"I can't control their fear, only my own"

✭anna✭21✭requests are closed! (only accepting drabbles and headcanon requests at the moment!)✭always here to talk!✭

[princessofmarvel]

once upon a time....a princess of marvel story

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about me: anna, leo, 21, she/her

if something is labeled 18+ you are responsible for what media you take in!

request : closed (drabbles and headcanons are open!)

main masterlist | who I write for

recent fics! begin again ~ robert montage renfield wonderland ~ robert Montague renfield

[beardedmrbean]

[theman]

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

[tattooedzombigirl]

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

[secondlina]

Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.

[sinksanksockie2]

w-what if potato is actually lucky

[princessofmarvel]

how dunk was dragging aerion

[princessofmarvel]

jack “I’ll pay for it” abbot everyone

[theameba8065]

[wandasilver12]

I’m Alive

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you die in the final battle, Steve believes he can still see you everywhere.

Warnings! Major character death (reader), angst, PTSD, swearing, hallucinations, Steve believes he's going crazy, medication, depression

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: First fic on tumblr hurray! I didn’t think my first fic would be angsty, but here we are! I can’t stop thinking about the west end proshot of Next to Normal, so this fic is inspired by it. Specifically, “I’m Alive (Reprise)”.

✧˖°── .✦────☼༺☆༻☾────✦.── °˖✧

Steve Harrington usually had everything together, or at least he could pretend to. That fact changed 18 months ago, since they defeated Vecna. Since he lost the love of his life. Since he lost you. Every night when he goes to sleep, he dreams of you, the light you brought into his life, and the moment someone blew it out. 

Steve still blames himself; he was supposed to protect you, but you shoved him out of the way. Everyone was attacking the Mindflayer, giving it their all to end the terror of the abyss, the upside down, and Vecna. You, Steve, and Dustin were attacking underneath the Mindflayer, stabbing it as much as you could with your makeshift spears. When Vecna was killed, the Mindflayer collapsed, causing the three of you to run as fast as you could to get out from underneath. But you weren’t fast enough. One of the Mindflayer’s arms was flying towards Steve, and you shoved him out of the way, but you got impaled by it. 

It was like the world silenced around him. He cried over your body until he was physically dragged away from you. He will never forgive himself for letting them leave your body there, never to be found again. It was supposed to be him, but you and your damn heart of gold had to save him because that was just you. 

Ever since then, everyone’s moved on, but not Steve. He couldn’t eat or sleep, just wanting to see you again, and eventually he did. Deep inside, he knew it wasn’t real, but he believed it was because he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it. He was able to hide that you were there for a long time until he slipped in front of Robin.

They were having just a casual hangout that felt weird when their trio was now a duo. Robin was going through her own grief, but knew Steve needed someone to lean on while he was learning how to live in a world without you. Robin thought he was learning how to process his grief, and he was, but not in the way Robin thought he was.

“You seem to be doing better. I know it’s been tough, but you’re getting through it, and that's what matters,” Robin spoke up while they were hanging out at the WSQK.

“Yeah, that final battle, Vecna’s final moments left scars on us all. Y/N has said that we need to remember that we’re all going through what happened in our own ways, and we need to be there for everyone. I’m trying to listen to her, but it's hard because the kids act fine and won’t talk to us.”

“Steve” Robin treaded carefully. “What do you mean, Y/N has said. Did she tell you that before what happened?”

“What? No. She told me that two days ago, after Dustin came by. You know she really misses you, Rob. You should come by and visit.” Steve replied.

Robin put her hand on Steves not fully knowing how to handle the conversation.

“Steve, you know that's not possible. Y/N… Y/N died during the final battle, remember?” 

“What do you mean? Robin, I think I would know if the love of my life died. I saw her yesterday and the day before that. She’s alive,” Steve defended.

It was worse than Robin thought. How does one help someone who is dealing with their grief like Steve is?

“No, she was killed by the Mindflayer. Steve, whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real. Y/N isn’t here. She’s gone.”

“No, No she’s not, she can't be.” Steve became quiet, thinking, and eventually he remembered. He cried harder than he did when you first died. He was reliving his grief. Robin held onto him and stayed with him to make sure he was okay. This instance had happened several times afterwards.

Eventually, Robin was able to convince Steve to go to therapy. The therapist put Steve on medication to make his visions go away. It seemed to be working; Steve hasn’t mentioned you, and he seemed like he was actually processing his grief. He got a job and seemed to be just starting to find comfort in his life.

✧˖°── .✦────☼༺☆༻☾────✦.── °˖✧

It was the party’s graduation day. Steve went to support the little nuggets that were yours and his. You would be so proud of them, and that fact alone made Steve want to cry. He let Robin convince him to hang out with her, Jonatha,n and Nancy afterwards at the WSQK. Everything seemed to be going well. They were all talking, facing the transmitter tower, just talking.

Then it happened.

Steve heard you before he saw you.

“I am more than memory.”

Steve stared at the transmitter until his eyes hurt, and he saw you standing all the way at the top. Your hair was blowing in the wind, and the light was hitting you just right. You looked like an angel.

“I am what might be. I am  mystery. Come closer”

Steve put his arm on Robin's shoulder to steady himself.

“Robin,” Steve said breathlessly.

“Come closer.”

Steve listened and started to move to the ladder that would let him off the building to go to you.

“Steve, there’s nothing there,” Nancy said carefully.

“I am old as time and forever young. I am every song that will stay unsung, I'll find you.” You spoke again causing Steve to move faster.

“Damnit!” Robin exclaimed and started to chase after Steve before he got himself killed.

“Remind you,” You were calling to him, and Steve was answering, wanting, needing to see you.

“Y/N,” Steve said, running toward the tower shed to turn off the electricity.

“Steve, come back!” Robin was full-on chasing him now.

Steve got inside the shed and turned the dial. For a split second, he was confused. He was sure the dial color was grey, but now it was red. But that didn’t matter now; you were what mattered. Steve began to climb the tower to get to you. Robin was still at the bottom and was looking up at the tower in disbelief.

“Until you name me, you can't tame me; this is one old game that I can play so well.”

Robin shook her head, convincing herself it was just a trick of the light. She started climbing up the tower chasing after Steve. At this point, Nancy and Jonathon stood at the bottom of the tower, noticing that the lights started flickering. Steve was almost to you.

“I'm alive, I am so alive, and the medicine failed, and the doctors lied.”

The WSQK started to play music even though no one was there. Take a Chance on Me by ABBA started to play, and that was the song. The song that you decided was yours and Steve’s. The lights started to flicker even more. Something was very wrong. 

“I'm alive, I'm alive. I am death defied, I'm alive.”

Much to their disbelief, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathon could all hear you now. 

“It’s a code. She’s telling us something,” Nancy said. Nancy and Jonathon ran inside to radio the others to get over the WSQK as soon as they could. Steve finally made it up to you with Robin not far behind. Steve ran up to you, and when he tried to hug you, there was nothing but air. He started to cry, tugging at his prized hair, realizing it was just another hallucination, which meant his meds weren’t working anymore. Robin finally caught up with him, engulfing him in a hug. 

“She’s not there, Robin. I can’t keep doing this. Why isn’t she there? I’m going crazy, I don’t know what to do,” Steve said between sobs.

“Steve, I need you to look at me. I see her too.” Robin said, and Steve looked at her, stunned.

“I'm alive, I’m alive,” you said again, and Steve and Robin both acknowledged you now.

“What, Robin-” Steve began.

“No, listen to me. I don’t know what's going on, but the lights are flickering, your guy's song is playing over and over. Somehow, we all see and hear her. I don’t know what's going on, but this is real, and you have to talk to her,” Robin said, while Steve nodded his head.

“Y/N, are you there? Speak to me, please. I’m right here, and so is Robin. We just need you to talk to us.”

At the sound of his voice, you look straight at Steve.

“Steve,” you said, like you couldn’t believe he heard you.

Nancy and Jonathon then ran out of the tower with a walkie in hand, hearing your voice through the walkie.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s Steve, I'm here.”

“Steve, I need you to listen to me.” You tried to grab him but couldn’t; you knew your time was short, and you had to tell him. “I have been trying to reach you for a long time. I’m alive, none of this is real. You guys are all trapped in Vecna’s mind. You are the twelve, not the kids, you. Vecna’s alive, and you need to find a way out.” You said hurriedly. 

“What, no, we defeated Vecna. You and El died to save us.” Steve said, still believing he is crazy.

“El is here with me, we woke up after we ‘died’ and got out. We’re hiding, we’re trying to get you guys out. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m real, and I’m alive, I promise. Take a Chance on me, Steve Harrington,”  you said, referencing something special between you two.

“If you are telling the truth, how would we even know how to get out? This doesn’t look like Vecna’s mind from how Holly and Max described it,” Robin said.

“You need to find something that looks wrong, something that has changed or shouldn’t be here. I don’t know how much time I have, find the party, Holly, Joyce, Hop, Nancy, and Jonathon. It's only you guys; everyone else isn’t real. Don’t let them find out you know what’s going on. We’ll keep trying to play your songs to help you. I love you, Steve Harrington, come and find me,” You said, and you started to disappear.

“Robin, she’s right. The color on the dial is wrong. I didn’t think anything of it before, but now?” Steve said, realizing the situation.

“Okay, we need to get out of here. Thank goodness your girlfriend is a badass.” Robin replied, trying to make light of their situation.

They started to head down the tower, and Steve looked back at you as you were disappearing again. He still couldn’t believe that you were real and he wasn’t crazy. You seemed to notice his hope, but also his doubt. As a goodbye, you said two final words to remind him it's real. “I’m alive.”

✧˖°── .✦────☼༺☆༻☾────✦.── °˖✧

a/n: So, I decided to do conformity gate! There will be a part two to this one, so stay tuned! Also, I don't own any rights to Next to Normal or Stranger Things.

[princessofmarvel]

EVERYONE GO READ MY BESTIES FIRST TUMBLR FIC NOW!!! I’M SO EXCITED!!! 🥳🥳🥳

[princessofmarvel]

GOD I wanna start writing again…I have some ideas hehe

[princessofmarvel]

Johnny storm warming up his hand just enough to lay on your stomach while you’re on your period…that’s it, that’s the post

[discokicks]

so. who’s gonna do it. who’s gonna be the first to write the fic with bob and yelena crawling around in the vents and alexei eating pop tarts and walker and ava fighting about what they’re watching for movie night

[userilyarozanov]

idk how to articulate how fucking stupid it is to call it a "creative decision" after killing off the character whose whole storyline is about creating his second chance and building a family again and being worthy of love despite your past and just. for what. for him to die alone. all 8 seasons of that just for him to fucking die alone.

[princessofmarvel]

THIS!!!

[mostly-imagines]

Careless Accidents

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you get hurt and jason’s pissed

warnings: reader’s wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed too hard

You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.

You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like they’re in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.

Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.

“Hey,” Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. “We’re doing alright for ourselves,” she said smugly. 

“Yeah,” you’d nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did. 

“Okay listen, I think the flag—” what flag? “—is by the fountain so, I think because there’s three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.”

“We’re on teams?” you asked, no longer completely sure you know what you’re playing. 

“We are now!” she smiled, starting to run. “I’ll bait!”

She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, “Don’t trust Cass,” before scurrying away.

Rather than sit around and wait there for…something?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.

What you didn’t see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear. 

What you also didn’t see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. You’d mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.

Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.

“Are you okay?” she signs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” 

The response was instinctual and you didn’t actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it. 

You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. They’re savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern. 

“You good?” Tim asked, approaching languidly.

“That looked like it hurt,” Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.

Dick shook his head, “No, she’s okay.” He turned to you, prodding, “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m, um…” you winced, looking at your wrist. “It hurts a little.”

Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. “It might be sprained.”

Dick paled. 

“No.”

Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, “We can get it wrapped upstairs.”

“No.”

You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanie’s face, begging to break.  

“Ooooh. He’s gonna kill you.”

Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.

“You know I didn’t mean to grab you that hard right? I—” 

Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dick’s now-third explanation/apology for the incident. 

“I know, Dick,” you say, trying to appease him. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you genuinely, but you can tell there’s more there that he isn’t verbalizing.

You nod, “I know, Dick. It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that she’s all done. 

You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.

He takes a deep breath, “What if…what if you avoid him until it heals?”

“Dick.”

He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes, 

He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.

“Are you going to tell him?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing for bad news.

You shake your head sympathetically, “No. I can’t guarantee you that he won’t find out, but I won’t tell him.”

Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. “Okay. Okay.” He stands, “I need to go.”

You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically. 

Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.

“I’ll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.”

Tim barks out, “Absolutely not.” He looks at his brother, still laughing. “No fucking way.”

Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. “Five.”

A deadpan from Tim. 

“You don’t have five thousand dollars.”

Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. “Dude, please! He’ll kill me!”

Tim scoffs, “He’d kill me!”

Dick huffs, “No, it’s different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?” 

“Well then it sounds like you fucked up,” Tim sneers.

“Oh my God.”

He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?

He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.

The latter sits up with a tense brow, “Master Dick?”

The former turns around in his seat, “What’s the matter?”

Dick struggles for a second before confessing, “I accidentally sprained someone's wrist.” 

Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. “Alright…you’ll have to take responsibility for their patrol duties—”

Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, “Said person doesn’t have any patrol duties to be affected...”

Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.

“I can’t help you.”

Dick’s panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.

Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, “You don’t think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?”

“I—I don’t know!” Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t know what to do!”

Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, “Dick, when you make a mistake…you have to submit to the consequences, you know that.”

Dick gapes, “This is not a normal consequence!”

Meanwhile, you’ve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jason’s childhood bedroom. 

You’re admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.

“Hey, Jay,” you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.

He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you. 

Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back. 

You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. “How’s the bike?”

“Better than it was this morning,” he sighs. “Where’ve you been?”

He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you. 

You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. “Uh, we were outside, playing…at least three separate games at once.”

The second you’re in proximity, your hands join like it’s second nature. 

He nods, all too familiar with the family’s unique methods of gamefair.

“Did th—” He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. “What happened?”

You glance down, shrugging. “Overexerted myself playing tag.”

He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.

He turns your hand over gently, asking, “Is it sprained?”

You nod, relaxed. “Yeah. Cass said it’s mild.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. “Barely hurt then.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied with the conversation.

Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt. 

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?” he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following. 

“Yeah,” you say gaily. “Alfred said he’s making his ‘special spaghetti’, apparently it’s a household favorite?”

He wavers, halfway to between decisions. “Yeah…”

He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. “Can I see it?”

You nod, happy to ease his mind. 

You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.

You both see it at the same time—the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.

You’re both quiet for a second—him putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.

He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.

“Fucking idiot—”

You try for his hand but he’s out of reach before you can grab it.

“I’ll be right back,” he grumbles behind him.

“Jason—” you sigh, “At least help me wrap it back up first.”

He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.

You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. “It was just an accident,” you tell him. 

He scoffs, “It better have been.”

You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. “Jason. I’m not made of glass, you can’t expect other people to act like it.”

“I don’t. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he can’t do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.”

You sigh, “Just don’t do anything harsh. Please. I think he’s worried you’re gonna punch him.”

“He should be,” he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly. 

You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, “You’re not going to. Right?”

He doesn’t answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, “Right?”

His eyes roll, “Yeah, fine.”

You smile, holding his face. “I love you.”

He huffs as though he’s inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. “I love you.”

He looks you in the eye, face serious. “You promise me it doesn’t hurt?”

“I promise,” you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.

“Dick!”

The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.

He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes. 

“Where is he?”

Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding. 

Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.

He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. “Stephanie?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “But let me know when you find him, I wanna see—”

But Jason’s moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.

He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.

There’s a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what they’re seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail. 

“Really? Really?” Jason shouts. 

“It was an accident! It was a fucking—” 

He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.

“Are you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherf—”

Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.

Dick takes a breath, “Dude, it’s fine now, it’s not that big of a—”

Jason recoils, “‘It’s not a big deal’? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!”

He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him. 

Dick throws his hands up in front of him, “Wait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?”

Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. “You can’t call a truce if you’re the only one who did anything wrong.”

“I…” It doesn’t take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option. 

“Please?” Dick asks, nothing short of imploring. 

Jason relents—slightly—upon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as he’d been planning to. 

“I told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hard—” 

Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. “I know, I know—”

“Clearly you fucking don’t!” Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. “You sprained her wrist. You’ve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?”

Dick grimaces, “I do! I do, I just screwed up, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t—” Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, “Did you apologize to her?”

 “Yeah, of course I did!”

For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body. 

The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.

It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, “Idiot,” before pushing him once more. 

“Jason.”

Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption. 

You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.

He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.

“I didn’t hit him.”

⭐️ your options are: (1) reblog fics or (2) be a little bitch ⭐️

[princessofmarvel]

what if i start writing again…just a thought

[princessofmarvel]

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

Sharing!!!

[shelbydelrey]

WARNING

Please stay away from @scentedbananadefendor. He's a predator that has a history of catfishing and manipulating women in the Cillian Murphy/Peaky Blinders fandom. BLOCK HIM and do not give him attention! For added context, you can read through the PSA - Community Predator made back in March where the people victimized reveal his abuse.

tagging a few of my mutuals to help spread awareness: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @copinghex @thomashelbyswife @moral-terpitude @julyzaa @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark @peakyltd

[princessofmarvel]

For all the people who followed me for my Peaky blinders/Thomas Shelby/Jonathan Crane/Cillian Murphy content !!

[imposterogers]

deadpool 3 was such a refreshingly good comic book film because the writers like what they’re writing about. the actors like the characters they’re playing. the source material & decades of storytelling was actually taken into account. there was lots of explosions n shit but the most important part of the story were the characters. imagine that

[logansdoll]

I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one

-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.

Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james

I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good

I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.

contingency

running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.

'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'

With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.

Why couldn't he just remember?

He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.

But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.

Something crucial.

"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."

Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.

In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.

"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."

A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.

"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."

"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.

'Fuck it.'

Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.

He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.

Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.

Yet he knew he wasn't.

He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.

For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.

Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.

He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.

EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency

Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.

"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.

So home-like.

Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.

Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.

And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.

Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.

"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."

"No..."

"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.

He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."

"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.

"I can't..."

"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."

"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.

"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"

Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.

"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.

"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.

"She can't..."

"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."

Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.

"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."

He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.

"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"

He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."

"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.

How could he have ever forgotten you?

Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.

Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.

He could remember so clearly now.

You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.

No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.

Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.

With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.

Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.

He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.

Logan couldn't find the words.

The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.

"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"

You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.

"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.

Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"

"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"

He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.

"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.

"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"

Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.

'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'

Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.

"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"

In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.

"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.

"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.

Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

[benjinotes-deactivated20250217]

save me team black man. SAVE ME.