#like Shinsha is as old as Dia? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gemificationquirk · 4 years

Text

Houseki Family Overview

Kiiro ( 黄色 ) *** Mun: [open slot] ***

Age: 32 (Relatvely) || 25 (Physically)

Height: 5′6.5″ (169 cm) || Blood Type: —

Birthday: Nov. 22 || Zodiac: Sagittarius (Scorpio-Sagittarius Cusp)

Occupation: Preschool Teacher

Biological Gender: Male

Quirk: Gemification – Diamond (Yellow)

Special Gem Feature: Enhanced Speed

Summarized Overview:

Your average, stereotypical eldest child. Also the second mother figure.

The best babysitter and caretaker. They love being just as cheerful as children.

Is just about as mature yet rambunctious as their mother.

Much more intricate than they let on.

Dia ( ダイヤ ) *** Mun: Embi ***

Age: 30 (Relatively) || 15 (Physically)

Height: 5′5″ (165 cm) || Blood Type: —

Birthday: Apr. 2 || Zodiac: Aries

Biological Gender: Male || Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, He/Him/His

Occupation: Sidekick Hero

Hero Name: Diamond, the Reflective Hero

Quirk: Gemification – Diamond (Pure)

Special Gem Feature: High Light Dispersion

Summarized Overview:

Kind and often feminine in behavior.

The most brittle of all the Diamond-classified siblings.

Very envious of and is often scolded by Yoru when it comes to hero work.

Despite this, they cherish Yoru the most.

Rudy ( ルヂ ) *** Mun: [open slot] ***

Age: 28 (Relatively) || 24 (Physically)

Height: 5′7″ (170 cm) || Blood Type: A

Birthday: May 21 || Zodiac: Gemini (Taurus-Gemini Cusp)

Biological Gender: Female

Occupation: Quirk Specialist (Gemification)

Quirk: Gemification – Rutile

Special Gem Feature: Dual Colored Properties

Summarized Overview:

Very passionate with their work. Also very passionate in the surgical field.

Calm, collected, down-to-earth, while also eccentric and sarcastic.

Judging by how they still need to eat, Rudy isn’t entirely turned to a gem, but at least has both their head and heart gem-ified.

Yoru ( 夜 ) *** Mun: [open slot] ***

Age: 22 (Relatively) || 22 (Physically)

Height: 5′8.5″ (174 cm) || Blood Type: —

Birthday: May 15 || Zodiac: Taurus

Biological Gender: Female

Occupation: Rookie Hero

Hero Name: Bort, the Black Diamond Hero

Quirk: Gemification – Diamond (Bort)

Special Gem Feature: Enhanced Durability

Summarized Overview:

A person of few words. Unless something about you ticks them off. Then they’re very blunt and straightforward with you.

Very compassionate for someone with a harsh & stoic personality.

The only one who calls Dia either Didi or Onii-chan.

One weakness: cute things.

Fears that Dia will one day completely shatter themself beyond saving, which explains why they’re very harsh towards Dia.

Shin ( 心 ) *** Mun: Embi ***

Age: 21

Height: 5'6.14″ (168 cm) || Blood Type: Quicksilver

Birthday: Dec. 25 || Zodiac: Capricorn

Biological Gender: Male

Occupation: ?????

Alias: Shinsha ( 辰砂 )

Quirk: Gemification – Cinnabar

Special Gem Feature: Quicksilver Manipulation

Summarized Overview:

Quiet and observant. They act cold, but in truth they’re just extremely lonely and loathsome.

More afraid of themself than you are of them. They only act on self-defense.

Their Quirk-imbued blood will inexhaustibly continue to emit itself out from their body even outside of control. This makes staying in one place dangerous.

Hasn’t come home since their 2nd year in middle school.

Awaits the day when they can finally die.

Satsuki ( さつき ) & Seiichi ( せいいち ) *** Mun: [open slot] ***

Age: 14

Height: 4′8″ (142 cm) || Blood Type: B

Birthday: February 18 || Zodiac: Aquarius (Aquarius/Pisces Cusp)

Biological Gender: Female (Satsuki) / Male (Seiichi)

Occupation: 3rd-Year Middle School Students

Quirk: Gemification — Amethyst

Special Gem Feature: Japan Law Twinning

Summarized Overview:

Seiichi is the one whose left eye is covered, while Satsuki is the one whose right eye is covered.

For some reason, they both can’t seem to handle being apart from each other for too long.

They seem to have some dislikes about one another. Fights between them never seem to last more than a day, though.

They like to bash their heads together just to make their other siblings cringe.

NPC’s

Shinichi Houseki ( 宝石慎 ) — Father

Age: 60

Height: 5′8″ (173 cm) || Blood Type: A

Birthday: March 15 || Zodiac: Pisces

Occupation: A Loving House-Husband

Quirk: Keratineral (Transformation/Hybrid-type Quirk)

Allows the user to replicate any minerals they consume and segregate them specifically if in composites in their hair/nails (ie. nails can be different minerals, strands of hair being individually different minerals). Apparently, minerals have particular flavors in them for these users.

First Impressions Bio:

A very gentle, loving father, and also a meek pushover of a husband.Is often requested help by police enforcer with determining fake jewelries.His favorite pastime is drinking tea while enjoying the breeze.Happens to be very tidy, which is probably the bane of his existence seeing how much of a handful Piko can be.Tries to keep his posture as straight as possible to keep his tall figure. When he slouches, he magically shaves off like 3 inches.

Patema Yamamoto ( 山本パテマ ) — Mother

Age: 57

Height: 5′4″ (163 cm) || Blood Type: B

Birthday: June 20 || Zodiac: Gemini (Gemini/Cancer Cusp)

Occupation: Pro Hero [Retired]

Hero Name: Gemma, the Crystallizing Hero

Quirk: Crystal Blood (Transformation/Hybrid-type Quirk)

Allows the user to turn their blood into crystals so long as they can first expose it to cold air to harden it. This can be used to their advantage in weapon-making when playing with temperature, but the user will have to consider risk of blood loss. Once the blood hardens, it is detached from the body and can neither melt nor be molded otherwise.

First Impressions Bio:

Rather hearty and spunky for someone who’s at least a half-century old.

Don’t bring up her age. She’ll still fight you.

Desperate for grandchildren.

Is adept in doing the nice & friendly mom exterior while giving your unfortunate limb the death grip. Godspeed to your limb.

#blog info #info #i #about the muse(s)#about #muses #muse #a #m #overview

0 notes

starrylumiki · 5 years

Text

My top gems

This came with a lot of tears

1. Cinnabar (my beautiful poisonous smart emo baby. Watched the anime and fell head over heels in love. I love cinnaphos still but tbh whatever it takes to make them happy)

2. Phos (sad baby. Wronged baby. God I hope they get themselves together and everyone else better start treating them well if they do)

3. Ghost (I MISS THEM I didn’t really love cairngorm even when they first appeared because I really love this smart quiet baby. Respect them)

4. Antarc ( say it with me: they. Deserved. Better. The only character that never did anything wrong ever)

5. Padparadscha (cares abt phos always a first and doesn’t give a fuck abt anything at the same time a true icon)

6. Dia (a cutie I relate to their problems too much. my first favorite, loved them since the first manga)

7. Rutile (not feral rutile tho, the old rutile is such a loving figure to the gems fight me )

8. Lapis (you’re so prettyyy and I like their smartness but their manipulation tendencies)

9. Bort (protective, saved gems lives many times and watching Shinsha rn)

10. Yellow (god can they just be happy again)

11. Euclase (the only earth gem being reasonable )

12. Nepti (underated, I kind of love that they don’t speak and are so cryptic it’s funny )

0 notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Text

Heal

So, @rinboz has been feeding me Hozier songs lately. while i cant say im fully converted to the irish jesus’ gospel, im definitely digging the angst and that’s how this little oneshot was born.

It features broke Phos and Shinsha moving in together, Phos struggling with phantom pain and new prosthetics and a lot of fluff. Hope you’ll like it!

word count: 1352 notes: Cinnaphos, human AU, hurt/comfort

Phos could hear the clattering of plates and mugs coming from the kitchen, where Cinnabar had disappeared no less than ten minutes ago with a promise of coffee.

By the number of curses, Phos wagered that Shinsha was fighting against some ancient metallic dragon that went by the name ‘unpacking’— and that they were currently losing.

Phos would offer some help, but they knew they would be kicked out of the room without a second word.

So they took in a breath, ignoring the electrical feeling of small, shooting lightning bolts that was beginning to creep up the arms they no longer had. They focused on the guitar. They held it closer to their chest using their shoulders, hovering over it. Hugging things, they were finding, was the way to go with prosthetics.

With pursed lips, Phos let their right thumb brush tentatively across the strings, ignoring the pain. It was almost funny; their hand was of the same material of a very fancy pick.

The music came out in awkward waves, overlapping with the metallic clang of pots and the distinctive sound of cutlery being launched into the sink.

Phos focused again, trying to count the time with their foot.

Their phantom fingers burned as if they had been running across the strings for hours, and it did feel like running, like Phos was chasing after the beats but their body just wouldn’t respond. They felt their hands move at the right time, if they closed their eyes Phos could even see them, but the sound that came out of the guitar never matched. The strumming was either too slow or too fast, tinny, Phos’ hand stumbling, falling at the end of each repetition like dead weight.

Phos clenched their fist, grumbling when their fingers managed to curl on themselves only after the frustration had begun to dissolve.

Their fretting hand hurt around the neck of the guitar, and its angle wasn’t even correct. Their fingers pressed down strings and fret indistinctly, rigid, impossibly slow. They wouldn’t keep up with Phos’ commands and Phos felt like their head was about to explode from the strain.

Phos swallowed a lump of anxiety.

They could do this. It had barely been a couple of months, these things took time. Hell, they could hold a guitar at least. They were technically hugging it with what little remained of their upper arms, true, but it had to count for something.

They tried humming the chorus, halving the time, waiting for their fingers to press down a string, then the other, quivering over the length of the neck until they had a full chord. They strummed again. It sounded horrible.

They considered blaming it on the instrument, but it would still be Phos’ fault: there was no way they would be able to tune it, not now.

Holding their breath, Phos stumbled their hand over the strings again, and again, trying to at least have it move in unison with their frustration when it wouldn’t with the music. A dead lump of carbon fibers, foreign, cold, lagging, weighing Phos down, mocking them— and yet their wrist hurt as if it was being twisted and stabbed, their fingers bleeding from burst blisters, throbbing with pain from the thousands of notes Phos was not playing. Their shoulders were sore already and they hadn’t even finished a single stanza.

Phos’ vision was becoming blurred. They gulped down again, their chest tight.

Suddenly, they felt the warmth of lips kissing the top of their head and a pair of arms hugging them from behind.

“This sucks,” Phos breathed out, almost laughing when they realized the hoarseness of their own voice. They wanted to wipe their eyes, but if they let go of the guitar it would again take them ten minutes to position it correctly.

“I can’t even play a chord,” it came out as dull as Phos wanted it to sound.

“I know,” Cinnabar mumbled against their back.

They held Phos tighter, running their fingers in soft circles around Phos’ shoulders, caressing their arms, gliding over scars. They placed another kiss on Phos’ shoulder, just slightly above the point where skin and metal met, then on their cheek. “It’s gonna be okay,” they said.

Phos sniffled, releasing some tension from their back. “Yeah,” they mumbled, trying to convince themselves.

Cinnabar shifted, unwrapping their arms from Phos’ back. Phos regretted the lack of warmth until Cinnabar joined them on the couch, nestling between Phos and their guitar. They leaned their head on Phos, caressing their fingers with rapt interest.

“I can’t play,” Cinnabar mumbled eventually, “have no idea what a chord looks like. You’re still better than me?”

Phos scoffed, but couldn’t find enough heart to come up with a reply.

The seconds began to stretch again, until Cinnabar, with the playfulness of a cat, entwined their fingers with Phos’ and started tapping their laced hands against the guitar body.

“What are you doing?” Phos asked.

“Music.”

“What about coffee?”

“Shush, I’m onto something,” Cinnabar said before slamming their hands against the wood with a little more force.

“Ouch,” Phos flinched, “that hurt,” and it did, even if it shouldn't have.

“Sorry.”

Cinnabar stopped, running their thumb over Phos’ prosthetic hand as if lost in thought. Then they brought it to their lips, kissing it better.

“Here,” they said, “You’re a big baby,”

“You knew that already.”

“Yes,” Cinnabar admitted, “Guess I have a thing for idiots.”

“Oof.”

With a soft hum, Cinnabar snuggled closer to Phos, resuming their tapping. They seemed to have found some sort of rhythm, a sharp cadence, dense with pauses, that Cinnabar accompanied with a low humming.

Phos recognized the song a second before Cinnabar started mumbling the words. They tried to follow, tapping their other hand on the neck of the guitar and finding that, despite the pain, they could keep up with the some of the beats.

“Lay me gently in the cold dark earth,” Cinnabar mumbled.

“No grave… can hold my body down,” Phos followed, tapping against the wood.

“I’ll crawl home to her... hmm-m. Hmm-m.”

“You forgot the rest of the song,” Phos wagered.

Cinnabar pouted.

“No.”

Phos’ free hand moved on its own accord and went to poke Shinsha’s cheek.

There was no way Cinnabar didn’t see it coming, with the fatigued seconds it took Phos’ fingers to curl up and for the index to stretch. And yet Cinnabar didn’t move, nor did they make any comment about Phos’ hand being too cold or lacking grace.

“Kitty,” Phos said.

“‘M not.”

“You’re pouting again.”

“‘M not.”

Phos chuckled, kissing Cinnabar’s forehead

“Thanks,” they mumbled.

Cinnabar turned their head ever so slightly, enough to catch Phos’ lips in a soft kiss.

“Anytime,” they smiled, and then they picked up the guitar from Phos’ hands and placed it on the floor so they could snuggle closer, hugging Phos’ chest.

Phos rested their head on top of Cinnabar’s, lost in the moment. They gazed lazily at the room with half-lidded eyes, drinking in the sight of used cardboard boxes and bare walls as if seeing them for the first time.

A house. A home. It smelled of cheap paint, old wood, burnt coffee, it smelled of Cinnabar.

There was something scary about beginnings, even for someone who thrived in novelty like Phos, and yet here they were. But it would be okay. They could still feel Cinnabar’s arms around their chest, feel their warmth, smell the unusual presence of shampoo on their hair. That hadn’t changed. It would be okay, eventually. Phos could relearn to play and to write and to do other things. And maybe it wouldn’t work out, but they could pick up new things to learn. Maybe the drums. Cinnabar would definitely love the noise.

“Shinsha?”

“Mh?” Cinnabar mumbled against their chest.

“Is it burnt coffee I smell?”

Cinnabar groaned, furrowing their brows.

“Let it burn.”

Phos chuckled, holding Cinnabar closer. They hoped they would still have a kitchen after a week of Cinnabar cooking their meals, but to hell with that. They could always beg Dia for food.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #fic tag #boi a lot of songs went into this #more or less half of my cinnaphos playlist #and lots of research too ofc #theres room for improvement but at lest its soft?#if youre writing shinsha as anything different than a feline hobo youre doing it wrong #ichikawa told me

31 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Link

summary: Cinnaphos iwanttobelieve, 1960s AU, slow burn. Unhurried burn. We stopped for a ten-minute break and now it’s been 5 years burn. but hey, i can see a spark? a tiny little spark??

hello fellow deceased rock enthusiasts. ‘tis i, your friendly local ghost, here to deliver... FLUFF!

okay, not quite but kinda. cute things. nice things. pretty things. take this, chapter 77 so, thanks @lapishead for betaeing this and enjoy!

After Diamond left, Phos excused themselves as well, saving Cinnabar from the awkwardness of being the one to end the conversation. If it were up to them, they’d probably never leave that table continuing to ruminate on possible questions to ask Phos-─ half waiting to muster enough courage to mumble them out loud and half-expecting Phos to read Cinnabar’s thoughts and answer them by themselves.

Cinnabar’s mind moved back and forth over the following days, relentlessly, in an effort to remember exact words and gestures, recall inflections and posture of a subtlety that they might have missed. Their mind supplied unhelpful distortions where it could find no evidence, until Cinnabar’s social performance had become a miserable, offensive attempt.

Their words had been too strong or not strong at all, harsh when they should have been soft, weak where they should have been asserting. Did they look at Phos too much or too little? Did they show the correct amount of empathy? Had they been sufficiently sorry, but still resentful enough to show Phos that they had not been forgiven simply because Antarcticite passed away? And what did Dia get out of Cinnabar’s conversation with Phos? What did they think, what could they infer? What did Cinnabar want Diamond to infer?

Thousands of small, insignificant thoughts gnawed each at Cinnabar’s self with tiny, unpainful bites. And yet, the sum of all of those bites was eating away Cinnabar’s resolution from the inside, tearing apart the handful of certainties that Cinnabar had left. They had spent five years trying to hate both Phos and Antarcticite, and it had all been for nothing. It made Cinnabar feel like the most pathetic of assholes.

Was it okay to hope that Phos would open up about Antarc and about their past with Cinnabar? Or would this make Cinnabar a pushover? Or a fake friend who was only curious about the mystery that surrounded Phos? They wished they could help, even after everything, but they didn’t know if it was their place to.

Following their thread of thoughts, Cinnabar had almost reached the gate of the institute. A small crowd of family and acquaintances was gathered in front of the building, all people that Euclase had skillfully assembled to help in the preparations for Bort’s party. Cinnabar noticed that most of them had come with bags and groceries, which only added the anxiety of being empty-handed to Cinnabar’s trail of worries.

A few heads nodded as they spotted Cinnabar approaching, waving them good-morning. Cinnabar held their attention only until they recognized Diamond’s face, next to Jade, then they cast their gaze to the ground and made their way toward them quickly, holding their breath as they skirted through the crowd.

“Is it true? Phos is really coming?” Jade greeted them. Diamond could easily have answered their question and Cinnabar kept wondering why other people thought of Cinnabar as the number one Phos-facts’ source. They brushed a lock of hair behind their ear, avoiding Jade’s eyes.

“Mhm,” they nodded, reminding themselves to unclench their jaw.

“Wow. It’s been... wow, it’s been so long.”

“Isn’t it great?” Diamond’s enthusiasm still gave no signs of wavering.

“Ugh, to be honest they made such a mess last time. My back still hurts remembering all the tables I had to clean up.”

“I’m pretty sure we all helped,” Euclase joined the conversation, resting their hand on Jade’s shoulder. They were wearing a floral shawl wrapped around their head, holding their thick, distinctive bunch of keys in their other hand. They graced Cinnabar and Diamond with a smile and greeted everyone else with pride.

As Euclase walked to the gate and opened it with the confidence that comes from habit, Cinnabar felt as if their body was shrinking under the weight of everyone’s gazes and expectations.

The institute was calling them back, with its comfortable, prepacked routines. A trail of identical days and experiences still tied tightly around Cinnabar’s wrists like old ropes. Too soft to be a chain, they were like lax, comfortable shackles, made so that it would be easy to shake them off, then feel guilty about leaving them behind.

As Cinnabar crossed the rusted threshold to the small courtyard, they could feel the gaze of the dormitories looming over them. A three-story building with tidy, squared windows and severe walls of grey-blue plaster. With each step, Cinnabar was walking deeper in a limbo of memories, in a house that used to be home and that was urging them back with fond resentment. It reminded Cinnabar that they had no place to be here today. They had left, much like Phos, but the institute could welcome them back mercifully, Cinnabar only needed bow their head low enough.

The bushes of sleeping hydrangea, the dull, tiled path to the gym, the soft chitchat of other people, intermingled with Euclase’s crystalline laugh, were a foggy, distant echo of regrets. Cinnabar noticed that they had been twisting and scratching their fingers only when they felt Diamond’s hand on their shoulder, a warm presence that the institute’s aura would quickly swallow.

“Let’s go to the gym,” Diamond offered and Cinnabar nodded out of reflex.

As they ran their eyes around, they noticed that half of the people had already disappeared; Euclase had probably recruited them for kitchen duty.

The largest room in the complex, the gym had long since been consecrated the chosen location for parties and gatherings. It was among the oldest buildings in town, a remnant of the Regime, and the only part of the institute that Sensei didn’t build. Its high ceilings were decorated with ancient flakes of dust and spider webs, weaved when the war broke out, when the place had been converted in a temporary refuge for the wounded.

Fragments of that austerity clung to the thick walls of the gym, like in the way the room would always be cold, even when bursting with activity. This was the case now, as Cinnabar could hear voices and directions bouncing off the walls of the gym in echoes that reverberated through the entire institute. Even if the spider webs had long been accepted as integral part of the building, it didn’t mean that the floor and windows weren’t in need of cleaning.

Yet, most of the noise was coming from the metallic choir of chairs and tables being picked up and arranged in symmetric compositions. Sphene was in charge of directing this loud orchestra while Jade, sleeved rolled up and hair tied in a ponytail, took on themselves most of the heavy job, lifting and moving around pieces of furniture as Sphene saw fit.

As the chilly humidity of the gym clung to Cinnabar’s coat, they realized that they had been hanging around like a misplaced piece of furniture, out of synch with the frantic rhythm of the people around them. It was all too familiar.

Diamond took hold of Cinnabar’s arm just as the umpteenth existential crisis climbed its way up Cinnabar’s consciousness.

“Geez, look at the mess those tiles are. Will you help me fetch a broom and a rag? How can Sphene hope to arrange the tables like this? Did they even clean them? I’d never place a cake on top of them, no no, Bort’s gonna hate it.”

Mixing complaints with detailed plans about the party and how they were going to help, Diamond dragged a dazed Cinnabar down the high-ceilinged corridors of the dormitories, the echoes of their shoes on the tiled floor getting lost in the cacophony of voices and activities. Cinnabar was wracking their mind to come up with something they could help with. Something quiet and that wouldn’t be physically demanding and that they could preferably do alone and unsupervised.

Dia was already offering a terrified Cinnabar a broom when, out of desperation, Cinnabar thought of telling them they’d help Red Beryl with the decorations. No amount of glue and glitter in their hair would be worse than have everyone judge them creeping their way back into the group. Or be forced to clean. Yet, Euclase’s voice cut them off their plans.

“Shinsha, can you help us with the potatoes?”

“Wha-“

“Aw, looks like someone needs you more than me,” Dia complained, “I’m gonna go ask Benito, I think I saw them around. See you, dear,” and, waving a goodbye, Diamond ran back to the gym, leaving their friend to drag their way into the kitchen.

The clanging of pots and pans filled the room, just like the smell of tomatoes and onions would do in a couple of hours. The first wafts of warm air were raising from the old stove in wood-scented, invisible spirals, a welcomed change from the cold of the gym.

With small steps, Cinnabar walked into the kitchen, careful not to cross anyone’s gaze, and waited for Euclase to notice their presence. At least they would give Cinnabar’s hands something else to do than twisting and scratching.

“Hey,” and of course the first person to notice Cinnabar would be Phosphophyllite.

They were carrying a huge pot in their arms, shoulders curved under the weight, and if Cinnabar had not been so uselessly surprised, they’d offer some help.

“Oh, Shinsha, here you are,” Euclase finally made their appearance. They put their hand on Phos’ shoulder, in a possessive gesture that the height difference between them made funny. “Hope you’re doing well, dear. We really need a couple more hands to peel and cut the potatoes, Phos is already taking care of the sweets, aren’t you dear?”

“Well, I, uh, I haven’t done anything yet.”

Euclase chuckled.

“Then let’s get to work. I’ll bring you the knives.”

Cinnabar went to pick up a box of potatoes, their eyes following Phos as the younger one put down the pot and began to gather the ingredients to make a dough.

Euclase had turned on the radio and they were humming a soft tune as they worked and Zircon and Morga had joined them. Cinnabar still felt like an off-key chord, so they kept their mouth shut, but they nonetheless dragged the potatoes to the same table Phos was working at. As they sat down, they noticed that Euclase had placed the knives exactly there, as if they had known.

Phos was eerily silent. They weren’t singing, they weren’t focusing on anything else that wasn’t the dough, their eyes forcefully cast downwards, as if the whole kitchen could catch on fire if they barely crossed Cinnabar’s gaze.

Phos’ arms were still clothed and now they were white up to their elbow, sticky pieces of dough and egg dangling from the fabric of their shirt. Yet, as nervous as they looked, Phos’ hands were stirring the mixture with energetic confidence, in smooth, precise motions. It was hypnotic almost, completely different from the way Phos used to be and from the way Cinnabar still was, Cinnabar realized eyeing the potato they had been torturing for five minutes.

“You’re good,” they mumbled, more out of fairness than to break the ice.

Phos looked struck.

“Oh, thanks. It’s nothing, really.”

“When did you learn?”

Phos shrugged.

“Practice, I guess.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just relaxing.”

Phos’ cheeks dimpled in a soft smile, which Cinnabar mimicked. Somehow, the silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as usual.

An hour and no more than two potatoes later, the first batch of cookies was done and Cinnabar, despite the high levels of social activity, was still alive.

The kitchen’s air had become a bizarre concoction of sweet and sour smells that spanned from the tomato sauce still on the stove to the umpteenth jam tart.

Cinnabar wasn’t sure they liked the smell, they thought as they munched on a milk cookie, but it was warm and not unpleasant. They even smiled in Zircon’s general direction as a sign of appreciation, portioning the sweet in impossibly small bites just to keep their mind occupied.

Euclase on the other hand was ecstatic. They looked like they were floating rather than walking, their feet never resting on the same spot more than a couple of seconds. Like an experienced conductor, they would direct everyone’s activities until they flew together in seamless harmony.

Even when they left the kitchen to supervise those in gym, Euclase’s presence never really left the room. Maybe it was in the way the music coming from the radio still filled the bubbles of silences that arose when Nepti or little Morga had nothing more to say. Maybe it was in the way Zircon’s attitude mimicked Euc’s perfectly. Cinnabar reprimanded themselves for never noticing: Zircon would even put their hands on their hips with the same constructed gentleness of Euclase.

Small talk soon filled the room with its unobtrusive presence. Like Cinnabar had expected, most of the questions and the comments were directed at Phos and Phos dodged them all with artistry. Cinnabar wondered if the others knew about Antarc or how much Euclase had filled them in on Phos’ past. Judging by the number of sheepish smiles and whispered comments, everyone knew. It was the same brand of fakeness that Cinnabar had been trying to run away from.

It made Cinnabar’s heart sink, especially when they looked back at Phos and absorbed the way their hands and eyes would be focused on work, as if they didn’t care, as if other people could never reach them through the bubble that they had created for themselves. Phos must know too that they were the talk of town and somehow they had accepted it with a smile.

Rolling down the sleeves of their flowered chemise, Euclase waltzed back inside the kitchen. Their eyes gleamed with a new question for Phosphophyllite.

“Oh, dear,” they began, “I can’t begin to imagine what we’d have done today without you. You’re such a dear, you should really come by more often. Actually, why don’t we set up your room again? I’m sure everyone’ll be so happy to have you back.”

From their position right in front of Phos, Cinnabar could notice the way Phos’ hands tightened around their spoon.

“Oh, that’s so… nice, thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“Which reminds me,” Euc ventured further, coming closer, “you still haven’t told us where you’re staying.”

Cinnabar’s eyes darted to Phos’ face, along with everyone else’s. Cinnabar would lie if they didn’t admit their own curiosity, but once again Phos didn’t answer, which left Euclase to soften the edges of a heavy silence with more words.

“I’m just worried,” they said holding a hand to their chest, “are you okay? Do you need anything? Is there anything we can do for you?”

This time, Phos offered Euclase one of those soft, distant smiles Cinnabar was becoming used to.

“I’m fine,” they said.

Euclase placed their hand on top of Phos’ shoulder, like they had done a few hours ago.

“We’re here for you, okay? I just want you to know that. We’ll always be here for you.”

A chorus of soft approvals and smiles seconded Euc’s words and Cinnabar thought that Phos looked relieved for the smallest second.

Phos nodded, smiling with more conviction than before.

“Thanks, guys,” they said.

One potato at a time, everyone retired. Some went back to their rooms in the dorms, others went back home or just around town, to spend some more time together. Only Euclase, Jade and Diamond lingered to tidy up. When Phos insisted to help, they shushed them off and shoved them out of the building in a chorus of polite pleasantries.

Cinnabar had no idea why they had waited until Phos was leaving to come back home. Sometime between Dia’s cleaning frenzy and Euc’s speech, they must have elected Phos as their designated buddy to cling onto.

The sky had darkened to a gloomy blue and the air was chilly. It pricked at Cinnabar’s nose like mint, humid and fresh like the season that had just begun. Cinnabar breathed in deeply, reveling in the fact that they were still alive, that their clothes would smell of onion for days, and that it was okay. To their surprise, they realized that they weren’t in a bad mood.

Phos was shoving their hands inside their coat with affected emphasis, as if noticing just now that Cinnabar and them were alone together. They had the eyes of a lost puppy, which was relatable, and they followed Cinnabar in silence as they made their way past the gate with slow, quiet steps.

The first stars were peeping through a soft curtain of clouds and the metal of the gate was a comfortable presence behind Cinnabar’s back. It was like the institute had spit them out, refusing them but also letting them go, free to live as they pleased.

Phos’ goodbye interrupted their train of thoughts.

“Thanks for coming,” Phos said, “I’m sorry I made you but it was… nice. I mean, I had fun and I hope you didn’t hate it and you’re not too angry with me.”

“’twas okay,” Cinnabar mumbled.

Phos raised their shoulders sheepishly.

“That’s good then, I’m happy,” they smiled. “I should be going, I’ll leave you be.”

Cinnabar looked at them, then at the pebbles that crowded the sidewalk behind Phos and that had suddenly acquired incredibly interesting shapes and colors. Rather than exhausted, Cinnabar found out that the day had made them braver. They shoved their hands inside their pockets, tightening their fists.

“Walk me home?” they said.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #fic tag #1960s au

20 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Link

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alexandrite, Yellow Diamond Summary: When 19 yo Cinnabar thought of giving Phos their heart, 16 yo Phos left them to move to another town with Antarcticite. 5 years and a lifetime later, Phos makes a sudden comeback into Cinnabar’s life, helping both of them realize that running away from your problems is grossly overrated.

A/N: nnngh I can’t believe I’m finally posting this, a huge thank you to @lapishead for betareading this and to @enfphos for their patience and adorable support. Enjoy!

Just a little more.

Cinnabar kept filling all the spaces in their mind with those words, trying not to leave any room for complaints. They were clinging to the hope that, if they persisted in telling themselves that they were almost done, the words would magically start sounding true rather than repetitive. It was a cognitive thing, Alex had told Cinnabar once.

Almost done.

Cinnabar’s mind must be extraordinarily stubborn, but at least the mantra had kept them from overthinking. As a form of cognitive gratitude, they repeated those words a final time as they picked up the last cardboard box from Euclase’s car. Then they reverted back to cursing their own physical form as they panted and puffed their way up the entrance steps and then, finally, collapsed on the bare mattress as soon as they stepped foot inside their new home.

The box followed them happily, bouncing on the bed along with Cinnabar and raining its contents on top of them and all around the room. Cinnabar paid it no mind. Objects were supposed to go missing in any respectable move.

Basking in the validation that they got from the newfound chaos, Cinnabar shifted their attention to the ceiling above them. It took them a couple of seconds to decide that it was judging the incompetent way Cinnabar had carried their boxes and that it would keep judging as Cinnabar unpacked. One more reason not to start now. Even the wall knew that Cinnabar was just the pale imitation of the previous tenant, but Cinnabar had resigned to mediocrity a long time ago.

It was a nice ceiling, they supposed, white, freshly painted, and with the distinctive sand-looking roughness that characterized most things in this town. Then Cinnabar’s eyes narrowed and spotted one single black dot that was singlehandedly ruining the pristine whiteness. Bort would totally blame them for it.

Awesome.

“May I? Oh, you are done already,” Diamond’s head peeked out from behind the bedroom’s door. Their smile betrayed just the faintest disappointment for not being able to linger any further.

“Mh-h,” Cinnabar answered, still contemplating Bort’s rage. Then they remembered to let out a small, whispered “thanks,” in exchange for Diamond’s help.

“Would you like a hand unpacking? You just need ask if you do. We’d all be happy to come over, I can call Benito and Ame, we’ll be done super fast.”

“I’ll do it myself,” Cinnabar mumbled, terrified by the perspective.

“Of course,” Diamond offered them another eloquent smile. No one had been happy when Cinnabar mentioned moving out of the school dormitory. Diamond especially had not been happy when they learned that the only reason was that Bort would be moving out as well, leaving their small apartment empty for Cinnabar to occupy.

Diamond’s fingers traveled along the doorframe with delicate interest, as if following a fond memory or searching for one.

“Did my little sibling call, yet?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Dia’s eyes got tangled in a mysterious web of memories that lay just below the surface of the wood. When they shifted their gaze to the ceiling, Cinnabar expected them to point out the insignificant black spot too. “It’s been a while. They’re probably very busy with the new school and everything. I’m sure they will call. No need to be worried, they’ll be fine. They’re always fine. Bort is such a responsible cutie.”

A weak “of course,” was all the sympathy Cinnabar managed to offer. Even when threading carefully among sibling rivalries and unresolved conflicts, the truth was that they would miss Bort too.

Without Bort, Cinnabar would probably lack both a place to call their own and a sense of independence. They were afraid that their newly discovered sense of self would crumble like a sand castle in a couple of days without Bort’s cement-strong pragmatism to keep it in place. Therefore, Cinnabar made a mental note to find some courage to call their friend before the castle collapsed. Bort had already done them the favor of providing the apartment with a phone, so Cinnabar could return the courtesy by sparing Dia the awkwardness of calling their sibling first. One of these days. In the near future. Eventually.

“Yeah,” Dia nodded again, more to convince themselves than Cinnabar, equally hurt and relieved by knowing their little sibling was hundreds of kilometers away. “And what about my Shinsha, will you be okay, dear? Don’t you think you’ll feel alone all by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m here, you can still… call, or drop by, I guess… it’s okay.”

“Of course, I’d love to. And I really need to bring you some flowers, this place needs waaay more colors, wouldn’t that be cute?.”

“Okay.”

Diamond giggled at Cinnabar’s lack of interest.

“You can tell me I’m being silly. Stupid, little, apprehensive Dia. I’ll shut up, no more talking, no no,” they admonished themselves. “So, I guess I should be going now…”

Cinnabar didn’t answer. Diamond picked up their coat from the chair next to Bort’s bed, their eyes lingering on the cardboard boxes and clothes lazily scattered around the room.

“I’m gonna miss you a little, I know it’s still the same,” they hurried to add, “but just a little bit, a tiny little bit,” they chuckled, “alright. I’ll see you around, bye-bye, Shinsha.”

“Bye.”

Diamond gave one last look at the room, their eyes finally noticing the tiny dot that had ruined the flawlessness of the ceiling all by itself. They knew, too, that Bort would hate it.

Diamond smiled.

Then they waved goodbye to their friend again and walked out of Cinnabar’s apartment.

—

Diamond was right when they said it would still be the same. That was exactly one of the reasons Cinnabar was terrified it would all come crumbling down.

Bort’s apartment was little more than one block away from the dormitories of the institute, which meant that Cinnabar would still stumble upon friends and family anytime they went to the library, ventured outside to buy groceries, or simply decided to take a walk. They would still meet familiar faces every day at work.

Bort’s apartment was the farthest Cinnabar could presently dare to get from everything, and yet it was barely any distance at all. It should be pathetic that it had still taken Cinnabar five whole years to get to this point. And that they were still tempted to throw it all away the second Bort’s train disappeared behind the horizon. Bort was wrong in believing that Cinnabar’s confidence needed more careful patching up. It needed to be rebuilt from scratch altogether.

Cinnabar’s best days were the ones when they would woke up and feeling bitter about it. When the desire for a stable sense of self was something they cared enough to miss. But most days they were just hungry for isolation. The company of old, useless memories still more appreciated than that of the present.

The pebbles of the road crunched under Cinnabar’s feet as they walked to the library. It was hot, irritatingly hot for a late summer day. Cinnabar should have tied their hair up and slowed their pace. Each extra movement was an admission of weakness against the supremacy of the heat.

For as much as Cinnabar hated cleaning, the fact that Bort had trusted them with an apartment to care for was nothing short of a miracle. And it said something about Bort’s excessive optimism toward Cinnabar. Cinnabar was not sure what was most surreal between leaving the dorms and have someone blindly believe in them.

As they pushed open the library’s front door, Cinnabar made a reluctant mental note to find the strength to unpack at least one or two boxes before going to bed. Looking at those boxes had a mysterious, therapeutic effect on Cinnabar’s mind, an illusion of productivity, a sign that something new and exciting was still happening. As long as at least one cardboard box was still around, the apartment would still be getting used to Cinnabar’s presence. And it would be easier to leave.

“G’ morning,” they signaled their presence, closing the door behind them.

“Hello, hello! My, did you time me? I was just about to leave,” Alexandrite’s energetic voice greeted them in the midst of their hurried chaos, “Papers are on my desk, books must be re-shelved, dust is piling up everywhere, this place looks more and more like a tomb with each passing day, but isn’t that fascinating? Gosh, just like a good old expedition down south, we should all visit Greece one of these days. Very informative. Very hot, as well. Always bring a hat. But do leave the dust, atmosphere is always important, people who complain can do so in my face.”

“Alright.”

Picking up equally fundamental objects from completely different parts of the room, Alexandrite’s storm quickly approached Cinnabar, briskly retrieving the last missing items— a summer coat and a hat— from the hanger behind Cinnabar’s shoulders. Cinnabar drew back carefully, on the verge of losing balance.

“Late, late, late,” Alex chanted as they hurriedly put on the coat, despite the temperature outside, fighting to keep in balance the absurd amount of papers and notes that they were holding to their chest. Cinnabar reached forward in a timid attempt to help, which Alex, in their hurry, failed to notice.

“Goddammit, I need more hands.”

“Need a bag or something?”

“Nature gave me arms so I could use them.”

Cinnabar’s mouth twitched, any further remark concerning Alex’s clothing would be disregarded in the name of eccentricity— or of pleasing a wide fanbase of young, curious students. Even retired academicians had expectations to live up to.

“Laaate,” Alex chanted one last time when they finally managed to put an arm in the correct hole of the coat, the papers still precariously squished against their chest. “Alright, I’m off. Take care of the place for me.”

“Don’t kill any kid.”

“Ah! I’ll try,” and then Lexi stormed out of the door, a couple of sheets of paper following after them, as late as their author.

Cinnabar mused for a second whether to catch them while Alex was still in earshot. Instead, they observed the papers’ silent fall until gravity reduced them to unresponsive leaflets. Then Cinnabar picked them up and walked back inside to put them on the front desk. Golden puffs of dust welcomed them on the wood.

Just like an old tomb.

—

Cinnabar didn’t make a habit to eavesdrop on other people in the library. No matter how loud the words, arguments and gossip just flowed away from their mind in a stream of lazy disinterest. It was one of the reasons Jade had stopped asking them to collaborate in the newspaper. Library news was lost to Cinnabar’s attention.

And yet, today’s buzz had managed to dig itself a small, tiny hole in Cinnabar’s mind. Scattered words and sentences made them uneasy, bits and pieces connecting to old images that Cinnabar had repressed years ago and only dug up when they felt like self-loathing.

They shouldn’t care, they knew better than to care again, but memories of a coach lazily departing from town crawled their way to the surface of Cinnabar’s consciousness.

It was so easy to remember the salt from the sea itching Cinnabar’s nostrils, the way the fresh breeze of that morning had dried cold tears on their cheeks. Several people had gathered in the piazza to watch that coach leave, waving, lingering, wishing they could leave too.

Cinnabar had climbed up to the last terrace of the lighthouse, breathing in the dawn and despising themselves for looking down at the piazza, too, still incredulous at what was happening. A part of them had even tried to spot a glimpse of teal hair through a windowpane, but the coach was too far gone already. The vehicle disappeared in the fog without noticing Cinnabar’s presence.

They still thought about that day, from time to time. It still felt like a surreal, bad dream. They wondered what had happened to a specific couple of passengers, and they still commiserated themselves for not being able to wish misfortunes on other people.

Cinnabar shouldn’t care anymore, but those voices had dusted off old aches and now it was hard to bury them again.

In an attempt to distract themselves, Cinnabar focused on the ridiculous amount of papers that they were carrying, because of course Alex had fallen behind on grading tests. And, since the thought of more work was not enough, they resolved to stop by Euclase’s shop as well, hoping that the familiar anxiety from social interactions would drown any other preoccupation.

Euclase’s grocery store was almost exactly halfway between Cinnabar’s new house and the school. It sat at the intersection of the town’s main road and the long, meandering street that led to the sea. The little shop was just one story tall but occupied every square centimeters with conscious pride, aware of its position at the very heart of the city.

The silvery chant of a wind chimes welcomed Cinnabar as they pushed open the door. It was almost closing time and the setting sun bathed the ambience in the sepia immobility of a photograph. Even Euclase was lost in the peachy hues that clothed the evening. Seated in contemplation behind the cash desk, they gave the impression of dozing off in a coat of warm sunlight.

At the sound of the wind chimes, Euclase turned their head immediately, waking up from their dream. Cinnabar offered a small nod as greeting.

“Oh, hi, Shinsha. I wasn’t expecting you. Can I do something for you?”

Cinnabar’s heart took a dull leap at the mention of not being expected. They breathed in a small gulp of evening.

“I’m just… stopping by, I guess…”

“Of course, of course. How are you, dear? Are you alright?”

Cinnabar nodded, but only when Euclase’s eyes widened in surprise did they realize that Euc’s question had not been mere politeness.

“That’s good, I’m glad, really.”

With quick precision, Cinnabar’s mind enumerated and evaluated all the things that could be wrong with Cinnabar or that Euclase might be concerned about. Their heart made another leap as anxiety washed over them.

“What’s up?”

“So you don’t know yet…” Euclase murmured and Cinnabar’s pulse quickened as they thought about the buzz that they had heard in the library that morning.

They wanted to walk to the cash desk, slam their hands on the counter and ask for explanations, or maybe storm out of the shop like the mature person they were, but their feet were cowardly glued to the ground, surrounded by warm, sticky sunlight.

“Is it about the apartment?” they asked, but they already knew the answer. Euclase shook their head no.

“Now, what I’m about to say might upset you,” they began, walking toward Cinnabar with a sweet, motherly smile plastered on their face, “but please, I’m sure we can find a way to deal with this. I know it’s going to be alright-“

Halfway through Euclase’s speech, Cinnabar had spaced out. If this were Sensei instead of Euclase, he would have patted Cinnabar’s head, offering a gentle smile. But Euclase was not Sensei, no matter how much they tried to walk in his steps. They just stood in front of Cinnabar, smiling, mindful not to hug or touch them, ready to deliver the blow with artfully coated sincerity.

“-there must be a reason why Phos is back in town and the least we can do is offer our support and our love. I’m sure we can all get along again as a family-“

Cinnabar’s throat was heavy, as if something was stuck inside of it and refused to be swallowed. As if someone had sat on Cinnabar’s ribcage, pushing all the air out of their lungs, and Cinnabar wanted to cry, had to cry, but couldn’t.

“So they come back, now…” they murmured.

“Yes,” Euclase seconded them, happy to see a reaction from Cinnabar’s side, “Phos has come back home.”

way to end chap 1 on a cliffhanger, but thank you so much for reading to this point! I’ll be super happy if you give this AU a chance: I poured my soul into this story and I love how it came out. I’m shooting for weekly chaps, but we’ll see how that goes. In the meantime let me know what you think of this: any kind of feedback is great!

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #phosphophyllite #1960s au #fic tag

51 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Note

that post about dia and shinsha.. does that mean their old "selves" swapped personalities like morga and goshe?

can you imagine a sour, emo Dia and a cute, huggy Shinsha? this is basically a reverse!au at this point

#diamond #cinnabar #Anonymous

31 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Link

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow

A/N: in which we meet the other half of Cinnabar’s not quite huge friend’s list. Ty so much to @lapishead for betareading my commas away and to @rinboz for her help with Bort’s character. Enjoy!

The thought of going home and accidentally stumbling into Phos on the way persuaded Cinnabar to linger on the beach. They hadn’t meant to, but at a certain point their body surrendered to exhaustion and they fell asleep on the sand, crouched against one of the boats that the fishermen left on the shore. It was their voices that woke Cinnabar up, a little before dawn, and Cinnabar would have apologized profusely if their mind wasn’t still absorbed by other thoughts.

Now that the realization had sunk in, Cinnabar felt even more lost. They tried to come up with alternatives as the town grew nearer, a blur of sparse lights and white buildings. The only thing they felt absolutely sure about was that they wanted to shut themselves in their new home until Phos had left again. With nothing to do except overthink and go through old textbooks, they would graduate in no time if this went on long enough.

Cinnabar was worrying their third cup of coffee in their hands when they accepted that their fingers would not stop shaking just because they were safe in the confined space of Bort’s bedroom. And an excess of caffeine hardly had something to do with it. Outside or inside, it made no difference: their mind would not stop working.

They remembered so many mornings lazily spent on Diamond’s bed when Phos was fourteen. Bort would be crouched at the foot of the bed, holding a book, and Dia would braid their hair in complicated plaits, trying out every trick they had gleaned from being around Red Beryl. They would hum and sing as they ran their fingers through Bort’s hair, and Cinnabar would listen quietly, curled up on their own bed.

It was always so peaceful and silent. Cinnabar would keep their eyes closed, pretending to sleep while waiting for Phos to wake up. The ungracious sound of their feet running through the corridor was hard to miss, but Cinnabar would have traded high school one hundred times more just to hear it.

Yellow Diamond had warned them against easy decisions, and Cinnabar could blame no one but themselves for obsessing over someone that had considered Cinnabar temporary. And yet, every foggy morning spent waiting for the train, every hour spent sitting on hard desks, surrounded by people Cinnabar did not know and didn’t want to know, left a dull, cold ache in Cinnabar’s chest. The taste of wasting time that could otherwise been spent in selfish, childish ways.

The light that filtered through the shutters of Bort’s room was suddenly eerily similar to how the sun would caress Cinnabar’s old room at the dormitory, just a moment before Phos walked into the room to snuggle beside them. The wallpaper too was similar, with its peachy, little flowers: the more Cinnabar looked at it, the more alike it became. If they closed their eyes, their mind would make Cinnabar believe that Phos could burst in the room at any moment.

Cinnabar’s fingers clutched the cup tightly, almost spilling its contents. They needed to talk with someone.

They ran their eyes around the room, looking for an excuse not to do it. Their gaze was met by cardboard boxes and clothes, half-read books and scribbled papers. Along with the white ceiling, their newly-moved in possessions had started to judge Cinnabar’s unpacking plans, or lack thereof. It was too much work just for the sake of running away from anxiety.

Cinnabar ran a hand through their hair, debated about washing it when their fingers hit a snag in the middle, discarded even this task as too demanding, stared at the wall for a solid minute and then stood up. They walked to the telephone and placed the handset to their ear to make a call. Their chest was thumping. They truly hoped that Bort would answer because Cinnabar did not know if they could muster enough desperation to call them again later.

The mid-ranged pitch of the dial tone filled Cinnabar’s ears as they waited for the Naval Academy’s secretary to connect the call to their friend. Cinnabar held their breath, their fingers torturing the telephone’s cord. Bort was the kind of person to be home on a Sunday morning, but what did Cinnabar know.

“Yes?” and then Bort’s voice reached Cinnabar from the other side of the country and Shinsha felt guilty for being so annoying and insecure, but they still let out a breath of relief.

“It’s me…”

“Shinsha? Something’s up?”

“No, how’re you doing? How’s school there?”

“It’s okay. Tight schedule.”

Of course it would be; some people dared make plans for the future and then work to make them a reality.

“Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m here to learn.”

“Okay.”

“So, what’s up?”

“What’s up with what?” Cinnabar twisted the cord around their finger once more. Their grip was so tight it almost hurt.

“You calling. Is it Dia? Are they… okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Good.”

A couple of seconds was all it would take Bort to inquire about Cinnabar again, so they forced themselves to keep talking.

“I moved in.”

“Oh, good. How did it go?”

“Good, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Clean up every other day, you promised.”

Ugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’m coming back for my birthday.”

“Fine, I’ll try.”

“Good.”

A few seconds elapsed and Bort’s pragmatism focused its attention back before Cinnabar could pile up the courage to hang up the phone.

“Something’s up,” they pronounced their verdict.

“Nothing’s up.”

“You wouldn’t call if nothing’s up.”

“Well, I just did.”

“I can drag it out of you, I don’t mind.”

Suddenly the thought of speaking with Bort only to have someone agree with them was no longer that appealing. Cinnabar stayed silent for a few seconds, still debating whether to tell their friend or not. Then they pushed the words past their lips.

“Guess who’s back…”

“What?”

“Back. Guess who’s back after five fucking years.”

“Wh-“ a pause, the time for Bort’s voice to betray emotion, “for real?”

“Yeah.”

“What do they want? Did you talk?”

“Hell if I know, and no, we didn’t and it’s great this way.”

“Are they out of their mind? Was Antarc there?”

There was a line of disbelief in the way Bort pronounced Antarcticite’s name. Back then, they had taken a strong liking to Antarc’s interests and it was Antarc who had inspired them to pursue a career in the military. While Bort had still judged biased Phos’ rushed choices, they had never been able to be angry at Antarc for what happened. As much as they were trying to keep their interest in check for Cinnabar’s sake, it still showed.

“Euc says they’re alone. I don’t know, I don’t wanna know.”

The line went silent once more. Cinnabar could hear the gears turning in Bort’s mind as their younger friend thought of something worth saying, settling for the simple efficiency of silence when nothing valuable came up. Bort was the person you turned to when you needed a swift solution, not comfort, but Cinnabar’s list of friends was thin.

“Are you okay?” they finally asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel. I shouldn’t even feel anything, it’s just… Phos-level bullshit all over again, why should I care... I know where this is going, it’s always the same, it’s stupid, and I don’t wanna- but I still do… I still care anyway. Like, it’s affecting me, I’m stupid. Please tell me I shouldn’t care, hit me with a stick or something.”

“Don’t self-deprecate your way out of this. What’s exactly the problem?”

“Phos is my problem!”

“Shinsha!”

Cinnabar pinched the bridge of their nose, feeling older and more bitter than their years. The exhaustion from a night spent outdoors like an emotionally wrecked vagrant was washing over them in waves of anger and disillusion, leaving Cinnabar more drained each time it pulled back.

“It’s my fault,” they murmured, “I’m afraid. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I still… I think about it cause I’m stupid and now they’re back, like… it’s them again. They’re right here. What do you think they want? Do they wanna talk? Why now? How dare they… and it’s my fault because I’m still thinking about it, I just… I wish they’d go away. I wish they’d disappear, that I’d disappear, I don’t wanna see where this is going.”

“You don’t owe them anything, Shinsha. Ignore them. They didn’t even apologize. I don’t want you to be caught up in that again. Just leave them be.”

“Isn’t that childish?”

“Phos is childish. They up and leave and now they’re back. They’re unreliable.”

“But what if there’s a reason, why do you think they came back?”

“Because they’re bored. Probably not even Antarc could stand it. They played their little games, messed something up so now they come back like a kicked puppy. And they’re still arrogant about it.”

“Yeah…” this too was familiar. Bort’s rage, the way they described Phos, Phos’ mistakes. The remnants of some old instinct were telling Cinnabar they should defend Phos and Cinnabar almost did because Bort was being harsh, fueling Cinnabar’s desire for anger to the point of spilling it- and Cinnabar was unprepared to deal with the excess of emotion. It left a bitter taste in their mouth.

“They leave, they disappear, they come back. Don’t let this get to your head, you did nothing wrong.”

“Okay.”

“And I… I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Cinnabar nodded, as if Bort could see them from the other side of the phone and of the country. They sounded like a numb, obedient puppy and it was so pathetic that they were tempted to hang the phone again and spare Bort the spectacle.

“Alright. I’ll send you my timetable, pass it around. Just don’t call me when I’m busy. Especially Euc. I can’t spend all my time at the phone.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m coming back for my birthday, I have a leave. I can show you the uniform…”

“Cool, I’d love that.”

The line went silent for a moment, leaving Bort the time to recover from the embarrassment of opening up.

“Ask Dia to help you clean up, they’re better than you at least.”

“Thanks.”

“Talk to you soon.”

“See ya,” and, with a click, Bort hung up and the line went silent again. It took Cinnabar a moment to realize that they had been left with the burden of dropping the news that Bort would be visiting to Dia.

They let themselves fall on the bed with a loud groan, feeling the first pangs of a headache crawling their way through Cinnabar’s consciousness. They could always hope that one worry would drive away the other.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #phosphophyllite #bort #fic tag #1960s au

26 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Link

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow

A/N: Happy v-day! Time for an old acquaintance to finally show up, I wonder who they might be. As always, ty to @lapishead for betareading this chapter so i could put it up today. Enjoy!

As it turned out, Dia hadn’t known that Phos was back in town. Now they had a lot of opinions about it and, in the name of friendship, they proceeded to instruct Cinnabar about them in detail. It was just a couple of days after Cinnabar had talked with Euclase, way too early to recover from the excess of social interactions.

At least, the painful conversation included tea and cookies. The tea had soon turned cold, but the cookies had been especially good. Zircon’s recipe, Dia said, before they began to illustrate a few of their opinions about Zircon as well. When Diamond got to the topic of how Zircon’s talent was wasted at Yellow’s kennel and about how they should really think of opening a bakery, Cinnabar had stopped listening.

Yet, the majority of Dia’s opinions had concerned the town’s most recent hot news and Cinnabar thought it ironic, if not sad, that Dia had managed to unknowingly suggest that Shinsha do the exact opposite of the advice Bort had given.

Many of Diamond’s words were coming straight from projection, from an idyllic mental place where family members and friends were miraculously mature. A world where people could give each other a second chance without a fear of being torn to pieces by hurt. A world of people that fought for affection because they had accepted how precious it was.

Even as Cinnabar mulled over Dia’s words, they could taste a similar sense of regret. As with any philosophy, it sounded great in theory, as if it was the only possible way to look at the world, but it crumbled to nothingness the moment you tried to put it into practice, crashing against the wall of reality. Or Cinnabar’s thick fortification of insecurities.

It felt like the umpteenth failure and in a second they were aware of their own loneliness again.

They remembered that Diamond must be feeling lonely too, now, having lost both Bort and a roommate in such a short time. It called for some sympathy, but Cinnabar had no intentions of moving back in, not when they had managed to unpack one box.

It still made Cinnabar feel guilty, though, so they resolved for awkwardly patting Dia’s shoulder, as if Cinnabar had not been the one to look for comfort between the two of them. In the process, they might or might not have dropped the news that Bort was coming over in a month; not the best change of topic.

Dia had a unique way of looking dreadfully relieved though their smile didn’t quite reach their eyes. The worst thing was that it made Cinnabar project again and, as they walked back home, their mind suggested that maybe they should be a mature person and work on their issues with Phos.

It was nothing more than an intrusive thought and it only made Cinnabar’s chest tighten with more resentment. So they shoved their hands inside their pockets, praying for the universe to finally grant their wish of disappearing.

Thankfully, the beginning of the academic year did wonders for Cinnabar’s overthinking. Alexandrite too did their best to find new and tedious occupations to fill Cinnabar’s days with- like reorganizing the whole archive alphabetically. A wondrously pointless job that kept Cinnabar’s mind busy with names and dates for two whole weeks, at the end of which they remembered they had still to get their hands on this year’s textbooks for university.

The feat turned out to be harder than expected. Even though Cinnabar was still a second year student, some of their books could not be found in Alexandrite’s endless supply of academic texts. So Lexi offered to contact a few old acquaintances in the capital and have the manuals shipped.

That took a couple more weeks, during which Cinnabar alternated between feeling anxious about old blue haired acquaintances and the fact that their academic career was at a standstill. When Lexi finally told them that the books had arrived and Cinnabar realized that they had still not run into Phos, they processed it as a double miracle. Maybe the idiot had left again for good.

After their adventurous journey to Cinnabar’s small town, the books finally landed at the post office, a small building with light blue walls not too far from Peridot and Sphene’s laboratory, in the city’s Old Town.

The old town was an antique cluster of old buildings and ruins perched on a rocky hill, at the edge of the modern town, overlooking the sea. Here, bushes of brambles and nettles sprouted intrepidly in between bricks of tuff, crumbling them with inexorable indolence. It gave the atmosphere a powdery, earthy feel and made the old town look like a medieval village, even if the whole city was little more than a century old.

The streets especially smelled like history and folktales, with their rows and claustrophobic narrowness. They went up and down, curving at impossible angles, opening over hidden courtyards, offering shelter to stray cats and children playing hide and seek. And there were parapets from which you could face the sea and part of the town below, letting the dusty wind blow between your hair and fill your lungs with its tales.

This part of the city had been the most damaged by the war, a large number of buildings had been abandoned, hollow ghosts to remember the families that had lived within their walls. It was one of the reasons Cinnabar and the others did not venture up here often. Those who wanted to rebuild, would do so in the new town.

Halfway through their ascent, the road became too steep to keep riding and Cinnabar dismounted from their bicycle. It would be hard to carry it around after they had picked up their books, so Cinnabar left it behind and proceeded afoot. Once their arms were full of manuals, they thanked their past self for their thoughtfulness.

Cinnabar could not keep their mouth from twitching. They felt a little uneasy about the time lost, but studying differential equations would at least give Cinnabar a good justification for staying awake at night.

They turned another corner and the road opened on one of the old town’s parapets. It was a small semicircular square hovering over the modern town, over the part with the institute and the dormitories where Cinnabar had grown up.

Someone was leaning on the solid rock bricks of the parapet. They were looking below as if lost in thought, a jacket lay forgotten to their right. Their arms extended over the stone and it seemed like their gaze was fixed where the institute would be. It took a few second for Cinnabar to recognize them.

Phosphophyllite decided to turn their head in that exact moment, as if reacting to the weight of Cinnabar’s stare.

Their hair was the first thing Cinnabar noticed. It was shorter, darker. Time slowed down, Cinnabar couldn’t take their eyes off Phos, trying to retrace old familiarity beneath the person that was standing in front of them now, categorizing differences and memories until the idea of Phos clicked in their mind and the whole world around Cinnabar seemed to shift and spin.

Phos was looking at them too now. Their mind was retracing the same route of Cinnabar’s, registering the way their face had changed, their skirt, their books, their hair. The way Cinnabar was looking at them as if they wanted to run away but their feet had been glued to the ground, becoming one with the stone. The pieces fell into place much sooner: Cinnabar’s appearance had not changed that much.

All of a sudden, time resumed its regular flow. Phos’ hands left the parapet, they straightened their back, their lips parted and then closed again, they extended their arm towards Cinnabar in an attempt to reach them.

Cinnabar took one step backwards. They watched Phos stare back at them; they felt dizzy and nauseated again, just like when Euclase told them that Phosphophyllite was back in town. Their ears rang and had Phos been able to speak, they wouldn’t have heard a single word.

They took a second step backwards, their feet finally remembering how to move. They took one step, carefully, as if they could lose balance and precipitate in whatever void had opened around them.

Phos was still looking at them, immobile. Cinnabar cast their gaze to the ground and took another step, then another as they quickly walked away from Phos and from the piazza.

---

It felt unreal. The way Phos had been standing, their face, the way they were looking at the town. How dared they? How dared they walk among the ruins like that? How dared they come back after throwing everyone away?

Cinnabar felt so stupid for caring, for being angry. But how could they not when everyone else seemed perfectly fine with what Phos had done? Alex had taught Phos all they knew, Dia, Zircon and Bort had been their friends since they were too little to pronounce their own name. Sensei, Euclase, Yellow, Jade, everyone. Phos had thrown all of them away like it didn’t matter.

Wetness was prickling at the corner of Cinnabar’s eyes, the wind hitting their face and drying away tears before they could form. They pedaled faster, running down the road that led away from the old town. They only wanted to run, to rush, to get away.

How could Phos be so selfish? How could Cinnabar be so stupid?

They had cared, they had clung to the hope that Phos would come back, that they would write or call, that they would remember their promise. That Cinnabar was still important for them. And now the time to remember that was up.

They had met by chance. Phos had not even come looking for them. They didn’t matter anymore, and they should have known and they should be okay with that. They should have found other things to care about.

Looking so openly fragile, depending on someone else’s attention to feel good and valued was just pathetic.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #phosphophyllite #1960s au #fic tag

23 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Link

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow Summary: after disappearing for 5 years, Phos makes a sudden comeback into their old friend Cinnabar’s life. Both of them will realize soon that running away from your problems is grossly overrated.

A/N: we didn't get a chap75, what are you talking about? The only angst I know is Shinsha being emo about Phos, so have a whole chapter of that! (a huge ty again to @lapishead for betareading this)

Cinnabar was thankful for the curtain of red hair that protected their face from Euclase’s scrutiny. They could already feel wetness piling up at the corners of their eyes. They cast their gaze to the ground, looking at the floor without seeing. In the meantinem, Euclase kept enumerating all the good reasons why this was not the end of the world and everything would be awesome- eventually.

The word ‘family’ especially stuck to Cinnabar’s mind, with its empty do-goodism. Euclase had always been resolute about preserving a façade of selfless acceptance of each other’s differences; it was a fight toward group harmony, almost a violent pursuit for cohesion. Euc was happy about this. It was in the way their mouth twitched with the satisfaction of being proven right whenever they mentioned the words ‘Phos’ and ‘home’ in the same sentence.

It was understandable. Euclase had been, along with Cinnabar, one of the most vehemently opposed when Phos had decided to leave town, five years ago.

The fragility of Euclase’s games of social equilibrium had showed itself the second an old acquaintance of the institute showed up again. All it took to shatter the family was one Antarcticite and one stupid resolution on Phos’ part. Phosphophyllite had always been a wild card but not even Euclase had expected them to take that unexplainable a liking to someone.

Cinnabar had retraced the hazy, foreign steps that had led to Phos and Antarc’s departure many times during the years. They could still see it clearly, the way Phos’ eyes had shone the first time they saw Antarc, at the station. Chryso’s little cousin was clad in a white, creamy coat, their shoulders squared and their chin up, in a performance of confidence betrayed by the unquiet way Antarcticite’s eyes darted around the crowd until they narrowed on Sensei and on Alexandrite.

Phos had always loved tagging along with older people, it was the reason they had approached Cinnabar in the first place, when Phos was still a six year-old venturing among the classrooms of senior students. It was an initiation rite that Phos had bestowed on themselves, as if they were hoping to catch a glimpse of something extraordinary and forbidden, but the only thing little Phos found in those classrooms were annoyed orphans, upper-classmates who had no time to spare for a kid, and Cinnabar. Somebody who always had too much time on their hands but that had been perfectly content with using it to mull over their own thoughts.

It had always been a mystery for Cinnabar how Phosphophyllite could have decided that Cinnabar was an interesting person to spend their time with. Maybe it had been Alex’s fault when they had made Cinnabar a tutor because Phos was falling behind in half of the school subjects. But Phos’ attention for Cinnabar’s character had been genuine and uncomplicated even back then.

At night, they would randomly burst into Cinnabar and Dia’s room, blabbering nonsense about their day, and during the day they would sit on Cinnabar’s desk before class started. They would pull Cinnabar’s hair playfully and then shout back that it was a pretty color when Cinnabar smacked them. They would fall asleep on Diamond’s bed mumbling that they were still awake, in a mess of tangled sheets and oversized nightgowns, and Cinnabar would let them be.

Before Cinnabar could notice it, they began looking at the teacher with contempt when she ordered Phos came back to their classroom so she could start the lecture. Cinnabar began to look forward to afternoons spent in the library, watching Phos struggle not to stain their paper with ink. When Phos called them Shinsha for the first time, like Diamond, Euclase and the rest of their family, Cinnabar felt their lips twitch in amusement because it was appropriate rather than scary.

It had been a blissful haze of small moments, fit for a small town in a small country. It was more than Cinnabar’s loneliness could ever ask for and it went on for ten domestic, uncomplicated years.

Phos was sixteen when Antarcticite visited. All it took for Cinnabar to realize they had been temporary was three weeks, at the end of which Phos departed with Antarc on a coach on a dull autumn morning.

They told Cinnabar they were going to live with Antarc, in the big city. Cinnabar told them they were crazy. It was the last thing they had said to them. Phosphophyllite didn’t come back to visit after leaving. They did not call or send letters either, not even once in almost five years. And now they were back.

“I don’t care...” Cinnabar heard themselves mumble, trying to wake up from their drowsiness. Euclase stopped talking; something in their posture betrayed the defensiveness with whom they were ready to protect their restored family.

“Don’t say that, dear, I know you’re hurt-“

“And what? I don’t care. Don’t bring me into this.”

“I think you should talk to them. You were always such good friends-“

“Of course you take their side. You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“There’s no reason to be rude. What’s happened has happened, but we should learn from the past so we don’t get hurt again. It is a great chance to start anew, for Phos and for everyone-”

Euclase kept talking in plurals and we’s, they had swept Cinnabar into the eye of the storm long before Cinnabar had a chance to protest. If Euc’s initial intention had been to comfort Cinnabar, their own excitement for a new humanitarian project had suffocated it, reminding Cinnabar, once again, that they had never been a priority and never would be. This too was just temporary. Their family and Euclase’s attentions were mutable like Phos’ resolutions.

But this was fine, Cinnabar had learned to accept it a long time ago and that was the reason they would not be swept into this mess, not even by the tempting taste of a word like ‘we.’

Cinnabar crossed their arms over their chest, crumpling up the papers and tests that Alex had given them to grade. Euclase’s concern for Phos was genuine, maybe even their faith in the future. This was nothing if compared to what Euc had been through twenty, thirty years ago. Cinnabar’s own drama paled in front of the war, they had no reason to complain. The more bitterness and anger piled up inside Cinnabar’s chest, the guiltier they felt.

“I don’t want anything to do with it,” they murmured again, hoping that Euclase would finally accept their refusal. But Euclase’s features betrayed nothing but determination. It made Cinnabar feel trapped, dizzy. This was all too sudden.

The realization that Phos was back in town kept washing over Cinnabar in waves of increasing magnitude. Their old best friend was back, maybe Antarc was too, Phos must have grown, they must have changed, they were back, they could see Cinnabar, they could speak with them, they were back, in the same place, after five years. Maybe Phos had been walking down the same road where the two of them would run barefoot after school just five minutes ago. Maybe they were at the dorms, Cinnabar wasn’t anymore. Maybe they were at Cinnabar’s door.

Cinnabar could have run into Phos that very day. By accident.

The thought made them nauseous.

“I am a little worried, why do you think they came back?” and, while Cinnabar was caught up in their own drama, Euclase had jumped into the next stage of their merciful parent act, asking Cinnabar for sympathy when Cinnabar had no compassion to share even for themselves.

“Could’ve asked them.”

“I didn’t see them. It was Jade, they said Phos was at the hospital. I asked if they were sure and they told me that yes, no doubt, that was Phos. Our Phos. It was really them. They are back. They really are.”

Euclase’s sticky enthusiasm was somehow even more nauseating.

“Yeah, well, why didn’t Jade ask them?”

“It was all very sudden. Jade couldn’t talk to them either. They said they were in Sensei’s room and Jade was downstairs, you see? Just doing their tour of the hospital, for the paper, and then they saw Phos, in Sensei’s window-“

It must be a recent thing, then. Jade would never let news fall deaf on their ears, and Phos was definitely news, of course Jade would be the first to know, of course Euclase would be the second, but where did Cinnabar fit in their schedule? Were they third? Last? Euclase had assumed they knew already. How many people knew, how many people had looked at Cinnabar with sympathy that day because of it?

“They’re seeing things,” but it felt untrue even as Cinnabar muttered it.

“No, no, Sensei said it was Phos, it’s real. He doesn’t know why Phos is back, though, and if he does, he won’t tell.”

“Ask Antarc then…”

“That’s the thing, I think they’re here alone. To tell you the truth, I’m very worried, Shinsha.”

“You’re always worried,” though if Antarcticite wasn’t with Phos, then maybe Phos would leave soon. Cinnabar’s throat was dry, for a moment it felt like suffocating. They were a creature of habit, this was all too sudden, too much, too soon, they did not know how they felt, they needed more time.

“Isn’t it nice? You can help them now, go ask them, speak with them, see if I care, just leave me alone,” they were being rude, and they knew, but Euclase had the eyes of someone who still wanted to talk and Cinnabar couldn’t see any other way out. They tightened their grip around the sheets of paper to hold themselves onto something, to hold themselves in place.

“Shinsha, why are you saying these things?” Euclase raised their hand to reach for Cinnabar’s shoulder in an attempt at reconciliation, but Cinnabar drew back, suddenly very aware of the way their feet had been glued to the ground for long minutes. Once they started moving, they couldn’t stop. They wouldn’t play Euclase’s game. Not now. Not later. They still had themselves and that was more than enough.

They turned their back to Euclase and to the impossibly tidy rows of canned goods and papers that crowded their perfect little shop.

“Leave me be,” their said closing the distance to the entrance door in brusque, hazy steps. Euclase remained silent behind them, partly expecting Cinnabar’s reaction and partly used to their antics.

The sky that awaited Cinnabar outside of the shop was a deep, dark blue, the faintest remnant of white licking the edge of the horizon. Night was falling and Cinnabar kept on walking, their steps crunching on the gravel of the white street that led to the sea.

They didn’t want to think, they wanted to fall asleep and wake up to a day where they would be blissfully alone again. For a second, they thought about the papers they were holding to their chest and how they wanted to throw it all away because work and school and studying sounded so stupid now, because such a little thing as Phos’ return could still mangle Cinnabar’s life as if no time had passed.

The freshly fallen night still offered Cinnabar enough light to catch a glimpse of the lighthouse in the distance, the very place where they had watched Phos leave.

It was ironic. Cinnabar was seventeen when they confided Phos that they wanted to leave this town and that too happened at the lighthouse.

It was before the summer, after an afternoon spent fishing for crabs with the hooks that the anglers would always forget among the rocks. There was something in Phos’ eyes that evening, the confidence that this would not end. Something that made Cinnabar trust them. They had never told anyone about their desire to leave, it would be selfish. But Phos would understand. They had a way of looking effortlessly happy, like they were born not to have a single worry in the world. They made it look so easy that Cinnabar felt that, if they could just look at this miracle of chaotic bliss happen again and again, maybe Cinnabar could start believing in it too.

The sky in front of the old building was a glittering slate of dark water, trying to capture silver drops of moonbeam and failing. An eternal struggle for color.

It was false and it was beautiful, just like Phos’ response that night, when they had laced their fingers with Cinnabar’s and told them they would leave together.

In a flash of rage Cinnabar put their papers to the ground, grabbed a rock and threw it at the water. The rock hit the sea with an insignificant sound and sank into the water. It disappeared in a quiet splash. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #euclase #1960s au #fic tag #i love writing euc but its kinda hard cause no one knows where they stand in canon?#but yay new fic chapter #and ty sm for enjoying the first one #my cold ghost heart is melting i wanna hug everyone

21 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Text

so, since the new chap’s gonna be a hard one i thought about sharing some fluff?

this is from my 1960s fic and it was meant to be phos and shinsha’s first encounter as kids, but then i changed things around and edited out the whole thing. it’s not very good or refined, it’s just cute, but we need nice things so i hope it’s still okay?

“Diaaaa!” the child almost jumped on Diamond, hugging their legs— the highest part of Dia that they could reach. Dia almost lost their balance for the surprise. They caressed Phos’ head, returning the hug.

“Hello, Phos. How are you?”

“I’m super excited! Do you know this is my first day? Do you?”

“I do, I do. Now you’re all grown up, aren’t you?”

“I am! Look!” the child made a small pirouette to show Dia their outfit. They were wearing a dark blue school vest as well. It had once been Diamond’s, and maybe Rutile’s before that. The lace of the collar was a little worn out at the hems, but it had Phos’ name embroidered on it, Red Beryl’s work, and Phos was radiant: the last come in their dorms was finally starting school.

“You look like a very proper student,” Euclase commented. They smiled and offered Phos a small paper bag, “You forgot your lunch.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, why don’t you go and say hello to your new classmates? I’m sure you will make a lot of friends.”

The child looked sheepish at the thought and clung to Euclase’s shirt, “but I’ve already got you and Dia and Sensei, do I really have to?”

“Why, don’t you want more friends your age? There are so many nice people you can meet,” Euc pointed out, but Phos only clung to them with more force, shaking their head no. Euclase chuckled and exchanged a glance with Diamond. Dia crouched next to little Phos and offered them their hand.

“Then I’ll let you meet my friends, they’re very nice. Will you come with Dia, sweetie?”

Albeit with some reluctance, Phos nodded and, accepting Diamond’s hand, they followed them to the entrance door, where a little group of students were waiting for the bell to ring. Euclase waved both of them goodbye, smiling reassuringly to Phos. Usually, they would walk back to their shop after accompanying a kid to school, but today they would wait until the bell rung as well, just like everyone else.

Familiar faces crowded the modest school yard and each time they spotted one of the kids from the dorms, Phos would point them to Dia and ask about Bort or Zircon or the Amethyst twins. They felt a little more confident with each of Dia’s answers to the point that their usual bubbly self started coming through again. When the bell rang and Sensei welcomed new and old students inside for the day’s classes, Phos’ eyes were once more sparkling with excitement.

-----

In just a few months, Phosphophyllite had learned the names and faces of every student, teacher, and professor of the school. It wasn’t a huge institute, but the feat was still amazing for such a small child and, conscious of it, Phos would often recite every name in front of Euclase as if it were a jingle, purposely avoiding all the poems and multiplication tables they could not memorize.

And then one day the child spotted an unknown face— in Dia’s classroom nonetheless— and made it their personal duty to get to the bottom of this mystery.

The mysterious student would often miss class, Phos noticed, and they were usually the first to get to class and the last to get out. Sometimes, Phos would scan every face in the front yard until long after the bell had rung— which would earn them a frown from Sensei or the teachers. Phos would be completely sure that the student would not be there that day, and then they would spot their red hair in the back of Dia’s classroom during recess, like they had been there the whole time.

They didn’t hang out with Dia and the other students, they never talked with anyone except Sensei. They were always alone, and Phos thought about walking in and just talk to them a lot of times. It would be so easy. But something was always holding them back, something about the stranger’s desire for loneliness maybe and how Phos thought they should respect it.

The school year was flying away fast and, late in May, Phosphophyllite decided that they had to talk with the stranger. What if they switched schools or did not pass their exams? Phos would never have a chance to know their name.

The last bell of the day had rung, the halls were empty and unusually silent and Phos decided that today was the day. They put on their best determined face, hands holding tight to the single handle of their satchel. They hoped the mysterious student had not gone home yet.

Phos walked in Dia’s classroom quickly, putting a foot after the other, before self-doubt could make them change their mind. Being in the class of seniors was already making them feel smaller.

But there the stranger was, sitting on a desk in the last row. Their feet were dangling back and forth and they were scribbling something on a small notepad. Their face was completely hidden by their red hair.

If the student noticed Phos’ presence, Phos did not know, because the child’s eyes were glued to the tip of their shoes. With each step they took, Phos’ courage thinned until it disappeared altogether when they stopped right in front of the stranger’s desk.

A few seconds passed by, slow as hours, and Phos’ words were stuck in the back of their throat. What had they been thinking? This student probably did not want to talk with them or with anyone else. Dia had not even mentioned them once, they were probably not an orphan from the dorms and they were older than Phos. What would they care about a tiny six year old like Phos?

Just when Phos thought that this had been one of their stupidest ideas so far, the stranger did something unthinkable.

“Well?”

They spoke.

“What do you want?”

And then spoke again.

Bewilderment overcame fear and, this time, Phos raised their head and looked at them.

They were wearing a dark blue vest similar to Phos’ own. It was worn out and their collar too had a name embroidered on it, but it was cursive and Phos could not read it very well. It was also half-covered by the stranger’s hair. A wild, fiery mane that hid their freckles and their eyes to anyone who wasn’t brave enough to come closer and take a look.

The eyes beneath those red locks were looking at Phos. They were almond-shaped and sharp, of the prettiest reddish brown Phos had ever seen. And they were not hostile, just curious.

The student kept looking at Phosphophyllite, waiting for them to talk, as if giving them space. Phos clutched their satchel with more force. They found their voice again.

“M-my name is Phosphophyllite, from 2-A!” and then, more hesitant, “D-do you want to be my friend?”

#houseki no kuni #fic tag #1960s au #phosphophyllite #cinnabar #just a cute little thing #not very good #just cute #this doesnt fit the 1960s canon anymore thats part of the reason i edited it out #but yeh #hope this still works to counterbalance chap 75 a tiny little bit #stay strong everyone

19 notes · View notes

houseki-no-suffering · 5 years

Note

First of all,,,,how dare you hurt the children *whispers* but tell me your headcanons p w e a s e

adgfh thanks for the interest nonnie. The post i made was about some Antarc hcs from the fic i’m writing so here it is i guess, my

HnK 1960s AU:

(more under the cut cause it gets super long)

- the fic is an historical AU set in the 1960s and 70s in italy, but since most characters are older than that many HCs date back to the 40s and wwii as well

- (most of) the gems live in an Institute that Sensei founded during the last years of the war by using a big building that was built during Fascism and then abandoned/destroyed by the war. Think of the gems as orphans/ppl who found themselves alone after the war or something

- the institute started off as a small thing but then more and more gems came around and it got its own elementary school and even middle school (thanks to Alex), there are dorms, a gym, a big canteen etc.

- the city is super small, it doesn’t even have a train station so the school was a huge help especially cause the place was heavily bombarded cause it’s close to a larger city

- most of the gems that died before the beginning of the series died because of wwii (like Chrysoberyl, Morga and Goshe). Yellow lost most of their friends and Papda got badly injured

- the school is more or less ran by Alex at this point cause Sensei is old and Alex and Chryso moved to this city after the war broke out, cause that’s the city Chryso where was born (and that’s why they knew sensei), also they thought the place would be safer but they were very wrong

- Alex is in their mid forties, around the same age as Padpa, a tiny, bitter academician who had once been famous for their work and that traveled around Europe with Chryso to attend conferences and stuff, and then the war happened and Chryso was snatched away from them in a very tragic way

- after Chryso died, Alex stopped caring about their career and basically resigned. They buried themselves in personal work as a big middle finger to the system and to distract themselves,they fell into severe depression and became completely disillusioned with life, they still have self-destroying outbursts from time to time, Red Beryl usually helps them but if those happen when Alex’s with Yellow then things kind of go for a tangent

- when Alex abandoned academia altogether they became somewhat of an anarchist, they don’t believe in the system anymoreand after battling to get an official high-school for the city and failing, they started teaching evening courses, which are kind of clandestine and very much unrecognized by the state, but fuck the state, let’s teach ppl how to think for themselves and let’s teach people just how much the state sucks

- also they *loved* to hear about 1968 and the cultural revolution and it will be very awkward when they find out Phos was basically in the midst of the storm

- Alex is basically the pillar upon which the whole institute is founded but they are not the headmaster, that role is Euclase’s who is also the treasurer, because Alex can’t deal with bureaucratic stuff for the life of them: they’d bankrupt the school in a fortnight

- Euclase is the second oldest after Yellow, they own the only car of the group and they let everyone borrow it. They walk around with a shawl over their head (because reasons) and a huge bunch of keys: they open and close all of the doors in the institute and when the younger gems are too loud and/or it’s too late in the night they tell them to go to sleep. They always check on everyone, included the gems who no longer sleep in the dorms (like Antarc, Phos, Bort and Cinnabar)

- along with Alex, they are the only other ‘old’ gem who went to uni and they graduated in Statistics or Economics (still haven’t decided), their official job is being a shopkeeper though, they own a small grocery shop near the institute

- Euclase also owns a small radio, the only radio of the group. The first tv arrives when Cinnabar is like 15 and Phos’ 12 and everyone is super excited about it, they place it in the common living room, in the dorms

- speaking of media, Jade runs a newspaper. They are not a journalist, nothing’s really official, but no one cares and they have an excuse to go about town and speak with people. They love the general aesthetic and the smell of ink too but they always wear dark pants to hide the stains.

- Jade is a ‘rolled up sleeves and very long hair in a bun or ponytail’ kind of person. They’re 5-7 years Euclase’s junior and genuinely like Euclase, they spend a lot of time with them. They probably had a crush on them at some point but got over it. Euc is also their main source of information, along with Dia

About the age thing:

- Yellow, Padpa, Euc and Alex (and Chryso) are the oldies, in their mid-forties to early fifties when the story starts and mid-thirties in the flashbacks.

- Jade, Red Beryl, Antarc, Peri and Sphene and Melon are the ‘middle generation,’ they’re up to 10 years younger than the old ppl

- Shinsha, Dia, Nepchi, Benito, the Amethysts, Lapis, Cairn and Ghost are the young ppl, 20 years or so younger than the old ppl

- Phos, Bort, Zircon, new Goshe and new Morga are the actual bbys cause they’re even younger than that. Please handle with care

I DIDNT EVEN START TO SPEAK ABOUT THE MAIN CHARACTERS OR THE ANGST BUT THIS IS ALREADY SUPER LONG SO HERE’S SOME RANDOM STUFF INSTEAD

- Shinsha and Diamond share a birthday, that’s one of the reasons why Shinsha doesn’t celebrate their own bday cause they didnt wanna steal Dia’s spotlight but then they became kind of bitter/passive-aggressive about it

- Zircon is just 6 months Phos’ senior but since Phos is an actual dumbass they are actually 100 years more mature than them

- Dia works at a flower shop, they still live in the dorms tho and so do most of the gems

- except for Bort, who settled in a place of their own and then left to study in a marine military academy cause they are a battle maniac, they left the place to Cinnabar

- Cinnabar has a weird history with school and education but at 19 they decided they actually wanted a diploma and they wanted to get their life together and now they’re in uni and they teach at the institute to earn some money, they’re 26 at the beginning of the story

- Phos went away as well, they tagged along Antarc one time that Antarc came to town cause Phos was quite literally struck by them and would not let them go without them. They were just 16 and a big idiot

- Antarc was Chrysoberyl’s cousin, that’s how they know sensei

- they always dressed in suits and light colors, also they had a thing for keeping their place clean which they passed onto Phos

- Padpa used to be the cool uncle that every kid loved before they could no longer leave the bed, now they’re more or less in a coma and only wake up sporadically

- Yellow and Padpa used to be a couple before Rutile came around, then it became a weird triangle, then a messy polygon, then a very, very weird obsession that eventually led to Rutile studying medicine just so they could obsess over Padpa more

- Yellow decided they were fed up with the world at that point, so they opened a kennel and more or less started spending their days with more puppies and less people or dying lovers

- Bort does help at the kennel whenever they can, yes, Zircon loves to tag along too, they’re good friends

- Dia stopped going with them cause they have a very bad middle-child case

- Zircon can bake

- Cinnabar is studying mathematics

- Phos is 23 when the fic starts and they don’t even have a diploma yet

- oh the town is by the sea and there’s an abandoned lighthouse too because that’s cool

- there is literally 100000 more things i wanna say about Antarc and Phos and Shinsha and all those characters I havent named yet but this is indeed super long and I’m afraid i must end it here for now, maybe I should make a new post for each character

thank you again if you had the patience to go through all of this!

#houseki no kuni #fic tag #1960s au #gosh this is huge #pls ignore any mistakes #theres just so much stuff going on i hope it makes sense somehow #also i love alex can you tell #and i didnt even get to talk about antarc #im verbose im sorry #im a simple nerd #nonnie asks for hcs #i start to ramble

42 notes · View notes