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castielista · 4 years ago

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Dreams of Electric Sheep

AU-gust: A Cherik Futuristic AU + Coffee Shop AU + Private Detective AU

Note: Well, I couldn’t let AU-gust end without writing something for it, right? rIGHT? Prompt 31 was to combine two AUs but things got out of hand and I combined three. So as a result I got this absolute mess of a fic that I really hope you enjoy. <3

Summary: Detective Charles is investigating a case where the murderers are two androids, and if there's something Charles hates, that's androids. However, with the EL7 working at his favourite coffee shop, things are a bit different.

Words: 1925

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The EL7 was graceful and efficient like no other.

The amount of coffee that his human coworker could prepare in thirty minutes, he did in ten. The kind of queue that could drive anyone mad, never caused the slightest sign of stress in him. Collected but always impeccably polite to customers, he moved across the counter with the poise and the care of a craftsman, virtually indistinguishable from humans in looks, but meticulously programmed to perfect his job like no one else could.

Every once in a while, Charles glanced at him.

Erik, said his nametag, in a smudged, childlike writing.

Giving androids names was far from being common practice, let alone naming an EL7, a Level 1 android. They were simply addressed by their model and were considered, like every other android, a ‘species’ inferior to humans or mutants. Anthropomorphic servants that imitated life, but that had no soul.

Charles had always believed that, too.

Androids got on his nerves more often than not, and he tried to interact with them as little as possible. Perhaps it was because when he read their minds, he found nothing. Perhaps it was because, for him, they were more unpredictable than any human being. And he found it unbearable to know that there were toasters sophisticated enough to trick him into thinking they had feelings.

But some months ago, when he ordered at that coffee shop for the first time, Charles’ exact words were: “Thank you, Erik.” And he never knew why.

At that moment, the EL7, taken by surprise, raised his eyes from the coffee and looked at Charles. “Thank you,” he said, smiled shyly, and then glanced down again.

After that thank you, Erik, there were more thank you, Eriks and hi, Erik and hi, Charles, and countless but brief conversations held while Charles ordered. By now it was a habit of his to go into the coffee shop when he needed to think about any case, which he needed fairly often. So, fairly often, Charles and Erik knew a bit more about each other.

Erik had a very reserved personality, but whenever Charles arrived at the counter, he seemed to light up. He talked about the books he had read, the music he had heard, and about how much he liked old cinema, specially from the 21st century. And when Charles spoke, he listened with veiled fascination.

Charles tried to reply with a certain skepticism, reminding himself over and over again that he was talking to a machine. While it was not the norm for an android of his level to have that many interests, it was not rare either, as their personalities were always developed to the last detail.

However, Charles couldn't help but like their little interactions, and the timid but burning spark that crossed Erik's eyes whenever Charles called him by that name, which he did a bit more often lately. And no matter what he told himself, every day he looked forward to ordering his bloody coffee.

Lost in thought, Charles caught sight of the only physical detail that gave Erik away — the logo on the back of his neck.

Shaw Systems.

Charles looked down. It was the same name that appeared on every page of the bunch of files he had on his table. They all contained the details of two seemingly unrelated murder cases committed by two androids, both of them — like Erik — property of Shaw Systems.

After a couple of minutes looking at the documents, Charles wanted to drown himself in his coffee. He had absolutely nothing. Some very basic information about the victims and the supposed murderers, and the rest, nonsensical theories written during some very dubious moments of clarity.

It was not easy, he thought, when the entire universe seemed to be against him.

Emma Frost, head engineer of Shaw Systems, had refused to provide information, stating that the design of their androids was faultless. If they had malfunctioned, she said, it was the owner's responsibility. Besides, she added while showing Charles the way out, she owed no explanation to a third-rate investigator. And thus, Charles' official relationship with the company was sentenced to death.

To make things even worse, that morning, Logan, his colleague in this case, had decided to step down. “We better not mess with them, Charles,” he told him, sincerely worried.

He was probably right. Hell, he was right. They were a small agency and Shaw Systems was a monstrous company, carrying on with the case would only lead to more problems. But Charles was already too obsessed with the investigation, too invested in those two murders. And though he could not put a finger on it, he knew that something else laid beneath the surface.

“Hello, Charles,” a soft voice spoke over his shoulder.

Charles almost jumped on his seat, startled, and promptly, he hid the documents on the table. Then he glanced up to find Erik's eyes. The android giggled at his reaction.

“Erik, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were here.”

Why the hell did he insist on talking to him as if he was a human being?

“Can I…” said Erik, pointing at the chair next to Charles'. He looked around, there were no customers at the moment.

Charles nodded, and Erik sat down, cautious, like a child at an unknown place. Having him there, so close to him, Charles asked himself if it was really necessary to design an android to be as attractive as Erik.

For a while, neither of them said a word. Charles' mind instinctively tried to reach out for Erik's, and as always, nothing came out of it. He could only rely on what he could see.

Erik was acting a bit erratic, making quick movements, examining his surroundings, and looking at Charles like he intended to say something but couldn't find the way.

It was one of the android's gestures that drew Charles' attention to the synthetic skin on the side of his neck. Part of the tissue had been torn, exposing some of Erik's inner circuits, and there was a small gap that seemed to continue expanding towards his chest, as if someone had ripped something out of him. Charles had enough knowledge on robotics to identify the missing part— the device that connected androids to the Shaw Systems central.

“Are you... are you okay, Erik?” he asked, just a little concerned.

That question was enough for the android to start talking.

“You are Xavier. Charles Xavier,” he said, lowering his voice.

“That’s me," Charles frowned. He never told him his full name.

“Detective from the M Agency.”

Now Charles was fully alert. “How do you —

“They are following you.”

Charles was more than used to those kinds of situations, but the concern in Erik's tone made it sound more disturbing. “W-who?”

Erik gave a quick glance around the room and pointed to an ad on the wall. Then his eyes went back to Charles. "Shaw," he almost whispered.

Charles wanted to act as the investigator he was, but he was too confused to do so. Erik continued, “You are beginning to appear in the media. They fear you.”

Fear. The greatest technological empire in the history of humankind and mutantkind was afraid of detective Charles. At any other circumstance, he would have burst into laughter. “This… this is a very minor case, I have no information at all, I'm positive I won't find out much more. I don't think —

“You are getting into something larger than you think,” the android interrupted him. “Those malfunctioning androids, they did not malfunction, they killed because they were told to do so.”

“What do you know about that?” Charles asked, bewildered but guided by his investigative instincts.

“Not much more, everything is wrapped in a veil of secrecy. But the maker is an ambitious man. Right now, he has control over every operative android, and I know him well enough to be certain that he wants to use that power. The company has always been untouchable, but now you’ve become a problem. You are making them very nervous, which means you are getting dangerously close to something." Erik moved one hand across the table and laid it a fraction of an inch away from Charles'. His voice trembled, “You have to be very careful, Charles."

Charles did not move. The electricity of Erik's body reached him too. He struggled to speak out loud. “Why do you know so much about this?”

Erik took a moment before answering. “Because I was commanded to kill you.”

Charles almost fainted right there.

Everything around him was spinning, and it took all his concentration to stay conscious. His best option was probably getting out of that place as quickly as possible and running away from the EL7. But he did not have the strength for that, and a part of him was dying to know more.

“Poisoning you. Getting rid of you as discreetly as possible.” resumed Erik, keeping an eye on Charles to make sure he was fine. “I tried everything, but my program forced me to obey.” He signaled the wounds on his neck. “So I disconnected myself from the central. Now some of my subsystems are malfunctioning, but I'm still working… and you are still alive. My next option was deactivation.”

Death. That meant deactivation for him. He was saying that he would have died to avoid killing him.

“However, I may be more useful for you alive,” he gave a hint of a smile. “When they realize I have not accomplished my mission, they will start looking for other ways to eliminate you… But you are very good at this, and I am now the only android that’s not under Shaw’s control, so if you trust me and you want to continue, maybe we can stop him.”

After that, Erik went silent for a moment. If he was expecting a reply from Charles, he could wait forever.

But he was not.

“Whatever you decide, whether you trust me or not, I promise you no one will hurt you as long as I live.”

Now Charles could barely breathe.

It was impossible. Impossible for an android to go against a direct order from the central. Impossible that he had chosen to disobey, when an android could not choose, nor disobey. Impossible that he had done it because —

“Why?” Charles asked.

This time Erik did not answer. He simply stared into Charles’ eyes.

It was not a robot's stare, it was just the stare of someone who didn’t know how much eye contact was common between humans. Charles saw himself in those eyes. Same hopes, same needs, same desires. And for the first time, he could almost read an android's mind. Erik didn’t fully understand why he had done what he did, he was confused, too. But he knew that there was, indeed, a reason. And it was a reason powerful enough to neutralize and counter the very purpose he had been designed for.

“There’s a movie theater across the street, they show old movies,” Charles finally spoke. “If you...”

Seeing he was unable to end the sentence, Erik smiled tenderly. And it was the most genuinely human reaction Charles had ever seen. “I love old movies.”

At that moment, a couple of customers entered the shop, and Erik stood up immediately, going back to the counter to do his job as efficiently as always. And for the rest of his shift, they could no longer stop looking at each other.

Thank you so much for reading! <3

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmen #cherik fic #fic #au-gust 2020 #coffee shop au #futuristic au #cherik au #chessinparis fic

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sareyen · 4 years ago

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Das Haus am See: The Lake House Cherik AU (Part 1/3)

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A Lake House Cherik AU: Charles and Erik both lived in the lake house, Charles in 2017, and Erik in 2019. By magic or fate, the two find out that the house’s letter box is able to send letters through time - and, in doing so, the two fall in love despite living in two different years. They vow to meet in the future, but fate is fickle, and time waits for no one.

Chapter 1

Erik grunted as he hauled the last of his boxes into the back of his car, cursing under his breath when the boot struggled to close. After some rearranging, Erik managed to fit all of his belongings into the back, grateful that he had never been the type to hoard.

Pulling out a pen and paper, Erik leaned on the boot of his car, quickly scrawling a concise note to the future tenant of the lakeside house overlooking Chautauqua Lake.

To the new tenant,

Welcome. As the previous tenant, I hope that you find everything to be in working order. I’ve filed my change of address with the post office, but their services are unreliable at best. If anything slips through, could you please forward my mail? My new address is below.

Thank you.

Also, the burn in the wall above the kitchen stove was there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. You can do whatever you want with that.

E. Lehnsherr.

Erik quickly folded the paper and shoved it into an envelope, licking the seal and sliding it into the slightly rusted red letterbox at the front of the house, flicking down the red flag on the box.

Erik took a moment to appreciate the house he has lived in for the past year and a half, corner of his mouth lifting. Erik took in the rustic red brick house with its blue-tiled roof, the white trimmed windows and flourishing green front lawn.

Early in the afternoon, the house was cast in a warm golden glow, light reflecting off the lake water in the distance. The house looked warm and lived in, a far cry from how it had looked when Erik had first moved in; barren, with wilting plants in pots hanging on the porch, grass yellowing, dust collecting on every antique piece of furniture inside it.

When Erik had first moved in, the lake house had been cold and barren, much like Erik himself. Erik had moved into the house a year and a half ago after everything with Magda had crumbled to pieces, the multiple miscarriages taking their toll and culminating in a messy divorce. Erik had felt dead inside, moving out of the suffocating city and taking temporary leave from his job as an estate planning lawyer to take some time to gather himself in solitude.

Erik had not thought that he would become so attached to the lake house, which was almost 7 hours by road from the hustle and bustle of NYC. Living alone in tranquillity had made Erik remember his childhood in Germany with his parents, of happier and calmer times. The house had helped him heal, and even though memories of Magda still made his heart ache a little, Erik had learned to shoulder it.

Erik gazed at the house fondly for a moment longer, before turning around to his car packed full of his meagre things, ready to make the trip back to the city and the real world, leaving this little slice of serenity behind.

***

Charles pulled up to his holiday home on the Chautauqua lakefront in his car (or “Rust Bucket” as his dear sister, Raven, endearingly called it). It was beyond Raven’s comprehension as to why Charles, a successful novelist, didn’t go and by himself a new car when he could obviously afford it.

In the end, Charles was sentimental, and clung to things longer than he should. That probably stemmed from the fact that, as a child, he hadn’t had much to hold onto, very little to hold dear. His father had died when he was young, and his step-father was controlling and over-bearing, leaving Charles little in the way of worldly possessions.

But, Charles had been given the gift of heart and wit, and with that, he had built a career in prose. Inspired by his difficult childhood, Charles had created a book series about disenfranchised outcasts with special powers – outcasts that were as extraordinary as they were feared, beautiful but distrusted. Charles wrote about outcasts who could stand up for themselves, to cement their place in the world despite being beaten down at every corner, who would persevere even in the darkest of times.

The series spoke to anyone who had been alienated, who had been mocked for being different. It had become a platform on social commentary, on racism and homophobia, on class struggle and the inequalities that run rampant in the world.

The final book in the “X” tetralogy had been published only recently, and Charles’s fans were eager to find out if the New York Times best-selling author Francis Graymalkin was writing anything new.

Unfortunately, Charles had fallen into a writing slump – after concluding the X series, Charles found himself lost. The X series had consumed his life for the past decade, and now that it was finished, Charles did not know what to do. He had half-formed ideas rattling around in his head, but none that really inspired him.

It had been Raven’s idea to go and do some ‘soul-searching’, as she called it. Charles assumed she had gotten the idea from her current partner, a star-sign-abiding hippie who claimed that she could see the future. Apparently, Charles getting out of NYC would do him some good, and Charles had been inclined to agree – a change in scenery may be what he needed to find his writing inspiration again, and if not, he could at least get a holiday out of it.

It had been after Charles’s first ‘X’ novel had reached critical acclaim that he bought the lakeside house. He hadn’t really understood what had drawn him to it so much, but something in his mind screamed at him to buy it. It had been a charming house, two-storeys and made of red brick. It was a somewhat old house too, but looked well-loved and charmingly worn. Charles, who lived in well-loved and charmingly worn cardigans and enjoyed nothing more than curling up in a blanket with a cup of warm tea had been smitten by the quant property immediately.

Charles didn’t know how long he would live in this lakeside house for, since he didn’t know how long it would take him to complete a new novel. Getting out of his car, Charles didn’t begin unpacking just yet. It had been years since he’d been to the property and he had hired someone to maintain it, but he wanted to look at it for himself.

Charles unlocked the door and took a turn about the spacious house; warm wooden interior, large bay windows that overlooked the lake, antique furniture that looked both mismatched and fitting in the same breath. Charles smiled to himself, running his finger along a dark marble countertop in the kitchen, before opening the large doors to the back veranda by the lake.

“Home sweet home,” Charles murmured to nobody but himself and the lake, which rippled in response as a gust of wind brushed across it. Charles breathed in and out, before walking back to the front of the house.

It was then that he noticed the letterbox’s flag was tilted down, and Charles blinked curiously – no one had lived in the lake house ever since Charles bought it nine years ago, and he knew that the caretakers wouldn’t be sending mail out from his address.

Charles opened the letterbox then, and inside was a single letter in crisp white paper that looked too fresh to have been sitting there for a long time. Holding the letter in his hands, neat and heavy-handed lettering with ‘To the resident’ on the front, Charles glanced around.

He was alone, the secluded house still and quiet.

Charles walked plonked himself down some low stone walling lining the outside of the house, ripping open the letter with his finger.

“Previous tenant?” Charles read aloud, frowning. Unless this letter was from someone living there a decade ago, it had to be a prank, or a mistake. Charles read on, raising a brow about the kitchen burn marks and the box in the attic. When Charles had walked around the house moments earlier, he hadn’t noticed anything amiss in the kitchen, curiosity beginning to bubble in his stomach.

Jumping up with vigour, Charles clutched the letter tightly as he headed directly to the kitchen, inspecting the wall that was supposed to be singed. Charles inspected his kitchen carefully, but there were no burn marks to be seen anywhere.

“A prank?” Charles mused to himself, looking back at the letter. “Box in the attic?”

Charles checked there too, but all he found there were cobwebs and dust, making him sneeze. Climbing back down from the attic, Charles chuckled at his fanciful beliefs. This E. Lehnsherr was either a jokester, or awfully confused.

Charles quickly threw the letter onto the kitchen table, not thinking too much about it, too busy moving his things in and unpacking the rest when the movers came – he always had a lot of things, never being able to let the things he treasured go.

***

It was a two weeks later that it happened.

Charles had never had the most skill in the kitchen, a simple stir-fry the extent of his culinary expertise. Today, he had been particularly scatterbrained, frustrated by his lack of creativity and being stuck writing the same three paragraphs over and over, not feeling inspired in the slightest. To top it off, Charles hadn’t slept particularly well – the nightmares of his childhood had tempered with age, but every now and then, they would make his nights hell.

Half asleep and dazed, Charles had taken his eye off his saucepan, the flames catching on some of his food and bursting upwards in a roaring flame. Charles squeaked, quickly turning off the burner and tugging the saucepan off the heat, singing his finger in the process. Charles hissed, jamming his finger under cold water as the flames died down.

Looking glumly at his smoky-borderline-charcoal dinner, Charles suddenly realised that the wall was burned.

‘Also, the burn in the wall above the kitchen stove was there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. You can do whatever you want with that.’

“Impossible,” Charles whispered to himself, hastily turning off the tap, charred dinner forgotten. Charles stumbled over to his kitchen table that had become covered with paper, books and empty tea-cups, rummaging around for the letter he had haphazardly thrown there weeks ago. Under a water bill and his worn copy of Jane Eyre, Charles found the letter from E. Lehnsherr.

Coincidence?

Or fate?

Raven’s hippie girlfriend would definitely say fate, that it was written in the stars or in her tea leaves.

Whether it was mere coincidence or true, divine fate, Charles deemed that he should at least respond to the letter, considering E. Lehnsherr had left his new address. Scrounging up a pen from a pocket in his cardigan and ripping out some paper from the leather-bound notebook he always carried around, Charles wrote back.

January 21st, 2017

Dear Mr/Ms Lehnsherr,

I received your letter, but I believe there has been some sort of misunderstanding. I purchased this lake house nine years ago and have never rented it out in that time, leaving it empty for all of these years. Perhaps your letter was meant for the Sandburg cottage down the shore, since that, to my knowledge, has been unoccupied for years.

More importantly, I am curious about the supposed burn marks in the kitchen, for when I moved in the wall was pristine. Just moments ago, however, I was attempting to make a chicken stir-fry and singed the wall above the stove, just as your letter had said. How could you know about that, when it only just happened?

Kindest regards,

C. F. Xavier

Charles smiled at the letter, before carefully folding it up and sliding it into an envelope, placing it back into the letterbox and flicking the flag down.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to write. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he would write about, but it would stem from a mysterious letter from a man that seemed to know about things before they happened.

***

“Getting back into the swing of things, Sugar?” Emma asked as she slid into the chair opposite Erik in the breakroom, nursing an expensive cappuccino from the luxurious company coffee machine. Erik fiddled with his own plain black coffee, snorting.

“Estate law isn’t rocket science, Emma,” Erik said offhandedly, Emma chuckling as she flicked her long blonde hair off her shoulder, smoothing her crisp white silk blouse.

“Yes, but you’ve been out of action for almost two years. It would be normal to be a little rusty,” Emma replied, Erik shrugging. “And with your own experience, sometimes estate planning law can be… emotional.”

Erik gave Emma a warning glance, his co-worker encroaching on dangerous territory. Emma just smiled at him coolly, unfazed by his cutting gaze. Even though Erik was notoriously private and solitary by nature, people knew about his troubled marriage and the reason for his brief leave from work. Though Erik was no divorce lawyer, managing wills and estates after someone’s death had hit a bit too close to home, and even now, people walked around him on eggshells.

“It’s fine, Emma,” Erik responded, the woman humming as she sipped on her cappuccino. “It’s just numbers and law, nothing more.”

“Hm, heartless as always, Sugar,” Emma chuckled, getting up and patting Erik’s shoulder. “Seems like you have gone back to your usual self after your little retreat. Congratulations.”

Erik rolled his eyes, not feeling like he should be congratulated at all. He had always been somewhat emotionally detached – not emotionless, because Erik felt. Has felt. He loved Magda, greatly, and he had hurt when he lost her. He had also known hurt after all of their miscarriages, after the deaths of his parents. Erik, at this point, was used to loss.

That’s why estate planning law was, at times, hard – dealing with the affairs of those recently deceased and looking into the eyes of their mourning relatives, Erik could relate. After losing Magda, Erik had needed a break, to rebuild the walls around his heart.

And he had rebuilt them, or so he thought.

When Erik returned to his office after his break, he found his boss, Sebastian Shaw, waiting for him.

“Ah, Lehnsherr, there you are,” Shaw said, thin lips pulling back in a grin. Erik was not overly fond of his boss, who was too cut-throat at times, but that made him damn good lawyer. It was from him that Erik learnt to push clients and their opposition to get the most that they could, but a part of Erik could never quite meet Shaw’s callousness.

“What is it?” Erik asked, voice clipped. Shaw just grinned at Erik’s brusque tone, eyeing his best lawyer carefully.

“I know it’s only been a short time since you’ve been back working with us, but you were always my best. Our services have been requested to manage to estate of a high-profile client,” Shaw said, Erik’s eyes narrowing.

“If you’re coming to me with this, it must be a big client,” Erik said carefully, Shaw chuckling.

“Quick, as always. Yes, it is a big client. Do you know the author, Francis Graymalkin?”

“Author of the X tetralogy?” Erik asked slowly, heart thundering. Shaw nodded, and Erik frowned, heart squeezing. “He died around two years ago, though.”

Erik was a huge fan of Francis Graymalkin’s work, having read the first novel in the famous X series, ‘First Class’, just after it had been released. At that point, the book hadn’t gained the traction and fame it was now renowned for, but it had spoken to Erik deeply. Francis Graymalkin’s words were full of soul, witty at times, startlingly emotional at others. Through Francis Graymalkin’s words, Erik could feel his character’s pain and their elation, and though the political and social commentary was oftentimes naïve and pacifistic, Francis Graymalkin always made sure to touch on all sides of an argument. While he clearly lauded the integrationist perspective in his novels, he did not discount the separatist standpoint that one of his characters, Magneto, championed.

Francis Graymalkin’s work helped Erik through the pain of his mother’s death, which occurred a few months before the release of the second novel, which saw the characters persevering through a dismal future even when all hope seemed lost. The fourth book was what helped Erik get through the mess with Magda – ‘Phoenix’ touched on the loss of a character that the protagonist considered a daughter and the ramifications of that. The book ended on a note of hope, which Erik clung to.

Francis Graymalkin was notoriously private, not showing his face once, though he had penned numerous interviews over the years. Erik read every one of them, finding the man intriguing, sometimes snorting at his political views that so often contradicted Erik’s own but were so thoughtfully explained that Erik couldn’t discredit them at all. Even though Erik had never met Francis Graymalkin, nor had he ever seen the man’s face, the author had done more for Erik than anyone else before.

Erik had heard that the author had begun writing a new novel, and that he had been in the final stages of completing it before he died. Erik had been eager to read it, even if Francis Graymalkin said that it was vastly different from his previous work – a romance novel, of sorts, apparently. Sadly, reading it was now a dream that would be left unfulfilled, because Francis Graymalkin was dead, his story left unfinished.

“Yes, from memory it was a car accident two years ago. I think this it’ll be two years to the day in a month,” Shaw said, sounding cold and detached. Erik swallowed thickly, angry that the life of someone so inspirational had been snuffed out just like that by a simple hunk of moving metal. “Some new things have come to light in the man’s will. To put it short, a family squabble has erupted, and the man’s sister has hired our services. Since this is a high-profile case involving millions, I need you to take over the cases I’m currently working. I’m going to need to pour all of my effort into the Graymalkin estate proceedings.”

Erik wasn’t surprised that Shaw was hogging the Graymalkin estate, because Erik would’ve done the same if he were in Shaw’s shoes, though for entirely different reasons. Shaw liked high-profile, lucrative work, but Erik just wanted to see the affairs of one of his favourite authors realised as he willed it.

But, Shaw was his boss, and he had no reason to contest the man’s plan, not when his argument solely hinged on being a fan of Francis Graymalkin’s novels.

“Fine,” was all Erik said, Shaw clapping his hands together once, satisfied.

“Excellent! I’ll send you the details of the estates I’m settling after my meeting with Francis Graymalkin’s sister,” Shaw said, leaving Erik’s office with little else.

Erik sighed, suddenly feeling a lot more drained, and counted down the hours until he could go home. Erik suddenly felt the urge to just curl up in bed and read one of Francis Graymalkin’s novels. Remember the man’s death struck something in the German man, and it was almost funny how Erik immediately sought comfort in the dead man’s own books.

***

When Erik went home, he realised that his copies of Francis Graymalkin’s books were nowhere to be found. They weren’t in any of the half-unpacked boxes he had pushed against the walls of his newly built apartment, they weren’t in his bookshelf stacked with law tomes and other novels, and they weren’t anywhere in his car.

“Shit,” Erik muttered, shower-damp hair dripping down the back of his bare neck as he padded around his apartment, the smell of fresh paint still making his head spin a little despite airing out the room the day he moved in.

If the books weren’t here in his new apartment, they had to be at the lake house. Considering Erik drove straight from there to his new abode in NYC, that was the only logical option.

So, it was on that weekend, that Erik made the seven-hour (or six, at the speed Erik drove), trip back to the Chautauqua lake house.

Erik could have easily bought the series anew at a bookstore, but something about that idea irked him – his copies were well-read, dog-eared in spots, coffee stains dropped on some pages. The spines of the paperbacks were worn, and the covers faded, but they were familiar under the pads of Erik’s fingers, and reminded him of hours spent reading and coming alive through Francis Graymalkin’s words.

Erik wasn’t often sentimental, but Francis Graymalkin tended to stir up unfamiliar feelings in Erik’s soul.

Erik had contacted the real estate agency managing the property, who temporarily returned his keys to let him gather his final things – since Erik left a few weeks ago, only the young lady that apparently owned it had come here, but that things were in contention since there was some sort of dispute regarding the property’s true owner. Erik didn’t inquire too much about it, wanting to gather his books and make the drive home, not keen to spend more than a day on the road.

Erik found the box he had missed behind the couch, which had since been covered up with white cloth. The house seemed duller and emptier without inhabitants, and for some reason, it felt like the building was holding its breath. Waiting.

For what, Erik didn’t quite know.

Erik gave the house a silent farewell for a second time, loading the single box of books into his backseat. As he was getting into the car, Erik noticed the letter box’s flag was up, signifying that mail had been delivered. Considering Erik was the house’s last tenant, he cursed the post office’s shoddy work at listening to his change of address notice, getting back out of his car and trudging over to the metal contraption.

Opening it, Erik found a few bills that had slipped through his change of address notice, and some junk mail that he swiftly ignored. Erik was about to close the letterbox when he noticed a letter beneath a flyer for a local pizza shop – it was not the letter Erik had left there two weeks ago, and strangely, it was addressed to him.

‘To E. Lehnsherr,’ was printed on the front in elegant cursive, and Erik picked it up.

“What the hell?” Erik muttered, tucking his bills under his arm and ripping open the letter, grey eyes running from side to side as he read it, brow creasing. Then, Erik scoffed. Though its author was eloquent and polite, they seemed to be confused – an older individual, with dementia, perhaps. The letter was dated February 9th, 2017 – but, as Erik checked again, it was currently Saturday the 9th of February, 2019.

To be stuck two years in the past, this C. F. Xavier was either an idiot, or a poor, lost soul.

Even more ridiculous was the fact that this person (whom Erik assumed to be the lake house’s contentious female owner the real estate agent had mentioned visiting) thought that no one lived here, when Erik had literally moved out two weeks ago. C. F. Xavier must be confused, and Erik felt that he needed to correct the person, or at least give them a healthy dose of reality.

Erik walked back to his car, opening the box of books in his backseat to find some paper to write on. Erik found an old notebook, ripping out an empty back page before scribbling down a response to C. F. Xavier.

February 9th, 2019

Dear Ms Xavier,

I am familiar with the cottage that you mentioned, and I assure you that I did not mistake my own address. Unfortunately, you seem to be confused – I’ve lived at this lake house for almost two years, and have since moved to ---, NYC. It would be great if you could forward my mail to this address if you receive any.

And, by the way, it’s 2019. It has been all year – ask anyone.

Erik

Erik may have been a little aggressive by underlining 2019 so heavily, but he didn’t care too much, folding the letter inside the empty letterbox and flicking down the flag.

Walking back to his car, Erik suddenly heard the squeak of metal behind him, turning with a slightly startled jump.

The letter box’s flag was up.

Erik’s eyes darted around his surroundings, trying to look for the prankster, but it was quiet.

Then, the flag jerked itself down without a hand touching it.

Erik’s heart hammered, his long legs surging forward and his hands ripping open the letter box. The folded letter he had just placed in there had disappeared, and something else had replaced it. It was from the same paper C. F. Xavier’s initial note had been written on, and on it was the same refined cursive scrawl.

He had just received a reply from C. F. Xavier, a C. F. Xavier who was nowhere to be seen.

***

Charles almost screamed when he saw the flag move itself, blue eyes staring at the metal letterbox with a mixture of fear and rapture. Charles nibbled on the end of his pen, unblinking, waiting for the phantom to move the letterbox again.

“Come on, my friend…” Charles goaded the lake house phantom, gasping when, after a long, laborious length of time, the flag shoved itself down. “Good God.”

Charles opened the letterbox, and found that the paper he had placed face down only about five minutes ago was now face up, with E. Lehnsherr’s – Erik’s – distinct scrawl beneath Charles’s own lettering. Charles couldn’t help but laugh, breathless and giddy, reading the mysterious letter with excitement.

February 4th, 2017

Dear Erik,

My friend, I’m not sure about you, but it is the year 2017 where I am. You told me to ask anyone, and I did – I texted my sister and my friends, and they all assure me that it is indeed 2017.

While our incongruous dates are confounding, I am more intrigued as to how you are responding to me. I am not well-versed in practical jokes or magic, so may I ask, how are you doing this?

Yours,

Charles

P.S. I’m not sure what lead you to believe that I am Ms. Xavier, but I am usually addressed as Mr. Xavier. However, please just address me as Charles.

Charles,

I am as confused as you are – if anyone is the magician, it’s you. I’ve been watching this letterbox, and no one has touched it.

Erik

P.S. The real estate agent said that this property was owned by a woman. I didn’t mean to offend you, nor assume your gender.

Charles blinked, swallowing deeply. This was…

Amazing.

Charles sucked in a breath, planting himself on the grass in front of the letterbox, ripping a new piece of paper from his notebook and writing with fervour.

Erik,

Don’t worry, you did not offend me in the slightest, and even if you did, I’m rather pre-occupied worrying about the fact that we can even have this conversation.

My mind is fanciful by nature, and I can think of a few different scenarios that read like fiction – but, with what is happening, fiction seems to be our new reality. Since you are adamant that you are living in 2019, and I am even more sure that it is currently 2017, I’d wager that this letterbox is some sort of time-travelling device.

Either that, or I am going insane. Please tell me that I am not alone in my insanity, my friend.

Charles

Charles placed the letter in the letterbox, flicked the flag, and waited.

He did not have to wait long for a response.

***

Charles,

It seems that you aren’t alone in your insanity. But, I think I am more insane for thinking that your illogical logic is… logical. In case you are still in disbelief, I have a coin minted in 2018 – not 2019, but futuristic enough.

Erik

Erik grinned down at his response, pulling out a 2018 dime from his pocket and placing it atop the letter. Erik willed in his heart for the coin to be sent through smoothly, not sure about the limitations of this time-travelling device in the shape of a letter box. Erik waited for Charles’s response eagerly.

He, too, did not wait long.

***

Erik,

A dime from the future – how much do you think it would go for on the market? Some coin collectors can be positively rabid.

I joke, though. Erik, this is amazing. Whatever physics are at work here, I can’t even begin to explain it – I may have a degree in biophysics, amongst other things, but my knowledge on time travel tells me that the very concept is a myth. Science fiction. I’m not sure what I could send you to prove that I am indeed from the past, but it seems like you believe me thus far.

Here is a biscuit that’s expiring soon – in March 2017, to be precise. So, about a month from now (my time).

Charles

Before sending the letter, Charles had pat himself down, trying to think of something to give Erik but coming up empty – everything Charles had could be easily procured in the future. Still, Charles felt like he should send Erik something – in the end, he placed a plastic-wrapped biscuit alongside his letter, flicking down the flag as he held Erik’s 2018-minted dime in his palm, the metal warm.

***

Charles,

I’m sure you would be called a fraud if you tried to sell a dime from the future. Frankly, I think I would be the only person who would believe you.

And Charles, in your opinion, would the biscuit be safe to consume? Technically, two years haven’t passed in the biscuit’s lifetime.

Erik

***

Erik,

If I met you now, you wouldn’t believe me any way – because, for you, this conversation hasn’t even happened yet.

And that is marvellous to think about, isn’t it? Positively groovy. Also, please try the biscuit – if you become ill, let me know.

Charles

Erik let out a choked laugh, eyeing the biscuit he had left sitting atop the letter box. The thought that Charles had procured it and thoughtfully given it to Erik made something churn in the German’s belly. Whether that was a side effect of the strange warmth spreading in his chest or because his stomach pre-empted the food poisoning the expired-but-unexpired biscuit would give him, Erik couldn’t tell.

Still, Erik opened the plastic packaging, swallowing down the biscuit in two bites.

It was sweet.

***

Groovy? Really, Charles? How old are you?

I had pegged you for a senile old man at first, since you seemed to be stuck two years in the past – I think you just confirmed my suspicions.

(And the biscuit was delicious.)

***

Charles snorted at Erik’s response, not feeling offended but elated instead – Charles’s heart was thumping wildly, lurching ever time the letter box would rattle. Charles couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as he hastily penned a reply to his new friend.

A senile old man? You wound me, Erik!

And I’m 31. So, in your time, I would be 33. But, since you’ve made fun of me for my age, how old are you then? Twelve?

***

Almost. Triple it.

***

You’re 36 in 2019, then? So, you’d be a youthful 34-year-old right now.

***

Congratulations, Charles. You can do math.

Erik chuckled to himself, licking his lips as he sent the snarky and teasing response.

How long had it been, since Erik could speak with someone so easily? So naturally?

It had been a long time – maybe ever since Magda?

Or maybe even before that?

***

This infantile mocking is why I thought you were 12, Erik. But I do apologise – I shouldn’t make fun of my elders.

Charles wasn’t sure if he was teasing or flirting now – maybe a mixture of both. But, God, talking to Erik lit something inside Charles that had been dormant for a long time.

***

Who’s the child now? Are you sure you’re not in elementary school still, Charles?

***

I graduated from high-school when I was 16, actually. So, no, I am far from being in elementary school, my friend. Unfortunate, because I think we could have become great friends in the playground, considering we are both apparently 12-years-old.

***

I have no doubt about that, Charles.

But, you mentioned that you have a degree in biophysics?

***

Well, a PhD in biophysics, to be precise.

Erik’s eyebrows went up when he read Charles’s response. The man had sounded educated in his responses, but this was impressive. Charles was an intellectual, and that was something Erik appreciated. Still, he felt the need to tease the (slightly) younger man.

***

Are you bragging?

***

No, my friend. If I were bragging, I’d tell you about my other PhDs in genetics, anthropology and psychology. Oh, and my meagre Bachelor’s degree in English.

Erik choked when he read Charles’s reply, grey eyes bulging. Gott, Charles was a genius. Was he even real?

Time travelling was one thing, but someone like Charles Xavier – funny, intelligent, cheeky Charles Xavier – existing?

Erik could hardly believe it.

***

So, you’re a 12-year-old child genius then?

***

You’re the one who said it, my friend. Not me.

What about you? What did 12-year-old you grow up to become?

Charles wanted to know more about this man who lived in the future – sure, Charles was curious about other things about the future unknown to him, like world events, new technologies, political intrigue – but more than that, he wanted to know about the man who lived in it.

A man that, in what was a handful of minutes that spanned two years, Charles felt bound to.

Raven’s girlfriend was, maybe, right about something.

***

A lawyer, specialising in estate planning law. No PhDs here, so I have nothing to brag about.

***

You’re selling yourself short, Erik. I’d wager that it isn’t easy becoming a lawyer, having to pass the bar amongst other things. Not to mention the fact that your job involves professional arguing – I enjoy a good debate myself, but I could never become a lawyer.

Erik smiled at that. He could feel that Charles’s words were genuine and spoken from the heart. There was something about the way he wrote that made it seem like he bore his heart on the page, something that Erik had always struggled with.

But, talking to Charles like this, Erik felt lighter.

***

And I could never complete 4 PhDs. Oh, and a bachelors in writing – how could I forget?

***

Why do I feel like you’re mocking me again, my friend?

***

Because I am.

***

Hmph – that’s the noise I made just then. It’s a shame that you can’t hear it in person.

And God, Charles wanted to hear Erik’s voice. To speak with him – but sadly, he was two years too early.

***

What if I could?

Erik’s heart hammered – Gott, he wanted to hear Charles’s voice. He wondered if Charles’s voice would match his gentle, elegant cursive. If it did, he imagined Charles to be soft-spoken, maybe with a posh accent. For some reason that seemed to match Charles’s written voice well. But, from what Erik could tell, Charles had a mischievous streak – the man was surprising, in every way.

***

What do you mean?

***

What if I called you, in my time?

Charles almost dropped his pen when he read Erik’s words, eyes widening to blue saucers.

***

You mean, in the future?

***

That’s another way of saying it.

***

Very well, I’ll bite. Here’s my number: XX XXXX XXXX

Call me.

Erik found himself breathless all of a sudden, staring at the string of numbers.

Charles’s number.

Erik hadn’t felt like this since he was actually 12-years-old.

***

Is this how you give people your number in bars, Charles?

“Are you flirting with me, Erik?” Charles asked himself incredulously, though his cheeks coloured.

‘God, I hope you’re flirting with me, my friend.’

***

No, usually I just skip that step and take them home.

But enough stalling, Erik – have you called future me yet?

Erik couldn’t help the surprised laugh that erupted from his throat. Charles, Charles, Charles.

***

Not yet – Charles, I will call you at precisely 3:05pm on Monday, the 9th of February 2019. Which, for me, is a minute from now.

“I’ll be waiting,” Charles vowed to no one but himself, wondering where he would be in two years, waiting for Erik to call. Would he be back home in NYC, tucked away in his office? Or would he be at his publisher’s, excusing himself from a meeting with his editor, Moira MacTaggert, to answer Erik’s impending call in private?

Or, maybe, Charles would have tried to surprise Erik. Charles could surprise him by showing up at the lake house, since he knew that Erik was there, right now.

Why hadn’t Charles done that already?

***

Alright. I’ll be waiting for your call, Erik.

Erik’s hands were shaking as he dialled Charles’s number, double and triple checking to make sure the digits were correct.

He pressed call.

The phone rang for a few beats, and then a few more, and then for many, many more. Eventually, the robotic female voice told Erik that Charles did not pick up, and Erik’s heart fell, disappointment flooding him over a man two years away.

Erik didn’t know what to do, and ten minutes passed – there hadn’t been this much of a lag between their sent letters, and Erik was surprised when the letter box flag jerked up and then down.

Erik hastily checked it, pocketing his phone once again.

Have you called future me yet, my friend?

***

I did – you didn’t pick up, you asshole.

Charles frowned. He hadn’t picked up? Why hadn’t he picked up?

Future Charles, you idiot.

***

Well. I’m disappointed in future me. Something must have held me up. I do apologise, my friend. Please believe me when I say that I want nothing more than to answer your call.

Gosh, I’m making excuses for a me that doesn’t exist yet.

But, please, Erik – trust me when I say that I am very sorry.

***

Erik sighed, reading Charles’s message over and over. He did seem awfully apologetic, and maybe he was right – even though this was now for Erik, for Charles it was two years in the future. Many things could’ve changed for the man in that time. He could have simply forgotten, he may have moved countries and changed time zones, or maybe, knowing Charles, he overworked himself getting a 5th PhD and was passed out over his desk.

Erik noticed that the sky was beginning to glow orange, sunset approaching, cursing under his breath. If he didn’t start driving home now, it would be well past midnight by the time he got back to his apartment.

No apologies needed, Charles. Two years is a long time, and I’m sure you were just busy – working on your 5th PhD, perhaps?

And, sadly, I have to leave now – I was only here to pick up some books that I had left behind. I’ve got to drive back to NYC now.

***

Charles read Erik’s letter, frowning. Was this it, then?

Charles didn’t want this to be it.

Oh, that’s sad news, my friend – this conversation with you, no matter how brief, has meant more to me than you know. I’m not sure what magic is at work here, but I will be here in a week’s time. I would very much like to speak to you again, Erik, if you wanted.

Charles waited with bated breath, hands pressed together tightly as he eyed the letter box flag.

Up.

Down.

Charles opened the letter box, surprised to find Erik’s letter wedged between the pages of a worn book – The Once and Future King.

I’d also like to speak with you again – this… means a lot to me, too. I hate to leave so soon, but I’ll give you this to help pass the time before I can return. It’s my favourite novel – considering you have a bachelors in English, you may have already read it, but still.

Until next week, Charles.

Charles laughed, fingering the pages of the book before dropping his forehead to its cover, breathing in the smell of old pages and something like cologne.

Erik’s cologne.

“I’ll be waiting, my friend,” Charles whispered, getting up and walking back into the lake house, not waiting a moment before going into the study and booting up his laptop, which was open to the novel he had begun working on when he had first received a reply from Erik.

“Days of Future Past – by Francis Graymalkin”.

Next chapter (2/3) →

#cherik #Charles Xavier #Erik Lehnsherr #x-men #x-men fic #the lake house #au #marvel #james mcavoy #Michael Fassbender #ao3 #AO3 fanfic #professor x #magneto #time travel

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confessionsofanoperaghost · 6 years ago

Note

🎭 for the PotO meme

1. Does the name “Erik” get your attention, no matter where or in what context you hear it? ,,,,,,,,,,actually yes.

2. Would you travel or have you traveled to certain places only because they were PotO-related? Which ones? I certainly would! And I have a long long list of places that are from my headcanon as well! But sadly they are in Europe, Asia and the Middle East. Cost is a factor.

3. Would you see the musical by yourself because your friends or family weren’t in the mood to go with you? Have you done so already? I haven’t and I might. It really depends on how my relationship to the musical changes over the next 20-60 years. I’m not keen on most of ALW’s recent touch on the franchise and I’m worried about more and more or Maria Bjornson’s work getting dropped from the tour (and rumors say maybe from the Broadway and WE productions as well in time??). So, we’ll see. I will be happy to outlive ALW and bear witness to the various ways the The Really Useful Group shoots itself in the foot. But its so expensive to watch something that’s only going to break your heart--and not in the ways you want it to. So it REALLY depends.

4. How often have you seen the musical? I have seen it exactly once. It came to my hometown in 1999 (I was 15) and I spent every penny I could scrape together to get an orchestra-level ticket. And frankly I was unimpressed. I never went back. I feel bad for saying it. It might have been better for me if I had grown up with bootlegs, but I had only read the book and listened to the OLC. I literally didn’t know what to expect from the tour. I’m not sure.

5. How much PotO stuff do you own? I should just say “a lot of stuff I dunno, lol” but I suddenly want to think about this.

My original deMattos paperback

A David Coward paperback

A Wolfe paperback (its at a friend’s house at the moment)

The “milestone collection” two DVD disc set with all the extras of the 1925 Poto with Lon Chaney Sr (my babe!!!)

The Cherik miniseries (as a bootleg copy on DVD...i paid good money for it tho, lol)

the 2004 movie cuz it was cheap as hell

Original London Cast recording of the ALW musical on CD

This BRILLIANT book about the making of the 1925 silent film

An actual first run copy of The Phantom of Manhattan by Fredrick Forsythe (purchased for me on clearance as a joke.)

A cheap copy of Susan Kay’s book that a friend picked up for me. I’ve been asked to do a seething read-along. I figured I should probably own the book before I literally rip it a brand new shiny asshole on YouTube...

a weird, like, 14 pages long, full color, SUPER condensed version of the book with Greg Hildebrant’s drawings. This was the present our teacher purchased for the acting class that produced a weird 1970′s straight-play version of the story that no one seems to remember now (its not particularly good so don’t worry)

the “Barnes and Noble” deMattos hardcover edition that --because it started to fall apart right away--I have been using for art projects and pop-culture-based spells

A large locket with Lon Chaney’s Erik (and his Quasimodo)

one of Muirin007′s gorgeous prints

An adorable necklace made by MegLouiseGiry that’s got a slice from the book in it and a heart-shaped crystal (Poto Secret Santa 2017)

A Lon Chaney 1925 POTO T Shirt. And it glows in the dark! (I got his Quasi on a shirt too but sadly it does not glow in the dark)

a 17,000+ word Google document: a sticky rough draft of my Erik-life-story Phic that I may or may not have been working on for 2 decades.

similarly, a red and gold notebook stuffed with tangled notes and headcanons and bad phan poetry from the 1990s

A bunch of other books that look unrelated to the untrained eye (for research)

a 6 inch figure of Lon Chaney’s POTO dangling from a plastic chandelier that happens to be about to scale

a thousand other items that may not look like references to Poto to the untrained eye... like: a red scarf and round-framed spectacles and an antique violin case and a choking kink and a skull mask and a dramatic red and gold cape and daddy issues and a balcony overlooking the sea and a black mask that covers the whole face and an attraction to the most beautiful hands........

6. Have you had dreams about the Phantom or other characters? Do you remember any in particular? I’ve only had dreams about Erik. Usually I am myself or Christine or some slurry of the two. Here’s the best one:

Saturday, November 19, 2016. True Beauty.

There was the theatre. The wings and the lifts. Backstage lights. Curtains.

Joseph Bouquet spots the fiend in the catwalks and is--fast as lightning--slaughtered by the quickest of lassos. Other stagehands and security ascend to the tops, chasing a shadow they can barely see. Someone thinks they’ve captured his cloak only to find their fists full of nothing.They chase this shadow to the roof and find nothing but stars as the phantom killer slips away...down into the dark.

Carved structure. The dark is black and warm. He feels near. Yes, Erik has come for you. A lucid dream, I am both player and played.

I am playing you.

You feel a dance. You cannot find your way out of all that warm darkness. Though she cannot see, she feels her maestro all around. Unable to retreat, unable to find light; she turns but I am already there... darkness and a warm, red, deep glow. She twists in anxiety and frustration--away! away! away!-- breathing as though she is counting her final breaths. Twisting and trying to find some cool air or a bit of sunlight.

Erik shows her that there is no escape from Erik. He is is every corner of her.

She succumbs.

7. How many times have you read the book? Literally more than I can count. At 15 I had MOST of Chapter 13, Apollo’s Lyre, memorized (deMattos translation). Iv’e only read it in English and I have yet to read some of the less-recommended translations.

8. How many songs from the musical could you recite from memory? (Or just sing along to?) So I have almost the whole thing more-or-less memorized EXCEPT that its ONLY the version as sung in the Original London Cast recording. So every single line that has been changed since then (or god forbid an unedited soundtrack where all the choruses of Hannibal are included, lol) I get wrong. But yeah i listened to that nightly for like 2 years of my adolescence and I can hardly listen to any of it now. I burned places in my synapses.

9. Do you randomly quote lines from the book or musical in real life? Don’t you? Honestly, the most fun I have is calling up fun lines and needle them into my vocabulary throughout a regular day. Unless you do an obvious one your average person isn’t going to know.

10. Have you ever met up with another phan? Yes but by the time I’ve me up with them its definitely about something more relevant than the Phandom that brought us together.

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oncerpotter2018 · 7 years ago

Text

Whatever It Takes-A Cherik Fanfiction ( A Taken AU)

Sorry for the long wait but here's chapter 15, sorry again I had writer's block and I've been so busy with school work lately but I hope you enjoy it. 😊

@drunkardonjunkyard

@deeranger

Chapter 15

It was mid-summer and they decided that for a fun day out they should have a quite evening down in the park. So when Charles got the picnic ready Erik had a brilliant idea and in his own mind, it would be the most special and romantic idea ever, what could ever go wrong?

"are you ready?" called Charles as he took the handle of the basket in his hand. Erik came down dressed casually as he held a camera in one hand as he wrapped his other around Charles.

"Yeah I'm ready" replied Erik before he pulled Charles in and kissed him on the lips. Charles kissed back and after pulling away Charles rested his head on his chest.

"I love you"

"I love you too" replied Erik as they made sure they had everything and when they did they headed for their final destination.

The park was nearly empty but another than that Charles and Erik were happy for it to stay that way. they settled down on a nice stretch of open field before placing the blanket on the grass where they prepared their lunch.

"I have no idea why we didn't think of this before," said Charles his hand gracing over Erik's own hand.

"you never asked" joked Erik his mouth closing in on his lover's neck. Charles allowed Erik to kiss him on the neck, the tickling sensation was what he liked and when Erik does it the kiss is tender and sweet, his lips so soft on his own delicate ones.

"Erik?"

"yeah" mumbled Erik his lips still in contact with his boyfriend's neck.

"when will we take out relationship beyond being just boyfriends?"

"I don't know, what do you want it to be?"

"nothing special, just that I was wondering when will you marry me?"

"yeah easy now, we are just getting started.. soon okay, soon" he gentle reminded him before getting up and pulling Charles into other keep kiss and after pulling apart they leaned together before Erik took his camera in his hand and waved it at Charles' face.

"let's remember this moment"

"we shall"

so they got in comfortable positions and with one hand outstretched Erik and Charles smiled at the camera and it went off with a flash.

When they were finally home Charles and Erik did their daily routine as normal and as Charles claimed to bed and fell asleep Erik had taken out the development photograph from the desk drawer, grabbing a pen with him. he wrote quickly on the back making sure that it was good enough and once checked more than enough times he checked again and realised the stupidity of it and disguarded it putting it back in the drawer with the pen. he got under the covers and kissed Charles on his warm cheeks.

"love you"

"love you too" mumbled Charles as both went to sleep.

Time waits for no one and but time was the only one that kept Erik from going insane.The hours flew by and non of them has said a word; Trask drove and drove but their destination was far from near as they pasted town after town. The drove for miles until Erik finally broke the silence.

"you better be going the right way or else.."

"we are doing the right way" backchatted Trask his eyes on the road. Erik never removed his gun away from his head wanting to just make sure. Wade and Logan looked at each other run the eye and tried to process the mission in their thoughts but things were jumbled in the mess that they called their minds.

"Erik, you don't have to..."

"have to what Logan?, don't have to kill him for Charles becuase I will. I will kill this dick if I have to, for him, anything for him" cried Erik his hand shaking. He doesn't want to kill anyone but he was filled with rage and whatever Charles thought of him he buried it years ago. he will capable of murder if it means to save a life.

Charles awoke with the chins undone and the gag removed. He moved gentle and when he gotten used to the light he carefully examined his bruises and they were bright red, the purples and greens seeping through. He groaned and screamed a little and when he rested his head on the pillow to ease the pain his felt something under it. A photograph. He took it out and looked at the photo and it was only then that he cried, the reminder of his lost love. He kissed it and let the tears drop on the glossy paper and when he turned it around he cried hard cupping his mouth with his free hand. the words captured his breath and heart as it was set free. A failed marriage proposal that Erik attempted which he discarded but for Charles this would have been better, he kissed it again kept it close to his chest allowing his beating heart to feel Erik's love.

"I want to go home to you, please save me, bring me home" whispered Charles as he looked that the photo again trying to keep his memory alive. Their memory. Suddenly the door swang open and there came a shadow and a dark shadow it was and it approached.

A lot of things happened at once, first the shadow snatched the photograph from Charles' hand, than right in front of Charles he ripped it apart as he let Charles scream in agony an finally in had his way with Charles, using him, beating him but most of all he let his watch the horror over and over again and the camera that Charles hadn't noticed rolled again and again. There was nothing Charles could do but he only wished Erik was there, he wished he was here and for once he wished Erik would kill these bastards. just this once, nothing more and nothing less as he finally closed his eyes and everything went back again.

#cherik #cherik Fanfiction #whatever it takes #taken au

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gerec · 4 years ago

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Tagged by the wonderful @turtletotem :D :D :D

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

It's Been A Long Time - 7.6k, Cherik, Call Me By Your Name AU

It's been fifteen years since Erik last saw Charles Xavier, when they fell in love over the course of one unforgettable summer. Since then their lives have gone in very different directions, though their short love affair left an indelible mark that still ties them together.

This fic and the next on the list are my favourites from this year; they’re both about ends of relationships and the highs and lows therein, though this one at least has a happy ending. IBALT is inspired entirely by the last part of the book, which hit me the hardest and I loved the most, and I was happy to translate all those emotions into a story for my favorite pairing.

An End Comes to All Good Things - 5k, Cherik, Erik/Shaw, Charles/Logan

Sometimes love isn't enough, and good relationships still end. For Erik it happens sooner than expected, when he begins an affair with his boss and mentor, Sebastian Shaw. For Charles, it happens later than it should, after a proposal that never happens.

This...I have no idea what prompted this story, though I’m really glad I wrote it, and I think it’s one of my best. It feels honest and raw to me, and almost cathartic to get down, and mature and emotional in a way I’m really proud of. It’s also maybe the only Cherik fic I’ve written where they start in a relationship and break up and don’t get back together? Definitely a first.

The Master of Charlton Park - 45k, Cherik, Charles/Steve, a/o

On the brink of losing his ancestral home, omega Charles Xavier agreed to do the unthinkable; he would sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of his family, and bear a child for a married alpha and his mate.

But Charles never expected that alpha to be Erik Lehnsherr, with whom he shared an impossible love and undeniable passion.

I tell anyone who’ll listen that I’m not usually a huge fan of regency au, so of course I have to go and write 45k of it lol (not all this year - I just finished it in 2020). It was (I thought) a sufficiently trope-y bodice ripping romance, and I’m quite happy with how it went/ended, so much thanks to darling @ikeracity for giving me the plot bunny to begin with :D

AU-gust Challenge - 27k, Cherik, various pairings

This was surprisingly tough to do, to write an au a day for the entire month but I’m so glad I stuck it out! There are a least a few ficlets that deserve a follow-up/I have more ideas to explore, and I definitely hope to get around to addressing them in 2021! My favorites of the bunch:

Soulmate AU - An old painting leads to a chance meeting with destiny. (Cherik)

Royalty AU - Charles runs from Genosha, and the possibility of happiness with the Crown Prince. (Cherik)

Space AU (Part 1) - Charles and Raven get a lucrative job offer.

Space AU (Part 2) - Erik shows up to make Charles' bad day worse. (Cherik)

Private Detective AU - PD Charles is accused of Shaw's murder. (Erik/Shaw, Cherik)

Monster Hunters AU - Logan vows to save Charles from his vampire lover. (Cherik, Xavierine)

Magic AU - Dark Mage!Erik takes Paladin!Charles prisoner. (Cherik)

you can never tell (with eyes downcast remix) - 3.4k, Charles/Kurt

Kurt lets himself get caught. Charles loses, even when he wins.

@irelise wrote such a gorgeous fic for these two that I just had to remix it, and dig further into the twisted ‘relationship’ between them. I like that the fic ends with Charles being just as messed up as he’s always been, not really having learned any lessons or resolved any issues, and possibly taking those same hangups into future affairs...

#gerec writes #gerec rambles #2020 in fic #2020 #gerec's 2020 #fic summary #cherik #xavierine #starles #i usually do a full summary of total works and words written #but honestly this is the best of the bunch here #so i'll just leave it at that

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gerec · 4 years ago

Text

AU-gust 2020 Prompts

Masterlist

23. Arranged Marriage - Charles/Shaw, Cherik

A remix of my fic Tribute to the Horde, where instead of an arranged marriage with Erik, Charles is set to marry Chieftain Shaw with Erik being one of his Generals. I’ve been inspired recently by some really great remixes of this story, and it got me thinking enough about this verse that this decided to come out lol.

(Dubcon as per the original story, though there’s nothing explicit in this ficlet sorry.)

-----

Erik is just finishing his noon meal when Shaw comes to collect him, steering them both in the direction of the Chieftain’s tent. He sets a brisk pace, ignoring various greetings and well wishes along the way, leaving Erik to acknowledge them all with a quick nod of his head. The urgency isn’t surprising, as he knows what awaits them in Shaw’s quarters; Erik just doesn’t know what he’s doing here, hours before the ceremony’s planned start.

After all, Erik - and the other Generals Azazel and Emma - have already greeted Westchester’s Prince upon his arrival to the encampment, and accorded him the full honor of a proper Genoshan welcome.

It’s more than Shaw cared to arrange for his soon-to-be mate, leaving it to his Generals to make the choice to do so – or not – on their own.

“So, what do you think of Westchester’s tribute, Erik?” Shaw asks, as they make the way up the incline, Erik following after his adoptive father into the main living area of his lodging. The prince is taking tea with Hank, and smiling a little as they converse in his native tongue, though his expression closes off the moment he and Shaw enter the room. “Is he worth as much as the Markos say? I wonder at their claim; that he remains a virgin yet, at the ripe age of seventeen. A pretty thing like him…I find it hard to believe that father and son have never had him together on his hands and knees.”

Hank flushes a deep red, coughing uncomfortably at the blatant disrespect, though Shaw merely smiles indulgently at the Prince and presses a light kiss to his hand. Quick introductions are made, which Hank translates for the two parties, no doubt ameliorating Shaw’s boorishness with pretty if meaningless words. It’s disingenuous, Erik thinks, to let the boy think Shaw is capable of decency or kindness; better to let him know Shaw as he is without any pretence from the start.

“Ask him if he’s really a virgin still,” Shaw orders, still wearing his most charming smile.

Deeply mortified, but forced to comply, Hank relays the question with a few hastily muttered words. It has an instant effect on their guest – as Shaw undoubtedly intended – with the Prince’s face turning red and thunderous as he snaps a brisk, unhappy retort.

“His Highness wants to assure you that his virginity is intact,” Hank says, “and that his people would not dishonor the treaty between Westchester and Genosha with any deceit.”

Erik scoffs. Shaw thinks very little of the treaty he signed with the Markos, viewing them merely as puppets to be threatened and kept under control. The reason the Genoshans haven’t conquered Westchester is entirely for their own benefit, and Shaw’s; because it’s much easier to demand tribute than take on the governance of an entire kingdom full of people.

“That’s good to hear,” Shaw says gleefully, even though Genoshans place no special value to a person’s virginity, unlike what he knows about Westchester tradition. Erik has lived long enough in Shaw’s shadow to know it’s purely about the man’s own pleasure and amusement; his delight in getting a mate he can mold to satisfy his every desire and whim. “You may leave us now, Hank.”

“But he doesn’t—”

Shaw cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “The Prince needs his rest now, before the ceremony begins. We won’t be needing your translation services, Hank, until tomorrow at the earliest.”

To Erik’s surprise, Hank looks ready to argue with Shaw, no doubt to advocate for the Prince and ensure his understanding of their customs. It is a kindness, he knows, that would only anger their Chieftain, and Erik shoots him a warning glare before he can make things worse for himself and for Charles.

Resigned, Hank bows his head to Shaw and says a quick farewell to Charles before exiting the tent.

“Now, let us take a better look at our prize, shall we dear boy? A preview of what the evening will bring?”

“I don’t think—”

Ignoring him, Shaw takes the Prince by the elbow, and gently but firmly pushes him beyond the tent flap and into the inner bed chamber. Startled, and clearly a little frightened of being alone with two alphas, Charles follows only reluctantly as he’s guided to a spot beside Shaw’s fur covered bed.

“You are very beautiful,” the Chieftain murmurs, brushing his hand against the Prince’s cheek, making him blush as he leans close and inhales the sweet omega scent. “I wonder…will you cry the first time I knot you, pretty one? Or will you beg me to fuck you harder with those red, red lips?”

Though he can’t understand a word being said, Shaw’s intent is abundantly clear, and yet Charles doesn’t flinch or try to pull away from his grasp. Instead he takes a deep breath and steels himself, his expression a mixture of resignation and defiance, and Erik can’t help but agree with Shaw that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than Westchester’s tribute to the Horde.

And when Shaw reaches for Charles’ collar, and rips the whisper thin robe clean off his body, Erik finds that he cannot stop staring; cannot stop devouring all that silky flesh and longing to run his fingers along every inch of smooth, unblemished skin.

He does not have to be told, to use his powers and remove the hideous chastity belt, and then sliding the plug out of him with a soft, wet schlick.

Charles opens his mouth a little and shudders, but remains standing dutifully in place.

“Come now, my boy,” Shaw cajoles, as he runs his hand slowly down the curve of Charles’ back to the slope of his buttocks, pinching and prodding and making him gasp. “By tradition, the princeling will be my mate yes. But I am quite happy to share with you, and the others, so we may all enjoy this endless bounty.”

“You would let us…beyond the ceremony? But the people—”

“What will the people care,” Shaw scoffs, as he rubs a finger along the rim of Charles’ entrance, making him whimper when he slots the entire length in, “as long as the Bearer gives us plentiful heirs? He’s an omega, Erik, made for pleasure and for breeding. It would be a waste not to share him with the most trusted of my clan.”

To bribe them, his Generals, and keep them in line, though Erik can’t deny that the Prince is a very tempting and generous incentive.

“We must do this properly, and wait for the bonding ceremony,” he hears himself say. “I won’t dishonor his place amongst our people by denying him a public mounting.”

Shaw grins, as he tugs Charles down and onto the furs, soothing him with light touches and a tender kiss on the brow. “Yes, we will wait to mount him properly at the feast, as is his right. But there are other things we can do now, my boy, to make his first time that much easier…for his sake.”

Looking down at the omega spread before him like a feast, Erik can only nod, and push his own finger in to join Shaw’s inside that delectably tight passage. “For his sake, yes, we should help as much as we can.”

#gerec writes #cherik #charles/shaw #arranged marriage au #day 23 #au-gust 2020 #august writing challenge #tribute to the horde au

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earnestly-endlessly · 5 years ago

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what about your favourite cherik fics of all time? (:

Dear anon, I am so sorry for the delay. I’ve been meaning to put this list for about a week now, but I feel as if I’m missing some fics. Most of these are fandom favourites and might not come as any surprise, but these are my all time favourite fics that I’ve probably read more than once and more than twice. I tried to keep a wide variety of fics, including both one-shots and multi-chapters as well as different genres. I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do.

Earnestly-endlessly’s Favourite Cherik Fics

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Anarchy in the U.K. – Yahtzee

Summary: “Good God, Erik thought. The Prince of Wales is gay.”

Charles lives in the unceasing glare of the public spotlight, yet keeps his sexual orientation a closely held secret, afraid he could lose his throne and force his deeply troubled younger sister into a role that would crush her. Erik, journalist and world traveler, has been a loner most of his life; he has little patience for closet cases. But a chance meeting in Kenya brings these two opposites together and sets in motion a love affair that will challenge the British monarchy – and their most deeply held beliefs about who they are, and who they should be.

Continuing Education – aesc and spicedpiano

Summary: To his students, Erik Lehnsherr is despotic and terrifying. To his department head, he’s the brilliant young researcher who abandoned his prestigious job overnight, moving across the country to join MIT’s faculty. But to Charles Xavier, he is a contradiction. As Erik and Charles settle into their new roles as colleagues, their professional rivalry starts to spill over into the personal.

The Sonnet Series – afrocurl, nekosmuse

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It’s really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It’s also too bad Erik doesn’t seem to know how to use Google.

Bifurcation – spicedpiano

Summary: Bifurcation - (n.) the splitting of a main body into two parts.

In medicine, a single mistake can mean the difference between life and death.

For cardiothoracic surgeon Charles Xavier, a fatal error leaves him standing at a crossroads … and at the mercy of the man he has not faced since their relationship fell apart thirteen months ago.

Dr. Erik Lehnsherr has a fearsome reputation. Due to his incisive autopsy reports, he has gotten more surgeons fired in two years than any other pathologist has managed over an entire career. But when an old enemy returns to Erik’s life, he must find a way to temper his pride – or lose the man he loves, all over again.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibrisuchan)

Summary: In which mpreg!Charles Bakes All The Things, overprotective!Erik calls his small round tea-drinking husband “Vati’s little teapot”, Tony Stark/Bad Ideas is Stark Industries’ most profitable OTP, and Alex and Steve are somehow along for the ride. And the cookies.

For the Record – endingthemes

Summary: As prominent figures in the mutant rights movement, activists Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are pretty much household names. When a romance scandal between them breaks, their celebrity reaches new heights, and though the increased exposure is great, there’s a big problem – the two of them are just friends.

Too bad no one believes them.

Rumor Mill – Ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends. So it’s obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he’s bringing his husband. There’s rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik’s husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren’t expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik’s arm. What they certainly weren’t expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Into Your Tar, Honey – tomato_greens

Summary: Really, Alex doesn’t know why he’s in the damn class. (Or, the one in which Charles teaches an online Introduction to Biology course, and Alex reads more than he expected to.)

If You Like The Book, You’ll Hate the Movie – paperclipbitch

Summary: Modern-Day High School AU. It’s not until Hank realises half the class are glancing towards the back of the classroom with something like nerves and something like schadenfreude that he finds out Alex Summers is back.

The boy with the heart on his sleeve – euphorbic

Summary: Charles loses a high-stakes bet to Raven and is required to get a tattoo. However, when he makes a disparaging remark about the art form, Raven’s acerbic mentor, Erik, steps in.

Or, the one where Erik and Raven are tattoo artists.

Enigma – Yahtzee

Summary: Written for the following prompt: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it’s before he ever met Charles - in fact, it’s before his mother died.

He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn’t go wrong)?

Mutually Beneficial Transaction – Pookaseraph

Summary: In his sophomore year at Columbia University, Erik, feeling slowly strangled by his mounting college debt, places an add on a sugar daddies website. He doesn’t know exactly what to expect from it, but when he’s contacted by a man named Charles who seems less creepy than the other people who have responded to his profile, he decides to give it a shot. Charles is nothing like what he expected, and Erik finds himself slowly falling in love with his sugar daddy while trying to find out exactly what caused this amazing guy to buy his emotional and sexual intimacy when he clearly deserves so much more than that.

Food, Family, and Friends with Benefits – endingthemes

Summary: “Everyone,” Edie says, voice bursting with pride. “Erik’s here, and he’s brought his friend.” She takes Charles’ arm and pulls him forward, presenting him like a shiny object. “This is Charles.”

Charles manages a weak wave and an even weaker, “Hello.”

(In which Charles gets dragged along to his fuck buddy’s parent’s house to celebrate a Jewish holiday, and things get weird.)

In Plain Sight – arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: A story where Charles and Erik have basically been together from the first time they met. The whole fate, wow we found each other thing. Now I would like the others not to know and try to bring the two 'oblivious' guys together. They of course enjoy this quite a lot

Limited Release – rageprufrock

Summary: When Alex Summers broke out of supermax to rescue his stupid kid brother, he had no idea it was going to be so fucking complicated.

Daycare Verse – brilligspoons, pocky_slash

Summary: A modern AU in which Charles runs a mutant daycare and Erik is his long-suffering engineer boyfriend.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster". Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Chessmen (XMFC/Inception fusion AU) – kaydeefalls

Boden’s Mate: “Shaw has information that we need, and we need him alive to extract it,” Moira says, and there it is: the job is on the table. Extraction.

XMFC/Inception fusion AU. Erik is an extractor, Alex is his point man. They’re assembling a team to go after the most dangerous mind in dreamsharing: Sebastian Shaw. But unless Alex and the team can keep him in check, Erik’s desire for vengeance might just rip the whole job apart around them – and then there’s the shade that haunts his dreams…

Queen’s Gambit: “My name is Nick Fury,” he tells Raven. “And I’m here to talk to you about Cain Marko.”

XMFC/Inception fusion, sequel to Boden’s Mate. Raven’s running her own extractions these days, but the job S.H.I.E.L.D.’s dumped in her lap is a real shitshow. Two marks, two simultaneous dreams, eleven dreamers, and a hell of a lot of baggage. Time to call in a few favors – and did she mention the job involves inception?

Tabula Rasa – kaydeefalls

Summary: Five ways Erik might have first met Charles.

Humane Society – smilebackwards

Summary: Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he’s Charles’ cat and not his boyfriend.

Idiot Control Now – cygnaut

Summary: Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone’s powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it.

White Nights – spicedpiano, tahariel

Summary: Duke Erik Lehnsherr of Ironhold needs an omega to carry on his line, and Earl Charles Xavier of Westchester needs an alpha to give him the political leverage he needs in order to make his sister Queen. An arranged marriage brings them together, but Erik’s lust for war and Charles’ hidden agenda threaten to tear them apart. In the frozen Northlands of Ironhold life is hard and cold, and both Charles and Erik must give up their pretense and see each other as they really are: perfect for each other, if only they’ll acknowledge it.

Nation Building and other Diplomatic Negotiations – Pookaseraph

Summary: With the recent passage of a submissive registration law in the United Kingdom, there are now only two industrialized nation with a relatively stable government to have neither a mutant nor a submissive registration law. Erik Lehnsherr, the newly minted King of Genosha, and his Prime Minister Emma Frost intend to take advantage of this turn of events to bring the Xavier Institute to the island nation of Genosha. They both know bringing Charles Xavier, the noted activist of mutant and submissive rights, to the island will necessarily politicize the man, and create all manner of complications. With a constitution not yet finalized and external threats to Genoshan security all around them, Erik, Emma, and Charles will fight for what they believe in to shape Genosha into what it should be.

A Genosha AU with moderate D/s elements.

Politico – cygnaut

Summary: Modern Genosha Politics AU. In which Erik is l'enfant terrible of the mutant National Assembly, and his staff just wants to get him laid.

The Courtship – dvs

Summary: A story about a courtship that began five hundred years ago.

This Family comes with Batteries – Fishwrites, lynneh

Summary: A orphaned Charles Xavier goes to live with his Godfather: Tony Stark. This story is a tale of what would have happened to the events of MCU, if Tony was raising a six year old telepath in Stark Tower. There is also the matter of Charles’ robot AI manny/bodyguard/tutor/only-friend, David.

Space Oddity – MonstrousRegiment, Pangea

Space Jam: Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they’ve been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It’s alright, though, he’ll cope.

It doesn’t help, though, that he’s in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr.

Jupiter Jazz: Prince Charles Xavier is still Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and life has been great ever since he and his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr, finally got all of their feelings out on the table. Better than great, really.

It doesn’t help, though, that the Nyrulians are a bit sore over him blowing up their ship, and a war is brewing. And because Charles has that kind of luck, they’re in the middle of it.

I have loved the stars too fondly: Erik and Charles, directly after the events of Jupiter Jazz.Nothing will ever be the same.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he’s settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.

Tough little baby telepath – aesc, pearl_o

Summary: Teenage telepath Charles Xavier takes a job as a consultant, working with prickly police detective Erik Lehnsherr. Charles is used to being on his own and taking care of himself; he has no reason to think that his relationship with this stern, icy man is going to change any of that.

An absence which could not be more there – aesc

Summary: He prepared to shift another half-step over to the Current Events section (which would, of course, enrage him) when the teaser positioned by the model’s left elbow caught his eye: DATING WHILE TELEPATHIC: WHY I DON’T DO IT.

Backseat ‘verse´ – tahariel

Summary: “Charles has a very sweet nature,” Raven is saying, her hand falling to the back of his head and stroking his hair very gently, carelessly affectionate. “He doesn’t need someone to force him down, he’s very happy to go there himself. If Erik is the sort to need a fight, then there’s no way I could let him have my brother.”

Simple and Uncomplicated – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik and Charles had been fuck buddies for some, but when Charles is in an accident he figured their relationship would be over. Erik’s visit to his bedside in the hospital changes his assumptions even as he has trouble believing Erik is sincere.

Made To Be Broken – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles makes a New Year’s Resolution: “No more straight men,” Charles repeated as he began scrolling through the apartment directory for Emma’s name. “No more futility. No more pointless hoping and heartbreak. In 2013, I never want to hear the words ‘exception,’ ‘experimenting’ or ‘phase.’ If, God forbid, I hear ‘bicurious’ even once, I may take a hostage.” Then he goes into the party, and Erik is there.

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him. For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

The Trouble With Telepaths – endingthemes

Summary: “Are you shy about me meeting your family?” Erik asks with a huge smile. “Are you kidding me?”“It’s not funny,” Charles says, his hands firmly planted on his hips, and it’s honestly hilarious so Erik laughs right in his face.(Or a Star Trek AU in which Captain Erik Lehnsherr pays a visit to First Officer Charles Xavier's home planet and encounters a few surprises.)

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

The Mutant Games – TurtleTotem

Summary: "You'll be fine, darling," Charles murmured, half-asleep, into golden hair as Raven crawled sniffling into his bed. "Your name's only in there once, Raven. They're not going to pick you." (Hunger Games AU)

City by the sea – Black_Betty

Summary: It never bothered Charles that he essentially belonged to someone else from birth. Ever since he could remember he had been told stories about the mysterious prince who was his betrothed, and who one day would be called husband. As he grew older, Charles caught his thoughts drifting away from lessons under strict tutors, his mind slipping into the hazy daydream of his life yet to come…

In Shadow and in Silence – Yahtzee

Summary: Written for the following prompt: Erik is an aggressive, dangerous, cynical mutant, hardened from years of being passed through private laboratories and used for experimentation. He’s covered in surgical scars from operations, tattooed and bar coded like a lab rat, and blind from an experiment done on his eyes. … Charles Xavier finds out about him. Charles runs a sort of sanctuary for mutants that provides lost, abandoned, abused, runaway mutants with shelter, comfort, and help with ability control. He thinks he can rehabilitate Erik and save him from execution, and convinces the government that he can.

When Erik arrives, he is a lot worse than Charles thought he would be … Everyone else can see that Erik is a nuclear bomb waiting to go off, but Charles refuses to give up on him. …

The first time Charles sneaks up on him wearing no metal, it triggers him and he reacts instinctively, with violence. … Erik discovers why Charles understands him so well: he was once used in experiments as well, experiments run by his own family, and in one of them, he lost his voice, so he uses his telepathy to communicate.

Blind Erik, mute Charles, the love.

Everyday Love in Stockholm – tahariel

Summary: Prompt: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world. His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he’s kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life’s work and happiness.

The Tower and the Hurricane – dreamlittleyo

Summary: (Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?

Honest Bone and Burning Thought – Black_Betty

Summary: And so sometimes, his mind buzzing away, bright and brilliant and humming with pure expansive energy, Charles speaks without thinking at all. Without censoring himself. Without realizing that his brain has reached out and snatched something that was never his to know, or take…

The Attempt – Yahtzee

Summary: Written for the following prompt: Charles knows everything about Erik, knows how obsessive and self-destructive he is, how Erik would do anything, give anything, in his quest for vengeance against Shaw. But he also knows that Erik loves him in ways that aren't exactly platonic. I'd like to see a completely straight!Charles, out of pure love and care of Erik, initiate a romantic relationship with him. It can be because he wishes to give Erik something positive in his life or because he thinks it might help change Erik's mind about Shaw, the reason is up to author. Also, while Charles finds intimacy with Erik strange and awkward, he does enjoy the new, non-romantic layers that have developed in their relationship.

#favourite cherik fics #fic recs #cherik fic recs #long post #I can't seem to make short lists #eh sorry about that #asks #cherik

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oncerpotter2018 · 7 years ago

Text

Time Will Set Us Free: A Cherik Fanfic

Dedicated to @the-charles-to-my-erik

Chapter 12

As Charles woke up he had found his bedside empty. Erik must have gone to work, Charles thought as he yawned and stretched his arms and legs, swinging his legs over the bed. He walked down stairs to find a note on the kitchen counter, the message was written as though in a rush and assumed that Erik was running late for work again. Charles took the note and read it out loud, loud enough for his voice echoed around the empty home.

Dear Charles,

I’ve gone off to work so I’ve cooked you breakfast. I hope you like it and I know I have left without saying good morning but I hope you understand. I love you Charles, please forgive me for without saying goodbye. I still love you Charles.

Erik

Charles smiled, tears slightly running down his face as he put the note down in his pocket. He walked over to the kitchen table and was at awe at the display of food on the table. Charles ate with a smile as he thought of Erik all day and in a few occasions Charles would take his fingers up to his temple and send messages to Erik telepathically. He loved it when Erik replied.

Throughout the day Charles cleaned and slept thinking of nothing but Erik as he was either in the shower or in the garden. Nothing could replace Charles’ thoughts of Erik for he was the best thing he has ever had to be with, he wouldn’t love anyone else. “I wish you were here now” said Charles as he ate lunch by himself in the empty home he shared. As he ate the sound of the doorbell rang an with quick intensions Charles carefully placed back his spoon and fork at the table and quickly ran towards the door. He opened it was quick moments.

Charles swung the door open reviling a man who was very rounded and had been wearing a suit to small for his size. He was wider and taller than Charles so it was hard to see his features without looking up to far. “May I help you?” Asked Charles politely asking not to many details about what business he had at this time. The man didn’t speak at first but simply lingered around his head turning until he saw Charles in not of him. “Oh… Do you know of a man named Erik Lehnsherr?” He said, his voice deep. At first Charles was confused, why was this man looking for Erik. “Um… Yes, he’s my partner, why are you looking for him?” Asked Charles with caution, his grip tightening at the door way. “Well, Mr…” “ Xavier, Charles Xavier” “Well Mr Xavier, I’m his business partner. He’s payment to our company is late, he owes Shaw Industries at least over 10,000 million dollars. If he doesn’t pay within a week he will lose his position, possibly his job” the man said, his beefy hand on a piece of envelop.

Reality came to soon, Charles felt sick inside for this can’t be true, it can’t be true. Erik was a good man, he had a steady job, a business man at his workplace, he can’t possibly be in so much debt. Charles shook his head at the thought. “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken” called out Charles but the man in front of him just nodded his head telling Charles that what he said was true. All of it was true. “I’m sorry, but Mr Shaw wants all the money that Mr Lehnsherr owes him” he said as he handed Charles the envelope. Charles took it from his hand and looked at the name of Erik’s on the front. “But we were going to get married” said Charles but he wasn’t soft enough for the man than said: “You should’ve thought about that before you made that promise” he said as he walked off and made his way back to his car.

Charles closed the door the envelope still in hand. He leaned against the door his hands trembling but he collected his courage and taken away his fears as he ripped open the envelope. There was a letter inside with neat handwriting, a logo appeared on the right hand corner of the paper which underneath read: ‘Shaw Industries’

Dear Mr Lehnsherr,

Your payment is overdue, you have a within a week to pay what you owe Mr Shaw. He wants all of the 10,000 million dollars by his desk by three o'clock next Friday, if you fail to deliver the money by that deadline you leave us no choice but to fire you from you job or face greater consequences. Consider this is a fair warning Mr Lehnsherr.

Sincerely Martin Peters Head Manager

Charles had to catch his breath, his breathing hitched a bit as he began to slide down against the door frame and down to the floor. Charles gripped the letter in his hand and before he knew it tears began to roll down his eyes. He felt betrayed and broken as he pulled his knees up to his chest and his head bury themselves on top of them; each minute felt like hours and Charles knew what to do by that point. Once Erik comes home he’ll confront him, to discuss what will they do and what he will do next, Charles was promised a good life and a good one but with this upon everything else going on Charles didn’t know what to do.

For the next few minutes Charles just sat there, his knees to his chest and head down upon them. Soon he lifted his head, wiped away the tears and walked over to the mantelpiece where their photos incased in their frames lived. He scanned each photo letting his fingers brush over the frames as he passed. Each photo was a reminder what they were meant to be and yet that maybe may not be always so happy; Charles let a solo tear down his eyes as he stopped at one photo on the mantelpiece. “Why did you have to be this way?” Asked Charles to himself as he took the frame and stared at it longer.

In the frame was the photo of Erik and him on their Spring break. They were on a beach again as they kissed by the ocean as the sun behind settled down as Raven took the photo. Charles pulled it close to his chest as he cried much harder than the last time, as after a while Charles sat by the stairs as he took his phone from his pocket to fine three missed calls and ten missed messages all from Erik. Just than his phone rings again and it was Erik again, Charles wanted to answer it but he couldn’t let his heart be broken again. He declined the call.

It slowly entered to nine o'clock at night before Charles heard the door open. There entered Erik, his eyes droopy and his body language weak and sloppy. “Erik?” Said Charles as he walked a few steps down the stairs, the letter still on one hand and the photo on the other. Erik looked up and tried to smile but it was too much effort and besides it was late he just wanted to go to bed. “Erik… Erik! We need to talk” “Charles, it’s late let’s just go to bed” slurred Erik. “No Erik, we need to talk. We need to talk about this” Charles replied back as he shoved the letter towards Erik’s chest pushing harder so that Erik nearly fell back a bit.

Erik looked down at his chest to see the letter in his hands. Erik took it in his own hands from Charles and neatly unfolded it and read it. Once he was finished Erik looked up at Charles, his eyes widen and tears began to roll down his tiered face. “Charles please, I can explain…” “There is nothing to explain Erik… Gosh I trusted you, we were going to get married and this is what you do…” “ Charles please… I love you..” Cried Erik as he tried to cling onto Charles’ arm but he just pushed Erik away, away from him and away from his life. “No Erik, you can’t do that anymore. I’m tired of your lies and untold secrets… And Shaw, really? I thought you hated Shaw, I thought you were better than that” cried Charles, folding his arms his back against his lover.

Erik wanted to bring Charles back to him, to hold him close. “Please, please Charles, I do hate Shaw but you don’t understand..” Pleaded Erik, his knees buckling under his own weight. Dropped to his knees ad his head on his hands. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable. Not like this, not after his mother died. Charles turned around and wanted to hold Erik close but he’s down more then enough to not deserve his love. Not any more. “I want you out of here by tomorrow morning… I’ll tell Raven the wedding is off” cried Charles as he held the photo in his hands as he went back up stairs. “You can sleep on the sofa for tonight, I’ll yet you pack tonight and then tomorrow I want you gone” Charles said, in his mind to project a telepathic message to Erik. Erik could still hear his tears and his heart ache as he too began to began to cry again.

Erik did what had been told and to a bag and took all he has, he glanced at Charles one last time and for one last time he walked away. He’ll say goodbye tomorrow. But will tomorrow even come for Charles and him seemed to far apart, to distanced to see the day lights tomorrow. “Goodbye old friend”

#cherik #cherik fanfiction #time will set us free

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