Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. Marvel does.

A/N: Writer's Block buster for the "post anything you write" challenge. Jump starting my brain. Word vomit ensues so that new chapters can piece themselves together in the wreckage of my brain.

Rating: M


The lights dimmed.

The music began to play.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, he was frozen, numb, unable to move though the traffic was coming straight towards him.

Lehnsherr. Lehnsherr. Orphan. Orphan? Yes, that was right. Orphan, but for such a very long time that it really should not fucking matter anymore. Orphan. Mother, dead. Shot in the head. Father, dead. Gassed in a chamber. Aunts, uncles, cousins, dead dead dead. War maimed and dirt for beds. But he was not dead.

Lehnsherr, something Magnus. Magnus? Magnet. Metal. He loved metal. Metal never betrayed him, metal never left him. Metal ... metal surrounded him, embraced him. Fucked his mind and fucked his body and he loved. every. minute. Metal would hurt him, but he allowed it. Cuts, beatings, burning and searing. Metal was his name.

Something Magnus Lehnsherr. Killer. Oh yes. Yesyesyes. The sight of life fleeing from the cold eyes of the men who had tried to chase the life from his eyes oh yes. The sounds of their screams, the fear on their faces. Killer. The scent of blood more welcome than any home-cooked meal. The sound of the final thud of a fresh corpse hitting the floor. Another board to add to his rebuilding bridge to Hell. He was a killer. The killer.


Erik Magnus Lehnsherr. Erik. Lover. Erik. The name that was moaned from the lips of the man, the only man, who he would ever submit to. Bright, knowing orbs of blue that stared down at him even as the body was thrusting up into him, slow, steady - movements of eternity. Metal fucked him, but this man loved him, rolling with him and becoming him and leading him harder and harder and oh God please! deeper and never slow but never fast. Where had that come from? Charles. Where had Charles come from?

Brief. Gone. Erik was dead, purposefully agonizingly sadly dead. But he was not dead. Lehnsherr, Erik Magnus. Magnus. Magneto. Leader killer broken lover submissive of metal. Magneto. The man with the plan to blow up human kind, make them scream make them bleed make them feel every ounce of pain and isolation and then let them live. Live as he had lived as his people had lived as his new people are living as they havefor so, so very long.

Erik was dead. Erik belonged to Charles. Magneto saw Charles, and knew. Charles belonged to Magneto. Not the same, but not different. They would never be separate. Magneto owned Charles, Magneto directed Charles, Magneto made Charles curse life in the shield of night and wish to die. Magneto. Not Erik.

Erik was dead.

Except for the times when he was not.

When Magneto's hand could not strike the telepath, that was Erik. When Magneto could not send a knife through Charles' chest, that was Erik. When Magneto's words lost their bite, lost their Hell, at the sight of shattering blue eyes, that was Erik. Erik, dead but alive in Magneto only for Charles. Only ever for Charles. Charles, who was still alive and strong when Magneto would rather see him broken and on the ground before him. Submitting to him, not the other way around. Bending to him.

But Erik was alive for Charles. And Magneto could not kill himself.

Lehnsherr, Erik Magnus. Magneto. Orphan. Metal. Killer. Lover. Because of him, Charles will never fall. Because of him, Magneto will never fall.

The lights go out.

The music crescendos.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, tall and proud and bitter and loving and protecting, Erik, alive and dead, stands in the street and waits for the traffic.


They're so tragic. Can anyone possibly imagine the tormnet that would go through Erik's mind if it was literally like this? That would go through Charles if it were literally like this?

X-Men: First Class comes out on DVD on September 9th.

Feel free to leave your thoughts. :) I've got more writing to do. ^^