Fanfictional Rogue

Happy New Year! Happy 5th anniversary year for Romy!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43522632/chapters/110617027

fandom is a hobby, not a form of activism

adult women aren’t inherently creepy for being in fandom and having hobbies apart from raising babies and doing taxes

the vast majority of people pushing back against the worrying trend of instigating harassment over fictional characters and relationships aren’t incest supporters or pedophiles, actually

liking a m/f ship doesn’t make someone a dirty heterosexual invading your space

preferring gay ships doesn’t make you ‘’woke’’ and good

no one owes you a disclaimer that they are a good person who recognizes that their favorite fictional villain’s actions are evil and that they don’t condone those actions irl

liking a fictional villain is in no way comparable to advocating abuse/murder/genocide/etc and you’re a fucking idiot if you believe that

just because a woman is attracted to a fictional villain doesn’t mean she’s promoting toxic relationships or going to end up in a toxic relationship. assuming women can’t tell fiction and reality apart stinks of internalized misogyny 

some rando’s a/b/o fanfics have none of the level of influence that popular tv shows and movies spreading propaganda have

no one owes you a detailed description of their traumas and mental health problems

abusive relationships are not the same as enemies to lovers ships

y’all need to chill the fuck out over people, relationships, actions and events that don’t actually exist and learn how to enjoy and discuss them like normal people

fandom is a hobby, not a form of activism

you can’t tell someone’s irl gender, sexuality, or values from what they read, write, and ship

tagging systems are a big draw for readers. both for content/trigger warnings, and for genre information. knowing the tone of the story and whether the ending will be happy/sad/satisfying is a deciding factor for many readers.

word count: especially important as digital books become more common. books are more accessible when readers have a way to check both the total word count and the chapter word counts.

there is a big audience for short stories featuring characters from book series. It used to be more common for authors to release short stories or anthologies in between novels, with shared characters & settings. (Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, P.G. Wodehouse, and the Rumpole series all did this.) Unfortunately this has fallen out of practice, but as fanfiction has shown, there is still a huge reader interest.  

there is a demand for expanded universe content, particularly for content with a different format or atmosphere than the original canon. audiences like variety; e.g. fans of high-stakes/dramatic stories are also interested in seeing their favorite characters in low-stakes/humorous situations. these stories are not inauthentic nor do they pander to the audience; they simply allow audiences & creators to explore characters through a different lens.

similarly, there is a big interest in spin-off content featuring secondary characters. audiences see a great deal of potential in supporting characters, with most fandoms having clear “favorites”. short stories expanding on such characters have a great deal of marketing potential, and allow writers to explore expanded canons without any risk of altering primary characters/storylines.

Give audiences accessible, satisfying stories in a variety of formats.

I'm trying to make backups of the few things I'm not too embarrassed to keep from Way Back When (because I'm also like 4+ computers beyond what I originally wrote that shit on and some of it got lost in data migrations)

And guys

The password recovery is NON FUNCTIONAL.

That site is circling the drain, so if you've got stuff on there you want to keep, go save it now.

"Day of Doing Hard Stuff" Continues...

A recommendation: if you too would like to download thirty pages worth of review comments, I recommend going chapter by chapter on FFnet and "Exporting as PDF".

There isn't any built-in functionality that will let you download your reviews within the site, though you can certainly pull down your content within the stories dash.

Other Stuff

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- I post a lot of Star Wars content (a lot of NSFW stuff too), so if you’re looking for Rogue/Gambit exclusively, I run @fuckyeahroguegambit

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue Characters: Rogue (X-Men), Remy LeBeau Additional Tags: THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Rain, Motorcycles, Sleep, Breakfast, Touch, Cuddling & Snuggling, Heart-to-Heart Summary:

Caught in a rainstorm after a mission gone bad, Rogue and Gambit are desperate to find a safe place to hole up for the night and to get a few hours sleep before resuming their trip back to the Mansion.

Well, here it is, a little treat for my followers - the first chapter of Crazy 8′s, the sequel to 52 Pickup. I’m sharing since it’s Day 7 (AU) of Rogue/Gambit Week 2020. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish this story, even though I got a fair way through it, since I wrote myself into a corner, and I’m not sure I like it very much. But I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

Crazy Eights

Chapter 1

               Thieving 101.

               Simplest rule in the book.

               Don’t get caught.

               I can hear pere’s voice in my head, clear as day, literally beatin’ the words into all of us, his snotty-nosed, grass-stain-scuffed li’l Fagin’s gang.

               Don’t. Get. Caught.

               And then his face, leaning in towards mine, grinning, saying:

               Unless, o’ course, you have a reason t’get caught.

               Yeah, that was mon pere, full of good, subtle ideas. He’d usually direct them at me cos he knew I was like the worst kind of sponge. I’d be soakin’ all that shit up, swimmin’ in it like a gator swims in swamp water.  As a kid, I’d always figured he was just picking on me. As an adult, I realise all he was doing was laying down challenges, cos he knew this punk-ass kid would rise to the bait every time, pushing every damn boundary he could along the way.

               You got potential, boy. But you got no discipline. Always halfway t’ bein’ in a rage, t’ ventin’ it out on some poor trash. You play de con, kid, you live de con. No heart-on-your-sleeve shit.  Dat stays inside. Cos y’know what? Folks can read dat crap a mile away.

               “C’mon, pretty boy,” the man to my right grunts, as the alarms I’ve set off still scream all around us. “Getcha arse in gear. The boss don’t take kindly to waitin’.”

               He prods me in the back with the barrel of his gun, a little too sharply than is strictly necessary; but I get it, he has a job to do, and actin’ mean is part of it.

               “Yeah, well, that’s what bosses are like, mon ami,” I answer with a smirk. “Never got time for nothin’. Mebbe you should think about goin’ freelance, neh?  It has its advantages.  No calls at unsociable hours… Don’t gotta do all the dirty work y’self… Get t’ have a couple of pretty femmes hangin’ on your every word… Still. I reckon mebbe you two ain’t smart ’nuff yet t’ graduate from the ol’ ‘Crime Boss 101’ course, am I right?”

               “Hey!” The guy to my left gives me a crack on the back of the head with what I assume is also the barrel of a gun. “Shut the fuck up!”

               See? Boring, predictable, run-of-the-mill flunkies. These couyons ain’t never gon’ make it past mid-tier bodyguard material.

               And those alarms are still screaming.  Ain’t some asshole gon’ shut it off already?  It’s givin’ me a headache.

               Whatever. I do as I’m told and shut the fuck up. Mostly because I’m busy scanning the décor of this corridor we appear to be walking down.  The walls are lined with paintings, a mess of eras and styles that could tell anyone with an ounce of taste that whoever’s collecting this shit has none.  Taste, that is.  All it tells me is that this guy has cash, and he don’t mind throwin’ it ’round.  We walk past a Cezanne, and I grimace.

               Hang on in there, li’l guy, I say to myself as we sweep right by it. One o’these days I’m gonna free you.  Soon.

               Cos let’s face it.

               You think I’m gonna leave a Cezanne to rot in Cain Marko’s fuckin’ playboy mansion when it could be on my wall?

               I think not.

Rogue/Gambit week, Day 5: Cats

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue Characters: Rogue (X-Men), Remy LeBeau Additional Tags: Cats, rogue/gambitweek2020, rogue/remyweek2020 Summary:

Doomsday (Part 1 and Part 2 currently posted)

Ao3                                                 FFN

Summary: Canon divergent look (in drabble form) into what would have happened if Remy and Rogue had become friends before Day of Reckoning. It’s a countdown to doomsday (DoR) as Remy and Rogue grow closer and his guilt grows at lying to her about who he is and who he works for. Angst. So much angst. Will be in 3 parts. Rated M for language and sexual situations.

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning:  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:  F/M

Fandom:  X-Men Evolution

Relationship:  Remy LeBeau/Rogue

Characters:  Remy LeBeau,  Rogue (X-Men)

Additional Tags:

Rogue looks at her computer screen and watches the words spin out into gibberish before her eyes. Chinese characters that made no sense and only brought a pulsing migraine to her temples. Hank had actually appeared in all his blue glory to plead Rogue’s case academically. Alongside Charles and Storm, they took hours to explain all the reasons Rogue should be exempt or pardoned for her missed work. 

After everything she managed to transform through, endure, and survive; she cannot fail for so many conditions out of her control. The telepath will not see her suffer more and repeat her junior year for no fault of her own. Principal Kelly reluctantly agreed that maybe not all mutants were bad, and she could have her opportunity to rejoin her class (the poor girl missed over a semester between the spring concert and D-Day).

She had two weeks from Apocalypse’s official defeat to catch up on all of her work. She’s lucky she got that with her graduation track record, the southern goth has no interest in stressing Charles further or making her relationship with Bayville High worse. 

She grins and bears it like much of the other things she’d gone through; she didn’t have much choice. 

So, while she recuperated from the exhausting battle she studied in the infirmary. A dutiful Ororo and Hank went over the work she managed to complete (and monitor her caffeine intake). She thought she was a great student before she had her mind melted, twisted, and warped. She stares at the sentence prompt for her English paper and sighs.

“What was the hardest moment of your life and how did it transform you?” 

Rogue laughs dryly but tears well in tired eyes. She’d be kicked out of school if she wrote half of that down. What did she say? Did she make up something? Lie? She’d been staring at a blank computer screen for hours, now. She can’t put any words down the way she used to. ‘God, what if Ah’m ruined…’ 

Maybe she was ruined from what happened to her. Broken. Used up. She’d dare not say anything, but the psyches had returned to her mind with a howling vengeance. They are louder and more embellished than her own inner monologue. Swamping every cohesive thought with their arguing. Their screams. Their terrifying whispers.

It was worse than before. She doesn’t remember where she is in it all. What she liked and didn’t like. What were her dreams? She’s surrounded by imposters and compies. Charles seems too relieved, so ashamed and afraid of what he’d done as a horseman. How could she tell him she no longer sleeps because it’s like Apocalypse is speaking in her ear? To conquer. To defy. To finish what he so bravely started. 

Rogue jerks and several pages and pens clatter to the floor as she groans. Adrenaline pulses through her veins as she fights to be herself. 

‘Just fail, you don’t need school anyway…’ 

‘Destroy this school. Forge a new curriculum, unlock all of your power so we-’

‘Just focus, you can do this. Remember your training…’ 

‘You got this, Rogue.’ 

‘Scott-’

“God,” Rogue grits her teeth and looks into an empty thermos. If she made another pot of coffee someone (anyone’s guess) would haul her to the infirmary. She was still drinking twice as much as Hank’s recommendation and she knew a freakout was imminent if she drank more.

If she fell asleep like this, she’d only have nightmares. Nightmares that disturbed the peace that had finally settled over the school. Her panting and shrieks ringing out over the entire campus. And without more coffee she might fall asleep on her computer. She turns to the window and sees the sun about to dip past the horizon. “Oh man, Ah’ve been workin’ on this all…” 

She sees ‘The’ typed and an expanse of white haunting her. This wasn’t possible to do in two short weeks (less since her worried friends and teachers insisted she take at least a day or two to rest). Kelly would still like nothing more than to see her fail after what she did to his ceremony. 

She usually takes the past few years of her life in stride. She had no choice in the matter and moping in the last act of her childhood sounds foolish. But as she reflects on all the things she did when she was out of control, how people literally cross the street now (if she even leaves the school campus at all) when they see her, she doesn’t blame him. 

She doesn’t want to be that girl. 

The walking problem. From her skin to the predicament in her head, she’d truly rather suffer in silence than give the school one more thing to worry about. She can’t do it to them anymore. 

‘You are tired. Relinquish control to me…’ 

A pencil snaps in her hand as she fights the sweeping tide in her head. How much longer of this was she expected to stand? She sent Apocalypse away. She worked with the professor tirelessly. All she wants to be is a normal eighteen year old….

‘Please…. Just stop. Stop… Ah can’t take it,’

“Rogue?” Jean is standing in an olive-colored blouse and trying her hardest not to follow the girl’s distress directly. “Ororo asked about you.” The flushed girl smiled lamely but nothing gets past her intuitive teammate anymore. It seemed like she knew and felt everything sometimes. She even predicted the professor’s words. 

“Oh… She wanted to meditate today…” Even if she tries to hide it, Jean sees her stress as she looks at mountains of work piling up. “Ah don’t have time, Ah’m doin’ all the work Ah can and Ah’m still on pace to fail.” She watches in astonishment as the fallen papers rise and organize neatly on her desk (Jean doesn’t even raise her hands these days). “Maybe Ah should just be a plumber… Or a cage dancer,”

She’s not all too sure mutant college dreams come true. “Gosh, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Rogue isn’t sure what to think when the redhead takes a careful seat near her and gives a sympathetic look to the school work sprawling over the desk. “I could never bounce back after missing so much work…” 

Jean was an excellent student, but it was something she worked hard at. Most people couldn’t tell that, not even Scott. Rogue unfortunately is a great gauge of sincerity but she doesn’t detect any fibbing on the redhead’s part. Her hands are interlocked and her gaze troubled as she stared through the windows. “The truth is… I have to work hard at everything.” 

Rogue bites on the urge to contest that as she continued. “Like keeping my telepathy in check… So I don’t hear your thoughts right now, or the professor upstairs… Or Logan’s at the gate.” Rogue’s limited experience with her power made every thought in a five-mile radius rush into her brain. She never wanted to happen again. “You’re not alone, Rogue. I know it may feel like it but…” Jean chews her lip guiltily and Rogue realizes she knows her dirty little secret. 

“….” 

“I know your psyches are back. I can’t explain how,” Rogue doesn’t feel defensive for once as Jean tucks into herself. “I just felt them. It’s okay, I know you want to protect the professor but you don’t have to.” She smiles when thinks about the kind man. “He wants nothing more than to help you, Rogue. He would do anything.”

She feels foolishly emotional as she thinks about him. “What if there’s nothing he can do?” Her voice is low and hushed as Jean stares at the horizon. The same thought crosses her mind whenever he can’t look her in the eyes. 

“He’ll find something, Rogue. For both of us.” She‘s pretty surprised when she doesn’t flinch away from the hand that reached for her. A far cry from the girl who came to the institute. “I promise.” The short-haired girl isn’t sure what to say as Kurt and Kitty phased into the room eagerly. 

“Okay, step avayfrom the homevork.” Kurt demands, making finger guns at his sibling as she frowned at him. 

“We went to three different stores to find this.” In Kitty’s hand is a vintage copy of the Dracula movie Rogue loves. Her hair is frazzled and she looks worn out. “No more work for a second. The professor says we can go in the Rec Room for as long as we want.” Rogue is a bit concerned for her old roommate’s mental health. 

“Kitty. We talked about this. Ah’m graduatin’ on time if Ah have to rob a bank and steal a train to do it. Not with y’all.” 

“Vhat vill a train have to do vith things?” All eyes turn to an excited looking Hank an Ororo standing in the doorway (the latter looking rather comfortable). 

“You will need to do no such thing, my dear.” 

“You’ve done excellently on the work you have completed. Your brain and your body need to relax.” The white-haired woman looks at Rogue warmly and commends her efforts. She’s glad she was allowed to return to school, but she isn’t happy with a teacher saddling her with an impossible course-load (just to leave Bayville and run for senator). “Charles can reconcile you having… Some help.” 

Rogue’s mouth actually drops open as Jean smiles beside her. “A few classes over the summer to keep that mind I love so much sharp, you’ll be fine. You most of all just need to relax.” Jean sighs when she looks into an empty container of coffee. 

“Yeah, and to quit the coffee…” 

“Yes, my fräulein…. Have some fun. Please.” Rogue whimpers when he hooks his arm in his. He hadn’t forgiven himself for nearly driving Rogue off the team, out of the school, and into Gambit’s arms (it didn’t take him long to realize that mistake). He wouldn’t let her out of his sight now. “Come on. Haven’t you earned it?”

“Yeah, we’re just like…. Not letting you handle it. No offense but it didn’t go so well last time.” Rogue cracks a small smile at Kitty’s brazen honesty (a reason the two became so close). “So…. You basically have no choice?” 

“Are you sure….” A door shuts and Logan’s rasp is heard in a different room. 

“Yes. Mix the mint with the chocolate milkshake… Here, Rogue. Logan and I went to the place where you like to dip the french fries into the shake…” 

“The one two malls away.” The grumpy-sounding man hands Bobby a vanilla milkshake seamlessly as he passes by. Now as the goth girl thought about it there was only coffee in her stomach. For the first time in years she was kind of hungry. 

When Logan can sense that she’s appetized he smiled genuinely and hands her the bag to dig inside. “You eat? I was beginning to think you were an android.”   

“Good, you’ve been doing all this work but your brain needs fuel…” Jean smiles at her worrisome boyfriend and plants a hand on his chest. ‘Good job.’

‘Rogue, I don’t want to overstep but a friend mentions… Maybe we have more besides your teachings to catch up on.’ The telepath is directing her stare elsewhere but Rogue isn’t upset. Before, maybe she would’ve felt persecuted. Singled out and picked on. A different girl would’ve made a fight and a scene and stomped away from well-intentioned people. 

But, she was right. Doing things alone was the old way. The Mystique way, and that was done. ‘Yeah, Ah think so.’ Charles is almost startled by not having to plead or finesse this meeting out of her like he anticipated. She looked at her brother and Kitty and dared to hope that they’d all get through this. ‘But, like.. Maybe after tonight? We were gonna watch a movie…’

Charles doesn’t know what the future holds. He knows their troubles will keep coming like he’s already seen. But hearing her choose to spend time with the family she found gave him hope. That anyone could be okay. 

Rogue stood on the beach and admired the view while also keeping one eye on Olivier and Rebecca as they ran towards the waves. The 12 and 10 year olds plunged delightedly into the water. Gambit dropped their towels on the sand and stood beside Rogue.

“Doesn’t it seem ridiculous to you that we came all the way to Australia for vacation, and the first thing we do is go to the beach?” Rogue asked.

Gambit chuckled. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Rogue flashed a grin at him.

Moments later, Rogue and Gambit joined their kids in the water, splashing each other and being dunked by waves. In the next day or so, they would return with surfboards and build sandcastles.

Illustration of Rogue and Angel from Katjen’s awesome Romy fanfic, Cheating at Solitaire.