#unfinished fanfiction continuation

[naquey]

I love that you ship Drindy! On FF.net I was reading this incomplete fanfiction about them and it was so good and I really wish the author was able to finish it. I’m kind of new to fanfictions, but sometimes I see people requesting other authors to finish a piece of writing that was unfinished. I was wondering if you would consider finishing it, I love your writing so much and I think you would do such a great job (no pressure of course!) 🥺🥺this is the link to the fanfiction https://m.fanfiction.net/s/3378204/1/Gratified-Affair

I didn't read the entirety of the fic, but I did read the first and last chapter to gauge the progression of the characters from start to end. I can only assume that "finishing it" entails writing a 20th chapter. Because it is someone else's writing that is the only thing I can do, as I feel making more than a single chapter would be infringing or over-stepping. I know this fic has yet to be updated since 2009. It is excellent, and the characterization is phenomenal.

Admittedly, I will warn you this might get a bit angsty (as that is my specialty) because I was verbally throwing ideas out there and settled on something I liked that showed the vulnerability of the final scene in chapter 19 but also coincided with my thoughts. I hope this does the previous author some justice, as I've not quite adopted the show's dialogue yet, and the author on FF seemed to encapsulate that wonderfully.

Chapter 20

Drake's question was loaded, but there was one thing floating around in her mind that she couldn't just do away with. Mindy couldn't hurt Drake, not again. It might not have been apparent then that their breakup hurt him, but that was only because he was notorious for exchanging girls like trading cards.

So, Mindy hesitated.

Drake watched her curiously. He wanted to flinch away when her hand approached his face, but her movement was not malice. There was no ill intent in her eyes. He was safe with her. Mindy's thumb brushed over the skin under his eye where the bruising didn't touch, and her gaze softened slightly.

"Oh, Drake."

"This isn't your fault, I just had it coming." He laughed dryly, trying to ease the tension. For one, he didn't like seeing her so sad.

"I know you did." She cracked a smile, not yet moving her hand. "Have you been icing it? I can go get some- "He grabbed it gently when she moved her hand.

"It's fine. It doesn't hurt, trust me. I'm tougher than that."

"Even so, putting ice on it is smart." Mindy rolled her eyes.

"You of all people, should know I'm not that smart,"

"No, no. You are smart. You just don't know it yet."

Drake rose a brow, his smirk fading into a small smile. Perhaps that was another reason he liked her so much: she was always so nice to him. Mindy pulled away; she was most likely going to get him ice. He stood in front of her bedroom door, blocking her path.

"Ah, ah, ah. You never answered my question."

"I don't think I can,"

Drake blinked twice, staring at her incredulously. His brows shot up to his hairline. To him, it wasn't a thought-provoking question. Obviously, they liked each other, but Mindy had other ideas. He can see the conflict on her face, but the gears in his head have yet to turn. He doesn't know the problem.

"I'll be right back. Don't leave,"

And Mindy disappeared behind her bedroom door once he moved out of the way.

She returned shortly after, pressing the ice to his bruise. Drake winced, and she pulled the ice away hastily.

"I don't think there is anything we can do now,"

"What do you mean?"

"You broke up with me because you couldn't keep lying to Josh. I can't continue a relationship with you if all you're worried about is how your brother will feel."

"I had a code, Mindy." Drake took a step back. He wanted to avoid where this conversation was going.

"And what is that code, huh?"

"It- It's not important, okay!" Drake stammered. "I like you, hell, I think it's love-"

"You think?" Mindy furrowed her brows.

"Please, I don't want you to go away again."

"Drake, I like you." Mindy sighed. "I can't date you, not when you care so much about your brother. You don't want to hurt people. It's obvious."

"Mindy-"

"No," She held her hand up. "You can't convince yourself that you aren't best friends with your step-brother. I don't want to hurt you."

"But this is hurting me."

"Yeah, but only for a little while. You'll still be able to see me around; we can still hang out after school."

"It won't be the same,"

"No, it may not be the same, but you'll still have me. I'll always care about you."

"Mindy, think about this-"

He was startled when she hugged him. Her arms around his midsection were tight as if she was afraid he would disappear if she let go. Without another thought, Drake wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to remember this kindness for eternity. He also wanted to kick himself in the face, but deep down, he was upset and sad. She was right. He loved his brother too much to hurt him, and he loved her too much to hurt her.

Their situation may be convoluted, but as long as he still had her as a friend, that was all that mattered. Losing her over this wasn't something he could bear. It took them a couple of hours to finally part way. When Drake returned home, he found Josh asleep on the couch; the TV remote had fallen out of his hand. The blue light glowed softly over the room.

Emotionally exhausted, Drake shrugged off his leather jacket and kicked off his shoes on his way to his bed. Climbing the ladder, he face-planted into the pillows. One thing was for certain.

Drake was going to punch Eric.

[clear-what-i-was-seeing]

soon my fic tag will have more than just 5 posts in it oho

[shespeaksinsongs]

i miss writing. also, who hurt me?

-

Something to note: you can never be “just friends” with someone you’ve fallen in love with. 

I said it would be okay, because at the time, I’d rather be hurt and still be in his life than struggle to move on without him. But now, seeing his eyes light up when she enters the room… I don’t know. I guess I thought this would be a smart idea. Clearly, it wasn’t. 

We sat together at the Black Lake - a spot we’d frequented many times before. Only this time and every time since my love confession was severely awkward. 

His body would inch closer to mine and then retract, once he remembered what I’d done. Is it a social crime, I wondered, to be in love with a friend?

I took a deep breath, watching my breath stain the cold, thin air. “So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked, watching him take a cigarette out, his thumb fighting with the lighter for fire to spring out and pierce it. I’d told him a thousand times how I wished he’d stop smoking, but he seemed to love hurting himself as much as I did. 

The cigarette lit up, and as he was about to bring it to his lips, he sighed. “Are you still in love with me?” I could tell by the way he took the first puff and then looked away at the frozen lake in front of us, that he was trying not to make the question seem as big as it was. 

I frowned, erasing the look on my face with a blank slate. Although to him, I might’ve just looked tired. I shook my head as I turned my body to face him, leaning my head on the tree trunk behind us. 

“No, Theo. I’m not in love with you anymore.” My eyes flickered down to his lips, and when he noticed, he’d offered his cigarette. I didn’t smoke, but I lied, just to extend the fantasy. 

I nodded and took the cigarette, swallowing a cough as I squinted my eyes. 

He looked at me, then back at the lake, focused, as if he was deciding exactly how to word the next thing he said.  

Another sigh escaped his mouth, but it got on me, and made me feel warm. I ignored the fuzziness that blossomed inside me from his body warmth. 

I thought he’d speak, but he didn’t. He watched the trees sway in the wind, and it seemed looking at me was a difficult task for him.

“Why are you asking?” I asked, trying to sound the least bit hopeful I could. It made it harder when he turned to look at me, his blue eyes almost staring through my soul. 

Theo smiled slightly, and stopped smoking. A habit I’d noticed of his, when he was excited to say something. “I met a girl.” His voice was more lively, and way less heavy than it had been just a few moments ago. 

I feigned a smile. “Tell me about her.”

[egginfroggin]

With regards to this post:

Ingo is a fine, honest, upstanding example of transparency and truth until his little brother is thrown to the wilds and he isn't allowed to help, whereupon all bets are immediately off and he will lie to the face of anyone he has to to keep Emmet safe -- including Irida, the woman who gave him a home.

Don't mess with him, it is a terrible mistake to do so, and yes, he is absolutely willing to fight Kamado on this. With Pokemon or straight up throwing hands.

Violence and deceit aside, the twins kind of... instinctively reach out to each other for comfort, sometimes. Emmet, while he's filling out the Pokedex, probably hunts Ingo down whenever he's in the Highlands -- or literally drops in via Braviary.

Ingo has, for whatever reason, always been able to understand the slightly odd Galarian sign language that Emmet uses, and after Emmet goes non-verbal, Ingo is about the only person he can just... talk to without issues. This was especially comforting during the incident with the sky, because it was so much easier to just spill out the truth of everything to someone who would understand immediately and react accordingly.

(There are a lot of tears, a lot of high-octane emotions, initially; they spend at least one night asleep on each other because Ingo just pulled him into a hug after Emmet's hands started shaking too much to sign with, and they fell asleep like that)

(The urge to debate Kamado on his decision to banish Emmet was already there the moment Ingo had heard about it; the urge to outright fight Kamado on the matter was near overwhelming the more Emmet told him, and probably the only thing grounding him there in Lady Sneasler's den was Emmet himself breaking down)

Emmet basically stays with Lady Sneasler for those weeks during the incident in the original WTST, and he does the same with Ingo during this version of things. Ingo winds up not being able to help him with the Lake Trio for the purpose of keeping up appearances, but he does intervene when Kamado tries to come up the mountain. He's, frankly, tired of holding back, and tired of Kamado's increasingly questionable decisions, and he absolutely lets him know.

("Leave, and do not come back -- you are unwelcome here, and failure to leave on your own will result in you being forcibly removed. Lady Sneasler is far less kind than I am, Commander, and I'd hope that you're intelligent enough to know not to tread on the territory of a mother whose kit you wronged.")

(Kamado is not allowed back into the Highlands until Sneasler says so, and even after she says such, the Commander is perfectly fine with simply staying away for a while longer)

Even after the Pokedex entries for Pokemon in the Highlands are completed, Emmet still sometimes just shows up at Sneasler's den or Ingo's doorstep, like some kind of weird wild Purrloin.

After the incident with Volo, the visits become even more frequent. When his health starts to decline from working too hard to finish the Pokedex, Ingo finds him and hauls him back -- by the collar, if necessary -- to sit and rest. He's as insistent as Zisu is in the original fic, if not more so, and Emmet finds himself listening a bit more quickly (something about the exchange -- "You are working too hard! Your cab is in disrepair, and you must pull the brakes before you derail completely!" -- feels extremely familiar).

With Ingo there to mitigate some of Emmet's more... detrimental practices of overworking himself, Emmet is in a bit better shape when he finally goes home.

Speaking of going home, remember when I said that Ingo was willing to lie to and fight anyone in Hisui for Emmet?

When he remembers who Ingo is to him and realizes that he isn't home, Arceus gets an extremely upset little chosen on its doorstep.

("He was in Hisui for six years," it tells him, surprisingly calm despite his threats to thrash it worse than he had in Hisui and stuff it into a ball again if it didn't bring his brother back right now. "Time is a sensitive thing, chosen of mine; the six years he spent in Hisui must pass here, as well, before he will come back.")

("But he'll come back?" he signs, too distressed for words, hands barely steady enough to form the words, and Arceus tell him that, yes, Ingo will come home)

(About four years later, Ingo drops into a tunnel, follows the tracks back to the station, and finds Emmet in a white coat, waiting for him)

(Finally, everything is as it should be)

[bourbonificould]

are you working on anything new that you'd like to hint at?

Yes! I don't know exactly when I wanna finish up concepts or release finished products, but I am working on a couple new stories.

I don't want to stray too far from my field of knowledge, but I'd like to write something more Red Dead Universe based, just not sure what yet. As for TWDG, I'm thinking of working on an Ericson's AU where Lee is a teacher there and he has to navigate those troubles. I also JUST started a new story so it probably won't be for a while.

As for concepts, the Lilly or Carley idea someone brought up was nice, so I'm looking into that, and I was really hoping that maybe I could end up working with other writers on things if anyone was open to that.

Man, I talk too much....

[stickfigurefairytales]

Forget the “your one-night stand turns out to be your new boss” storylines - let’s see some “your boss turns out to be the your favorite fanfic author” scenarios.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Seriously never deleting a fic again. Just went through my messages and found a video with both my entire search history and a screenshot of my docs at the time (2021)

And I REMEMBER one of those fics being super whumpy but the screenshot only had about two paragraphs :((((

Don’t delete your fanfictions guys. Even if it’s super bad, you can always go back and see how much progress you’ve made

[lifecaughtinyoursway]

The only thing sillier than turning an unfinished Book of Mormon musical fanfiction into a full novel is leaving just enough traces of what it used to be so that someone with a similar past to you could conceivably go "woah it's almost like this used to be a Book of Mormon musical fanfic"

[shittysawtraps]

Hello, AO3 user.

In front of you is your laptop, on which is saved your extensive collection of unfinished work in progress fanfictions.

You must choose one unfinished story to finish without starting a new project. There is no time limit, and there is no punishment if you fail, but you will likely feel guilty if you continue to leave these stories unfinished.

Begin.

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

It's been two months since a handsome stranger started showing up at your bakery to buy an espresso and two loaves of bread. Nothing more, nothing less. You've never told anyone, but since his first order, you've been practicing new types of bread dough for him to try. He always comes in sweaty, and you believe it's from a run, but he's always so kind and always leaves a good tip. Unfortunately, every time you try to start a conversation with him, he disappears.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You hear a male voice coming from the entrance of the bakery. It must be the handsome stranger whose name remains a mystery. In his cup of coffee, at least, he asks for the name Barnes to be written on his order.

"Just a second…" You speak loudly so the person at the bakery entrance can hear. Unfortunately, you just put the bread in the oven, which means you're probably covered in flour. Not to mention, the Barnes guy has never shown up this early.

"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if you have your famous bread and coffee. I can't start my day without stopping by here." Finally, you make it to the entrance of the bakery. It's him, Barnes with captivating blue eyes and a charming smile.

"It's no bother at all, but unfortunately, I just put the bread in the oven. But I can prepare the coffee right now. I also made a cake. If you'd like, I can offer you a slice. And if you're willing, you can come back at the end of the day; I'll be trying a new fennel bread recipe that you might enjoy." You say, smiling gently at Barnes, who looks at the watch on his wrist. He's dressed formally today, which makes him look even more handsome.

"I will accept your offer to come at the end of the day. If you want to separate the piece of cake; I will gladly take it with me." He appears to be in a hurry as he heads towards the exit. You watch him, shaking your head positively.

"I'll separate them for you." You say as you watch him walk away. For the rest of the day, no matter if you were baking cookies or making a cupcake, you thought that at the end of your day; you would see Barnes.

You're distracted tidying up your counter, saving some leftovers to take home, maybe offer to your neighbors. In reality, you could already be at home but decided to do some extra cleaning at the bakery before leaving. Not because you want to cleaning everything for the thousandth time but because you want to give what you set aside to Barnes. The movement in the bakery was good, its oldest customers continue to return and bring more customers. While you're distracted, something makes a huge noise at the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" You shout towards the door. Next thing you know, Barnes is hurt. His clothes are torn, it looks like he was attacked. And he's standing inside your bakery, bleeding on the floor.

"You told me to come at the end of your shift. I'm sorry I'm late, I was finishing up some unfinished business." Barnes says as he tries to stay upright. You approach him, helping him sit down.

"I know we don't know each other very well, but you look terrible." You say, touching his forehead lightly, which seems to be quite bruised.

"I'm bleeding on the floor of your bakery, you can call me horrible all you want." He says smiling but then groaning in pain.

"Shouldn't we call the police or something? Maybe at least go to the hospital…" you try to suggest without success. Barnes shakes his head negatively while groaning a few curses. You worry about what kind of trouble he must be in to not want to do any of that, but suddenly it occurs to you that you have a first aid kit in the bakery's pantry.

"I know I'm asking too much, but at the moment I can't answer any questions or accept any suggestions. I only came here because I feel you like me enough to help me." Barnes speaks with some difficulty as you help him with his injuries. You're still processing the fact that he thinks you like him. While you're applying some bandages, you end up having to tear his shirt to clean the blood.

"Just tell me one thing, are we safe now?" You ask nervously as you put some bandages on Barnes. He looks at you, then holds your hand. You didn't even notice but your hand is shaking.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be safe." Barnes speaks in a seductive way but you try not to think of him that way. Even while he's injured, shirtless on the floor of your bakery. However, before you can answer anything, you hear a gunshot and suddenly, a bullet passes through the entrance to your bakery.

"I know the timing is terrible but are you sure?" You ask as you see the pained expression on Barnes' face turn into one of anger.

"Stay here, I'll sort this out and be right back." Barnes says holding your face lightly, which is the closest thing to intimacy you've had in a while but you could only think that he was intruding towards death. You watch him grab one of his best knives and head towards the front door. You are crouched down in an area a little further away from the entrance to your bakery. You hear grunts, some swearing. The guy who shot threatening Barnes, and Barnes not backing down. You hear the sound of another gunshot and then what sounds like someone using the knife. You grab the fire extinguisher on your wall and prepare to hit whoever walks through the door.And as soon as you make a move to hit the person, you feel the person holding you back.

"That would have been more useful with the bandit in front of your bakery. But it's good to know that you know how to defend yourself." Barnes says smiling pretentiously. After you dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor, Barnes fell into your arms. And all you can think is that you couldn't imagine ending your night with him in your arms like this.

[altf4d3lete]

Hey everyone, Aly here.

I wanted to check in and kind of explain my absence. I know I’ve been incredibly flaky on and off for the last few months or so. I feel incredibly bad for disappearing off the face of the earth constantly and for leaving my stories unfinished. I still get comments from people on my fics, and I genuinely appreciate the continued support.

Unfortunately, on and off for the past three or four months, I’ve been continually harassed and threatened by people. Death threats specifically, as well as other things that I won’t say because of how tasteless and just mean they are. This has honestly really affected me in more ways than one.

It’s affected my comfortability being in the public eye in any way. It’s affected my drive and motivation to write (both original works and fanfiction). It’s affected my interest in wenclair and I feel as though it’s driven a wedge between myself and my works.

The reason I bring this up now is to explain my absence. I think I’m going to try to start writing and posting again. I’m not sure how quickly I will be able to get chapters out, but I will try and get them out regardless. I love this fandom and these characters, and I love my works and the people who read them. I don’t want that to come to an end because of people who want to hurt me. But I did want to explain rather than disappearing off the edge of the earth, never to be seen again.

Thank you, to those of you who have been supportive. It genuinely means more than you’ll ever know.

[addledmongoose]

Maybe it's time I go back to my original fiction and put this GO story to the side for now just until I see how things shake out. I'm going to keep reading GO fanfiction, but I may end up stopping my fic rec friday threads.

If I had already started posting a story, I would continue doing so. I would hate to leave an unfinished story out there when people have already started reading.

[narcissarina]

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun || Chapter 6: The moon || Chapter 7: The moon || Chapter 8: The sun

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,104

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 9:

THE SUN

We got back in silence, he dropped me off—saying that he still has some unfinished business he left back to his office. I just nodded and went to my home.

It was refreshing to be alone for now, changing to my comfy wear as I flop in my bed, I mutter to myself that why is he a mafia and his step-mom—who he held in high regard an agent.

Was she aware of this? If so, why didn’t she stop his son on becoming a dangerous fellow?

This questions swirl in my head and eventually made me fall in deep slumber. My whole body felt tired and my mind exhausted. I hope he stays safe, it made it much clearer that he saves women and children from danger but what puzzles me is why did he pursue being a mafia instead of becoming an agent like his step-mom.

My eyes began to feel heavy, yawning as I roll over—snatched and hugged pillow, wrapping my body with my favorite blanket as I let myself fall in deep slumber.

I had a dream, in my dream. I’m walking in a field of flowers, I picked up a rose and someone trim the thorns of that rose, we were happy—hands together as he danced with me in a field of tulips. He’s gentle, loving and giving, he has a smile that would make me smile too. I can’t hear his voice when he speaks but I understood anyway.

My dream felt real and so vivid, I want to see his face but I couldn’t. I held out a hand and caress his cheeks, he leans to my palm and kisses it.

“I want to see you.”

“You already saw me.”

What he said shock me, but I felt happy—my stomach and heart felt fuzzy and warm.

“I found you?”

“You found me.”

I laugh and hugged him, I could feel his warm hands at my back and gave me a kiss on my temple. Now, I felt sleepy again. My eyes flittering shut as I fell in a deep slumber again.

“… yes…”

My ears were ringing.

“… I got…. Her… y…”

Someone’s talking, my head felt heavy. I felt déjà vu.

“Sir, she’s awake.” Someone said beside me, I felt a sharp object being pulled out from my shoulder.

Opening my eyes was already painful enough as I see someone blind me with a flashing light, squeezing my eyes shut as I groan from the light.

Hissing as I pull my legs up to my chest, I hear a clunk from my ankle—opening my eyes to see, I am chained.

Someone chuckled and I heard they put down their call and their heels click, their footstep approaching me. My vision still a blur, trying to focus my sight. I got a glimpse of that person towering me.

It was that ginger guy,

My throat is too dry but I manage to utter his name, “Ajax?”

He chuckle and pat my head, “hey there, girlie. I hope you had a wonderful dream,” he said with a smile, “before my boys take you away, they said you were snoring it all away.”

I tilt my head, my ears still ringing then fading away.

“oh, does your head hurts?” he spoke with concern, I nod and softly groan from my headache, “if they knew you’re a deep sleeper then they wouldn’t have to drug you, but I guess that’s also my fault.” He gave a weak laugh and kneel down to my level.

“I hope you don’t mind being kept here, you know.” He shrug and clasp his hands together, his knees on the ground and using his ankle to support his rear, “Since, Scara wouldn’t give in and take his mission seriously ever since he met you, you know?”

How much does this man kept on yapping?

All I heard that they’re on a deal with this woman name, or what he called the Tsarista, I squint and hiss as my ears kept on ringing then fading.

“You know, you don’t have to worry being starved. You’ll get food, I’m not that cruel to starve his sunshine, now do I?” he chuckle and boops my nose, “I’m curious too if he’ll go lengths to find you.” He stood and brush off some dust on his knees then tidy his sleeves.

“oh yeah, there’s no spare room. Don’t mind the dead bodies that will be put and rot here.” He added before turning his back at me, my throat felt dry and he saw that—mentioning to one of his men to fetch me water and get me my needs before leaving me in this dimly lit room.

The chain clunk as I move to stretch my legs and feel the coldness of the wall and floor.

What the hell did I do to deserve to be treated like this?

If he ever noticed something was wrong, I hope he notice quickly.

I want home.

Get me home.

Please…

I woke up from hunger, the ringing from my ear finally stopped.

I groan and look at my surroundings, nothing but darkness and emptiness. I stood and crack and stretch my muscle and bones, I step into something but I didn’t step too hard that it’ll break. Looking down, I see a small remote with only one button.

I picked it up and sat down again, analyzing and flipping the remote then clicked the button.

Minutes passed and I hear the door click and open, I saw a man in his tux holding a tray filled with food and something to drink, milktea and water. I tilt in confusion as he sets down the tray and left the room, without thinking much I chug down to the tray filled with goodies—trying to have my fill and to have my stomach stop growling from hunger.

I felt full, I think to myself that maybe this remote—every time I press its button, one of his men will come get me food every time I feel hungry or something.

“Maybe he wasn’t really kidding on not to have to worry about me being starved.” I mutter to myself and continue munching on my food.

It felt nice, my stomach felt warm and I love having my fill.

But I don’t like being kept in the dark, I don’t like the dark.

It’s not warm like the sun hitting my skin, it’s not the sunlight hugging me—instead it’s the darkness in this room, I have no one to keep me company here.

I hope he comes to get me soon…

Link:

Chapter 10: The outsider

[komipacket]

Finally!!!

Im gonna post my comic for a fanfiction called "Distraction" by Basu (grossalien on AO3)

I was drawing it from the summer of 2022 and a few months ago i realized that i dont have time or energy to finish it, i still feel kinda lame bc of it, but i want to continue with other projects so ig I'll just post it unfinished!

Hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to read the fanfiction if you haven't!

Welp... Thats it! Thank you for reading it! Credits to Basu bc I LOVE THIS FANFICTION SM!!! Sorry that i post it so late, i was hoping i would finish it before this but oh well i cant make you wait more!

(Anyways i started working on my own comic about a few weeks ago and i hope it'll look even BETTER! Thinking of adding color but that would be LONG.....)

[mrssylvatica]

“Evanesced Sylvatica”

1250 | SFW angst, dead alfons x pregnant reader. largely unfinished

This fanfiction is rated Teen, but keep in mind that the game, Ikemen Villains, is intended for a more mature audience.

◇ CW: Heavy themes of grief, implied sex (not explicit), graphic descriptions of injuries, the reader is biologically female but no pronouns are used, awkward writing and dialogue, half finished, not proofread I cringed too hard.  This was written at 5 am.

“Promise me you won't cry.”

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

(I haven't read his path, so this is bound to be inaccurate.  And OOC.)

You knew about the curse that haunted him, yet your soft hands grasped his, gently bringing the harsh black leather to your lips.  How you sweetly, so innocently vowed that you’d never forget him for as long as you lived.

You sweet fool.

Even after your pregnancy, Alfons still lived at Crown's castle.  He couldn’t just leave Elbert, and his abilities were too powerful to throw away.  It wasn’t like Alfons had any problem staying with Crown.

Honestly, it’s more surprising that you didn’t get pregnant sooner.  You already knew Alfons was naturally an intense partner, and each time…  Alfons tended to leave permanent mementos on your skin.  He held you so tight as if he was scared you would run away from him otherwise.  Each time your lips met, it was as if he was trying to embed himself into you permanently.  So you two would become one in body and soul, so you two would never part.

You two would lay side by side in each other's arms, or sometimes you rested your head on his chest, and Alfons would plant a small kiss atop your head, sweetly whispering to you until you slept.  His comforting warmth enveloped you in the darkness.  Sometimes you two would talk in the dead of night:

“Will you remember me, even after I die?  Perhaps you should forget, so you won’t need to face the sorrow in my absence.”

“Don’t talk like that...” Tears filled your eyes and your hands curled up into fists on top of his chest.  In response, Alfons chuckled and caressed your head.

“Shh.  Perhaps happy memories should be forgotten, or it’ll hurt more.”

“But I’d be so lonely without you.”

“I’ll always be here.”  He tapped on his chest.  “My scar is on your heart.  But even though it’ll cause you pain, I still want you to remember me.  To remember all the love we’ve had.  ...What a fool I am.”

Ah, God clearly never intended for this gift of a man to be loved.

You would continue watching plays together, every week.  Sometimes he would stop at the stalls and buy a bouquet or two.  You thought the cruel fate— or maybe Alfons himself— was mocking you with all the forget-me-nots.  Alfons would pridefully guide you through town, strolling at a leisurely pace.

“You see?  All these people.  They all know I love you.”

“But our love is forever in vain.”

“I know.  But isn’t it the moment of pleasure, those fleeting moments of happiness that matter most?”

You two would sit side by side, with your fingers interlocked and your head resting on his shoulder.  Sometimes you would fall asleep, and Alfons couldn’t bring himself to wake you up.  Your sleeping face was much more amusing to watch than the performance before you.

Alfons would caress your stomach, cooing to your child softly.  He’d scold the child for causing you pain with its little kicks.  “That’s not very proper of you to rival against someone who cares for you so much, is it?  Show some manners, won’t you?  Be like your father.”  This would always get a chuckle out of you, knowing how ill-mannered Alfons could be himself.

You knew Alfons would never go down without a fight against all odds.  But now he lay in a dark lake of his own blood, his abdomen split open and his trusty sword lying dull at his side.  Guts spilled from his fatal wound, and you could see the dark red intestines streaming out of the wound, limping at his side.  Scarlet tainted his ghostly pale skin.  You smelled nothing but the cruel iron liquid, tears clouding your vision as you refused to leave.

The world seemed to have stilled, your breathing shallow and your heart pounding in your chest.  How you wish you could offer your own body, giving up your life so he could stay alive.  His oppressors had left, and only you remained by his side.  Alfons was in an indescribable amount of pain, yet he forced a smile, just for you.  “Shh...  shh...”

You kneeled over his body, trembling.  Even if you called for help, it would be in vain.  It was hopeless for him now.  With a trembling hand, he weakly cupped your cheek, too weak and defeated to speak.  You held the hand to your cheek, feeling his strength fade.  He forced out these words from his lips:

“Promise me you won't cry.”

You were left clutching at the air, crying without knowing why.  All you knew is that your heart ached, with your throat choking itself, all without reason.

You now went to plays alone and came home alone.  But none of it interested you.  You thought it would give some sort of clue if you kept going, but nothing.  Nothing.  It was as if you where chasing a ghost.  Or perhaps a bird that had flown away.  Or perhaps a fleeting moment.

One day, in desperation, you called out someone’s name.  “Lord Elbert?”  You had been scared to approach Elbert since your pregnancy because the young lord was jealous of “his” attention.  Elbert turned around with elegant, gentle marble features set in a stone-like expression.  Fingertips coated with red curled around a fallen sparrow, its skull smashed in.  You felt nauseous at the sight.

“Have you felt anything...  missing as of late?”  At these words, Elbert’s expression became twisted and tormented.  You could have sworn you saw fear in those eyes.  Elbert turned and left with heavy yet silent footsteps, without a single word.

You now lie in bed, holding your newborn child to your chest.  Many quiet, sleepless nights were spent like this, staring up into the empty ceiling.  Something crucial was missing, but you didn't know what.  Sometimes your chest would heave, and you would let the searing tears guide you to the medicine called sleep.

His memory haunted you around every corner.  You would come home from the market in good spirits, only to be met with cold silence.  Opening a door excitedly and finding the room empty.  The scent of “him” still lingering, but the person in question remained absent.  You would stare at the open air, waiting for something to appear.  As if “he” would jump out from under the table and assure you it was all just an elaborate joke.

“He” tried so desperately to engrave himself into your body and soul, but he had left your memory in the blink of an eye.  How comforting it was to live in an illusion, to let hope blind you from the truth.  Your heart felt so empty that any sort of sensation, any sort of comfort or relief would do.  You just wanted to feel something again.  But you felt something to begin with?  And what did you even feel?  You didn't need any of these feelings.  You had no idea where any of them came from or why they were there.

This poisonous pain wouldn’t stop seeping into your very being.  You wanted this pain to go away.  You didn’t need it, you didn’t want it.

As your child grew, they bore more and more resemblance to someone you used to know.  You held their face in your hands, staring into their twinkling eyes.  Their luscious raven hair.  But who?  You didn't know.  You wouldn't even be able to know.  It was as if someone had pulled a dark blindfold over one person.

“What kind of person was he?”  You had no answer.

Author's Notes

I've had this idea in my head for quite a while, but I was unable to do it justice... Again, I probably shouldn't have wrote it at 5 am.

SHITPOST MAIN: @rou-luxe

[acciomjolnir]

Hey friends.

I'm out of steam.

Whatever energy I might have had for the HP fandom is gone. Between Baldur's Gate 3 eating my brain and Dragon Age: The Veilguard coming on Halloween, my OG fandoms are popping off. I can't muster up any writing mojo for anything Potterversey, and honestly, I've been having a very hard time continuing on in the Potterverse as a whole while JKR has been making international headlines oppressing trans people with her money in the UK and casting aspersions on successful Olympians because she's scared of brown people just as much as she's scared of trans people. The "I don't give her my money" angle doesn't really work when she has more money than God and uses it to perpetuate oppression and hate.

So I've hidden my WIPs, and I'm leaving my completed works locked to AO3 users only, and I'm going ahead and calling the game for now. AccioMjolnir is inherently tied to this universe. The jargon is in the handle. But I don't want my other fandom works attached to it.

Is this a retirement or just a hiatus? I can't tell you.

What I CAN tell you is that I have 500 little Dragon Age plot bunnies and another 500 Baldur's Gate plot bunnies, multiple playthroughs in each, and a barrelful of hype for what's about to drop on me.

(and none for Harry Potter, byeeeeee)

Anyway, I know I can't control what fandom does, but I can at least state my wishes for my works while I toddle back to Bag End and assume a new, non-wizarding ao3 handle for non-HP works. I'll start from scratch, sure. But I don't mind. It's kind of freeing.

Do not pick up where I left off on an unfinished work. Whether I come back to it in a week, a month, a year, or never, I do not give permission for continuations/completions. These are my stories. Write your own.

Do not involve my works in anything that involves exchanging money, and do not silo it off into walled gardens. Fandom should be free. My work is on AO3. There is no need for petty tyrants to hoard the epub in their facebook groups. There is no need for you to hold a hardbound copy in your hands. I wrote it because there was a story I wanted to read that I didn't see out there yet. And then I shared it because I thought maybe someone else would want to see it. That's really all.

Register for AO3. Get yourself a login if you don't have one. People out there have invites. Fanfiction authors do all of this for free. Hours of writing, editing, planning, shooting from the hip, writing half drunk or high, whatever we do, we're doing it in our own time for the joy of it. We're sharing our love of this fandom with you. Please, please drop us a thank you now and then. We give stories because we love them, and we love to share them.

Last but not least, love each other, be kind to each other. We're all humans at our computers, and most of us are trying our best. Ask yourself if it's really worth it to get into a beef with some other human at some other computer. Usually the answer is no.

See y'all in Faerûn. Or maybe in Thedas. And I'll still be around on Discord, so if you see me, say hello.