i am the opposite of amnesia.

❝I'm here to tell you, to tell the world, you're right to fear us! We are the future! We are the ones who will inherit this earth! And anyone who stands in our way will suffer the same fate as these men you see before you!❞ independent erik lehnsherr multi-ship, multi-verse, selective (org. june, 2014 / semi hiatus)

[elsa-the-viking-queen-deactivat]

[metalkinetica-blog]

{ you are not alone in this }

[metalkinetica-blog]

groovyxgenes:

Charles squeezes his eyes shut, holding Erik to his neck and gripping to him and this reality that he’s created. Erik’s words sting, they bring up memories that cause him to taste bile in his mouth and his gut to twist painfully. But it’s true, he knows, and he nods his head. Indeed, he knows all too well what addiction can do, what it has done to him. Easy to slip into, but so hard to crawl yourself out. If he were to stay here with Erik, there would be no guarantee that he’d ever truly leave. The idea of being able to stay here with Erik - happy, able, in love - would be far too tempting.

So Charles swallows back the sour taste and forces himself to nod. “Yes,” he croaks out the agreement and allows Erik to pull away. He looks up at his once-lover, a soft, proud smile crossing his face as Erik concentrates and the world stops shaking and crumbling in on itself. Instead,it steadies, and rebuilds some parts. It’s not as beautiful as it had been when Erik was still unaware of the dream, but still there, working.

It’s duly representative of Erik himself, Charles thinks - broken in some places, yes, but strong, admirable, good. And so, here they are. Charles still standing in Erik’s arms, both of them fully aware of what is happening here within the dream, and what has happened in the real world - to each of them, to both of them. In the real world, he’s supposed to keep a respectable distance from Erik. He’s supposed to be cordial but not overbearing, and mindful of their past.

Here, however, Charles doesn’t care about any of that. He doesn’t even care about it outside of the dream, honestly, it’s just that he’s expected to. He’d already broken the unspoken boundaries when Erik first showed up, pulling him into a reckless, awkward hug, kissing his shoulder and neck aimlessly. Even now, he’s lying in bed with the man, holding his hand. Looking back, he probably should have waited, but it’s always been in his nature to comfort physically.

Here, though, he has no intentions of leaving Erik’s arms. Not when he can actually stand with him, hold him, look into those beautiful eyes he’d missed so much. He smiles gently, taking in a breath. “Excellent job,” Charles murmurs in reference to the world steadying around them. His moves to gently trace the lines of Erik’s face, brushing over his cheek and back through his hair. “How are you feeling?”

Erik wishes it could be easier for the two of them; he wishes that he could simply accept that this is a new reality and he could be safe here. It isn't that easy, however, and it never will be; he would never be happy here with the knowledge that there is another world out there, a real world, one that he is being drawn to. Each bit of love, each bit of tenderness, would be like poison, and he doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to let himself fell prey to the idea that he could be happy here, even as he feels himself suffocating with his want.

So Charles swallows back the sour taste and forces himself to nod. “Yes,” he croaks out the agreement and allows Erik to pull away. He looks up at his once-lover, a soft, proud smile crossing his face as Erik concentrates and the world stops shaking and crumbling in on itself. Instead,it steadies, and rebuilds some parts. It’s not as beautiful as it had been when Erik was still unaware of the dream, but still there, working.

The world stablises and Erik breathes out, a sharp, hard noise that settles low in his gut. None of this is real and, yet, he clings to Charles, reaches to try and draw him closer, to try and let himself tuck into the warmth of his body, even as his mind screams he shouldn't. He can't, he refuses, and he feels himself go tense.

Charles is real even if the dream isn't; he feels real and solid and Erik wondered if, once they've woken up, he'll be as tangled with the other man as he is now. It's been a long time since they've been this close, since he's been able to admit how desperately he had missed being able to tuck himself into Charles' arms and nuzzle into his side, his shoulder, and he feels the longing for it creep up and over him. It hurts, it aches, and he breathes out with a sharp and desperate noise. He needs Charles, he just doesn't have the words to admit it.

"... I don't know." Erik's voice is low, sharp, and he shakes his head - he wants to let himself break and fall into Charles even as he forces himself not to. He glances away instead, blinking back his emotions. "I am here. This isn't real, but... I think a part of me wishes it was."

[metalkinetica-blog]

   ——I’m    no  

                        H                             E                                  R                                       O

                ;;  but that doesn’t mean

I wasn’t   b r a v e.

[intoxicatingtouches]

Flowers grow back, even After they are stepped on. So will I.

resilience (via cumber—butt)

[metalkinetica-blog]

would you and groovygenes possibly be willing to do a three person thread with an oc?

i don't see why not! as long as we talked about it and we both were okay with it then sure. c:

[thequickestsilvr-blog]

All Fall Down (depowerd AU)

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thequickestsilvr:

"You didn’t come to Pietro before because you were in prison,” Marya says sharply. She leans forward to meet Erik and her eyes are blazing, twin fires of a deep and righteous judgment. Though the lines of her face have hardly twisted into anything dramatic, there is a savage severity in the subtleness of her rage. “Though we agree at least in part on one thing. You weren’t a fit father then. Hell, you aren’t a fit father now, but at least you’re marginally less dangerous since they clipped your goddamn wings.”

Something passes over her, a thinning of the lips as if she regrets saying that, but Marya has never been much of an apologetic woman. Being an immigrant tore that out of her and what little sympathy might have remained has been solely reserved for her children - a distinction which Pietro is very much included in the awarding of.

The food arrives but Marya doesn’t shift, not even the slightest. Apparently the tension is a mean and visceral thing because the waitress leaves as quickly as she can, unnerved into a skittish sort of retreat i n her haste to let whatever this private business is play out. When she’s gone, Marya glances toward the bathrooms expectantly, some sort of maternal instinct alerting her to the passing of time so that she knows exactly that it’s Pietro coming out. She flashes the boy a soft look of reminder and he rolls his eyes, put-upon, but slows his steps so as not to attract attention. It gives her the time she needs to finish speaking to Erik.

"We don’t talk about Wanda because he spent the better part of a year waking up screaming from night terrors after she went away. You’ll never fully appreciate how painful that was for him because it wasn’t you who rocked him through it, who held him as he cried until he retched and tried to convince him that he wasn’t broken, that his sister wasn’t bad or somehow less just because she was sick. That was me, Lehnsherr, and don’t for one moment think that I won’t hesitate to alert the authorities to your connection to Pietro if that’s what it takes to protect him from you. They’d be very interested to learn that you have a son," and even though all their efforts at keeping the children protected by hiding their parentage would be wasted, Marya thinks it would be worth it if it meant her boy had a chance at growing up whole and healthy. She glances back at said boy, who’s just now coming up on the table. With the last scrap of privacy they have, Marya adds, "I don’t give a monkey’s blue balls what you will or will not allow. Any right to issue decrees regarding the children were lost to you when you decided that being Magneto was more important than being Papa."

"I washed ‘em twice!” Pietro chooses this moment to bulldoze back into the booth, crowing proudly as he clambers into his seat. He gets up on his knees and grins at Erik, thrusts his small, still faintly damp hands in the man’s face. “The soap here smells like pineapples!”

"For a crime I did not commit," Erik reminds her, his face just as stern and firey as hers. She can say what she likes about him but he knows, even now, with the world loathing him as he walks, that he had not earned the years he had spent in his own personal plastic hell. "Do not think that you know me because you have heard what people say about me. Do not think that my powers being gone means I am any different. I have always wished to be a father - I simply knew that I would not be what he deserved."

He ignores her, mostly, shaking his head and letting his eyes flick around the room. The stab at the loss of his powers might have hurt, once, if he hadn't forced himself to turn to steel regarding it; instead he can do little more than purse his lips, turning to wait for his son - and, no matter what she said or wanted, Pietro was his - to come back.

"I know I was not prepared to be an able father. I am aware of what you think of me and my actions and there is one thing I can tell you; I do not care. I care not for your opinion, what you think of me and how you feel about my past. The only reason I give you any concern is because of the love you have shown him and because he loves you in turn. Were you anyone else then I would not have given you even a second of my time." And Erik doesn't care how cruel or dark he sounds saying it; it's true. He doesn't care a lick for this human woman beyond the fact that she had helped raise his son.

He snorts, shaking his head.

"You can tell the police he is my child, but it is him that would suffer, not me. You wouldn't do that to him anymore than I would." A laugh. "You claim to love him and then lay such threats at my feet. You should be ashamed of yourself." Because, when it comes down to it, it wasn't being Magneto that was more important; it was knowing he could not give them a life that a child deserved. He didn't care if Marya didn't understand, he didn't care if she was incapable of realising how much pain seeing his children gave him, because she meant nothing to him. He had to maintain that feeling otherwise he would lose himself to the agony that, even now, settled as a weight inside of him. She doesn't know a single thing about him or his life and he doesn't care - that's how it's supposed to be.

When Pietro comes back, Erik does little more than smile.

"So I see." He lifts his hands, expression softening as he wraps one around Pietro's wrists, drawing them close so he can smell. "Perhaps we ought to relearn how to dry fingers, too?" He grins. "Otherwise Papa is going to have a very damp face all the time."

[lavellansolas]

erik lehnsherr + frankenstein’s monster

[metalkinetica-blog]

groovyxgenes:

Charles sighs, closing his eyes as Erik kisses his forehead and touches his hair, leaning into the caress slightly. He knows he got a bit too worked up earlier, but he always tends to be a tad over emotional when it comes to Erik, and he’s always fiercely defensive of those he loves. “…Good,” Charles finally says, softly. “Not that I mind giving you an occasional reminder.” He smirks and gently pulls Erik down to meet his lips in a chaste kiss. “…or two,” he murmurs with a chuckle, kissing his love again.

His lips turn into a smile even as he leans into Charles' touch, stroking fingers over him and drawing him all the closer. He knows how terribly difficult he makes life for Charles and he is more than aware that he hardly goes out of his way to make things any simpler; instead, he makes it worse, cumulating in moments like this. All Erik can do is be glad that he is able to return to Charles' arms at the end of each day. "I am sure you enjoy the reminders," he whispers, voice low. "And the... Pleasure they might bring."

[metalkinetica-blog]

whispers i'm back

[seabois]

I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.

Marya Hornbacher (via asperitasrex)

[oh-teen-posts]

[likeasummer]

[sasheenka]

[notasgardian-deactivated2014080]

                                how could you [ want ]

                                           to be with

                                     { s o m e b o d y }

                            like                                   [ me ]

[metalkinetica-blog]

Send me a ♥ to find out how my muse feels towards yours. ((ily))

erik is often really confused about his feelings towards danielle. a lot of the time he’s shocked at how much faith he has in her and how much he trusts her, which is a difficult thing for him to admit considering his position. no matter what the verse, though, he does trust her and he does regard her as a good ally, if not a friend, and he struggles with keeping her distant even as he relies on her a little bit. it’s a delicate balance in his mind and he’s learning to deal with it very slowly which is why sometimes he can be quite tactless and cruel towards her — because he’s a giant idiot that doesn’t know how to handle his feelings.

[metalkinetica-blog]

A paper airplane appears from seemingly thin air and bumps harmlessly against the back of Erik's head. Should it be unfolded, one would find a crudely drawn picture of him in a blocky-looking helmet and glorious billowing cape, lovingly labeled "TO: MAGNET MAN, <3 WES".

"— Honestly. I do not have time for this, Wesley.”

[metalkinetica-blog]

where's the weirdest place you and charles have ever fucked?

"There may have been an incident with a classroom. An occupied one. With telepathy involved. But who knows?"