#powerful force
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
juanitazunino1965blog · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
680 notes · View notes
howifeltabouthim · 11 months ago
Text
There is so much power in the way we obsess. If we could only harness it. If we would only redirect it.
Lisa Taddeo, from Animal
34 notes · View notes
nature-godsgardenofeden · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
love ❤️ POWERful force
4 notes · View notes
vertigoartgore · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rachel Summers as the Phoenix by artist Alan Davis.
10 notes · View notes
fieriframes · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
[Wishful thinking is a powerful force.]
26 notes · View notes
boxmakesart · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Eldritch Miku omgggg
36K notes · View notes
spookberry · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
this came to me in a vision
16K notes · View notes
painted-lemon · 1 year ago
Text
um can we make this a real thing??????
Tumblr media
please tag any other fandom that could use this meme format
23K notes · View notes
wanologic · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
and they were roommates
4K notes · View notes
itsyourchoicedevotionals · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Very Real Powerful Force
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” Philippians 4:4NIV
For 21 days I’ve been on a public fast. Fasting always reveals areas needed correcting. Afterwards, prayers are answered. This time has been no different. Yahweh Adonai has been working amazing things into my heart.
One area— truly rejoicing. “Always be joyful. Never stop praying” 1Thessalonians 5:16-17NLT. Face it— where there’s more needs than money— new laws written daily to take away more of our freedoms— corruption in every area, including the churches— enemy armies crossing our borders in-mass to take over our nation— children being used trafficked to sick perverts— life tends to become too heavy to bear. Rest assured! We’re not the first people to see these evils and feel overwhelmed.
Problem is: we’re looking in the wrong direction. Jesus said, “Now when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near”” Luke 21:28NKJV. The Lord Yahweh is our Savior. Government leaders and laws aren’t. Jehovah has not, nor will He change. Look to Him, He’s the same “yesterday, today, and forever,” Hebrews 13:8.
LORD God sent me to Genesis to read. Corruption abounded, so much so that God regretted making humanity. He was ready to destroy everyone. But— “Noah, however, found favor in the eyes of the LORD” Genesis 6:8BSB. Ending? Noah and his entire family were spared in the ark during the flood.
Question: Where did all the sin come from between Genesis 6 and 19 when God pulled Lot and family out of Sodom? Noah walked with God, his sons didn’t, even after seeing the flood, his sons didn’t walk with God. As for Lot, angels rescued him, and daughters, Genesis 19, God spared his two girls, knowing their penchant for incest. Noah and Lot trust in God to take care of them. saved their families also— God knows how their hearts would have mourned losing their children. Is it any different for us today?
Nehemiah, and the Israelites had returned from seventy years of captivity in Babylon. The younger ones probably didn’t even fully understand the importance of returning to Israel. When they returned, neighboring lands were trying to kill them, while they built a wall for protection, (maybe like a border wall.) As they finally finished their work enough to read the scriptural laws, they realized how sinful they were. Remorse came, but they were instructed ‘don’t cry —celebrate’— “…Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10ESV. Take the phrase “of the LORD” out of the preceding verse— “for the joy…is your strength.” Joy isn’t a fleeting emotion but a very real powerful force of walking with the Lord, sharing intimacy. This joy force requires us to look at Jesus— (Yeshua Hamashiach in Hebrew), as the Supreme Being, all powerful, undefeatable. Satan and fear cannot stand up against joy and rejoicing. They have to flee, (see James 4:7).
Rejoicing like fasting brings promises. Yahweh has promised me— “‘Do not fear [anything], for I am with you; Do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, be assured I will help you; I will certainly take hold of you with My righteous right hand [a hand of justice, of power, of victory, of salvation]’” Isaiah 41:10AMP. Like Noah and Lot were rescued— While all the evil is surrounding us, we have nothing to fear. Our salvation is near. Will you look up and rejoice? It’s your choice. You choose.
LET’S PRAY: Yahweh thank You for teaching us the power of joy, and Your mercy for us who believe. Help us to rejoice more, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.
by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2024 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.
0 notes
romancemedia · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🌈Happy Pride Month (2024)🌈
6K notes · View notes
bixels · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Scary Sunset.
I'm concepting things way outta order in this story, but I'm sure you can piece things together. Context is for a storybeat where, after defeating and capturing Adagio (thus having all three sirens in her possession), Sunset enacts her revenge plot to release the sirens on Canterlot as Thea discovers she's been manipulated. In a confrontation, the two scuffle and fight over the siren orbs while Sunset struggles with her conflicting wants and emotions.
3K notes · View notes
fonmythenmetz · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The most powerful force user to ever live (smol)
2K notes · View notes
siltyriver · 1 year ago
Text
I am such a slut for Danny having supernatural strength and being able to kill someone with a single slap because he’s used to fighting ghosts who are built Sturdy (and literally can’t die, that is very helpful in a sparing partner) so he has to learn such meticulous control when he moves to Gotham where he starts regularly getting into scuffles with humans who think he’s an easy target (he looks like he has the sturdiness of a wet newspaper) and the whole time he’s more stressed about not drawing the Bats attention by being too good or accidentally killing someone so he has to walk that fine line of acting like a scrawny loser and dipping out at his first chance without being clocked as a meta.
Danny, laying on the ground and getting kicked repeatedly by a thug: *tries to angle himself so the guy can kick out a knot in his back*
Danny: *deadpan* oh, ow, stop that hurts, oof
Robin, watching from the rooftop and recognizing the dramatics from the Supers: father there is a meta
Batman, also watching and having flashbacks to Clark’s earlier days: *so so tired and already mentally getting the adoption paperwork ready*
4K notes · View notes
contact-guy · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
INTERLUDE - in which everyone goes to various clubs and no one has a good time.
This is part of the Watson's Sketchbook series and really will only make sense in context of previous updates!
The text of Holmes' letter is almost entirely pulled from the ABSOLUTELY BRUTAL opening of A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA:
It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his.
2K notes · View notes
marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago
Text
Nobody Important
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 
Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.
Tumblr media
When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 
Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 
Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”
Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 
“Who are you?”
“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”
“That depends. Who are you?”
“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”
Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 
However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”
You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”
“Okay, fine. What are you?”
You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
“Alright, listen bub-”
“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”
Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”
Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 
“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”
After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 
“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”
He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 
Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 
But he still had questions. 
Unanswered questions. 
Like who the hell were you? 
A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 
In the kitchens. 
The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 
Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 
And somehow
It was relaxing to him. 
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 
“Err, no. I was just-”
“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”
“I don’t really drink..tea.” 
Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 
You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 
“Here, try this.”
“Oh, I, uh-”
“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 
And he did. 
“Is this where you work?”
You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 
“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”
You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”
Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”
You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”
Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 
“Hey, what’s in this tea?”
“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”
Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 
“Hey, what did you put in this?”
Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 
Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 
Then he jerked up. 
With a grunt, he looked around him. 
He was in his room. 
The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 
Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 
The Professor’s office. 
Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 
“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”
“What the hell happened?” 
“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”
Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 
“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”
Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 
“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”
Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”
Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”
“Are you always this blunt?”
You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”
“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”
“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”
Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”
“She started it!”
You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”
With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 
“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”
“Have to admit, though. I did help.”
Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 
Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 
Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 
But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 
Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 
It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.
Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 
“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 
“Are you going to drug me again?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”
“Really, like what?”
Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”
“They actually sell this stuff?”
You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”
Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 
Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”
Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 
“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”
“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”
You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”
“Will you?”
“Will I do what?”
“Go to bed, too?”
You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”
“What are you even doing?”
“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”
Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 
“Okay, fine.”
And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 
The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 
Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 
You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 
He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 
More so, when he saw your shoulder. 
From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 
Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 
“New recipe?”
You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”
“Better luck next time.”
And then you both just…talked. 
You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 
“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”
You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 
“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”
It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.
“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”
Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 
Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 
Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 
The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 
And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 
“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”
Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 
Fast asleep. 
He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 
Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 
Hell, even he needed sleep. 
But you were just constantly forever going. 
Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 
You were fast asleep. 
Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 
Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 
You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 
Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 
He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 
A heavy blanket. 
He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 
Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 
He turned around but you were still. 
Then you whimpered again. 
“No,” you whispered. 
Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 
He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 
Except you reached out for his hand. 
Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 
But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 
You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 
Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 
A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 
Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 
“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 
“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”
Your head shifted. You were searching. 
“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”
“L…Logan?” 
The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.
He was shocked. Maybe…
“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”
The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 
And glowed. 
They were still your eyes just…brighter. 
“Logan?!”
He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”
The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 
Then everything stopped. 
Everything went silent. 
Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 
Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 
You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 
“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”
He took you by your shoulders then your face. 
“It’s Logan.”
You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 
“Logan,” you breathed. 
“Yeah…”
Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 
“What happened?”
“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”
You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 
Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 
“What happened?”
You shook your head. “Nothing-”
“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”
You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 
Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 
“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”
“So what happened?”
“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”
“And that’s what the nightmares…”
You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”
You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 
Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”
You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 
“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”
Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 
“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”
“Was he the one that-”
You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”
“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”
You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”
The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 
“I just can’t.”
Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”
“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”
You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 
“Don’t let them win.”
You nodded, your head still in his hands. 
“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”
It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 
“You don’t-”
“I can stay.”
You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 
Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 
“Thank you for staying.”
It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 
Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”
You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 
As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 
The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 
Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 
From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 
And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 
Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 
Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 
And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 
Because Logan already knew. 
And so did you. 
And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 
2K notes · View notes