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comes spring

Mostly fanfiction, motorcycles, engine porn, motorbike racing, and technobabble. With photos of Kyoto on the side. And a complete lack of consistency strewn throughout.

Posts tagged fanfiction

Jun 26 '14

The Rumors of His Invalidity

(I wrote this nine months ago during the height of the first Will Erwin Die? scare (when I was really interested in the gear). Obviously I will never get any further with it, so have some post chapter 49 Erwin and 3DM gear.)

The Rumors of His Invalidity…

There is no single worst part to losing the arm, Erwin muses, as he waits for Hans to work the pulley. In terms of pain, it wasn’t the titan’s teeth, nor his own sword when he freed himself, nor even the tourniquet. No, in terms of pain it was the procedure once they got him back to the Walls. The cleaver and bone saw to close the wound properly so what was left of his femur didn’t protrude from healing flesh. Thankfully he only remembers bits and pieces as he went in and mostly out of consciousness.

Pain is the least of it, though, which is why he, Levi, and Hans are out on the training grounds in the middle of the night.

“Do it already,” Levi huffs, but Erwin reads apprehension in his stiff-legged stance. “I hate suspense.”

“I’m trying,” Hans laughs, pushing at the lever, “but even one arm lighter, he’s still heavy.”

“You’re pathetic, Glasses.” Levi walks through the darkness while Erwin stands, waiting, for them to lift him.

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Jun 21 '14

for fealle: (strip club) as canon (burlesque) as I can and exceeding the three paragraph rule as ever.

Mike hasn’t seen Erwin get this drunk since their trainee days, back when they had to scrape and cheat at cards to get their way into the money to get into the establishment Hans dragged them to tonight. Of course, Erwin always denied cheating at cards, called it strategy, but that’s all the vine blurring Mike’s head. The point. The point is: Erwin is inebriated and Hans and Mike aren’t sure how much of it is vine and how much of it is the rising star of the Recon Corps.

"What a waste," Hans snorts far too loudly and humidly into Mike’s ear. She either ignores or doesn’t notice his sneer or the reflexive jerk to shield his ear with his shoulder. She reeks of sweat and something stronger than vine. "They didn’t even notice when the last girl lit the tassels on her pasties. That was a religious experience, Mike!"

Mike agrees with her assessment but pushes Hans back down on the padded bench and glances again at Erwin and Levi. Erwin is leaning back against Mike like he hasn’t in years; his civilian clothes sharp and slightly musty with disuse. Erwin’s body language is open, solid thighs wide apart and leaning forward into that space is their dumpster find; Levi.

Levi’s hand is on the bench, on the inside line of Erwin’s knee. His sleeve’s cuff is rucked up, caught against the dark material of Erwin’s trousers. He hasn’t smiled all night, has barely glanced at the girls teasingly removing their clothes and shaking their ample hips and breasts, and no matter where his gaze roams, his gimlet eyes always come right back to Erwin.

"Are they fucking?" Hans’ voice is lower this time, but Mike can still smell her breath and feel it on his ear.

"I think its just the vine," Mike murmurs back. "But Erwin usually likes watching the girls. So, yeah, don’t know."

Hans turns her bespectacled face back to the stage and a lithe woman doing a fan dance, running the fans’ fluffy feathers suggestively over her breasts. “If they aren’t now, bet they are after tonight.”

Mike looks at Erwin’s face; the usual lines of responsibility carved into his brow aren’t even half as heavy as usual. If Levi can lighten that load, Mike is more than willing to buy all the lambskin and oil needed to ease their way. “Let’s hope so,” Mike breathes, but far too quietly for anyone to hear over the crowd or the musicians.

Jun 20 '14

whatisthisreally asked:

=x can i request one more? if not, feel free to ignore this XD if so, Cherik: Ben Stone. :) YOU ROCK EU!

unplanned/unexpected pregnancy. [um, have more of the Aliens AU I won’t ‘officially’ write? Over three paragraphs yet again. Typical.]

“Fuck,” Logan winces harder this time, hand pressing against his sternum after another bout of coughing. He coughs again and Charles’ eyes widen at the bits of red that flecked his lips. “Fuck, Chuck, get Erik in here! There’s something really wrong and I don’t want you to catch it.”

“Ship open a line to Erik.” Pulling himself up using his wheelchair, Charles continues the moment the line is established. “Erik, please come down to the fitness bay immediately; Logan seems to be infected with something that’s lacerating his internal organs faster than he can heal them.”

Logan chokes around a roar of agony, spittle and blood fly from his mouth in a froth. Charles wants to comfort the grizzled soldier, but if Logan’s fighting off a disease more virulent than he can heal against, Charles wouldn’t stand a chance. Instead he hauls himself into the wheelchair, unlocks the brakes, and pushes away. He can only watch as Logan thrashes, as he rips his tshirt apart, as his chest begins to heave and distend as if being rammed from within.

And then red sprays from Logan’s mouth in a gurgling scream and his chest looks as if it is exploding from a shot through his back. He falls backward onto the floor still snarling and twitching, but from Logan’s chest is movement and hissing.

Jun 20 '14

purpleconfetti asked:

Hannah Montana, Charles/Erik

one of them is a rock star. [An AU of my tattoo fic AU? Again, couldn’t keep the three-paragraph minimum.]

 Erik turned his tattoo machine off and lowered it so there were no possible distraction. He looked Raven’s rock star brother straight in the eyes the way he would look at any other client that annoyed him. “I am going to use a needle to perforate your skin. I am going to push ink under your skin. There will be blood, your blood, coming out of your body. Of course it’s going to hurt.” 

The smile on Charles’ face made it that he was only pushing Erik’s buttons. Hadn’t he told Raven to tell his clients not to piss him off? “But how much does it hurt, Erik? Like a cat scratch? Or being hit by a rubber band at pointblank range?” 

Gritting his teeth against annoyance, Erik turned the machine back on and began to lower the needle. “It hurts like a fucking needle puncturing your skin. I don’t care how famous or related to Raven you are; shut up so I can work.” 

Charles’ smile didn’t diminish, though he swore when Erik made the first pass with the needle.

Jun 20 '14

picturemerunning asked:

Lucy Whitmore: Cherik!

one of them doesn’t remember the other. [XMDoFP compliant, this time.]

Erik’s eyes are blank as a sleepwalker, by contrast Charles’ eyes are glassy and red with overflowing tears. The red makes his light blue eyes all the more bright and stark in his splotched face. Erik’s hand comes up to touch Charles face and to smear the tears across his cheekbone and into his long hair. Erik says nothing. Erik doesn’t remember how to talk now. Erik doesn’t know anything, not even Charles’ name.

“I’m so sorry, Erik,” Charles whispers, “so very sorry. But you gave me no choice and I love you far too much.”

Charles knows Erik doesn’t understand the noises that he’s making, but he’s not really speaking to comfort Erik so much as himself. The Sentinels have fallen, the stadium is unmoving, and the world is very likely safe from Trask and Magneto, but Charles doesn’t feel as if he’s won the day.

Jun 20 '14

tehslowone asked:

Cherik- Eddard Stark!!!!!

Knights and castles, lords/ladies and bannermen 

[couldn’t keep it at three paragraphs…]

Though the arrow pierced the swan and it subsequently fell into the overgrown courtyard’s elaborate fountain, a flurry of commotion issued up from the waters. The water frothed with wing and human limb until Regent Lehnsherr finally drew himself up with one hand at the marble lip that circumscribed the fountain’s perimeter.

Long hair, dripping about his face and down onto his bare skin, he stood from the depths, Charles’ wicked arrow protruding, right of center, from directly under the clavicle. Blood washed pink, but grew stronger and darker as it leaked from the flesh. The Regent’s left arm was distorted; still half wing and across the bridge of his nose the dark mark of his swan bill was still visible.

Though his sister’s keeper was a beautiful, if cursed, creature, Charles nocked his third arrow, pulled back the string, and raised his bow. “I will ask you one last time, Lehnsherr. Where is Princess Raven?”

"My answer remains the same," Lehnsherr replied. He was still dark and imposing despite his naked, bedraggled, and bleeding state. "That is no business of bandits."

Jun 19 '14

whatisthisreally asked:

Cherik: Gaylord Focker XD

(meet the parents prompt)

Erik knows that Charles doesn’t like coming here, but Charles’ sense of duty on days such as Father’s or Mother’s day are stronger than his uncomfortable feelings. So, even though Erik loathes at least one of the people involved, he accompanies Charles again, one rainy Mother’s Day.

The cemetery is largely deserted, but even if it wasn’t Erik would hold the black umbrella aloft with the barest consideration of his power. Because he needs his hands to be free in case Charles succumbs to the tears that occasionally tremble on his lashes, just like the rain on the edge of the umbrella’s canvas.

As Charles sets down the bouquet of roses, Erik trails fingertips firmly along Charles’ shoulder. Though Sharon Xavier remarried after Brian Xavier’s death, Charles chose to set their remains side by side in the elaborate marble graves Brian’s family had paid for. Only Erik knows that, deep in their stone crypts, within the glossy caskets, their wedding rings do not match.

Jun 19 '14

ang3lsh1 asked:

Scooby Doo, Charles/Erik

I’m regretting this already.

Solving mysteries together:

Erik took the binoculars down from his face and handed them over to Charles. “I don’t feel anything unusual in the area that could cause that. I’m going to walk up the hill and get a closer look.”

By all reports, the centuries-old Hornet-Joplin Spook Light was totally harmless, so Charles had no reservations about Erik walking down the dirt road in the middle of the night. Not even though they had been watching the strange fireball move up and down the hill for the last hour. 

"Hold on," Charles said and lowered the binoculars onto the hood of their rental car. He withdrew a small bag from his pocket and pressed it into Erik’s hand. Erik didn’t have to open it to know it was a camera, but before he could ask, Charles explained. "Nobody will believe us otherwise."

Jun 9 '14

Angel of Cities: The Fatal Order

euphorbic:

I thought I abandoned this, but then I had a writer’s block for tattoo fic and found I had some gratuitous imagery in me instead. At this rate I’ll write the ending before all the middle bits.

(Takes place on the heels of "Namest Thou Thy Fucking Terms".)

(AoC Masterlist)

image

Honey, Emma says, when you get him in here, seal the two of us away. You’ll need to protect yourself from what’s going to happen in here.

I know, Charles says and quickly kisses her cold, transparent cheek. I know. He steels himself not to think anymore on the paradox of Emma’s existence. To do so will be to fail.

Outside his mind Charles starts to sit up and Ronové kneels up to allow him a seated position between wide-spread knees. Charles reaches up to smear away the blood from his cheek and only succeeds in transferring the arcane letters onto the back of his hand. “I need to enter your mind to give her to you. Or, I can bring you into mine, but first you must help Erik.”

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Reblarghing for the night people.

Those new to this somewhat bizarre series should know that it is my version of self-indulgence (tons of gratuitous imagery). Charles is a researcher (and telepath) and Erik is his Angel in a post-dystopic world where there are no countries, but there are sentient city-states.

Most of it is written out of order which, though I hadn’t intended it, works nicely with the plot.

Jun 8 '14

Angel of Cities: The Fatal Order

I thought I abandoned this, but then I had a writer’s block for tattoo fic and found I had some gratuitous imagery in me instead. At this rate I’ll write the ending before all the middle bits.

(Takes place on the heels of "Namest Thou Thy Fucking Terms".)

(AoC Masterlist)

Honey, Emma says, when you get him in here, seal the two of us away. You’ll need to protect yourself from what’s going to happen in here.

I know, Charles says and quickly kisses her cold, transparent cheek. I know. He steels himself not to think anymore on the paradox of Emma’s existence. To do so will be to fail.

Outside his mind Charles starts to sit up and Ronové kneels up to allow him a seated position between wide-spread knees. Charles reaches up to smear away the blood from his cheek and only succeeds in transferring the arcane letters onto the back of his hand. “I need to enter your mind to give her to you. Or, I can bring you into mine, but first you must help Erik.”

Read More