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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 2 years ago

Text

Spolia (V)

Parings: Malleus/(Light Fae) MC // Slight Rook/Vil // Trein/MC (Parental)

Summary: You wondered why you ever got accepted into NRC but never bothered to look back when the infamous black carriage whisked you away from a place you could never call home. Having been handed an opportunity of freedom, of solitude, of hope- how come you're paralyzed with fear rather than excitement? Your sunny plein air sessions and nightly walks contemplating this has attracted a certain dragon fae with an affinity for your nimble gargoyle sketches and magnificent paintings.

Notes: Haha have you ever loved someone so much you wanted to crawl into their skin to feel their warmth and life and decay surround your entirety? Totally yeah me neither! Also working more on the Pygmalion inspired Rook fic still. I'm cookin up something real tasty lmk your thoughts and character analysis on Rook. @twst-hanaya ‘s analysis “Apathy Wrapped in Kindness” particularly struck me, and was one of the inspirations to this coming work.

CW: Graphic descriptions of vomit (I swear it’s plot/symbolically relevant), panic attack

AO3 Link Here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 (Here) // Part 6 // Part 7

Masterlist

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You woke up with the sun beaming on your back, wrapping your exposed shoulders with its golden warmth. You didn't even remember falling sleep last night, especially on the floor of all places. Maybe you just passed out after all that painting.

Basking in the honeyed glow of the sun, soaking its radiance into ivory hair and nestling it deeply into your lungs, you were reminded of Lilia’s words. Like he suggested, it felt good to be exposed to what you came from. Here, you were weighed down by the effects of the potion, and at home, you were tossed into that dark room. All the naps you often took under the sun made more sense now, it felt like you were making up for all of the natural sustinece you were lacking. After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you face your painting from last night.

Though generally, you fussed at the minute details of each piece, painstakingly perfecting each particle of every piece‒ that obsessive hunger that ate away at your heart last night was nearly gone, especially when you remember the contents of that letter. And unlike all of your pieces before, you imprinted your name into the piece.

Find me, find me, find me

You felt determination pool into your stomach, and you let out a careful breath so as to not shatter it. Looking around the mess in your room, you decided to begin gathering supplies for a busy weekend. Since winter break was approaching, the art club usually hosted a winter market on campus grounds with the science club, which provided much of the funds for club activities until the spring events rolled around. This year seemed to warrant special attention and efforts, due to a certain headmage claiming he didn’t have much funds to spare for most of the clubs this year. Something about unforeseen damages caused by overblots this year, you weren’t sure what that was about, not really keeping up to date with student drama and news circulating around busy lunch periods and Magicam group chats. Nonetheless, both the art and science club were especially fired up to earn some funds for creative and scientific pursuits. You decided you were going to sell some homemade paints, as well as set up some personal exhibitions for select members. In addition to all of the other booths featuring jewelry, pottery, glassware, and other artist booths‒ you already knew you were going to be stretched thin managing everything at once, so preparation was key.

You gathered some vials of paint and a few pieces from your hoard of paintings before changing into your uniform, and slipping your itchy wig onto your head. When you finished straightening our your appearance, our body automatically moved towards the chest on top of your dresser, containing the vial you choked down everyday. You numbed your body, running a still coldness in your veins to prepare for the burn to come. Throwing the bottle back as usual, you cringed when the viscous fire touched your tongue, sliding down each fleshy ridge in your throat. Again, you flushed the feeling down with water, feeling the fire push down into your stomach, and up again into your searing heart. You set the bottle back in its chest, turning to the supplies that were gathered near your door, wobbling towards the drapery you usually used to transport your paintings without any unwanted attention. Spreading the fabric, you wrapped the smaller ones in one, before turning to the biggest panting to encase individually. You felt your head spin at the sight of your work from last night, with your name delicately blended into the scene in gray paint. The air in your lungs rose to your heart, and tightened your heavy chest.

Please let me find you.

You hauled your body with all your mortal might, flinging your door open and bolted to the shared bathroom down the hall. The scorching bile that lurched at the back of your throat was just barely held in as you purged the bitter acid from your stomach. You heard a clink of glass as you realized you had probably brought the vial into the bathroom, but the moment of clarity soon ceased as liquid poured and poured from your throat. Though you told your body to stop, it didn’t. The bitterness just kept gushing and gushing out of you. Through your bleary eyes, you could identify the chunks resembling the cookies you ate with Malleus and Lilia last night, the water you drank just now with the medicine, and an unidentifiable toxin from deep within you that continued to spurt out. Against the waves that rippled your back into another fit, you felt a cool hand massage your back. You wanted to swat it away, but your hands clung to the sides of the porcelain. After what felt like an eternity, your body stopped expelling the waste from your mouth, allowing your vision to adjust to the bottle that rolled at the base of the toilet. When your shaking hand reached out to it, a slender hand plucked it from the marble tiles.

“What is this?”

Your head thundered in pain as you recognized the voice.

“Are you alright…?” Vil asked, looking down at your form with a twinge of disgust and worry. When you forced your weighted eyelids open, your dorm leader was sniffing the contents of the bottle, before swirling it around in the light above to catch its color in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be messing around with potions like this. You know what this is, right?”

If you could feel shame as a Pomefiore student who was supposed to excel in potions, you would. However, the breaths that you gulped in and squeezed out of your lungs was the best you could do. You were never informed of the contents of the bottle, nor did you seek to find out what it was. To you, it was just the medicine your mother sent to you every month, which you were responsible for emptying into your body without a single drop before sending the empty bottle back to her. You just sent a pitiful look to your dorm leader.

Vil furrowed his eyebrows, holding out the potion to your face. “ This , is a transformation potion, which you may know from your alchemy courses to be both illegal , and very dangerous if consumed in large quantities like this. The bottle is nearly empty, so, enlighten me , what exactly were you thinking ?”

You winced at each word Vil emphasized. From his stern expression, it was clearly coming from a place of concern, but deep shame bloomed inside of you as you were reminded of your blind faith towards your mother, despite ‒ even in your delirium‒ knowing her words were never to be trusted. You knew, but you couldn’t help but to curl into yourself, to tuck into your body tightly to shield yourself from the pain that was behind that truth. Why did you have to do this? Why did the gods condemn you? Why did your fae parents abandon you in exchange for a human child? Why? Why? Why ?

You slowly rose to your feet, ignoring the nausea that rushed throughout your body. Despite his dissatisfaction from a lack of answer, Vil supported your body against his, leading you back to the bed in your room.

“I’m obviously going to have to confiscate this…It seems you have your own situation so I’ll let the headmage decide what he’s going to do about this…” He gestured towards your messy figure. “But, in the meantime, rest . Otherwise I will be putting you on house arrest.”

Despite the threat of his words, you felt grateful for his understanding, however you still groaned and reached out towards Vil as a pathetic attempt to steal back the potion. Exhaustion etched in your bones as you just dragged your hand up, before gravity pushed it back down onto your covers. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Lilia was definitely right, your physical body needed rest from the potion‒ the poison. You gazed with heavy eyes as Vil exited your room, vial in hand.

This is it. This is the end.

Your mind briefly flashed to the previous episodes of fury from your mother, a phantom tug felt at your hair when you remembered the times she dragged you by the root of its scalp to shut you in that dark room. Surely you were going to suffer for this, that was fact. You merely accepted it, and swallowed it through your acid burnt throat. When your eyes flickered to your painting again, your hands were already rustling the parchment in your pocket. Taking the letter out, smoothing out the wrinkles, you traced a featherlight touch onto the raised ink. As your back crashed into your covers, the smell of turpentine and withered paper enveloped you as you drifted off to sleep.

————————————

Malleus walked his usual route to the library per his daily schedule since the cultural festival. He imagined exactly the location of the book, Spolia , tucked between one red, one blue book by each side. Even with the number of times he scurried into the library to check if the slip was gone from the book‒ he could never seem to remember or even register the other books in the library that were with it. He dragged his finger across the spines, stopping his finger precisely at Spolia . With a baited breath, he opened the book.

At page 1001, where the letter should have been, bore a crease in the binding of the book as if to imprint the absence of the parchment onto the pages. Malleus felt the pounding of his heart at his fingertips, at the soles of his feet, into the core of his ears.

I wish to find you.

He wondered what they looked like when they found the letter? Did surprise embellish your face? Confusion? Happiness? Sadness? What did they feel in that moment, feet planted right where his were? Malleus breathed deeply, pushing the oxygen from his lungs, through his stomach, and far into his hands and feet as if to feel the remnants of their warmth from the carpet and musky library air. He at least hoped they heard the same drumming of blood in their head as he was right now.

Flipping through the pages, he looked for any trace of them within each grain of the paper. When he found nothing, he sighed, slipping the book back into its place. Maybe he’d ask you if any exhibitions or showings were coming up to scour the walls for another breathtaking piece. He felt an itch forming that scrambled his insides, intensifying the ache that palpated the nerves from the tip of his horns, to the soles of his feet. Swallowing the saccharine warmth that spread on his tongue, he tamped down that feeling as he walked towards the Pomefiore dorm for the first time, without you.

————————————

You felt so much better after that nap. Throwing up really sapped the energy out of you, and you were slightly thankful that it had, otherwise you probably would have carried on as usual and inconvenienced more people. You felt lighter, hopping out of bed with your new found energy and dusting the wrinkles out of your uniform. Though your stomach twisted a bit at the sight of your painting, you were able to wrap in its cloth without expelling all of the contents of your stomach once more. Gulping that feeling down with an entire glass of water, you began gathering your things, and headed down the stairs to begin another attempt in preparing for the winter market.

"Where is he, human ? We saw young master come this way, don't bother lying."

"I said I have no idea who you're talkin' about! Get the hell away from my face you brute!!"

You winced at the familiar volume of the first voice. Brute, as Epel put it, couldn't be more correct, as you remembered his forceful hands snatching the book from your grasp.

"Sebek there's a better way to handle this…" a third exasperated voice you didn't recognize added.

In trained movements, you slowly crept towards the entrance of the dorm, hoping with all your might that you could avoid whatever situation was going on. Truly, you did not know and you did not care.

"Cease your lies human! There's no living being that hasn't been graced with the name of the Great Malleus Draconia!!"

Your nimble hands creaking the door open stopped at that name. Malleus? Young master? So he was the one he stole my book for.

A thought flashed through your head.

Then could he have been the one who put that note in that book ?

The second that thought was finished, you felt a tightness in your throat. You pushed it down with the incomprehension of that being true. In this moment, where you were swiftly reminded of his status, not only being the heir to the throne, but as someone who was etched in the memories of thousands, even millions of people. Someone who is and will forever be remembered, and exist outside of his life and death. You were just a dismembered pile of hands, feet, hair, and innards mangled and stitched together to be stuffed into an artificial skin vaguely resembling something living. You would stop existing if someone did not look at you. Despite Malleus' kind eyes which filled your body with a bubbly warmth, you knew your "body" would just turn cold again when you looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the face casted over your flesh. It was impossible to love something without a face.

The searing warmth you felt at your fingertips that thawed your frigid veins disappeared, as you shrouded your body head to toe with a chill numbness you were used to pouring over your head like ice water.

"YOU."

Your shoulders jumped slightly at Sebek's pointed glare. However, the sharp ice that numbed your nerves suspended your expression into a dull look. "Yes?"

"You again, human. Perhaps you would like to enlighten us with the whereabouts of the young master since you're always trailing behind him like a stray dog?"

You almost let out a huff of amusement at that name, what a stupid coincidence, you thought, feeling a sense of painful familiarity. Yes, if anything the skin you wore was handcrafted by your mother to be a dog, rather than some crude image of a human. You mused the other faces your mother lovingly sewed into your flesh. A doll? A robot perhaps? Really, the futility that was imbued into your flesh the moment you were conceived was truly laughable . You pictured in your mind with bitterness, Spolia, once more.

" Enough , Sebek."

You recognized the deep rumble of the voice that came behind you. Malleus stood with a stony expression pointed at Sebek.

"Y-young master!"

"Young master."

The two Diasmonia students crowding Epel quickly swiveled around, sharpening their posture with a snap of their feet. Malleus held his hand to dismiss their formality in front of you and Epel, before turning towards you two with a sorry expression.

"I apologize for Sebek's attitude. I came to the Pomefiore dorm to look for you, but it seems I alarmed these two in the process. Really, they mean no harm."

Hot crimson spread across Sebek's face that made you a little concerned if he was going to stop breathing or start crying. The man with silver hair right next to him merely stood with a steady look, unaffected by the scolding of his partner. You shook your head, grabbing your supplies to escape his situation with or without Malleus, because numbness was beginning to prick at your chest, despite your best efforts in shoving that feeling far far down in your tingling stomach.

"It's okay. They seem like good guardsmen, you being heir to the throne and all. I'm sure they were just doing their jobs." You successfully balanced everything into your hands. "Is there anything you needed?"

Malleus lips sung a sweet laugh at the sight of your balance act. You pouted a bit when he began taking the canvases out of his hands.

"Young master I'll‒" Sebek jumped to take everything from his hands, but was promptly stopped the silver haired man. "Let's go Sebek. Excuse us for the intrusion, young master. We’ll be off now." He dragged the other man, who was huffing and puffing in objection.

“I wanted to ask you about that winter festival. I was wondering if you were going to be setting up another gallery.”

"Oh. Well, we are, but are you sure I'm not pulling you away from more important matters?" You asked, looking questionably toward the frustrated sputtering being yanked out the door.

"I was the one to seek you out, child of man. And further," He paused, flashing you a golden warmth through his viridian eyes. “You are an important matter to me.”

You felt like you were being swallowed by the light of his eyes. Eyes which did not pick apart your body nor instill a primal desire for you to extinguish your blazing heart with chilled detachment. Eyes that devoured you as a whole. If you could, you would crawl into those viridian hues of his and let him ravage your heart and sinew. But the blood that pumped throughout your body felt like poison. So, you lulled your gaze at the ground.

“I…you are that to me too. Important.” The dizziness from pulling your gaze away from Malleus’ own scrambled your words. “I was going to drop some of this stuff off in the classroom for easy transportation. Maybe I can give you a sneak peak of the pieces, ha ha.”

You two chatted about simple manners, like the pranks Lilia was up to nowadays, the phenomenal nap you just had, or your latest findings in research. During the walk towards the main college building your chest felt lighter, thawing the icy numbness still faintly at the tips of your fingers beside his warmth.

Find me, find me, find me.

Malleus peered at your expression. The sunset that swirled in your eyes, painted within it a portrait of ghostly longing and suffocating distance that he had sometimes traced back to you through a thin thread. It drew him closer in an understanding more deep that he could put into words. His hand twitched, resisting the urge to cradle your face in his hands, drinking in the colors rippling through your gaze and the warmth from the blood that bellowed under tender flesh.

I wish to find you.

You dumped your things on the table before taking your canvases from Malleus’ hands. “You can look through some of those pieces in that organizer if you want.” You gesture towards a tall shelf with various mediums filling the narrow compartments.”Just don’t tell any of my members” you said with a shrug, opening a cabinet and carefully filling your drawer with the vials of paint.

Your vision was stained a deep magenta, signaling that the sun was almost down. A cool, nighttime walk was just what you needed today after the day you’ve had. Soon, the magnificent moon began to peek her face in early through the vibrant sky.

“Are any of your paintings here, child of man?” Malleus looked intently each work, examining it with a careful gaze.

“Ah, no. Apart from the ones I brought today, I sold most of the ones I kept here during the cultural festival. The rest are in my room. It’s a mess right now.” You let out an airy laugh, closing the drawer full of glass containers as delicately as possible.

Malleus hummed in response. “I was hoping to see your paintings someday soon. It’s a shame most of you art club members don’t sign their work.”

“Ah, some of us do. But it's up to personal preference, really. But for some artists, you can recognize their styles with just one glance." You explained. "We artists etch our souls, thoughts, and prayers into each of our creations‒ they’re all laced together with a similar love. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to identify some artists, because we’re essentially just identifying a face.”

Malleus continued his attentive inspection of the canvases. “You artists are such romantic creatures. But that’s certainly a beautiful thing.” He chuckled. “But, prayers? What do you mean by that?”

Warmth spread through your cheeks, bristling the tiny hairs on your face. You attempted to hide it, leaning against a table and letting your hair cascade down your eyes. “Yeah. A prayer. Like the same way we pray to a god, artists pray to the world to be understood, to be heard, to be seen.” You brushed the parchment in your pocket. “To be found.”

The moon shined through the large classroom windows, illuminating the classroom in a dazzling cobalt blue.

“To be found.” Malleus repeated, voice so far it scraped against his throat, creating a dry rumble that echoed through your spine.

I wish to find you.

“Yeah. To be found.” You echoed back.

Find me, find me, find me.

“Malleus?” You tested his name on your tongue, enjoying the mulled warmth that spread with it.

He slipped his body next to yours. “Yes, (name)?”

“Do you ever look at the moon, and feel suffocated? Like, it’s just too bright and too beautiful and you feel a sense of…greed?” You really weren’t sure why you were rambling. You thought to stop, but you couldn’t. “…Or maybe longing is the right word. Like there’s this deep desire inside of you and no matter how beautiful the moon is, nothing can satisfy it.”

He paused, drinking in the feeling of your body expanding and contracting at each breath, feeding the blood that pumped warmth throughout your body. He was careful to keep his steady breaths as your arms touched leaning against one another, holding his fluttering heart in the muscles lining his stomach.

“Yes. Yes, I…it’s like a prayer, like you said. But one which spans eternity.” There were no words in any language enough to tell you that he understood that feeling more than anything in the world. During his lonely walks before, he would often gaze into the moon, yearning for warmth the share that feeling of hunger with.

You let out an airy laugh. “Sorry. I brought the mood down. But, the moon really is beautiful.”

“It truly is.”

The both of you exchanged warmth, feeling eachother’s breath through the gentle waves your shoulders made, side by side. Binding your own hands into one, you prayed in your heart.

Find me, find me, find me.

And for the first time, the slight ache that formed knots in your stomach when you pleaded the same phrase over and over again all those nights before, didn’t come. You simply melted into Malleus’ heat, reflecting the beauty of the moon into your eyes with little hurt.

————————————

The morning of the winter market was something you simultaneously dreaded and anticipated. Though on one hand, you were both nervous and excited to finally give a response to the letter always tucked in your pocket, the winter market also meant winter break‒ which is when you were dragged back home by your mother to your family's liar. However, you focused on the positives for the time being. The exhibition was coming along nicely especially as you decided to entrust a majority of the planning to the underclassmen, you felt more energized after you stopped taking your mother's medicine, and the winter market overall had been going according to plan. You were even able to do something a little new this year, setting up a stall selling clothes, trinkets, and furniture donated by students and staff. Crewel praised your work, saying something about a perfect opportunity to get rid of outdated pieces in his collection. You hummed as you organized the clothes by color.

"Mx.D’aramitz. How is it coming along?”

You jumped slightly at that voice, swiveling your head to see Professor Trein, a pile of books in hand.

“Oh! Professor Trein. It’s coming along well, actually! Are those for donation?”

Trein nodded. “Yes, but I wanted to see if you'd take any of these books before I gave them away. They’re from my undergraduate days, and they’ve just been collecting dust over the years. There should be some art history books actually, I remember taking that as an elective with my wife…”

You felt a smile curl onto your lips. “Thank you professor! These books are normally so expensive…”As Trein set down the books onto the counter, you crooked your neck to peer at the spines. Pulling out a couple of books that caught your interest, you looked up at Trein, quietly asking for approval.

“Take as many as you would like Mx.D’aramitz, please. They’ll just collect dust in my office back home.” He quipped with a smile. You thanked him several times more, inspecting each cover with curious eyes.

“Are you going back home for winter break, Mx.D’aramitz?” Your gut clenched at that question.

“Ah…yes. I am.” There was nothing else to decorate your words with. You were being dragged back to that house without a doubt, and there was nothing in that statement but quick, sterile fact. The quiet concern swimming in Trein’s eyes elicited a further response. “Back to the shaftlands, back at my family’s company. The work never stops…” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Your family’s company? Not your home?.” Home? That was a foreign word to you. What was home supposed to feel like?

“Well, my parents mostly keep me at the company to manage things…" They don’t allow me much in that house unless to lure in unsuspecting businessmen.

"Do your parents keep you there that often?"

"No, it's not that…I…" your breath quickened as you fixed your vision to the ground, squeezing your hands and feet in hopes of ridding the tension. "I'm sorry. I-I don't know. I just‒ don't have the words right now." You gasped out.

A hand was felt on your trembling shoulder. "It's alright. As your teacher, I just worry about your safety. Especially after…” Trein trailed off, sparing you from having to hear how utterly pitiful you must have looked next to your brooding mother. Deep shame was renewed in your chest once more, helping the carnivorous pit of emptiness carve out the hole inside you. You let the heavy waves of oxygen ripple throughout your body to placate the aching wound. Looking back at Trein with practiced lightness in your eyes, you embellished your face with a polished smile that delivered into your insides a sincere repulsion.

“I’m fine, professor. I appreciate your concern. But I’m fine. There’s nothing going on that you need to worry about.” Your professor’s face stared you down in concern, looking for any morsel of deception in your expression that he could heave out. But, the rehearsed face you adored was impenetrable, fossilized under years of pressure. Even you could not break it.

“…Alright. I suppose if you say so, I must believe you. If there is anything I can help with, do not hesitate to let me know. It is my duty as your teacher to keep you safe and in good health. I will see you sometime soon, Mx.D’aramitz, I look forward to your exhibition.” The unknown tension you were holding in your shoulders melted away at his words as he walked away with a thin smile. You waved with a calculated calmness, before letting out a deep breath out your nose. There was no use dwelling on that, you had much work to do before the market opened in an hour or so.

You checked up on the stalls, making sure everything and everyone was in their place before searching for Crewel to confirm things on his end. When you spot him at the corner of your eye, you noticed you were intruding on a scolding of your Vice Housewarden, covered head to toe in various splotches of colors, laughing. You paced your steps to arrive near Crewel’s side at the end of his lecture, standing awkwardly for a bit for your chance.

“Professor Crewel…”

“ What ??” He swiveled around with a vexed look. Your feet backed up automatically, putting your hands in front of you to show no harm. “Oh! (Name)! Sorry, just scolding some bad puppies to prevent any happenings later on.” He shot a pointed look towards Rook. “Are we starting already?”

You nodded. “Yes, in about five minutes actually. I just wanted to check on your end before I’m headed for my stall during the first few hours.”

“Ah, I wish some of these puppies had the same foresight to plan like you sweet (Name). Were you able to check on the exhibition?”

A curse almost left your lips, but you covered it with an exasperated groan. You knew you were forgetting something amidst all of the excitement today. “I…completely forgot. My junior members are managing it with the help of some underclassmen though. I trust them, it should be fine…”

Crewel chuckled a bit at your reaction. “Alright. It seemed to coming together when I passed by it about half an hour ago. We should both get going soon. The market’s about to open in a few.”

“Thank you Professor!” You were already dashing to the direction of your stall. “I’ll see you around later!” Crewel waved at you, before turning back to your Vice Dormleader with suspicious eyes.

————————————

Malleus wasn’t very used to this many students crowding the school grounds during this hour. It made him a bit dizzy, having avoided crowds and people in general due to the students’ perceptions of him, but he tamped that feeling down with his bubbling excitement. A small smile adorned his lips when he remembered his last experience at your art exhibitions, his expectations for a response for his letter rising steadily at the thought of that magnificent painting currently decorating his dorm wall. Lillia, who walked beside him and Silver, noticed his shift in attitude, grinning a bit in response.

“You seem excited for the winter market, Malleus. Any particular reason why?”

“Yes, I agree with Master Lilia, Young Master! Though you are truly radiant everyday, you are absolutely glowing on this fine day!” Sebek beamed.

Silver nodded. “Hm. I agree with Sebek.”

“I’m merely happy that I am once again able to see the art exhibitions (Name) has organized.”

“Eh?! That human??”

“Oh I didn’t know (Name) was in the art club! That’s certainly exciting, I haven’t been to an art gallery in some years…” Lilia quipped.

“(Name) is actually the president.” Malleus delighted. “I acquired that gargoyle piece at an exhibition organized by them during the cultural festival.”

Silver shot an exasperated look at Sebek, who was trailing a little behind them, mumbling to himself. “Your tastes are admirable, young master. That painting was surely exquisite.”

Lilia tapped his chin. “I agree! I wonder if I can find something similar…”

The market was filled with all sorts of colors, smells, and sounds, brought together in harmony with the sound of laughter and happy chatting among the students. Sebek parted the crowd with a towering glare while Silver trailed behind equipped with a stony look, allowing Malleus and Lilia to scour the market stalls for anything that caught their eyes. Trinkets, jewelry, handcrafted accessories, homemade pastries, and aromatic drinks were quickly exchanged for the seemingly endless madol in Malleus’ pockets. He was glad to be supporting your club activities through his monetary support, but he wanted to find you soon to support you in person. He carefully warmed the cup of spiced cider in his hands, scouring for your presence in the endless line of stalls.

“Ah Malleus! You came!” Once your voice sung from the stall across, and he barely paced his lengthy steps to let the rest of his dorm members to keep up.

“Of course, child of man. You invited me.”

“Ah. I guess that’s true. Wow.” You looked at Silver and Sebek, both adorned with bags upon bags of items. “Lots of shopping I see. Find anything in particular you liked?”

Malleus nodded. “Yes. This spiced cider is just divine. Here” he offered the steaming cup in your hands.”, you must try some. It reminds me of the drink my grandmother used to make during my youth.”

You graciously sipped at the warm drink, feeling the spiced aroma hit your nose. “That’s…really good. Thanks. I bet your grandmother makes a mean spiced cider.” Despite the chaos of today and the loud bustling of the market, when you were Malleus, you felt suspended in time and space by his words and his warmth.

He chuckled. “Indeed she does. Hopefully in the future you’ll be able to try some.” The future? You weren’t very certain what that was, and when you tried to imagine it, you couldn’t conjure any recognizable image despite how hard you tried. Just, darkness. You blew into your cup, staring at the swirling specks of spice in the sweet concoction to ease your mind from that.

“Malleus has been talking about you all morning, you know. He’s excited to see your exhibition.” Lilia tittered “We all are.”

You let out a nervous laughter. “Well, go easy on me. As much as I trust my fellow members and their planning, I haven’t had a chance to see it yet. Rushing around this morning and all. Wow.” You emptied the rest of the cup into your stomach. “This is really good. Thanks again Malleus.”

“Of course, child of man. Your kind is susceptible to all sorts of things, after all. Also.” He rummaged through one of the bags on Silver’s shoulders. “This is for you. Perhaps you can attach it to the device I got you, as I have done with my own.” He handed you small paper bag before showing you his tamagotchi, hanging on it a small waxing crescent moon.

You opened the bag to reveal a small metal keychain of a waning gibbous moon, shining in the sunlight. “Oh Malleus, I couldn’t possibly…” Despite your mind’s immediate objections to the previous gift you fiddled in your hands, you couldn’t help but to warm the metal with the temperature you received from the drink Malleus gave you, brushing your hands on the detailed groves of the charm.

“I insist. It’s akin to what your kind calls “friendship bracelets”, is it not?” You dangled the trinket in the light, adoring how it caught the light in the delicate details of the piece.

You let out a laugh through your stomach. “I guess. Either way, thank you. I’ll cherish it.” The keychain looked a bit strange on the plastic device, but you relished in the feeling of having something matching with Malleus. Friend . You clutched that word deep in your heart, securing it away from the poison that no doubt pumped throughout your body.

“What are you selling here anyways?” Lilia interrupted, raising a vial of Lapid Lazuli into the sky.

“Oh! They’re homemade paints I make sometimes. I have a horde of them back in my room, I figured it was time to let go of some of them.”

“They’re exquisite. I’ve never seen such color before. Your talents know no bounds, (name).” Lilia continued to look through all of the colors, carefully inspecting them in the light, Malleus following his actions in awe.

“Ah no, no. I just have a lot of free time to experiment. Some of them are made with rare materials, so I like to make the most of them as I can, give them the treatment they deserve and all. After all, I’m a Pomefiore student. We specialize in potions, this is just an aspect of it.”

“It’s true, (name). Perhaps you’d be able to make a living off of them one day. “

Ah, this feeling again.

“…Haha. That probably won’t be happening. My parents have a future for me in their company. After I graduate I’ll likely be stopping all of this nonsense and getting into real work. “ you parroted the words your mother spat at you when she found out you were trying your hands in creative pursuits. “So I may as well enjoy the time I have here with it.”

Malleus’ eyes twitched ever so slightly. “Your family…will you be going back during break?” He asked with a tentative expression.

“Yeah. How about you?” You deflected the conversation to him.

“We will be returning to Briar Valley, my home. Duty calls, even being a student here does not give me a break from my responsibilities.”

“That’s unfortunate. I hope at least you’ll be able to get some rest before you return.” You got up to stretch the tension in your back. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you guys from seeing the rest of the market. Have fun!”

Malleus gazed into your eyes with a honeyed look. “I hope you see you at the exhibition later?”

“Of course.” You answered with a smile as warm as his eyes.

A few hours passed quickly after that‒ busying yourself with your own stall, as well as going around to supervise the others just in case. It was truly a holiday miracle that nothing had gone dramatically awry. However, you did seem to notice a shift in the air, with the unusual amount of stares trailing a chilling anxiety down from your spine. What was going on? Oh well, you didn’t really have time to think about that, you had more important matters to take care of.

You walked from your stall, entrusting it to one of your club members, who was so kind as to bring you a small pastry from one of the science club booths. Licking the cinnamon apple filling sticking to your fingers, you headed towards the exhibition, which to your surprise, was very lively. With the strange stares you’ve had all day, you self consciously pulled your hood down, looking upwards for Malleus’ tall head. You rustled the letter in your pocket, brushing your hand against the tamagotchi adored in the present Malleus gifted you earlier. The cold metal that was melting at the heat of your palms gave you a little more bravery to walk closer into the crowd waiting to enter.

“Child of man. Here you are.”

“(Name)! You made it.”

The four Diasmonia students stood in their usual positions, completely parting the crowd with their imposing presence.

“Hey! I was just about to enter, did you guys enjoy the rest of the market?” You were glad to find that in their presence, people swerved out of your way too by default.

“Yes, but it was not as nearly as exciting as this. I look forward to seeing the gallery.” Despite his tranquil demeanor, Malleus could barely contain the energy bouncing in his chest that was threatening to explode if he didn’t find the mystery artist once more.

“Sure, I can actually take you guys through a shortcut. Though it does seem strange that the line is so long…” You stood on the tip of your toes, peering at the lengthy line formed at the entrance of the exhibition.

“Lead the way, president.”

You lead the group, snaking through a side entrance of the small building and into a part of the exhibition space. Malleus instantly gravitated towards one of the paintings, equipping a contemplative look as he inspected each piece. You moved through the gallery this way in silence, appreciating the works of your fellow club members before entering a central space in the building. “Weaving Love and Life into Art”, thin cursive announced on the wall.

“Is this a special exhibition?” Malleus asked.

You tipped your head to the side. “I’m not sure. I encouraged the other third years to take lead in the exhibition this year but I certainly don’t remember planning or hearing about this.” You looked at the mass of people gathering near a painting. “But it seems to be a success so I’m not really complaining.”

“President!”

You whipped your head towards the panicked voice. One of your younger members was furiously signaling you over to come, so you excused yourself from the Diasmonia group. You briefly saw them walking towards a huge crowd near the center of the room, and you quickly pushed the seemingly obscure anxiety down in favor of calming down your club member, who was nearly in tears.

“Are you okay? Deep breaths.” You guided them through a practiced ritual until their erratic breathing was slowed enough to speak coherently.

“I-I didn’t mean to…I really didn’t. I’m so sorry President, I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey” you rubbed your hand on their shoulder, ignoring the growing noise from the crowd. “, it’s okay. Have you ever seen me mad? I couldn’t hurt a fly. It’s alright, now, tell me what happened.”

“I…I was in charge of putting up all the signs for the exhibition. And I-I forgot to put the no photos sign so no one knew people weren’t supposed to take photos and…and…” They clutched their phone to their chest.

“It’s okay. It’s no big deal. A few photos is okay. I should have told the club so everyone was on the same page. It’s okay. We can deal with any repercussions later, though I doubt there will be any.”

“No you don’t understand. I violated your privacy…you specifically have asked for your work to be anonymous and…I’m sorry it was supposed to be a surprise, b-but I ruined it all!”

You quirked your eyebrow at that. What could have possibly given your anonymity away? Sure, your name was on the painting but it wasn’t your full name, and it’s not like people knew your face enough. Or you hoped. Swallowing, you asked “Slow down. What surprise?”

“We wanted to do something special before you left for your fourth year, in honor of all you’ve done for us. So we put up a special section in your name…but we swear! It was intended to be a private thing! But now I’ve ruined it all oh great seven…”

“I mean I appreciate the surprise, but what do you…” your eyes slowly drifted onto the phone they were gripping for dear life, then to the growing crowd around the center of the exhibition. At the center of the mob of flashing lights and phones held high to take a photo of the painting, your painting , you saw Malleus’ tall figure parting the center of the crowd, before stopping and staring at the painting.

Fuck.

You wished for the floor to swallow you whole at this moment, instead, you pulled your hood into yourself, hoping the shadow casted onto your eyes would just consume your body whole like the void in that room. When your ears forcefully adjusted to the chattering going on in the mass, your blood froze.

“Hey they kind of look like that ambassador model representing the D’aramitz products, don’t you think?”

“Yeah! Look at this, someone is already making conspiracies about it!”

Fuck.

Malleus felt like his body was being devoured by the painting, sinking into eternal depths of the boundless, cosmic black, and the golden glow of the hands held together in prayer at the center of the painting. Several more hands of a similar magnificence emerged from the prayer hands, either delicately lacing their hands together in a silent mantra, or surging outwards with a paintbrush in hand. His feet dragged as his chest was pulled towards the painting with an aching pinch at his heart, swallowing in the world of colors hidden in the golden warmth of the hands. Behind them, in a whispered movement, were hands that gently held out their palms towards the ones that flattened the flesh of their palms against each other. Like a delicious melody, the appendages melted against one another, simultaneously becoming each other and making eachother whole‒ and Malleus drank in that honeyed warmth with every nerve on his skin, absorbing it deep in his flesh and bones to etch into his hungry body. When his chest was merely centimeters away from the rough canvas, he gulped down the desire to press his body against the infinite black to be dissolved into the open hands, and instead noticing pretty cursive that made his chest almost collapse from the air he gulped into his lungs.

Find me. ‒ (Name)

This was infinitely worse than you could have imagined your confession for the stranger who left the letter for you to go. Out of all of the anxiety induced scenarios that had mulled in your brain every night, this was utterly out of your mind's comprehension. The blood on your body began to drop to your trembling legs, despite your nearly exploding heart pumping blood into your body with a vigor you’ve never felt before, numbing your body with an icy burn. The surrounding sound began to muffle and tightly constrict around your temples, disorienting you in its off putting bellowing echo that rang through your skull. Your eyes sluggishly drawled its gaze from the ground, rising to Malleus’ gaze that pierced through your body, pulling at your gaze with such intensity that it momentarily created absolute silence in your roaring senses. You felt your feet stutter backwards, the rest of your body moving automatically with it. Run , it told you.

Never had your body moved so quickly. The blood that had previously prickled your fingers surged throughout your arms and legs like boiling heat‒ commanding each muscle in your leg to run run run. You squeezed your eyes shut, in a pathetic attempt to hide from the reality that your body was running like it had never before away from kind eyes and that warmth that would cradle you with such gentleness it burned into your body a loving suffocation so fresh to your body and mind.

Find me, find me, find me.

That mantra that previously swayed you back to normalcy now seared the back of your throat. If you could somehow put your feelings into words, it would be no more than an infant's wail‒ kicking and screaming to go back go back go back, hold me touch me, love me, gods, love me please , no no no give it back to me please. You wanted to feel rage like the sun burning a hole in the sky, rage that split the tendons and flesh in your heart with your bare hands. You wanted to carve out a gaping hole in your body‒ opening it like the gates of blazing hell and reaching inside blood and sinew to drag out something deeper, deeper, and deeper‒ and ensure it's extinction tonight. But no matter the hunger hammering at every nerve of your body‒ you could not swallow that fire and ash at the tip of your tongue, enough for it to let it burn your insides so delectably and cauterize the festering wound within. So, you crawled on the floor like an infant child, cramming your grown body into a small, dark womb, praying that when you were born again, you could have the courage to swallow fire. The darkness cradled you fondly in its arms, opening its mouth to devour.

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Notes:

Anyway reader feels so bad about lying they throw up lmaoo I’m a nervous vomiter I understand but I love lying :) teehee

Also lol kind of accidentally painted Vil/dorm leaders as a RA?? Kinda funny though I imagine this is actually part of their duties at least to an extent

And shared bathrooms??? I think only the dorm leader/vice dorm leader would have their own private bathrooms tbh. Otherwise I think they have a bathroom between every two dorms. There's my Pomefiore bathroom analysis lol

There’s a phrase in my native tongue by Natsume Souseki that translates to “The moon is beautiful tonight”. My culture uses language to measure distance with each other, so outright saying “I love you” isn’t really a thing here. So it was invented to share love as much as our language allows, and I think it shows that you’re not necessarily trying to get rid of the distance that will forever be a part of “knowing” people, but reaching a hand out far enough to express your love. The moon truly is a beautiful motif. I love that bitch so much.

The whole thing about being unable to “break faces” is a reference to autistic masking‒ personally I find it hard under years and years of using masking as a survival mechanism, to unmask. Not even sure I would recognize my face if I could. Also sort of inspired by Confession of a Mask by Mishima Yukio but mostly my experiences

Like I mentioned in the end notes of the last chapter, the motif of hands/Praying Hands would be included in this chapter. The painting I described is based off of Mori's Buddhist hand painting from Blue Period (so good please read/watch). Except I added in the detail about the open palms based on when Malleus offers you a hand and asks if you trust him, because I thought that illustrating that the prayers were being answered via the open palms was an important bit to express. Also didn’t want to outright copy Blue Period lol

“Opening it like the gates of blazing hell” = reference to Mitski’s “Stay Soft” (“Open up your heart like the gates of hell”)

Kinda stole the last part from The Bell Jar, with the whole womb imagery and all. I hope death is as warm and enveloping as a womb

More angst to come >:) prepare to be obliterated

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