canonverse

Get your artworks, writings, gifsets and edits ready, there’s only one week left ‘til our second Ereri Week event: Canonverse week!! The event starts September 7th and ends September 13th.

Please check the rules section and don’t forget the prompts page as well. Send us an ask in case of any doubts.

Also, an important reminder: don’t forget to tag #ereriweek in the first five tags of your post, otherwise tumblr won’t show it.

Let’s have fun!

anonymous asked:

I read some of your jealousy fanfics recommendation and It really picked my interest. Thanks for doing that~ I have a request nicotachi-sama, can you also please recommend some LL AUs, where almost everything is literally changed. I'm really craving for more of it.

squints w-when did i become a fic librarian. jk i don’t mind it at all

99% of these are nicomaki fics, so beware (although i’m not sure why anyone would follow me if they didn’t like nicomaki but–) there’s quite a lot of ‘au’ fics, so i’m going going to list stuff i’ve favorited:

realistic au’s that are still not canonverse

fantastical au’s

remember to kudos/review/fave/follow if you enjoyed any of these stories!

Mirror Image

“So, what do you see?” Levi asked, resting his forehead on the back of Eren’s shoulder and nudging gently with his chin. 

Eren let out a huff of air. “This is stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Levi responded.  He ran his hands up Eren’s bare sides, soft and slow.  “You’re not looking.”

“There isn’t anything to see,” Eren said, and Levi could feel his body tense beneath his fingertips. “Nothing has changed.  Nothing will ever change.”

Levi studied Eren’s form in the mirror.  He was tall, growing taller each day, and Levi feared he’d be Erwin’s height before summer’s end.  He looked on the scrawny side with lanky limbs that hung around his body at awkward angles.  

But strength, raw and a little frightening, radiated from just beneath his perfect skin, and though no scars marred his body, Levi knew the shape and weight of the wounds Eren carried.  

“That’s not true,” Levi murmured near Eren’s ear.  “Now look.”    

Levi coaxed Eren’s face up with his fingers, so that his eyes met Eren’s in the mirror. If Eren’s body betrayed none of his battles, then his eyes held no secrets, two jade stones that could burn a hole through anything.    

Levi continued to cup Eren’s face, his thumb drifting lightly over the skin of his cheek.  “Look.”

When Eren did, when his eyes traced the lines of his body through the mirror, his fists clenched at his sides.  “Monster.”

It hurt, the way Eren’s voice sounded so resigned and hopeless. Levi placed a kiss on his shoulder, just a brush of skin against skin.  

“So?” Levi asked. “You’re a monster.  So what?”

“What?” Eren was frowning and biting his lip. 

“We’re all monsters in this world.”  Levi moved his hand up his stomach until his spread palm was resting on Eren’s chest. “The people out there, the Titans, everyone. Even me.”  

“No,” Eren whispered, twining his fingers with Levi’s, so that both of their hands were resting over his heart.  “Not you.”

Their gazes lingered for a long while, grey and green, watching the way their hands fit together over the slow rise and fall of Eren’s chest.

The Middle Act

Part 2/3: Out on a hunt, Cas and Dean end up having to share a single bed for the night, neither one content to let the other sleep on the floor.

Part 1/3: How It Started – Read Here

Part 3/3: Not Really The End - Read Here

Happy Easter gift, have some M rated fluff and sexual content.


What woke Dean the following morning renewed his nerves within the span of a single second. It didn’t register at first, what was happening. One second he’d been warm and comfortable, mouth hanging open against Cas’s shirt, and the next he’d been cold and exposed. Cas had gotten up, and Dean’s eyes had fluttered open as soon as the bathroom door had closed.

Surging up in bed, he huffed a heavy breath, the morning sky outside cloudy and leaving their hotel room dimmed. Blinking, Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes, his legs still tangled in the blankets as he tried to re-establish what had happened.

Cas had climbed into bed with him, and then they’d cuddled. At Dean’s volition. All. Night. Long. Dean, who didn’t usually like cuddling. Who only ever did it when someone else initiated it.

What did that mean? Should he say something about it? What should he say?

Before he could even narrow himself down to a point however, Cas was coming back out, blue meeting wide, scared, shocked green before Dean was ready.

Cas paused, looking him up and down before speaking. “Good morning, Dean,” was all he said, Dean’s focus darting down to the dark wet spot on Cas’s gray shirt. Because, oh God, he’d drooled on him.

“Uh…” Dean felt that his voice hardly existed in that moment.

“It’s nearly eight-thirty,” Cas continued on easily. “If you’re awake, then we should go get breakfast. I’m hungry.” Because Cas was always hungry.

“Ah…” Dean blinked. “S-sure, I guess…”

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Imagine Anna seeing her parents again, running to them and hugging them and looking at their smiling faces, realizing that despite their smiles they seem so sad, realizing that she doesn’t know where she is or how she got there. Suddenly feeling so cold after a brief moment of feeling nothing at all, and her eyes blinded by a bright light, then once again there are arms around her, and she looks down to see her sister Elsa sobbing her name.

Possession

Dean accidentally gives away his feelings for Cas and has to be pursued through the bunker and brought back from his self-hating insecurities.


“Because he’s in love with you,” Sam had said, smirking at his snide joke. That was how it had all started – how Dean had fumbled to make-up for the remark (not having expected it to come from his brother), and had tripped over his words until he’d accidentally said something along the lines of “well, yeah, but…” before awkwardly laughing. It’d all happened so fast, and they’d been on a case, and Cas had been standing there. And he’d said “I know,” with such certainty in that deep, gravelly voice. The people they’d been speaking to had laughed, and they’d laughed, and Cas had furrowed his brows. Because he wasn’t stupid and could tell when the two brothers were forcing it. The sweat that had beaded on Dean’s forehead had probably spelled it out pretty well too.

And now it was out there. It was all out there and Dean didn’t know how to take it back. And Cas had said “I know.”

He didn’t like that he had feelings for Cas – was attracted to him. He’d come to terms with it, but this new development brought all the terrible back into his mind’s eye. Because it was so heavy, and full, and bloated, and Dean hated himself so much. And felt guilty about it, like it was some terrible, horrible thing that was his fault, even though Cas knew he couldn’t do anything about it. And he was ashamed that Cas had figured it out – found out – like it was wrong that Dean’s admiration be known to the one it was for.

Like his feelings were disgusting. To everyone.

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“You’re so beautiful.”

Dean blushes in the dark, snorting despite the fact that he pulls Cas closer, nuzzling his warm face in the crook of the other’s neck. “You can’t even see me, dork.”

Around them, flowers and reeds sway lazily in the midnight breeze, greenery moving in time with shooting stars overhead. The grassy cliff is so high it looks like they’re sitting in the sky, and Cas buries a hand in moonlit hair, smiling as he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head. “I don’t need to.” He then playfully pinches Dean’s side, lessening the blow of the compliment. “Dork.”

Dean holds tighter to his lover, brushing a kiss to his skin. He grins widely. “Nerd.”

“Geek.”

“Weirdo.”

“Gorgeous.”

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5

This is the first thing that I thought of when I saw this post on tumblr.
“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”
I hope this is somewhat comprehensible even though there are no dialogues. And I know it’s super-sad, but I HAD to get it out of my system.
Don’t kill me, plz, I’m already sobbing because I’m a damn masochist T____T

Not Really The End

Part 3/3: Out on a hunt, Cas and Dean end up having to share a single bed for the night, neither one content to let the other sleep on the floor.

Happy Easter gift, have some M rated fluff and sexual content.

Part 1/3: How It Started - Read Here 

Part 2/3: The Middle Act - Read Here


No, Dean wasn’t sure he was ever going to recover enough to know how to deal with this situation. Mostly because he wasn’t even sure how to comprehend it in the first place. But there was no denying it – Cas was still lying on top of him, bodies still pressed together, pants still down around their knees and thighs. The stickiness between them weighed on Dean far more than it should, and Cas’s breath on his ear was near enough to get him going all over again.

But the twisting apprehension in the pit of his stomach was catching any blood that wanted to find its way between his legs.

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be so worried. Cas had come on to him, kind of, and, well, they’d both participated, in any case. They should be able to handle this like adults.

Because they’d done such a bang-up job of such up till then, Dean’s gaze flicking around the dim hotel room only quickly.

Outside, the storm still circled, though not with quite the severity it had during the night. Still, the warning was there – stay inside – and Dean tried not to feel trapped for it. There was no way they were going to be able to start their investigation until it died down more, which meant their was nothing to distract from what they’d done.

But maybe that was better. Maybe that was necessary.

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Atlas

A belated birthday gift for my precious momoicchi27 – thank you for always inspiring me and indulging my Lana Del Rey (and other) obsessions!  

Inspired by the new LDR single “Honeymoon,” which speaks so deeply of specific king of pining that my bones ache.

—-

Levi looks in the mirror. Really looks.

The first word he thinks is old. And it’s true; five years have passed like a drop of rain, almost painful in its swiftness and just as elusive.

And with it, the red hatefulness of loss. Violence and desperation push against him from all sides, and he feels wall after wall spring up at every turn.  

So much has changed, and yet nothing at all.

Levi spares only a fleeting glance at his face, so expressionless and lonely that even he can’t begin to decipher the emotion that’s trying to burn through the steel of his eyes.  

Maybe there is a soft hue of grey hairs framing his temples. Maybe his slight frame is still full of sharp angles and thick, sinewy muscle. Maybe the marks of his servitude are still seared into his skin like constant reminders of a promise he can’t remember making.

It remains unfulfilled. He feels its weight, heavy and sharp, filling the spaces between his ribs.

Weakness. 

His skin is as pale and fragile looking as ever, scraped up and scarred. But…

There is nothing strong about the way Levi’s hands tremble as he traces the fresh marks on his skin, violet and dark blue.

Where Eren has left his marks, like Levi is his favorite manuscript and he’s plotted all his favorite spots to revisit, again and again. He’s left a pattern, and Levi traces it carefully with his fingertip, as if he could read the meaning in the small act of chaotic violence.  

There’s a noise behind him and suddenly tan fingers are lacing with his own, and he can see Eren’s face in the mirror, cradled in the space between his neck and shoulder.

“What are you doing up?” Levi asks, watching the way Eren’s hands begin to roam over his chest with such familiarity it almost hurts.

“I had another dream.” Levi can see from the murky green of his eyes that he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Eren’s fingers press into the bruises at his hip, blooming up like violets that smell of Eren’s lips.  

He’d tried to stop this thing from happening, but they had found a kindred hopefulness in their feral wanting, bound so closely by the weight of unspoken vows. 

“Do you want me to read to you?” Sometimes the sound of Levi’s voice helps Eren come back from the dark places.

Eren stops stroking Levi’s skin to rest his chin on his shoulder. There is an eerie kind of stillness to Eren’s movements that speak so deeply of his desperation, like he wants to breath himself into Levi’s lungs. 

“I’m not afraid,” Eren murmurs, and they both feel the words pull and push, like a shared tide lapping between two shorelines.

The way the words vibrate against his skin and soak into his bones.

Thrilling.

It’s the last word Levi thinks before Eren twists him around, claiming his lips in a feverish kiss.

Rhythm

Eren had learned from a young age that there was rhythm everywhere. 

His mother taught him that first when she showed him how to dance. He had been very young and his mother had been swaying to her favourite tune she always liked to sing while folding the laundry one day. Eren had been curious and asked what she was doing and she had smiled at him, taking him in her arms. She had put his tiny feet on hers and spun them around, slowly at first to show him how the dance worked, and then faster later, just to hear his squeals of excitement. When he had tried doing the steps on the floor there had been laughter as they stumbled and stepped on each other’s toes, but there had been no pain, just happiness.

He had felt it for the first time then, the rhythm, felt it in the sway of their bodies and the disruption to it in their stumbles when they made mistakes in the steps.

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[Fic] 森男 Forest Boy

Rating: M
Tags: Post-Canon, Masturbation, Outdoor Sex, Self-Indulgent Porn, Implied M/M relationship, Eren-centric

Eren loves the outdoors, but he does not quite remember when he developed this habit. There is something wonderful about touching himself out in the open like this that really gets him off.

A/N: This is a post-canonverse story, supposedly after they have defeated all the Titans. Eren is older, somewhere in his twenties. Really, this is just self-indulgent trash with lots of Eren love and appreciation. ;)

Read below or on Ao3

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