BOY WITH A COIN.

A private roleplay blog for XMCU's Erik Lehnsherr. Follows back from BLINDSOLDIER. Please note that while I have played Erik on other blogs in the past, this is a new incarnation of him and previous relationships do not apply. This blog may contain triggering themes, such as the Holocaust, the aftermath of trauma, and abuse.

[aromanticmagneto]

one for your enemy, one for yourself

[magswasright]

Erik thinking as hard as he can about some certain number or color and waiting for Haven to pick it up

FUCKDJNF its like when youre in a grocery store and you suddenly wonder if telepaths exist so you just think HEY ARE THERE ANY TELEPATHS HERE as loudly as possible

[magswasright]

Erik starting to suspect Haven is a low level telepath who just never realized it because how the hell else is she so empathetic and always knows what's up with people especially if they're hurting (fun fact this is Hex's actual theory and I've had someone else say they think she could be a latent Inhuman "or something") also starts thinking maybe that would explain her interest in mutant welfare she must have been biologically drawn to her genetic kin

whEEZES honestly yes

[magswasright]

Mags: "Mutant culture! Mutant art! Mutant music! These things must be created and celebrated and protected!" Chrome: "hey this mutant band is having a concert would you like to g--" Mags" "no"

fffCUCK

Y E P 

[magswasright]

(not that Fabian would ever actually fucking say this in front of Mags, but) "God, the legs on her." "YES. MUTANT LEGS TO RACE TO THE REVOLUTION. MUTANT LEGS TO KICK THE FOUNDATION OF OPPRESSION OUT FROM UNDER THOSE WHO PROFIT FROM IT. MUTANT LEGS TO TRAMPLE ALL WHO STAND IN OUR WAY." "PRECISELY MY LORD." (also if you have a headache get off the computer, have some water, and nap, you egg <3)

kfjhdjSDKFJSDHF MUTANT LEGS TO RACE TO THE REVOLUTION

I’M FUCKING LOSING IT

[magswasright]

I think Fabian saying something and Erik relating it back to The Cause and Fabs acting like THAT IS TOTALLY WHAT HE MEANT ALL ALONG will become my new fave running joke now

HONESTLY SAME

(ALSO SORRY FOR SHORT RESPONSES I HAVE A HEADACHE <3)

[magswasright]

You: *has muse that makes speeches * You: *hates writing speeches* Me: * has muse that will make ALL THE SPEECHES FOR YOURS* Me: *and also that muse's twig friend who won't shut up either*

THANK G-D 

[magswasright]

@profxisajerk (from here)

That’s not quite what Charles is asking, and it frustrates him, not being able to put his thoughts into words. Of course, he could simply project his thoughts into Erik’s mind. But he’s remembering what Erik told him, so long ago: “You think because you can see into my head you know how it feels? You’re looking in the wrong place, Charles.”

“It’s been a long time since I had to guess,” Charles says, quietly. “How do you tell what someone is feeling? How do you - feel it?”

Erik stares at him, in that flat, mildly curious way, turning the question over in his mind. It makes sense, he supposes, to ask that, the same way Erik might question how someone can just not know where they are based on the earth’s magnetic field. But feeling someone else’s emotions? 

“You... don’t,” he says simply. “Or I don’t. I never really understood...” Something lingers there, in the back of his mind. A set of flashcards. He shoves it away, concentrates on tracing his fingertips up and down Charles’ arm instead, watching them move. 

“I don’t think you can really feel what someone else is feeling without telepathy. You can only read it from their behaviour.”

[magswasright]

Charles is curled up in Erik's arms and in Erik's mind, comfortable in the cold, sharp-edged trap that is Erik's brain. "Sometimes I envy you, Erik," he says. "You never doubt."

“Some would say I could use a little doubt, now and then,” Erik murmurs, arms wrapped securely around the telepath. The side of his face is pressed affectionately to the top of Charles’ head, cheek occasionally rubbing against the smoothness there, intrigued by the texture. “But I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine constantly second-guessing.”

[magswasright]

"Erik?" It's an idle thought, one that causes Charles to turn over in bed and nudge his bedmate in the shoulder. "What's it like? Not being able to read minds?"

He twitches at the nudge, glaring sharply over his shoulder before the question distracts his attention entirely. Erik blinks at him, then rolls onto his other side to face Charles, tucking an arm under the pillow. He’s heard countless people ask what it’s like to be able to read minds, never the other way around, and it fascinates him. He almost says, couldn’t you just read my mind and find out?, but thinks better of it, considering.

“You never know what anyone’s thinking or feeling, ever.” He shrugs one shoulder, watching Charles’ face in the half-light. “Even if they tell you - you don’t know if they’re lying or not. You simply have to guess.”

[profxisajerk]

“In so many ways, Charles Xavier was the most decent and honorable and caring man I’ve ever known. But I realize now, he was also the most ruthless.”

⨂  Indie multiverse Charles Xavier ⨂  XMCU (young & old), Comics, & Ultimates verses ⨂  Friendly & experienced mun ⨂  Mun & muse 21+ ⨂  Multiship ⨂  AU & OC friendly

                                      Rules  ⨂ Verses  ⨂ Tags

[a-thousand-words]

Every morning, I wake up and forget just for a second that it happened. But once my eyes open, it buries me like a landslide of sharp, sad rocks. Once my eyes open, I’m heavy, like there’s to much gravity on my heart.

Sarah Ockler   (via soldatzimy)

[derekheale]

Visit Original Link

I’ll be good, I’ll be good for all of the times I never could.

[magswasright]

IM LAUGHING UR ERIK AND MY SHAW SENT CHARLES THE SAME DAMN ASK

F U KC KKSDH 

SCREAMS

[amoodywitch]

Jewish Aesthetic

[pyrophantom]

There’s A Good Reason There’s Blood On My Hands

[magswasright]

Charles looked exhausted and defeated when he came to bed that night. He lifted himself into bed alongside Erik and reached out for him. His hands were shaking.

He’s been aware of Charles’ approach since the wheelchair first drew into the hallway, sleepily watching the doorway to wait for him. Erik doesn’t say anything as Charles prepares for bed; he’s still half-asleep (which is a rarity in itself) until the bed dips on Charles’ side, and he reaches out for Erik like he’s ready to collapse.

“Charles,” Erik murmurs, shifting himself up a little to gather Charles into his arms, hooking one leg around both of the other’s to draw them close, too. Erik gives off heat like a furnace, nuzzling his face into the top of Charles’ head and stroking a hand soothingly between his shoulder blades.

“Bist du gut?” He still sounds somewhat sleepy, but it’s wearing off fast. “What’s wrong?”