ITEM! FOOM-tastic Fanfic to Start the Ficcers Ficcking
Howdy!
'Tis I, buzzylittleb. FOOM is a fan community, and we're fan-fiction friendly provided it fits in with the little pre-1987 rule. It's that simple.
So, we thought I'd kick things off with a little ficlet, starring Wolverine and Rogue after his not-quite-wedding to Mariko in Uncanny X-men 173.
The kid was getting cocky. She thought Danver’s strength and powers could save her from anything. Kid didn’t realise that there aren’t any absolutes, no certainties…
She’s picking her way through the fire and the ash laughing.
No certainties. There’s no predicatable future. He should know that, yet it took Mariko to remind him.
Rogue’s dancing, her feet scant inches from the burning floor.
He should have realised that she wasn’t for him, was never for him. He’s not the sort of guy to deserve somebody like her. Guy, heh, there were times Logan forgot that he wasn’t quite a man at all. Just some animal, enslaved by his senses, not reason. If it were otherwise, he’d have seen it coming.
She’s one step off turning cartwheels behind him. She thinks he hasn’t noticed. She thinks that they are good now, like Logan and Carol were good. If they were, than she’d know to leave him alone right now.
Was Logan an animal dreaming he was a man or a man dreaming he was an animal? He’ll leave that one for Elf; he was the one to think about things like that. Elf, kneeling, on a spaceship, thousands of miles and only a year away, talking about divine plans as he was about to be eaten from the inside by some monstrous progeny.
Rogue is definitely Raven’s daughter, laughing and cocksure. He can’t see much of Irene in her - except for the sadness that sometimes creeps into her eyes and the tell-tale smell of salt.
Belief makes things complicated. Blind faith, like this ragtag team have in Charley makes things even more so. Logan knows for certain, he could never have been what Mariko deserved. But then, there’s no such thing as certainty.
The creeping lizard monster leaps out of hiding, claws out. Rogue kicks him in two like she’s flicking dirt off her slippers.
'Tis I, buzzylittleb. FOOM is a fan community, and we're fan-fiction friendly provided it fits in with the little pre-1987 rule. It's that simple.
So, we thought I'd kick things off with a little ficlet, starring Wolverine and Rogue after his not-quite-wedding to Mariko in Uncanny X-men 173.
The kid was getting cocky. She thought Danver’s strength and powers could save her from anything. Kid didn’t realise that there aren’t any absolutes, no certainties…
She’s picking her way through the fire and the ash laughing.
No certainties. There’s no predicatable future. He should know that, yet it took Mariko to remind him.
Rogue’s dancing, her feet scant inches from the burning floor.
He should have realised that she wasn’t for him, was never for him. He’s not the sort of guy to deserve somebody like her. Guy, heh, there were times Logan forgot that he wasn’t quite a man at all. Just some animal, enslaved by his senses, not reason. If it were otherwise, he’d have seen it coming.
She’s one step off turning cartwheels behind him. She thinks he hasn’t noticed. She thinks that they are good now, like Logan and Carol were good. If they were, than she’d know to leave him alone right now.
Was Logan an animal dreaming he was a man or a man dreaming he was an animal? He’ll leave that one for Elf; he was the one to think about things like that. Elf, kneeling, on a spaceship, thousands of miles and only a year away, talking about divine plans as he was about to be eaten from the inside by some monstrous progeny.
Rogue is definitely Raven’s daughter, laughing and cocksure. He can’t see much of Irene in her - except for the sadness that sometimes creeps into her eyes and the tell-tale smell of salt.
Belief makes things complicated. Blind faith, like this ragtag team have in Charley makes things even more so. Logan knows for certain, he could never have been what Mariko deserved. But then, there’s no such thing as certainty.
The creeping lizard monster leaps out of hiding, claws out. Rogue kicks him in two like she’s flicking dirt off her slippers.