rionaleonhart | There Are Over 150 Files In My Unfinished Fanfiction Folders.

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There Are Over 150 Files In My Unfinished Fanfiction Folders.

About a week ago, I posted an unfinished fanfiction meme to Tumblr, and I thought it might be fun to play here as well!

Name a canon you know I have at some point enjoyed, and I’ll dig up and post an excerpt from the unfinished fanfiction I’ve almost certainly got lying around. (If you name something I don’t have any unfinished fanfiction for, I may write a few lines on the spot. We’ll see!)

I’ve posted this before, many years ago, but don’t worry about avoiding canons that were requested back then; I’ll just try to dig up something else.

Here are the excerpts I posted in response to requests on Tumblr:

Cinder_Quill: For the fanfiction ask meme: any unfinished stories about DN Angel?

This was tricky! But I dug through an old notebook, and I managed to uncover a tiny paragraph. This was from a Kingdom Hearts/DN Angel crossover I have zero recollection of contemplating, in which Kingdom Hearts Riku is talking to Daisuke. Both Riku and Satoshi are self-loathing teenagers who are intensely in love with someone they feel they don’t deserve, and I have a lot of emotions about them.

“Maybe it’s not my place,” Riku says. He glances in Satoshi’s direction. “Or maybe I’m just… projecting or something. I don’t know. But I think you’re important to him.”

academicgangster: Ace Attorney for the unfinished fanfiction meme?

Here’s a snippet in which Apollo and Athena stay up working too late and end up accidentally falling asleep on each other.

The first thing Apollo becomes aware of, as he wanders back to consciousness, is that he’s kind of propped up.

He’s fallen asleep on the office couch again, he guesses. He has to stop doing that; it’s not good for his neck.

It can get cold in the office – Mr Wright isn’t always reliable about paying the heating bills on time – but someone must have found him sleeping and put something over him. Something warm, something heavy, something—

Is—

Is that a person?

He snaps awake. “Objection!”

Athena jolts away with a yell.

There’s a moment where they’re just staring at each other, wide-eyed, both lying on the same couch. Apollo’s on his back. Athena’s above him, holding herself apart from him with her hands braced desperately on the couch cushions, like she’s trying to do a push-up.

Their legs are still tangled together.

What happened here?

futuresoon: Danganronpa!

I took this to be a request spanning the entire Danganronpa series and dug up a little Danganronpa 2 snippet. Major Danganronpa 2 spoilers under the cut.

Hinata takes a breath. “On the island... you said that you were ill. Was that – is that true?” Komaeda alive is unbearable, but the thought of seeing him die again...

Komaeda cocks his head to one side and smiles. “Well, I don’t know which possibility you’re hoping for, but I couldn’t possibly destroy that hope by giving you the answer!”

Right. There’s a surprise.

“It can’t be true, right? I mean... we lost years of our memories. You should be dead already.”

Komaeda’s smile broadens.

wyomingsmustache: Okay so I know it's been well over a decade since you've written anything Top Gear related but I was showing my roommate an episode the other day and telling him stuff about my Top Gear fandom days so now I am curious if you've got any bits and pieces leftover from back when, so for the fanfiction meme, Top Gear? (And if you don't, completely understandable)

We’re really getting into the deep lore here. Here’s something… mildly weird and dark? By Top Gear standards, at least. Because apparently I decided I should write two crossovers between Top Gear and Silent Hill. But Silent Hill is in Wales, for some reason.

(I know the reason. It’s because this was also going to be a crossover with Torchwood. It’s probably for the best that it never got finished.)

A light mist was resting on the hills around them.

James was driving, and the other two had just woken up from their shared slumber, which was fortunate because it meant that they could correct his course but unfortunate because they were clearly now never going to stop mocking him about it.

“Snowdon, James,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. “North Wales. Meaning that we should have been travelling north. Did you not notice at any point that the sun was on your right?”

“I’ll have you know that I paid particular attention to the position of the sun,” James retorted, irritated; after all, they could have gone much less out of their way had Jeremy or Richard had the common courtesy to stay awake. “It’s just that my last journey to North Wales was in the morning, and, well, I hadn’t really considered the fact that it would be in the west on this occasion.”

Jeremy burst out laughing. James tightened his grip on the steering wheel and stared resolutely ahead.

“Well,” Jeremy said, when he had recovered himself, “as we’re obviously not going to make Snowdonia before nightfall, on account of James being the worst driver in the world, we may as well change the challenge location. There aren’t any good mountains in Cardiff, are there, Hammond?”

When Richard didn’t cheerfully join in with the mockery, Jeremy frowned and twisted around in his seat. “Hammond?”

Richard was sitting in the back, staring intently out into the gathering darkness and fog. At the sound of Jeremy’s voice, he seemed to come out of a reverie and looked up at him, plainly uneasy. “I just – ” He hesitated; glanced out of the window again. “I thought I saw something moving out there.”

Under normal circumstances, Jeremy would have mocked him for such an unmanly display of nerves, but something about Richard’s tone or the atmosphere in the car made him hesitate. Instead, he frowned, looking back to the windscreen. “It is getting dark pretty quickly, isn’t it? James, what time is it?”

“I don’t know why you can’t check the time yourself; you’re not the one driving,” James muttered, flicking on the headlamps and glancing at the display. “It’s six o’clock.”

“It’s six o’clock in early August,” Jeremy said in disbelief. “I knew Wales was a miserable country, but this is ridiculous.”

“Can we go back?” Richard asked. There was an odd tightness to his voice. “There must’ve – James, you must’ve passed a hotel or something somewhere.”

“Hammond,” Jeremy said, laughing, “I’m not happy about having to stay in Cardiff either, but it’s not – ”

And then a dark shape lurched towards them out of the fog and James jerked the steering wheel so hard that the car skidded off the road and half-way down a grassy embankment before it came to a halt.

For a moment, all three of them were very still and very silent. James was shaking.

“You’ve got reactions, James,” Jeremy said eventually, with a nervous laugh. “Why can’t you ever put a bit of that speed into our challenges?”

“Don’t joke,” James said, still gripping the steering wheel as if it were the only thing anchoring him in place. His face was very white. “I almost hit someone.”

doreyg: Death Note for the unfinished fanfic meme!

I responded with a Death Note/Silent Hill snippet I’d previously posted on this journal. So it wouldn’t just be material I’d already posted elsewhere, though, I also uncovered a few lines from a notebook (a regular non-death notebook):

In another world, you might have been someone else. Nothing special, but enough. Light Yagami, an ordinary man with an ordinary life.

But this is the world you’re in, and you’ve become a god.

tweetymcbastardface: Waterloo Road. Do it.

I can’t believe anyone would do this to me.

“Are you sure about this?” Izzie asks quietly, stroking Lorna’s blonde hair back from her cheek.

Lorna stretches out luxuriantly on the bed, her eyes closed and a smile on her face. “I’ve never felt better.”

Izzie hesitates, looking at Tom, and then she leans down. She laces her fingers through Lorna’s and kisses her, cautiously, and breaks off two seconds later in a burst of nervous laughter. “This is very weird.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“No, I think it does.”

“Try again,” Lorna urges. “It was lovely; you’re much better than Tom.”

“Oi!” Tom protests.

Izzie takes a long, slow breath and tries again. She’s so close she can feel the warmth from Lorna’s skin when she breaks down in giggles.

And that’s all the unfinished fanfiction requests I received on Tumblr! Feel free to request a fandom in the comments here, and I’ll see if I have anything lying around for it, or, failing that, I’ll see if I can scribble something down.

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Because I'm elbow deep in it right now, I'm going to say The X-Files.

If you've nothing for that, then— hm. FFXV!

Wow, I did not remember I had a snippet of an X-Files/Person of Interest crossover lying around.

“Whenever there’s trouble, it’s like this guy knows about it in advance,” Detective Carter says. “All we can do is show up late and sweep up the mess.”

Scully raises her eyebrows. “It sounds like he’s causing trouble. I’m not sure there’s any mystery there.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’d think,” Carter says. “But I’ve been looking into all these incidents, and I’m pretty sure this guy just drops in on things that were gonna happen anyway, changes the course of things.”

“For the better, or for the worse?” Mulder asks.

Carter shrugs. “Better, mostly. He’s got some innocent people out of the line of fire, he’s helped us make some collars.” She pauses, then adds, reluctantly, “He saved my life once.”

“So he’s a vigilante,” Mulder says. “Possibly a vigilante with some sort of psychic ability.”

“Honestly, I’m getting to the point where I could believe it,” Carter says. She pauses again. “This guy shoots a lot of people, and I’d say nine in ten of them survive. What does that tell you?”

Scully takes a moment to contemplate that. “That he doesn’t want to kill people,” she says at last, “but he’s good at it.”

Carter nods. “Exactly. You don’t get that good at shooting to keep people alive if you don’t know how to shoot to kill.”

And for Final Fantasy XV:

Noct wanders out of the tent while Ignis is chopping vegetables. “What are you making?” he asks, suspiciously.

“Green soup curry,” Ignis says, looking up from his work. “It’s a favourite of Prompto’s.”

Prompto freezes up as Noct shifts his wary gaze to him. Oh, crap. Noct is going to have to eat vegetables, and it’s Prompto’s fault.

“Hey,” Prompto says, hastily, “it’s gonna be fine. The, uh.” What did Ignis say? “The flavours are so strong, you’ll barely taste any of...” He waves his hand at the little pile of vegetables. “Any of that.”

“Yeah?” Noct asks, sounding unconvinced.

“And, uh, what if we get attacked by Bombs?” Prompto asks. “We’ll be totally fine, ’cause we’ve eaten something so hot that fire can’t touch us.”

A brief pause. “Prompto, that’s not how curry works.”

Noctis really needs to learn how delicious vegetables are.

These were fun, though! Thank you for sharing them.

Who is Carter?

Detective Carter is a Person of Interest character who I thought might plausibly brief Mulder and Scully if they visited New York! I felt bad for including a character you wouldn't know, but the only other X-Files snippets I have were posted to this journal already (in my 2023 fic concept roundup) and were therefore ineligible for this exercise.

Fair enough, thank you for explaining!

This line, the most Mulder line to ever Mulder, more than makes up for any confusion:

“So he’s a vigilante,” Mulder says. “Possibly a vigilante with some sort of psychic ability.”

Ooooh, more Death Note! I love that second snippet, the fact that Light really could've been just some guy but, no, he's decided he's the worst god ever. :DD

I also wondered (although feel free to ignore this, as I have already asked and recieved!) if you have any The Quarry snippets left.

You're absolutely welcome to request again! Here's a snippet of a Travis and Laura bodyswap fic.

Maybe he’s dreaming. But he’s been dreaming for days, and the moon is full tonight. If there’s any chance that this is real, that he’s actually living as this young lady, he can’t let the month slip by without hunting.

She’s carrying some cash, but not a lot, not shotgun money. He left the key to his gun safe with his body, so he’ll need to head to the family home, grab a weapon from there.

His family’s going to have questions, obviously, a stranger turning up and claiming to be their son. He’ll just have to figure it out.

The journey takes longer than he was hoping; he makes it when the moon’s already high in the sky, he’s lost valuable time. But he makes it.

He’s almost to the door when he hears the gunshot.

He doesn’t think; he just hurtles into the woods after the noise. A gunshot means there’s something to shoot at, means maybe someone’s come across Silas, and it hits him too late that he doesn’t have a weapon; he’s no use here.

But, if they’ve found Silas, he needs to know.

The girl’s young, she’s quick on her feet, and she carries him in seconds to the source of the gunshot. To Silas.

To Silas, lying human and dead. To the end of his family’s curse.

He can’t let himself believe it. He could still be dreaming.

He looks up, breathing hard, to see which of them ended it, and he finds himself looking straight into his own eyes.

I love this! Especially that Travis' first instinct, when bodyswapped into the body of a teenage girl, is that he can still go werewolf hunting what on earth are you talking about. :D And that Laura has had the exact same thought, from the other side! They're obviously made for each other. <3

Community! I am choosing this because I have several unfinished fics for it, and zero posted.

I really thought this one was going to stump me! I've written four Community fics, but I didn't think I had anything unfinished for it. But I looked through a couple of my notebooks, and, uh, apparently I have a few lines of a Community/Supernatural crossover?

"Silver knife," Dean says, brandishing it terrifyingly. "If you're not a shapeshifter, I guess you won't mind a little cut, will you?"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I might," Jeff says, backing away.

Dean grins. "Gotcha."

"Uh," the other guy says, a little anxiously, "I'm not sure that's that unusual a reaction, Dean."

EDIT: Just found an additional snippet of this! Or possibly the two snippets are from two different potential versions of this fic.

Jeff is pretty good at talking. It's kind of what he does. Even at Greendale, a place that probably gets fined if it goes over its quota of three non-ridiculous events per year, he's rarely actually lost for words.

Still, there are exceptions to every rule. There are still a few things that can reduce him to stunned silence. One, he's just discovered, is a guy who looks exactly like him (but with slightly better hair, he's troubled to note) striding threateningly into the study room.

Another, he discovers a moment later, is another guy bursting in through the other door and shooting Jeff's identical twin in the heart.

Edited 2024-08-01 21:46 (UTC)

Awesome! I'm glad I asked. :D

Any spare Severance excerpts lying around?

“You wanted to see me, Ms Cobel?” Mark asks.

“In your new role as department chief, you may require certain information about the department,” Ms Cobel says. She gestures to a small stack of papers on her desk. “These files may not leave this room, but I’d advise you to read them and familiarise yourself with the contents.”

Mark nods, sits down and picks up the papers. It’s slightly intimidating to read them under Ms Cobel’s gaze, but there’s no helping that.

Most of it is more or less what he’d expected. Statistics on absences, late arrivals, late departures. Productivity reports: Dylan consistently high, Irving occasionally variable, Helly currently an unknown. He has to wince at the line Mark is a solid and reliable worker but has never entirely lived up to the promise he showed on Allentown.

One page makes him pause. There’s very little text on it; it really didn’t need an entire sheet of A4 to itself. It’s headed Waffle Party Preferences.

Irving B.: has opted out of Waffle Party Perk (soft)
Dylan G.: butter, maple syrup. Tempers: M, F
Helly R.: has opted out of Waffle Party Perk (hard)
Mark S.: chocolate syrup, strawberries if available. Tempers: F only

Petey must have had access to the team’s waffle party preferences, too. Did he ever look through them? The thought makes Mark a little uncomfortable.

“What does ‘soft’ and ‘hard’ mean?” Mark asks, looking up.

“A soft opt-out was requested by the innie,” Ms Cobel says. “A hard opt-out was requested by the outie and cannot be overruled.”

Mark looks at the F only next to his name again. “How do you decide on the Tempers?”

“New employees are asked to fill out a diversity questionnaire,” Ms Cobel says. “One of the questions relates to sexuality. It’s optional, of course.”

Mark’s wondered, occasionally, about his own sexuality. It’s not really relevant in here, of course. But it’s crossed his mind.

He’s straight, apparently. Or his outie said he’s straight, at least, and he guesses his outie would know.

He’s straight, apparently. Or his outie said he’s straight, at least, and he guesses his outie would know.

I'm dying. This is fantastic, and exactly what I'm into when it comes to Lumen's weird oversight and control of employees' sexual lives (and oh god, the innate fuck-uppedness of consent being weighed differently for outies and innies). I seriously love how you write for this canon.

FFVIII! You knew it was coming...

Edited 2024-08-01 20:31 (UTC)

I debated whether to share this snippet or something from my Rinoa/Zell fic in progress, but the Rinoa/Zell fic actually has half a chance of being finished one day, so I'll go with this. Here's a gratuitous scene fragment in which Zell tries to free Squall from the electrical torture device in D-District Prison.

Holy shit.

Squall’s strapped up on the wall, arms out. Head lolling, and for a terrified moment Zell thinks he might have found his corpse.

“Squall!”

Squall twitches at his voice, just a little, and he’s alive. He’s alive.

“Holy crap, Squall, what happened to you?”

[...]

Zell runs over, gives the control panel a quick inspection. Hits the button below the label RELEASE.

Someone starts screaming, and Zell jerks around, raising his fists, before he realises—

It’s Squall. Zell couldn’t have imagined him making a noise like that.

Shit. Shit! What’s happening?

Squall’s bitten off his scream, but it’s clear he’s still in pain. He’s jerking and twitching and breathing so hard Zell can hear it across the room, and all Zell can do is stand there, frozen and staring.

He has to stop this. He doesn’t know what this is, but he has to stop it.

He looks back at the control panel, in a panic, and it hits him: the release button is the one above the label. What the hell has he done?

Oh, poor Zell... Poor Squall! But poor Zell >D

The Mentalist, The Good Place, Doctor Who and Scrubs? Excerpts so far are delightful.

Ooh, this is an interestingly challenging set! I have to admit defeat on The Good Place; I've written and posted one fic for it, but I've never attempted anything else. (Congratulations; you're the first one to name a fandom I genuinely can't find anything for!)

I can do The Mentalist! Here are some fragments of a Silent Hill crossover in which the town slowly robs Jane of his memories of his family:

He’s talked to his wife in his mind for years, ever since it happened: talking about cases, about their life together; asking her advice (and then mostly ignoring it). It’s a lie, he knows, but it’s a comforting one.

It’s kind of creepy, right? he asks her, as he stands in the middle of the deserted street, and she doesn’t answer. He tries to think of what she’d say, but it won’t come to him. Anything he thinks sounds forced, wrong, like he’s pitched his voice higher in a parody of hers.

He’s lost her voice, and he can feel her absence like a macabre smile painted on the inside of his head.

[...]

“I had a daughter once,” he says, “and if I’d known she was wandering around a place like this I would’ve been terrified.”

“What’s her name?” Laura asks.

He draws breath – and then stops.

Laura snorts. “Guess you can’t’ve loved her very much.”

It hurts. “You’re wrong. I loved her more than anything.”

“Then what’s her name?”

He can’t have forgotten. He can’t. Her and his wife, they were everything to him. Their memories are all he has now; he’s not about to lose them.

“Like I said,” Laura says, kicking her heels against the wall. “You don’t really care about her, do you?”

[...]

All he wants is something of his wife back. This town has crept inside his head and killed her all over again, and without her he feels like he’s losing his mind.

[...]

He stumbles onto the dock, so exhausted he barely registers the way the boards creak dangerously under his feet, and limps through the fog to the hotel.

There’s a red smiling face on the door. He thinks that might have meant something, once.

I definitely have unfinished fanfiction for Scrubs and Doctor Who! But I did most of my writing for those fandoms when I was a teenager, so I suspect most of my unfinished stuff for them is in notebooks at my parents' house. Let's see if I can find anything here.

Okay! Here's a Doctor Who snippet in which the Doctor is talking to Jeremy Clarkson about Sherlock Holmes. Don't ask questions.

“If you’re so worried about people being in the wrong times,” Jeremy said, loudly, “why did you take Sherlock Holmes out of the nineteenth century?”

The Doctor blinked. “That’s different,” he said, evasively.

Jeremy snorted. “How is it different?”

“Well, we needed his help.”

“He can’t help us! How is a Victorian detective supposed to know how to close up a magical time rift?”

“All right,” the Doctor said, losing his patience. “Taking you three with me would be taking you out of your home time as well, so you can stay here and look after the great detective. I’m going to pick up whoever we’ve stranded in 1973. Horrible year.” And he slammed the door of the TARDIS. Richard, startled, ran forward and tried to open it, but it faded away beneath his hands.

They stood for a moment, looking at where the TARDIS had been.

“Did you have to do that?” James asked eventually, breaking the silence. “I was enjoying our time travel.”

“It’s 1973, James,” Jeremy said, in a tone that made it clear that he thought he had just done them all a favour. “He’s right; it’s no great loss.”

“What if he doesn’t come back, though?” Richard asked, with a nervous glance towards the slight haze in the distance; but he had barely finished speaking when the grinding noise of the engines started up, and the TARDIS materialised in front of them again.

The three of them exchanged glances.

“That was quick,” Richard said.

“It’s a time machine, Richard,” James explained, patiently.

And... oh, wow, I actually have managed to unearth a Scrubs snippet! JD/Cox, from Dr Cox's perspective. This is absolutely ancient; it must be from around 2006. I've substantially reduced the use of italics for everyone's sake.

I can’t really stay here with Newbie draped over me like a ragdoll, so I push him up against the wall for support, and then I realise that we’ve got a problem.

You see, Newbie’s got his back pressed against the wall right now, and he can barely move, and I am very, very close to him. This is another dominance thing, I guess – when I’ve got someone cornered like this –

This is one of the things that my ex-wife and I have in common. When we were first going out, sex was like a war, with each of us always trying to be the one to force the other against the wall. It got pretty painful after a while – we’d both be bruised all over by the end of it. Once, during an especially fierce rendezvous, she actually slammed me into a plate-glass window, and we fell three storeys and gave a pack of passing schoolkids an eyeful.

What I’m trying to say here is that, see, having Newbie up against the wall like this is something that cannot end well.

Congratulations to me! 🥳

Omg that Mentalist snippet is brutal. & Laura just twisting the knife. & forgetting Red John too! (ngl having that impetus partially vanish is an alarming/fascinating thing to explore)

Jeremy being a dick to the Doctor is v on-brand. (Also, 1973 🤔 is this perhaps... also a Life on Mars crossover?) That does sound like a fascinating mix of characters, although Jeremy & Gene Hunt together would possibly result in bloodshed. Or bonding, which may be worse.

Ah, the golden age of italics, I remember it fondly. That is a v interesting snippet & a great example of 'using sex as character study'!

Thank you so much! (And sorry for taking so long to reply!) The Top Gear/Doctor Who/Sherlock Holmes snippet was indeed a crossover with Life on Mars as well, and in fact it was also the same fic as the Top Gear/Silent Hill/Torchwood crossover in the original post. It was also going to incorporate Final Fantasy XII, The Real Hustle, Harry Potter and Supernatural. Just a very overambitious and ill-advised project all round.

VARGAS? [EYES]

I don't have anything unfinished for Vargas, alas, so here's a snippet I wrote on the spot!

It never feels good to come out of a blackout. What has Scriabin been doing with his body? What stranger is he going to wake up in bed with this time?

He’s not in bed. He’s outdoors. Where is he?

That’s...

That’s the Eiffel Tower.

That’s the Eiffel Tower, right?

“Where are we?” Edgar demands, aloud.

I’ll narrow it down for you, Scriabin says. It’s not Las Vegas, and it’s not Tokyo. I’m sure you can get this if you really try.

“I can’t be in France,” Edgar says, desperate. “I have – I have work, Scriabin.” He starts hunting through his pockets.

Oh, yes, Scriabin says, with deep disdain. Your very important job. What is it that you actually do? It’s so mind-numbing that not even I could tell you, and I literally live in your head.

“Where’s my passport?”

Why do you need it? Scriabin asks. You’re safe here. No serial killers creeping into your life. Nny doesn’t know where you are, and, anyway, can you picture him spending ten hours on a plane without getting arrested?

“Scriabin,” Edgar says. “Where is my passport?”

Oh, Scriabin says, offhand, somewhere in the Seine.

Lost!

This is a snippet of a Lost/Life Is Strange crossover. A lot of my unfinished fics are ill-advised crossovers, it turns out.

“Look, dude,” Chloe says, “I don’t know your life, but I’m pretty sure you don’t need that many goddamn tampons. Ever think maybe someone else could get more use out of them?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it.” Sawyer gives her a slow smile. “That’s why they’re good for trading. What’ll you give me for them?”

“How about you hand them over and I don’t bleed all over your tent?” Chloe suggests.

“Chloe,” Max whispers, mortified.

“No, Max. This asshole needs to know he can’t just hoard everything without consequences.”

THAT APOLLO AND ATHENA ONE IS SO CUTE WHAT THE HECK

Ha, thank you! I'm a little sorry I never finished it, but, alas, I had no concept other than 'Apollo and Athena fall asleep on each other, the perfect fic, I step forward to receive my award'.

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There Are Over 150 Files In My Unfinished Fanfiction Folders.

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The Quarry

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Community

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Severance

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Final Fantasy VIII

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The Mentalist, Doctor Who, Scrubs

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Vargas

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Lost

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