Hello and welcome to the blog I made just to promote the silly stories that I somehow came up with so that I don't spam on my main blog, although it's not like I'm popular there anyway.
The last time I wrote fanfiction was back in 2012 just when I started university. By then, my experience with fanfiction in English (as it's not my first language) was reduced to drabbles or very short ficlets in general with some rough grammar. University sucked the life out of me, so I also stopped reading fiction (both "pro" and fanmade) for pleasure on the regular. So forgive me if my wording isn't very rich, if my descriptions are lacking, or if my flow is awkward. It's been quite a while, as you can see.
I always like to joke that the moment I stopped being 15, I lost the ability to write anything longer than a one-shot --so keep that in mind!
I have many, many ships, but I'll showcase the ones that have meant a lot to me over the years (can't promise I'll actually write a lot of content for them though): Miroku/Sango (InuYasha), Daniel/Charlotte (LOST), Anasui/Jolyne (JJBA), Neville/Hannah (Harry Potter), Wolfwood/Milly (Trigun).
Fandoms, besides the aforementioned, include: X-Men (Comics), the other Rumiko Takahashi works, A Song of Ice and Fire, and whatever I feel like consuming content of.
Some of My Favorite Ways to Describe a Character Whoâs Sick
pressing their forehead into something cool or comfortable (this could be an array of things. the table, the floor, someones leather jacket, their water bottle, the countertop)
warm to the touch, or heat radiating from them (could be noticed if someoneâs gauging their temperature with their hands, hugging them, or just generally touching them)
leaning into peopleâs touch, or just spontaneously leaning on them (like pressing into their hand when someoneâs checking their temp, or just, like, literally walking up and laying their head on them from fatigue. bonus points if the character is usually feral and the other is scared to engageâąïž)
falling asleep all over the place (at the dinner table, on their homework, in the car, in the bathroom â just being so exhausted from doing literally nothing)
being overly emotional (crying over things that donât usually bother them, like their siblings arguing, or their homework, or literally just nothing)
stumbling/careening/staggering into things (the wall, furniture, other people. there is no coordination in feverish brains. running into chairs, hitting the door, falling over the couch, anything and everything)
slurring their words (could be from fatigue or pain. connecting words that shouldnât be connected, murdering all of their conversations with the excessive use of âmmâ and ânnâ in place of words) (this is my favorite thing ever)
being overly touchy (basically like a sick kid â just hold them, please. do that thing where you brush their hair back out of their face, or rub circles on their back, or snuggle them. they wonât care. bonus points if this is also the feral character and they refuse to believe it afterwards)
being extremely resistant to touch (flinching away when they usually donât so someone canât feel the fever, not letting themselves be touched because theyâre so tired they just know theyâll be putty in their hands if they do)
growing aggressive or being extremely rude (itâs a defense mechanism â they feel vulnerable and are afraid of being manipulated or deceived while theyâre ill)
whimpering/whining/groaning (this was in my âcharacters in painâ post but itâs so good that iâm putting it here too. this shite is gold, especially if itâs just an involuntary reaction to their symptoms)
having nightmares caused by a fever and/or delirium (crying and murmuring in their sleep, or being awake but completely out of it and convinced theyâre somewhere else)
making themselves as small as possible (curling up into a ball everywhere they lay, hunching over slightly when standing, wrapping their arms around themselves)
TW for vomiting below cut !!
sleeping in the bathroom floor because they keep getting sick over and over (bonus if someone finds them all weak and pitiful. bonus bonus if they find them there in the morning only to learn theyâve been there all night)
using their hands/other body parts to clamp over their mouth so nothing can come out (like pulling their knees up to their chest and using that, or like, their arm, yâknow) (~maccreadysbaby who has emetophobia suddenly gets very awkward about this post~) (~yes i have a phobia of puke and still write this happening to my characters, shut up~) (~itâs about the hurt/comfort okay~)
sympathy pukers (people who arenât the sick ones but get nauseous/vomit when they see someone else throw up) (~aka me~) (~okay Iâm done now~)
dry heaving (itâs gross, but good for making your characters absolutely freaking miserable)
rolling/churning/spinning/cramping/ lurching and all those awesome words that describe what stomachs do when sick (i hate these words with a deep, fiery passion. but theyâre good for writing or whatever)
Summary: âMy brothers and sisters, let us gather for the season of harvest. It is time to offer to the seas the blood of this fisherman in exchange for immortality.â Yuta crosses paths with a dangerous cult in the Oki district during the 60s. 1604 words.
I feel guilty for forcing myself to finish a one-shot that I had been avoiding for 2 weeks, but considering it's for a very small fandom and that I rarely get any feedback anyway... I don't know, I just want to be able to submit it to whumptober but I feel so self-conscious.
Now, if only I could pull off writing small bits of violence in the next 24 hours...
Today I present you: an unrequited crack pairing I came up with when I was 15yo. This short story was originally written in Spanish and left unpublished in the form of a self-sent email. I decided to release it because why not.
Summary: Ginta watches as his leader marries the she-wolf of his dreams. 477 words. Anime canon.
Not that anyone is reading this, but now that I finally got the magazine fic out of my system, I think it's time to hibernate. I still have a few ideas for a non-mirsan Inuyasha fanfic, a Maison Ikkoku fanfic that might be longer than a one-shot, comicverse!X-Men vignettes, and the two pending fics from the Rumic World Week that I never managed to write because I was physically and emotionally drained.
But I need to rest, watch some series, read some books. I don't know, it's been a weird comeback.
Although I'm a few days late, here's my one and only contribution to MirSan Week 2023 (organized by @loveofmirsan). This is a ridiculous idea I had for a while that somehow never left my mind, so I had to write it down. Oops.
Summary: What does the greatest source of wisdom of the 20th century âa teen magazineâ have to say about Sango and Mirokuâs feelings for each other? Alternatively: Kagome tries her best to convince Sango of what seems so painfully obvious. Set at the very start of the Shiori arc. Rated T as a gimmick.
For Day 5 (alternative prompt list) of @rumicworldweek I wrote about one of my MAO ships. Not entirely sure about the characterization or the flow here, but I like to think I had some fun while writing this!
Summary: As Renji seeks Mei's help to deal with a troubling ailment caused by his previously healed arm, their connection deepens in an unexpected way courtesy of the malignant aura stemming from the kodoku. Spoilers up to MAO Volume 13. 3284 words. Rated T.
For day 4 (alternative prompt list) of @rumicworldweek I committed the crime of transporting a cute romcom/sports couple back into the early Edo period. I apologize for the tonal shift!
Summary: The aftermath of an attack leaves a wandering Kosaku badly injured. Who is the maiden who rescues him and what secret is she hiding? Vaguely set in the first half of the 17th century. 1878 words. Rated T due to historical context implications.
For day 2 of @rumicworldweek I wrote a silly little thing to show my love for one of the many doomed Rumiko Takahashi love rivals out there
Summary: Tsubasa ponders an intriguing change in Sakura and what this means for his love quest. Set post-manga finale. 628 words. Gen.
Read under the cut. Also available on AO3.
The more Rika and Miho chit-chatted beside him, the more Tsubasa Juumonji furrowed his brow. Feigning ignorance, he decided the decades-old exorcism journal he was holding in his hands was more worthy of his attention.
âSakura-chan has been smiling more since she made up with Rokudou-kun, donât you think?â
âI told you! They are so dating, they canât even hide it anymoreâ
And it was this exchange the one that made him finally take his eyes off the carefully annotated instructions on how to create a special blend of holy ashes. He went on to scan the classroom, as he normally did, in search of the object of his affection. Sakura Mamiya was handing the aforementioned redheaded Shinigami an additional bento box. The memory of the recent embrace those two had shared in the Spirit World âas seen through Annette-senseiâs crystal ballâ burned in his mind. Thus, Tsubasa stared intently at the rumored couple, curious to see if the consequences of whatever had happened between them were a threat to his own love story.
His world momentarily sank as he contemplated how the normally stoic Sakura was indeed smiling the sweetest smile he had seen thus far. And she was dedicating that smile to Rinne of all people. He could almost swear heâd noticed a hint of a blush in her perfectly soft-looking cheeks.
But Tsubasa was, of course, a man of logic. This has an easy explanation, he told himself. The additional lunch was at this point a tradition of the friendship between Sakura and the financially broke Rinne Rokudou. And itâs not like the food itself was carefully cooked by Sakura herself, no. Perhaps her mom (age 39) had overdone her cooking portions once again. And the blush? Merely a trick of the mind, a most treacherous doubt that the bumbling Rika and Miho had planted in him with their constant gossiping.
His pulse violently accelerated the moment he noticed Sakura had returned to her normal expression and was staring back at him. He saw her âoh so charmingâ lips moving, muttering an excuse to Rinne as she strode towards the lovestruck exorcist.
âIs there anything wrong, Tsubasa-kun?â He could honestly never grow tired of the way her voice sounded whenever she pronounced his name, no matter the tone she used. Each of the syllables was his own private concerto.
âM-Mamiya-sanâ he initially spouted, a sudden confidence growing in his chest as he came up with a solution to disguise his stalking. âMy father got me an exorcism job downtown this afternoon and I wondered if you wanted to come along, thatâs allâ
âOh, sureâ
And then the smile came back, and with it Tsubasa could feel his heart melting in real time. He failed to notice that this version of her facial expression was subtler âpolite, evenâ compared to the one offered to his rival moments ago. After all, if he could elicit the most exquisite upturn of Sakura Mamiyaâs lips, then Rinne Rokudou wasnât as special as the girlâs friends had claimed.
I still have a shot with Mamiya-san, he internally shouted with glee, both of his fists up in the air. Today weâll go on a date and maybe Iâll get to see more of her adorable smiles!
Or maybe not so internallyâŠ
âJuumonji-kun, you said that out loud. Againâ, he heard an exasperated Rika say.
But Tsubasa Juumonji, young master of Western-style exorcisms (and self-delusions) paid no attention whatsoever. Not even to the stinging pain the tip of one irritated Rinneâs Shinigami scythe was inflicting on his head as he bluntly hit him, nor to the chilly and tight embrace of the long-distance traveling disembodied spirit of one Ayame Sakaki.
There was nothing for him to be worried about in the end.
In celebration of Rumiko Takahashi's birthday and 45 years of her first serialized work, I've decided to give writing fanfiction a chance again after 11 years and participate as much as I can during the event organized by @rumicworldweek
Summary: A happenstance offers a glimpse of things to come to a 12yo Kagome. 842 words. Gen.
Read under the cut. Also available on AO3.
âSis, I canât find Buyoâ a boyish voice whimpered, and Kagome tried her best not to look irritated. Souta was just six years old and lately he had entered a phase in which he couldnât leave the family pet alone.
âThatâs because you pester him all the time!â she protested, regretting it almost instantly when she realized her younger brother was threatening to cry his heart out. âAlright, alright. Iâll get him for you, just stay hereâ
But going around the house, she found no signs of the tri-colored feline. Where on Earth could he have gone to? Kagome hoped the answer didnât lie beyond the grounds of the Higurashi shrine. Another terrifying thought formed in her mind. What if heâs inside the storehouse or that dusty wellhouse Grandpa tells me never to enter?
As she walked towards the patio, she heard the sounds of distressed mewing. With a knot in her throat, she looked around, silently praying she didnât have to investigate the places she had been avoiding for most of her short twelve years of existence.
âOh, there you are!â Kagome sighed, putting her hands on both sides of her waist. Buyo had climbed up atop of the massive sacred tree that had been there for centuries. âSeriously, going all the way up there? Come down, will ya?â
Buyoâs meowing grew even more guttural, and only then Kagome realized it was up to her to retrieve him right in that moment. Her mother was outside running some errands, and her grandfather was at the shrine office, probably busy seeing to potential clients in search of charms to buy.
Narrowing her eyes, she calculated the distance between the ground and the branch where her cat was lying. Now, she was no athletic child, but she faintly remembered being able to climb up a couple of trees when she was around Soutaâs age. Maybe not as big as this one, but she could only try.
With newly found encouragement and abandoning all common sense, she crossed over the small fence that guarded the Goshinboku and sent her outstretched arms forward in order to hug the wide trunk â as the first step for ascension. But the moment her palms came in contact with the wood and the groove carved on it, she froze. With each of her now erratic heartbeats, she saw flashes of light in different colors: vibrant greens, smoldering red, serene silver, shimmering pink.
A humanoid silhouette appeared behind her eyelids, but in her commotion she couldnât make up its features.
Whatâs happening to me? Why do I feel soâŠ?
Still clinging to the lower part of the tree, she suddenly felt one of her sides burning up. A milliard of strange emotions overcame her, her young mind unable to process what any of them truly meant. A few tears inexplicably found their way out of her brown eyes.
Why do I feel so sad? Who is that person and why do I want to see them?
The pain increased and her body finally responded, sending itself backwards and onto the ground. Kagome panted, freed from whatever oppressive sensation was haunting her. She heard a thud next to her and realized Buyo had finally jumped down on his own. For a cat his size, he miraculously managed to land without any issue.
âGranddaughter are you okay?!â the mortified scream of her grandpa startled her. The elder, who had just emerged from the white building where his office was, came up to her as fast as his hips would let him, and promptly offered her a hand to stand up. âWere you trying to climb up the Goshinboku?â
Dazed, Kagome mumbled her explanation, pointing towards a now calmed Buyo innocently licking his paw.
âWe put shimenawa around trees for a reason, and that is to separate the outside world from the place where gods dwell. There are some trees that should never be touched so disrespectfully, every Higurashi knows thisâ, if he was trying to scold her, Kagome thought he didnât sound very imposing. âThe Goshinboku here has a most interesting story. You see, legend saysâŠâ
As if a spell was put on her, the girlâs mind started to drift, the words of her relative starting to sound like a foreign language she couldnât understand. Buyo rubbed his head against her legs, almost as if he was apologizing for the disturbance, and Kagome decided this was more important than anything else in the world.
âGot it, Grandpa. No more sacred tree climbing, I promiseâ she picked up her pet and headed back to the main house, where little Souta was obediently waiting for her, ignoring the laments of the old man behind her.
Unbeknownst to anyone around, the hundreds of souls inhabiting the Shikon Jewel stirred in her insides in the middle of their unending battle between good and evil.
The time to grant the priestessâ wish has yet to come, they whispered. And so, Kagome Higurashi was made to lose the memory of the phantom visions she had experienced that day.
