Micheal Fassbender - Tumblr Posts
OH GOD!!! :Q




McAvoy, Fassbender & Jackman dance to ‘Blurred Lines’ (x)


STOP SOMEONE POINTED OUT THAT CHARLES' HEAD IS AS BIG AS ERIKS WAIST?!?!?







Some matching pfp I spent way too much time on:
yall i know i got to finish as if destiny but would you be willing to read a Charles Xavier x leshner!(erik/magnetos sister) reader?
(Possibly a bit of alex summers too bc i love my white boys) It would be set during first class.(hopefully if yall like it continue to days future past). I've been wanting to write it for so long but thought the x men Fandom was dead but with deapool and wolverine and x men 97, i feel its getting picked up again. So please PLEASE let a girl know😔🙏
ALSO if you wish (and I would love to oblige) wade and Logan can totally be tied in :)
The Tragedy of What Was (pt. 1)



Summary: The world was not kind. Not to you, your brother Erik, or many other mutants. So why did you have to be kind to Sebastian Shaw? A decades long mission, spearheaded by Erik was interrupted by the encounter with one Charles Xavier. You had always flirted with the idea of a changed world, not in Erik's image, but one of human - mutant peace. The battle of philosophy and morals is the only one more stifling than the one between the two battling groups. Who will come on top, be left behind, and survive? (yall i am not good at summaries pls just gimme a chance)!
A/N: uhm yeah. so this is my brainchild, enjoy:) also quick warning: VERY descriptive details about death and the Holocaust so please be prepared if you choose to read!
♟️masterlist♟️
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The footsteps were as soft as the traipsing water droplets from the fountain. An array of hues transformed into more and more mesmerizing shades in the sky above. Trees of the purest emerald coloring adorned the edges of the scene. And in the middle of the ethereal splendor stood Charles Xavier. The youthful, handsome, and charming man was wholly swallowed with transfixion.
Back turned to him and facing the serene flowing fountain, you found peace. Your hair was styled just how Charles remembered it when you first met him. Chaos somehow peacing itself into an enhancement of your beauty. His feet carried his unbelieving being right beside you. The place he swore to always remain.
Your eyes were closed but Charles always knew you never needed vision to feel his presence. Neither him for you. Never because of your mutations but rather the wonder of your hearts’ senses. Somehow, the butterflies in the pit of your stomachs always could sense out the others matching pair.
“This is cruel, Raven.”
He practically spit it out, voice still dumbfounded by your appearance. Your face has danced behind his eyes everyday of his life since your first encounter but in all that time, never has your image felt so real. Your eyes remained closed as a soft smile formed on your lips. The same one a mother would dawn as she gently corrected her child.
“Oh Charles, we both know Raven has been dead for years.”
As soon as you uttered those words, Charles felt the tingling sensation in his legs overgrow his nerves. His knees buckled and he was ready to feel the nothingness of his lower body once more except the feeling went away with the breeze. Whatever this was, Charles wished to escape as soon as possible.
“What are you?”
The smile framing your lips dropped in an instant. “You always said you saw me beyond a label. Beyond my powers.”
Your voice started out firm but was grappled with hurt as it cracked at the end. As powerful a telepath he was, Charles was well aware that his mind was being puppeteered. Yet the question of who was powerful enough to even enter the mind of Professor X stumped him.
“What is it that you wish? What information do you need so badly that vile deception is used?”
The mind was never a stable place as he well knew and that was Charles' explanation for your sudden chorus of bubbly giggles. Your smooth hands rubbed down your face as you attempted to stop your laughter. After a long winded session, you let out an amused breath that warned Charles that whatever was to be said next was not going to be pleasant.
“My schatz. You were always the mastermind of deception.”
He wanted to protest but his vocal cords failed him. Silence was his only choice as you began circling the mid-sized fountain.
“A man of your power, you could have built the world in your image by force. Yet, you made us all build it for you through your sweet words.”
Charles had a feeling of where this was going and that tingling began crawling up his veins. You continued on, nearing the opposite side of the water.
“Charles Xavier: judge, jury, but damn the world if he was seen as executioner. No, you are a mere guiding voice,”
The setting sun illuminated your dark figure behind the asserting height of the spouting water. He saw your features sparkle even in their shadowed form.
“A voice that dictated all. Who was Saint. Who was innocent. Who was worthy.”
With each word, your voice became more and more intense. A friction and malice he had nearly forgotten you were capable of. It was that last accusation that brought Charles down. Heart, head, and legs. He crumpled to the floor as numbness silenced any nerve communication. He tried to call out from pain. For you. But the strangle of his voice only righted around his neck as a weight began overtaking his lungs.
You finally rounded the circular fountain back to Charles as he laid on the floor, twisting this way and that and an arm outstretched to you. His finger framed your face from his lower point of view as they slightly curled. They danced across the very picture of perfection in Charles' eyes. But it was your own that caused the warning bells to screech to the man.
Clean,pristine eyes met his own electric blue orbs. The clarity of your sclera juxtaposed the haze of Charles' sense of reality. You crouched to meet his level and bent your neck to the side in confusion at his horror.
“Schatz, what's wrong? Aren't I pretty this way?”
You traced your fingernails lightly across his dashing face, upwards from the cheeks and into his luscious hair. He tried to jerk away but he was held in place by an invisible force, panting as a shiver of unease rippled through him.
“You know I always thought you the most beautiful.”
Your mouth dipped into a pondering frown as you mockingly assessed the man in front of you.
“Even with all my blood?”
Charles expected your eyes to transform to their original state, the ones he never got enough of. The captivating mosaic he memorized and treasured twice as hard for when you tried to hide them away in shame from him. Instead, he was met with the appearance of yours he has tried to erase so desperately but only ended up with a more obliterated consciousness.
Slow drops of blood slithered downwards from your mouth as if mocking Charles's now matching tears. Your smooth arms transformed into a canvas of cuts and bruises as they stretched unnaturally behind you. Finally, your once pristine clothing became an ocean of crimson copper blood. In every direction, a masterpiece of Charles's worst tragedy was painted through the rouge substance.
A puddle of blood formed beneath your misfigured being but not a single drop landed on Charles. Everytime a thin river of deep red snaked its way to his legs, a sprinkle of the crystal fountain water eliminated the warm liquid.
“Here I am Charles, in all my beauty, isn't that right?”
“Y/N-”
“Or am I not worthy of it anymore? A poor excuse of whatever lowly being I am hunted as?”
The brown haired man could only speak in wheezes at this point. He would use every last breath to stop your train of thought and conviction on his perspective of you.
“You were the most worthy of us all! Better than the best of us! You were the unimaginable.”
Your breath shallowed like his but Charles's was from force. Yours was from drainage. Even in your positioning, back arched, arms stretched behind you, and neck bent upwards, your eyes filtered to the shade of blue that quickly became your favorite.
“Was I so unimaginable that you refused my reality?”
There it was. As if a dam broke, all your blood began drowning Charles. The sick joke of it all was that the harsh force pounding down on his lungs freed him the second he began inhaling nothing but copper. Just to satisfy all possible suffering.
“It felt like this. Slow. Suffocating. I know you are trying to call out to me but your powers are failing you,”
You whispered in a contrastingly soothing manner. “They are failing you like they failed me. I called for you and made yourself deaf.”
And in went the blood into his ears. Charles could feel it flow its way through the complex tunnels and deafen the mumbles of your voice. In every possible part of his body, Charles was drowned in the inside and outside in your blood. The natural reaction to close one's eyes was stripped from him as his once vibrant blues were forced to be wide open to be covered in layers of the sticky substance.
Death was surely knocking on his door. That the differing voices from your own must have been what laid ahead for Charles. Odd that they, even with the disillusion of the blood, sounded oddly familiar.
You, realizing this, let out a sly smirk, even as you were thrashing in pain and letting out your last gasps of air.
“It seems like our time has ended once more, Professor.”
With one final breath, you smile upwards.
“Send him my love.”
The violent jerk of the Professor brought even further alarm to Storm and Logan who have been trying to bring him back for the past few minutes from whatever trance he entered. Storm checked his pulse and head for any fever while Logan stood to the side in confusion and buried worry for his long time mentor.
“Something going on, Charles?”
Logan's gruff voice was perfectly audible for the elder man who clenched to his wheelchair to the point his already pale knuckles were the shade of snow. However, Charles completely ignored him as his wrinkled eyes focused on the person right in front of him. Your murderer.
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1944
The screams were never ending. Of birth, death, and what surrounded all, pain. Maybe it was because of the tight packaging of the cattle cart that made it feel like the screams were louder than they were. They had no space to travel so they just ricocheted off the tens of bodies crushing the others in your end of the cattle transportation.
The echo off of the dirty and malnourished folks gave the screams an echoed chorus to the sound of birth. A fragile woman with pretty features was splayed across the dirty floor, legs covered with men's jackets and women's shawls. While the clothing covered her decency, nothing could be done for her dignity as she was surrounded by cattle manure. There was nowhere else in the cart that had the less than necessary space the manure covered section provided. From what you've gathered of the man holding her hand throughout, her name is Lotte and beside her was her brother, Heinrich. Lotte's husband has been missing for the past six months.
You have been trying to tell time through the crack between the two rusty sliding doors of the cart. It has been light thrice and dark twice. Everytime the curtain of darkness is overtaken by sunlight, the small glimpse of the outside world becomes increasingly muddled. Green trees became ashy corpses. Sapphire skies transforming into a sickeningly gray.
In your time on this unknown journey, you had rarely uttered a word. You were only six years of age yet you had known that your existence was a question of debated worth so asking any of your own would only bring misery. You never asked why all three of your cardigans had a yellow star of David patched on. All that was known to you is that it was required, as your mother fearfully related to you everytime you complained why you had to dawn it but none of the other girls you saw did. Although, none of them were in your school or neighborhood as that was yet another forced move.
You found the forced adornment quite ugly. Especially with all the stains it dawned from your constant use of it as a napkin. Your youthful innocence summarized that if you were to be forced to wear the symbol that was to deem your value, it might as well be useful to you.
Chipped nails of yours picked at the fray threads from the patch as you shuddered away from yet another round of the birthing woman's screams. You buried your face into the neck of your older brother, who only wrapped his arms tighter around your small frame. It was his turn to carry you on his lap, a shift that was interchanged between him, your praying mother, and solemn father.
“Push more, I see the head!”
There were a handful of other grime ridded women who were surrounding the pretty soon to be mother. None were nurses but their experience was enough: they were mothers. From your vantage point, you could see the pool of blood growing beneath the sheets of cover. It was making you nauseous but you couldn't tear your eyes away.
“Final one!” The eldest of the women announced and you prayed for her to be right. You were unsure how much more screaming you could take. To you, it was the worst sound to be stifled in. With one final welp of excursion, a new voice replaced the now official mother. A prune like being covered in blood was somehow the cleanest in the entire filth infested cart. The rest of you were flea littered as the rats crawled over all the clouds in the overpacked area.
You still held tightly onto your brother but turned to your now weeping mother. People cry tears of joy at a new baby, even if you've never personally seen it, but you didn't think you were seeing it then. In the past years, your mother's face was constantly strewn with tears, no matter how much you tried to cheer her up in your own childlike ways. So you knew how tears of misery looked like and they couldn't be stopped as the avalanches their way down her cheek.
“Mama?” Your small confused voice broke her out of her trance on the small baby and his first moment with his mother. She reached out and petted your hair gently with a loving yet shaky smile. However, the moment could only last so long.
In the moments after his sister had done the most tremendous feat of her life, Heinrich knew what had to be done. Lotte turned to him to ask him to utter the prayer to be said when the birth of a child but the prayer uttered was a very different one. Instead of the blessings of life, Heinrich uttered the words of death. Lotte's delicate eyes squinted in confusion and offense but were in an instant, horror. Heinrich ripped the wailing baby boy from his mother's comforting arms and grasped the handle of the large rusted door. He was peeling as much as he could with only one arm and fighting off the other men and women trying to stop him.
Your mother threw her arms around the two of her children seated besides her, as if the man would do the same to you. The door's crack was opening more and more, letting in the now setting sun. It was the first time in what you can only assume days any sunlight had reached the cart's populace and looking around, it was clear to see. The ghastly paleness and bones peaking out beneath raggdy clothes. This was not the effect of capture in a cattle cart but rather years of imprisonment in open air prisons you were forced to call home.
“Heinrich!”
Lotte wailed as she tried to get up, but the weakness of labor tied her down to the disgusting floor. You would have thought Heinrich to commit his act ashamed. To not have the ability to look Lotte, or anyone, in the eyes anymore. Maybe even throw himself with the boy. Yet instead, he met Lottes hazed eyes with no remorse.
“What life do you believe he will live? This death is a mercy. Let him go without suffering or in the hands of those monsters! What kind of mother wishes suffering only second to Hell on her child?!”
And with that, the baby boy was gone. The healthy baby boy. No defects or injuries. Now in the wind to die.
You were wrong. Silence was the worst sound to be stifled in.
Looking up, you met the horrified blue eyes of your brother.
“Erik?”
His only response was to fully huddle you in his arms as if he could protect you from the truth. Protect you from your inevitable fate.
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Surely, this was not Earth. Rain didn’t matter; your eyes could not comprehend the desolation weaving between the desolate crowds. They were not human. Not even ghosts could compare to the ghastliness of those who might very well have been your neighbors. Sunken eyes, protruding bones, and the heavy stench of fatality. Huddled between Erik and your mama, you were shoved forward into an impending fate. Your hands clung to Erik's pants as you tried to hide from the barking officers. The three of you—and your father, standing guard as much as he could behind—were shoved and pulled in every direction. There was never a moment of peace since stepping off the cart.
As you neared the macabre gate, you were ripped from safety. A crude giant of a man yanked you from your hiding spot, away from your family. The same fate seemed to befall Erik as the four of you were being ushered in three different directions.
“ERIK!”
Your voice pierced the grating metal, now beginning to be pulled toward the boy you called for. An odd force physically pierced the gate as well as the guard hauling you away. He dropped you from his lifted arms and began crouching, as if an invisible weight was crushing him to the puddled ground. You didn’t waste any time and ran toward where Erik was being dragged. The soldiers seemed to be pulled strangely forward toward the pointed gate as well. You focused on his outstretched arm, even as your vision blurred from tears and soon darkness. As you ran to your brother, other guards tried to grab you but struggled to reach you. Anyone who got close enough seemed to trudge through invisible layers, barely grazing you. However, one lanky boy, no older than 18, managed to tackle you to the ground, easing the odd pressure on the guards.
“Y/N!”
Erik had been solely focused on reaching Mama. It wasn’t until he saw your small body on the muddy ground, unconscious and being dragged away, that he realized you had been left completely alone to fight off the brutes. Metal fragments began chipping from the gate and helmets of the men holding him back. Although, whatever destruction was to happen was avoided as Erik was knocked unconscious, unaware of the Lehnsherr fate. A grim thought to anyone but the prowling man in his tower.
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Time was lost to you as you wandered through the nice halls of the building. You had woken up in a room that barely passed as one. Beds and bodies as far as you could see. All dull, enhancing the dread of it all. As soon as you regained consciousness, the intimidating beings that somehow passed as men wrenched you away from wherever you had been sent. Time must have passed, as the rain had stopped. A cruel contrast to the gloom awaiting inside the brick building. Guards led you to a menacingly simple, deep-brown door. One sharp knock and you were tossed into the abyss, which turned out to be a tidy office. Your eyes met a pair hidden behind lowered glasses. He gave you a smile that provided no comfort. To your left stood Erik. Without hesitation, you ran to the brother you feared you might never see again. You were still lost in the world around you but knew one thing: you were not letting go. Latched around his hips, you quizzically eyed the smiling man. He took in the image of you two, his grin only growing.
“Understand this, Erik and Y/N—these Nazis, I'm not like them.”
The fact that he knew your names sent a shiver of discomfort down your aching spine. You stayed silent as he began unwrapping what seemed to be, of all things, a chocolate bar.
“Genes are the key, yes! But their goals? Blue eyes? Blond hair? Pathetic.”
Your eyes tracked his movements, not out of envy but out of unease. A man in this place was bitter, not sweet.
“Mmm! Eat the chocolate. It’s good.”
Still nameless, he pushed the bar closer to both of you, especially trying to coax you. Naturally, you wished for just a bite—as any six-year-old would—but Erik’s silence was enough to stifle that desire. You still did not know what had happened to your beloved parents, which sent a strange prickling sensation through your entire body. A mismatched sense of internal chemical stability. The man watched as you shivered, even in the moderately warm room.
“I want to see my mama.”
Erik broke the silence in his rather blunt way. You knew he was scared. He had been ever since your family was forced to evacuate the home generations of your family had been born in for a squalid apartment, ever since the Nazis decided the value—or lack thereof—of your people's lives.
“Genes are the key that unlocks the door to a new age.” It shouldn't have been surprising that he was ignored. The man in the chair was important, and what really mattered was that he was a Nazi affiliate. If there were any guards or officials in the room, they would have expected you both to show gratitude for the chance to speak with such a superior being.
“A new future for mankind. Evolution. You know what I'm talking about?”
He continued but you could barely grasp the meaning of his words. You looked to Erik for any signal of how you should react but the only emotion painted on his pale face was apprehension. Your attention was drawn back to the mustached man as he laid down a coin. The loud and proud symbol of the Nazi regime gleaned beneath the light. A light that had emerged from the laboratory you just realized to your right. Two tables enclosed by white walls adorned with various knives, blades, and other instruments you could only gasp at their purpose.
“It’s a simple thing I ask of you. A little coin is nothing compared to a big gate,” he said, turning to you. “Or the human body?”
He analyzed you, as you were a wild card in his eyes. The nameless man couldn’t interpret what you had accomplished, but that only exhilarated him further. With a simple gesture, Erik was instructed to go first. Concentration painted his face, and desperation motivated his hand. Stillness hung in the air.
“I tried, Herr Doktor. I can't... I don't... it's impossible.”
The doctor turned to you, prepared to ask you to try, but instead, he simply contemplated you. Thoughts spewed in his questionable mind before he took a deep breath.
“The one thing I can say for the Nazis is that their methods seem to produce results.”
His hands reached for a bell and rang it so casually before returning back to his luxurious leather seat, adjusting himself too comfortably.
“I'm sorry.”
Suddenly, the door opened, and two guards entered. That prickling feeling returned more intensely this time, but it was alleviated by the sight of your mother's beautiful face.
“Mama!”
Both you and Erik sprinted into her comforting embrace. You tried all you could to forcefully connect yourself to her. Like a parasite; if she were to disconnect from you, survival was no longer in your future.
“My darlings! How are you?”
Before any words could be uttered, she was ripped away. You clawed at the guard stopping you to get back to your personal safe haven. Your mama always knew what was best so her soft whispers to listen were the only reason you settled down. She would softly scold you in that way of hers that you did not listen to her once you got out of here anyways. You did not wish for mama's displeasure.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to move the coin.”
The doctor made sure to emphasize the task to the both of you, not just Erik. You saw your brother readying himself for the argument of his inability when the light caught yet another imposition of metal. A caliber gun.
“You don’t move the coin, I pull the trigger. Understand?”
Prickling began feeling like it was burning inside of you. Your mouth dried as panic began setting in. You looked over your shoulder and could see that mama would not be of help this time: terror painted her graying skin as corpsely white.
“One.”
The countdown began, and you had no choice but to mimic Erik’s outstretched hands. How were you supposed to move it? You needed Mama's help.
“Mama!”
You were bawling as trepidation clawed its way through your throat. Even staring down the barrel of death, mama kept her voice steady for the light of her lives.
“You can do it.” Soft loving words of encouragement.
“Two.”
Time was moving too fast. Prickling to burn electricity. Yoru nerves were being set alight as you began screaming in fright. The coin wasn't moving. Why wasn't it moving? You look at Erik and he was nearly at the same level of breaking down as you but he needed to stay focused for the three of you.
“MAMA!”
Your arms were sore, twitching with the stinging sensation flowing up and down. All you wanted was to hug your mother and let her sing you to sleep, like she always did.
“Everything is alright, darling. All is well.”
No worry, just compassion. Just a mothers unbreaking love.
“Three.”
It moved.
The bullet moved.
It hit its target.
The stinging stopped.
Tears that slipped off your lashes halted their freefall. Stinging was no longer your problem as an unbearable pressure coursed through your veins. In and around, pain hurled its way through every crevice of your tiny, malnourished body. Your eyes focused on the coin as even the vomit you were going to hurl paused its journey upwards. Something was happening to you so distracting that you could not realize the destruction Erik was raging around you. The guards' metal helmets began piercing their skulls, drawing out their brains. The bell was caved in. All the medical instruments in the laboratory next door began trembling. Though, you did not need ears nor eyes for that. You could feel it. The pull of gravity towards Erik. Gravity that made its way to your eyes.
“Mama,” you whispered.
Sterling silver gleamed, the vision of the coin was coated in blood. Each of the miniscule blood vessels in your eyes began popping.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop
It wasn’t prickling. It wasn’t burning. It wasn’t electricity. It was stabbing. Each cell in your eyes was being stabbed until only numbness remained. When you opened your eyes again after the pain, you could feel the blood unsticking from itself. The substance coated your iris. Your world was blinded by red.
“Outstanding!”
The sick man that was the doctor, was not horrified but pleased. Proud.
“So we unlock your gift with anger, Erik.”
You could not see him well, but you felt his steps gaining on you.
“And you, darling, grief.”
With his hands on you and Erik’s shoulders, he laughed as he led you all toward the laboratory that would become your personal purgatory.
“You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”
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a/n: please let me know what you thought!! i love hearing people's thoughts (it means so much!) also comments often inspire me for future chapters (in like huge ways, so if you want to see something in the story let me know!)
Jeremike Notebook doodles ⭐️


Zombie bf core
