right away! You still have nearly 2 months to create your gift! More information will be included in the e-mail!

You will not be “paired” with someone... that is, you will not be making a gift for the same person who is making a gift for you. This way, you will not know who is making your gift; it keeps the “secret” in “secret santa”! ;D

Also, if everyone who is in the exchange could follow this blog for updates, that would be great! If you don’t want to, that’s of course fine, but it will make announcements/general communication a bit easier!