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?"
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I've cropped out the username because I have absolutely no desire to start drama or make a personal “callout” or have people go harass someone or anything like that (and if you take this kind of thing as an opportunity to go and be horrible to another Tumblr user then that is terrible and you should stop), but wow, I have never seen such a clanging example of amatonormativity. I don't think OP necessarily meant it this way, I don't think they meant any harm, I don't think they're consciously arophobic or something - it's far more likely that they're simply unfamiliar with aspec issues, and I always prefer to assume good faith - but I want to talk about this post anyway because it provides a really good and explicit example of the way society just sort of... asserts the centrality of romantic attraction and entirely forgets aromantic people exist.
I do want to first say that I actually agree with the initial point this post is making. Romance as a genre is unfairly derided as some kind of “lesser” form of art, and this derision very frequently comes with generous helpings of misogyny. I totally agree that romance is not at all an unintellectual or superficial thing to write about, and it's bad that it gets treated that way and that readers and writers of romance get so often mocked and condemned. Romance is a totally valid genre and enjoying it doesn't make you vain or stupid or superficial.
HOWEVER. As an aromantic person I find the rest of the post just... I don't know, it's just so perfect as a probably unwitting expression of baked-in cultural amatonormativity. It's brilliant. It's so funny to me. I can almost do a line-by-line breakdown of the way it so completely forgets the existence of aromantic people. In fact, let's do that.
It is so fundamental to us. The issue here should be pretty obvious. The assumption that romance is some integral part of The Human Experience and that it's fundamental to All People is pretty much amatonormativity 101. It reinforces the idea that people who don't experience romantic attraction are “lacking”, forever sitting apart from The Human Experience, and possibly in some way not quite fully human, since we don't experience the thing that is apparently so fundamental to humans.
To want to love and be loved. The post seems to be incorrectly equating “romance” with “loving and being loved”, when in fact there are many people who don't experience romantic attraction yet absolutely love and want to be loved. (And of course loveless aros, aplatonic people, various folks who don't “want to love and be loved” also exist, and it's important to emphasise that this desire, just like romantic attraction, is also not necessarily integral to all people.) “Love” is not automatically “romantic love”, but this post seems to imply that romance is the only, or default, form in which love can exist.
If you don't think every great work of literature. philosophy. metaphysics. was ultimately about romance. I don't think you were paying enough attention. OK this is the line that elevated this post from “sigh, more casual amatonormativity to scroll past” to “I just have to respond to this”. Where to even begin with this assertion. This is a level of “assuming romance is central to everything humans ever do and ever create” that I've almost never encountered before. It feels like a manifestation of the tendency for alloromantic people to declare that, because romance is very central for them, it is thus central to Everything. And I'm homing in on “romance” because the post doesn't say “ultimately about love” - which would still be a reach, but less of a reach - it specifically says “ultimately about romance”. As an aromantic person who is an academic at heart and highly educated in the humanities and social sciences, the idea that my ability to understand literature and philosophy and metaphysics is somehow greatly hampered by the fact that I don't experience or relate to romantic attraction is just... what??? This idea is really very funny to me but also genuinely pretty insulting, even though I'm sure it wasn't meant that way. Not only does it feel like the summation of every patronising “oh, you couldn't possibly understand” directed to aromantic adults who are, in fact, entirely capable of understanding, but it also flattens the incredible breadth of human intellectual experience into “being about romance”. I sometimes find myself wishing that alloromantic people would peak outside the bubble of amatonormativity and realise that actually, there is an enormous swathe of human experience and intellect and creativity and expression that has nothing at all to do with romantic attraction and romantic relationships. And no, stating that, I don't know, the Book of Job is not actually about romance has nothing to do with our society's misogynistic denigration of romance as a genre; it has everything to do with the fact that the Book of Job is not actually about romance. (And if you aren't familiar with Job or for some reason don't consider it a “great work of literature”, replace with whatever other example you can think of; there are many.) It's insulting to imply that aro-spec and/or ace-spec people are somehow less able to participate in art and literature and philosophy etc because we might bring a perspective that doesn't include romance or sex at all and we're just not capable of understanding that Actually Romance And/Or Sex Is Central To Everything. It's genuinely absurd to argue that all the pinnacles of human intellectual achievement really, at their core, come back to romance, and it speaks to our very blinkered society's tendency to declare things like “everything is really about sex” or “everything is really about romance” or “everything is really about breakups” or whatever and then look at aro-spec and ace-spec people like we're aliens and go “but like... how do you even live?” Newsflash, there is so much more to life than romance and love and sex. You can live an entire, very fulfilling, very meaningful, very thoughtful life without these things being at all relevant to you. That's not to dismiss those things as minor or unimportant - they are indeed very central to a lot of people's lives, and they're not “dumb” or “shallow” or whatever - but they're not central to everyone's lives, and they're hardly The Only Things In The World.
And if your response is something along the lines of “well OK there's a tiny minority of people who don't engage with romance and/or sex, or relate to it in the same way most people do, but that doesn't mean that romance isn't still at the core of humanity, or that all the most important things don't still have romance at their heart”, imagine telling a woman that “well, you can focus on a career if you want, but what's really fundamental to being a woman is being a wife and mother - in fact, motherhood is the most important thing in the world, it's fundamental to women, it's what all women's literature is about”. Or, hell, telling a person of any gender that “parenthood” is the central pillar of all of humanity and that every great work of art ever produced is ultimately about parenthood and obviously parenthood is fundamental to everyone's being - forgetting that actually some people will never be parents, and implying that their childlessness makes them less able to understand The Human Experience. That might give you some small idea of what it's like to be an aspec person and be repeatedly told that feelings you don't experience and relationships you don't have and attractions you don't relate to and acts you don't engage in are somehow Fundamental To Humanity and are what lie at The Core Of Everything: how excluding that is, how alienating that is, how oppressively stifling that is.
Feeling that love and/or romance and/or sex are very important to your own life is totally valid, but I wish alloromantics and allosexuals could be more capable of opening their minds and imagining and empathising with an existence for which these things aren't central. Our lives aren't lesser, or emptier, or sadder, or shallower for lack of romance or sex. Our experiences are part of The Human Experience. Our perspectives on art and life and relationships and philosophy and humanity and everything else are just as valid. We are just as capable of profundity, of creativity, of insight - because romance and sex aren't “at the core” of any of these things. We are here, and we're tired of being forgotten, ignored, sidelined, dismissed, erased, talked over, talked past. It would be great if society at large actually remembered we exist once in a while, and that our lives are just as beautiful and important as anyone else's.
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