Ten of Cups Fic:
Title: Loss
Author: willowaus
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse, really only using the first movie
Pairings/Characters: Magneto
Rating: PG
Tarot: Ten of Cups
Note: I hate titles. *growls*
He is screaming, hands outstretched, desperately reaching for his mother. There is nothing else that matters except reaching her. He doesn’t notice the hands grabbing him, trying to force him backwards or the throngs of people walking towards the building with the large smoke stack. All he notices is his mother, pulled along by his father, disappearing before his eyes.
The gate twists in front of him, the metal distorting, becoming a visual interpretation of his pain. The hands around his waist tighten their grip, forcing him backwards before he slides forward, dragging those holding him. He screams for her, his voice becoming hoarse as he struggles.
Pain rushes through him as the butt of a gun slams into his forehead. The pull he felt dragging him towards his mother disappears and he falls back, blinking as he tries to focus, rain falling into his eyes. He shuts them, the world going dark before it twists into a violent array of color.
He sees his mother hanging the clothes on the line, creating a rainbow of fabric in their backyard. She smiles at him, her eyes tired but her happiness at seeing him shining through.
The next time he truly sees her, her body is being pushed into one of the ovens and he closes the metal door, promising himself that those who did this will pay. He smiles when, years later, he is finally able to enact his revenge, turning the gun on one of the guards, his death much faster than his mother’s had been.
He promises to find the others and that their fates will be much worse. It is all that keeps him going.
Author: willowaus
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse, really only using the first movie
Pairings/Characters: Magneto
Rating: PG
Tarot: Ten of Cups
Note: I hate titles. *growls*
He is screaming, hands outstretched, desperately reaching for his mother. There is nothing else that matters except reaching her. He doesn’t notice the hands grabbing him, trying to force him backwards or the throngs of people walking towards the building with the large smoke stack. All he notices is his mother, pulled along by his father, disappearing before his eyes.
The gate twists in front of him, the metal distorting, becoming a visual interpretation of his pain. The hands around his waist tighten their grip, forcing him backwards before he slides forward, dragging those holding him. He screams for her, his voice becoming hoarse as he struggles.
Pain rushes through him as the butt of a gun slams into his forehead. The pull he felt dragging him towards his mother disappears and he falls back, blinking as he tries to focus, rain falling into his eyes. He shuts them, the world going dark before it twists into a violent array of color.
He sees his mother hanging the clothes on the line, creating a rainbow of fabric in their backyard. She smiles at him, her eyes tired but her happiness at seeing him shining through.
The next time he truly sees her, her body is being pushed into one of the ovens and he closes the metal door, promising himself that those who did this will pay. He smiles when, years later, he is finally able to enact his revenge, turning the gun on one of the guards, his death much faster than his mother’s had been.
He promises to find the others and that their fates will be much worse. It is all that keeps him going.