beandon
Fandoms
Recent works
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The Scratches & Puzzle Pieces of a Midwestern Princess by beandon
Fandoms: Original Work, After the End (MacMonika Video Game)
15 May 2026
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Summary
By the waves of wheat and water of Nebraska, a young dame scratches her itchings into paper.
Or:
Drifting thoughts stitched together, poorly veiled as AtE-related work
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A Telling of Modern Gaian History by beandon
Fandoms: After the End (MacMonika Video Game), Crusader Kings (Paradox Video Games)
07 Jan 2026
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Summary
Fleeing the Haida Deluge, a travelling bard from the Okanagan recites a brief (and perhaps pedestrian) epyllion on the history of Gaianism at the distant Ontarian court, bewitching and repulsing the noblemen and clergymen of mythical Toronto...
Or:
Herstory of modern Gaianism in America after the End, as told by a troubadour c. 2600 AD [American Dating]
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Good Night, Sweet Lady by beandon
Fandoms: After the End - Fandom, Crusader Kings (Paradox Video Games)
22 Aug 2025
Tags
Summary
A young Ontarian Bluebird finds herself paralyzed in a sinking war cog amid the Great Intervention to Pacify the Northeast, ready to meet her creator (if there even was one) as her mind taunts her one last time.
Or:
Three-in-the-morning ramblings and meditations of an anxiety-ridden insomniac pathic who occasionally indulges in After the End.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,533
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 1
- Hits:
- 26
Recent bookmarks
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Tags
Summary
I DON’T TAKE ANY CREDIT FOR THIS FANMADE FICTION! I’ve been asked to post this on behalf of a friend who would like to remain anonymous. (I only contributed a wee bit).
He seemed to slump over with shame. “My apologies.. I just.. didn’t want to fumble in front of Daisy.” He didn’t budge, even when I placed a hand on his shoulder to try to coax him back into the living room. Even though his posture wasn't straight, his well-fitting suit still gave him a formal appearance. The misery of his expression could not hide the fact that he had well-groomed hair and a sophisticated appearance. Evidently, he had put effort into making himself look good for Daisy.
Briefly, the room was still; I could only hear the sound of my heartbeat, synchronized with the tick of the clock in the living room. His shirt was still wet from the rain, but I couldn’t bring myself to move my hand. The fabric clung to his skin temptingly, so I glanced at his face instead, and at his damp hair. Anyone would say Gatsby was captivating. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in— standing taller to reach his face. I felt his breath on the tip of my nose, and the room felt hazy…
Or, a rewriting/missing scene insert of The Gay Gatsby