magneticsilverfox

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gwynethpaltrow: Before the clock strikes, one last happy birthday to a true great, Robert Downey Jr. Friend, brother, inspiration. ♥☆

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New ‘AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON’ Spot Teases End Of The World!

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LOOK AT VISION!

Avengers : Age Of Ultron Edit Promo Arts

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I don’t want your future. 

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Erik Lehnsherr + full magnetokinetic powers

{ insp }

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X-Men + Greek Deities

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FassAvoy  Mcbender, how ever you say it, it's still beautiful.

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Fabulous Fassy with McAvoy in a few pics

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Dallas, November 1963 (MCU Magneto vs Bucky)

November 1963 The American South was so predictable. As many times as Erik had traveled all around the world, the South was still the South. He’d arrived at the airport in Dallas on a commercial flight from DC the morning of November 20. He was straight up booked into the flight as Erik Lehnsherr. He was surprised that Kennedy and Stark would allow such a thing, but they in fact did. Erik assumed that it was because they needed someone to blame should something go wrong. Nothing was going to go wrong. He was rather fond of fedoras. His current fedora sat on his dark locks at a skewed angle. He had his sunglasses laced into the collar of his shirt as he passed through the gate. He flashed his handsome grin to the female at the gate as he walked into the concourse. Erik was being followed. He could tell. When one had been in the business as long as he had, there were certain tell tale signs of being followed. With being a magnetically powered mutant, he had certain advantages that others simply did not have. Erik was right. There were three men following him. One man had reddish hair that curled all over. The other was a blonde man with crisp blue eyes. The final man was bald with massive biceps. They were an advance HYDRA scout team. Little did anyone know at the time, but the deeply embedded Emile Zola was the one that ordered this scouting team of Erik Lehnsherr. The mutant who had been sent to keep things in order by the Attorney General and SHIELD’s director tried his best to keep a low profile. He picked up his lone bag from the luggage carousel still watching his surroundings closely. Azure hues visually scanned the room. He noticed the positions of the three men before pulling his fedora down over his eyes. Leaning back to a standing position, he tossed the bag over his shoulder. Erik continued to casually stroll toward the front door of the airport. He acted as though he had no idea he’d been followed although he knew he was. The men all nodded to one another as the continued to pursue the magnetic mutant. They’d been instructed to use weapons made of plastic so they could not be detected by him. The continued the pursuit as their target headed for the door. Lehnsherr was adept at moving through the crowd. The men of HYDRA had lost him a couple of times only to pick him back up again through a visual scan of the room. They dodged through the sea of humanity in order to follow him finally making it outside. Lehnsherr was heading toward a parking lot. It was a remote area of the parking lot where they finally closed in on their prey. “Greetings Mr. Lehnsherr. Welcome to Dallas…” The man that spoke was the blonde. Erik quirked a brow upward from under his fedora. “You don’t sound like you’re a native of the area…” He was still playing coy. The bald man came up behind Erik and stuff a plastic gun in his ribs. “You will come with us. We insist.” A slow sarcastic laugh came from deep within the throat of the Master of Magnetism. “Plastic guns? Really. Your Intel was good, but I’m better.” He shot a quick elbow backward into the chest of the man who had pulled the gun on him. A quick thrust upward with his wrist caused knuckles to crack into the man’s nose making a sickening crunching sound as his bones shattered. Blood from his nasal cavity was everywhere. Erik twisted his hand in the air. He controlled the iron that flowed through the man’s body and began to rip it from his body slowly and painfully. Erik waved a hand and a wall of the parking meters from the parking lot all came crashing together. The resulting barricade surrounded the blonde man in a straight jacket of sorts throwing him to the ground. The metal meters were crushing the man’s rib cage slowly and painfully. He was still alive for now. The ginger started to throw a ceramic knife at Erik. He shoved his hand at the man with an magnetic push that sent him flying through a cluster of parked cars. Erik gave another twist of his hand causing the cars to move together crushing the ginger as though he’d been caught in a car crusher machine. Erik went back to the man wrapped in a jacket of parking meters. He waved his hand pulling the man to his feet. “Tell me now, who sent you.” His hand waved bringing the metal closer on the man’s body. The man cried out in utter agony. “ARGH! Y-You mutant SCUM! NEIN!” His upper torso was red and crimson rivers of blood was starting to come from his nose and ears. When Erik heard the German, his eyes widened. Anger raced through the very core of his soul. It always did when Nazis were involved. He twisted his arm again tightening the metal. “TELL ME.. NOW!” He started laughing at Erik. “Nein. Little… Erik Lehnsherr. I will..not.” He was spewing blood at this point. “Beware…Winter..is..coming… HAIL HYDRA!” He bit down on his tooth cracking the capsule that released the cyanide. Erik waved a hand and tossed the man down to the concrete so hard, his bones shattered. That was all he needed to hear. With a wave of his hand, he took to the air using his control over the magnetic field of the earth. He had much to do. The President would be in Dallas, soon.

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“I’m too sexy for this shit.“ Fassbender, Michael

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I've gotten correct answers for Magneto, Sir Ian and Fassy.  TOO fun.

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Destiny's Child (Magneto fic from Auschwitz)

Author's note: I don't particularly CARE if this is comically accurate for Magneto.  I don't CARE if it's accurate for the movies either.  This is a part of MY Magneto.  Criticize me for things other than cannon with this piece. Due to violent content, reader discretion IS advised. Thank you.  -M (Erik's writer) 1945 January The steely hand of winter’s grip reached his very being.  A violent chill shook the small frame of the boy as he pulled tattered clothing over his bones.  The boy was frail and thin after two long years in the camp.  He was   One had to do what he could to survive, even while staring death in the face.  What he had to do wasn’t pretty.   Max Eisenhardt hated himself for what he did.   He hated life as he knew it.  He wanted to die. For days now, their tormentors had been scurrying about doing this and doing that.   The numbers of the dead and dying were rising.  The major Crematorium was a pile of smoldering ash.  Little Max could see the plumes of smoke still rising from that side of the camp where the Nazis had burned the evidence.    Rumors ran rampant.  Lights of hope dared to sneak into the dark recesses of the souls of the damned.  The Allies were coming.   Max pulled his coat over his frame and walked into the courtyard.  From what he’d been able to glean, it was the Soviets.  The Germans were all doing their best to flee as soon as they could.  Just the night before, he’d watched from his window as a line of rats left the sinking ship.   The internees were left to die.  Another swirl of winter’s hand clawed at the boy who was physically 14 years old but looked maybe 12 years old because of malnutrition and poor sanitation.  The monsters were leaving them behind.  Perhaps the Russian Wolves would kill the people of Auschwitz.  Nothing had been that merciful to them.   God…in all His Infinite Wisdom…abandoned them there in hell. There were very few in the courtyard on this day.  Most stayed within the paper thin walls seeking cover from the bitter wind.  Some where just simply too weak to be moved from their bunks.  Death didn’t always come in the showers or the crematoria.  Death was sometimes a silent savior in the dark of the night. Max rounded the corner of the building.  Off in the distance he heard a roaring sound.  He held out his hand.  Flexing his fingers, he could still feel it.  He could feel the pull of metal in the area.  The barbed wire had more often than not been a constant drain on his senses while being here.  Slowly however, he was able to discern between the barbed wire and other forms of metal.  He could feel what the weapons of the guards were like.  He could tell all the bullets and how many were in the chambers now.   Time would be on his side, or so he’d hoped. He’d practiced slight feats of magnetic power without being noticed.   He had a corner where he’d crept to, that was out the way and unnoticed by most.  It was here that he could feel a larger source of metal coming.  It was unlike anything he’d ever sensed before.  His eyes widened.  It meant only one thing.  The Russians were coming. Max had thinking to do.  Seeing yet another Nazi attempt to flee, he closed his eyes.  Reaching out with his hand, he mustered all his physical strength that he could muster.  The boy felt beads of sweat fall down his forehead.  The outer edge of his vision was fading.  He was concentrating on the barbed wire with all he could muster.   The wire itself detached and wrapped around the Nazi’s ankles and began to entangle itself around his body.  Max could hear the screams of the man as his flesh was being ripped from the bone.  Max lowered his gaze as his head started to swim.  He was doing all he could to try and use his power to the full extent.  It has been so long… The thrashing man’s cries would burn themselves onto the boy’s memory.  He forced himself to look as the blonde superman was being turned into a bloody pulp all because of what he could do.  A coppery smell filled the air.  Muscles, sinew and flesh fell in ribbons.  Crimson coated the snow. Tears burned swaths of dirt and fear down the face of the boy.  What had he done?   He pulled his hand back and looked at it.  He canted his head slightly to the right.  What was this power that he possessed?  Why was he different?  Why couldn’t he have done more…?  Why did the man have to die? Darkness overcame the boy.  He’d expanded his full resources as the Nazi had been brutally murdered.  He crumpled like a rag doll falling into the snow.  Max Eisenhardt, prisoner of the Nazis, fell unconscious to the cold ground of  Poland on January 27, 1945. Soviet tanks  moved in to rescue the camp survivors.  The frightened huddled together when strength could be able to provide them that luxury.  Others felt their last bits of strength leave their bodies.  God stood waiting for them when the saviors came to the doors of Hell.   Closing their eyes in Hell, they woke up again in Abraham’s bosom, surviving on this plane just long enough to hear their salvation arrive. A Soviet Soldier with broad arms saw the boy laying in the snow.  He slid his arms under the boy’s arms and neck lifting him gently from the cold frozen ground.  He spoke to the boy in Hebrew.  “((Do not leave those yet Little One.  You are yet needed in this world.))”  The man was taller and stronger than the other men in the area. Max managed to open his eyes faintly at the sound of the voice and the support of this mysterious stranger.  “((Who are you?))”  He muttered. He continued to walk away with the boy in his arms.  “((Let us leave behind Max Eisenhardt and stand forward in a new and powerful way.))” Max let his head rest against the man’s chest.  From this angle, he could have sworn the man looked like his uncle Erik.  Uncle Erik was dead.  Max had seen him die in Warsaw.  He stopped trying to figure it out and closed his eyes. Soviet forces continued to move in and tend to the damaged and dying people left behind by the Nazis.  Freedom came to the children of Israel that day. It was a day that none would ever forget, not even for another 70 years.

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GQ - Michael Fassbender

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