āIf the story begins with the lack of a child, then hunger becomes central. Food often replaces sex in folktales, and witches with some rule-bound delicacy are the fertility specialists of choice, second only to daring the fairies to give you a baby hedgehog, a snow-child, or an infant the size of your thumb. The trouble starts when a childless queen is given specific instructionsā eat the white rose for a boy or the red rose for a girl, but not both. Eat the fair flower and not the bitter, black one. Peel both onions before you eat them. Folklorists would group all of these motifs under the number āT511ā conception from eating,ā with increasingly specific Dewey-Decimal-style numbers for conception from a flower or a fish, from swallowing a pearl or a peppercorn. Inevitably, the queen fails the interdiction, because she forgets the warning, or because the first thing she eats is so delicious she just canāt help it. Without that failure, there would be no story. Interdiction, violation: a rule is broken and the world is changed.ā
ā Hunger Is the Beginning of Every Folktale - The ToastĀ (via girlwithouthands)
Itās so easy to be swept in the bright sunlight; from the dark corner of his world, the warmth of the yellows and the light-oranges caresses his hair and wraps him in a pleasant body-warmth thatās not his own.
He is here, present, and not all at once; the term sunlight fits him like a well-worn glove. Heās something of the surreal--bright, warm, soft, like anyone would imagine--and hides the calluses and the broken skin under the too-long sleeves and soft white socks and smiling yellow slippers. Energy, unassuming and brilliant; an ebullience that reaches the smallest of corners, effortless.
(stella)
Occasionally when Ichimatsu is with him he forgets to look for the shadows under his feet; he finds himself searching for a horizon that stretches higher than he remembers. His brotherās light isnāt the sense of luminescence he finds comfort in: streets warm with a soft blue overlay, shadows stretching leisurely over nooks of a city he knows by heart.
Moonlight has a way of gently enveloping the whispers of the nightlife; hides away the pitter-patter of clumsy young feet from those that intend them harm and veils the moans of those who grieve.
Starlight is not sunlight; the light of the sun, in its radiance, reaches corners the night kindly hides away.
Itās just a different kind of warmth, he thinks.
In the pocket of his jersey he fingers the crumpled thousand-yen bill, and remembers a lemon-flavored lollipop for the way home.
Much of the premise is based on the first part; referring to the translated song lyrics in the first part will make part 2 more clear.
To sum up, this is a reincarnation au in which Eren (a relatively well-known singer) posts this video on YouTube. His lyrics drive Levi (No Name lead singer) to seek him out. A canon derivative setting in which Levi has carried out the order to complete Erenās execution and both has memories.
ereri, brief nonexplicit mentions of nsfw.Ā
Then those eyes turn back toward him and meet his own, and the corners of just barely parted lips curve upwards in something soft, malleable; and Levi aches, quietly. Heated skin and tangled limbs and heady, pulsing hearts, and he remembers the first tenderly frigid airs of spring.
I.
Neither Levi or Eren is willing to risk the unnecessary drama of sitting in a public coffee shop and being seen together, so they walk to Eren's apartment. Eren unlocks the door and lets them in; toes his shoes off and Levi follows suit. Eren leads them into the kitchen and pulls out the chair from countertop island in the middle and hesitates before asking him what he'd like to drink, his smile a little awkward.
Tea, Levi says, a little dully.
Eren's expression seems to soften, then. He turns away to start the kettle and skim through his cabinets.
Levi wonders briefly if he should offer to help, but some force inexplicable grounds him to his seat and he does not. Instead he takes the opportunity to take in the apartment. Itās not a large space, considering Erenās work, but the most important part is that it feels open.
It reminds him of his own space, and he is content, for just a little while, to wait. Levi is just beginning to turn his attention back to Eren when the boy himself approaches with two cups of tea. He receives the cup offered to him with a nod of thanks; Eren smiles a little, and takes his seat across from him.
A minute glance to the contents of his cup reveals a familiar, clear shade of amber. Levi does not look any further. Instead he lifts the cup by the rim and brings it to his lips.
Itās surreal; everything from his company to the weight of the tea, the mild discomfort of steam warming his palm. The weight of the air; the sound of waiting. He does not want to talk about work.
A little unexpectedly, Eren breaks the silence.
--
Leviās eyes are bloodshot.
āWhat, from two thousand years ago, Eren, deserved to be remembered like this?ā
--
What he recognizes are half-empty teas on the counter beside them, rapidly losing warmth. What he remembers is the suffocation of bandages covering his eyes, his temples and the bridge of his nose and pretty much half of his face, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He doesnāt miss the irony.
What he is, however, is standing on two feet, the entirety of his body trembling. Out of control. Of everything heās lost; everything heās been gifted in its stead.
Solid arms, around him. An unfamiliar sort of cold warmth. He does not remember Erenās body being this cold.
No; wrong;Ā remembers, only once--silent tears and a quiet sob and the tremble of half-filled shoulders past tanned skin peeking through overgrown dark hair. Hands, stubbornly clenched into white-knuckled fists on his knees, refusing to reach out in what must be pride or grief or both, and this fucking boy doesnāt have a fucking right to be touching him like this because he is not yet this pathetic, not--itās not as if heās run out of choices; itās not as if heās living for anyone else--
--
āYou,ā Eren tells him softly.
(And heās not kneeling; theyāre both standing, on their own terms. Eren smells a little different and Leviās hands are less calloused and his body doesnāt respond as easily as it used to, centuries ago, and heās not anything to be judged any more, not by anything else. Not by anyone else.
Eren holds him, anyway, tighter--and Levi doesnāt know what it is that compels him to stay.)
II.
(āYou,ā Eren tells him, later. āI hated you.ā
Of course he did--of fucking course he did, he'd taken everything that wasnāt his and more than that--
āAnd I loved you,ā he continues, as if he's completely unaware of the deeper furrows in Levi's face, the barest of hunches to shoulders that had held firm, pulled back taut, to the face of the very worst; and at that point Levi has no idea whether Eren actually is unaware or if this is something else, something fucking else and Eren--
Eren--
āAnd I think, now, Captain--that love was what ended up winning out.ā
Levi stares at his tea, cold and amber, and catches the way the dregs have settled to the very bottom, nonchalant in their existence as if they'd never been hiding in clear waters in the first place.
Eren leaves him with empty hands and useless words; thoughts; lingering uncertain in his head without intention of ever being said.
So what does he leave for himself?)
III.
(A little later, he watches the way Eren bites his lip above him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his best stuttered attempts at restraint; the way his flush seeps past and dusts across tanned cheeks, the slightest hint of freckles under all the makeup, the arch of his nose in a clean angle he does remember. Erenās eyes were nearly closed, focused at a point slightly off the corner of the pillow.
Then those eyes turn back toward him and meet his own, and the corners of just barely parted lips curve upwards in something soft, and malleable, and Levi aches, quietly. Heated skin and tangled limbs and heady, pulsing hearts, and he remembers the first tenderly frigid airs of spring.)
(Eren leans down--brushes a kiss to the shell of his ear and regards the integrity of trembling skin; gently untangles Leviās fingers from the pillow and replaces the loss with the heat of his own hand.)
(Whispers, a promise, one last time; holds him just a little closer, when Levi turns into his neck and gives in, for the first time, into a soft sob.)
In my mind that had been young and small
Amidst memories that shone so brightly
Like this, I try calling out to you once more
A reincarnation au based on this song in which Levi has carried out the order to execute Eren. Levi and Eren are both reborn with memories. Eren is a relatively well-known singer. Levi is no longer humanity's strongest, just an average man. He accidentally stumbles upon Erenās YouTube video. The lyrics that Eren sings are Leviās motivation to try and meet Eren in person.
(references used; shots, frames, plot are based on the music video)
lyrics translated below the read more:
A lone ice-flower that blooms white
Bares its face to a tender [welcoming] breeze;
Without being able to say anything, unaware of even the name;
To those days gone by, tears fall
Hidden in midst of cold wind;
Melting body under a single ray of sunshine;
Like this, you come to me once more
Only the memories that were good
Only the longing heart[/feelings];
On the path you took when you left
I stand here, like this, by myself
Just enough to be forgotten,
Just enough [for it to be] to be bearable[/alright] [again]
At the end of the trembling wait on the verge of tears,
I will bloom once again
Verse 2.
Love is a fire-flower that blooms and withers, [and (eventually) burns]
[I] close both eyes [wondering if] the rainwater will douse [it]
In my mind [that had been] young[/naive] and small
Amidst memories that shone so brightly[/warmly]
Like this, I [try] calling you once more
Only the memories that were good
Only the longing heart[/feelings];
On the path you took when you left
Like this, I stand alone [upon it]
Just enough to be forgotten,
Just enough to [for it] be bearable[/alright] [again]
At the end of the trembling wait on the verge of tears;
At that time, again, I will--
Bridge:
On ground that grows dry [and barren],
[My/the] entire body burns [into itself], and
Your fragrance left on the tips of my fingers
Disperses and scatters [lifts] away
Hurts; because/for/when [I] cannot grasp your hand,
that [only] grows further and further away
Just enough to live on,
Just as much as [I] hated[/blamed] [you];
[A] long ways in the future, when the spring comes that will bring you [to me];
On that day, I will [bloom and] flourish
quick drabble for ereri summer week 2017: day 2 - teacher/student au
dumb tutor/student AU in which Levi miscalculates and Eren is a little shit:
āHow did you get Erenās grades up so quickly? He can so stubborn, weāve never seen any other tutor get through so well to him.ā
ā
āThis is so fucking unprofessional, you know that?ā
Below him the bright-eyed fool snorts; once again Levi finds himself trapped under the stunning color of his eyes, wide and green and exasperated as if Leviās the one in the wrong. Eren just huffs; bobs his head down and back up before he takes his fucking dick out of his mouth with a wet pop and snarks,
āYou said if I got an ninety youād let me suck your dick. Whatās unprofessional, Mr. Ackerman, is if you go back on your promise and my grades go back down.ā
Then the stubborn dumbass bobs his head back down and Levi desperately swallows down a groan.
written for ereri summer week 2017: day 1 - medical au
The Art of Healing:
(aka the ficlet that began as a pining!Eren AU that didnāt quite end up as pining or romance. Levi runs a run-down clinic in the shady part of town. Eren is a frequent visitor. Angst/comfort, ~1.5k)
Heād thought that he would meet his eyes. That no matter the outcome, for this, for him, heād scrape together the last of his guts and offer everything he has left.
But the same man that makes him want to give up everything and let go of it all makes him want to take back the very bits and pieces he bared and hide them away, push them deep inside the cavity remaining after everything heās given up and just, forget.
---
"I love you," Eren blurts. Levi has his hand in both of his, having dumped rubbing alcohol on torn knuckles then slathered it in antibiotic, and is currently wrapping gauze around the bloody wound. This is the third, just today. The older man doesn't even pause. Hell, with the way he's acting Eren can't even tell if he'd heard him. But it's impossible not to have at this distance and all he can really do is wait.
Rejection. A scoff. Laughter. Shit, anything. Maybe a I never want to see you again or a shove and a get the fuck out, or maybe he'll stab him with the scissors he used to cut his bandages or the knife in the first aid kit he used to get out his splinters. Cut out his heart, physically, as if he isn't already doing so metaphorically.
But Levi does none of these things, and maybe, in hindsight, that's kind of him but Eren thinks that it's mostly cruel, to be leaving him like this. Something inside hurts, vaguely aches like a dull pang in the background, and he doesn't really know how to fix it. Except he does, but it's in Levi's hands, all of it, and he can't help but wonder in this silence that this is his way of rejecting what's already become his.
I love you, Eren repeats in his head. I love you I love you I love you look at me.
But with Levi he never knows. No one ever really knows with this enigma of a man and all Eren can do is to wait.
Maybe he'll never get an answer. It probably means he doesn't ever want to hear from him ever. He'll have to take all the post-fight patching up somewhere else; either suck it up and do it himself (not likely) or drag himself down to Arminās and hope he won't tell on fucking Mikasa.
But that would defeat the whole purpose, telling anyone else. Hell Levi doesn't even know what brings him here; mild and various fist fight injuries, yes, but no oneās ever bothered to venture past the surface.
And when Eren thinks about it it's ridiculous. It's even more ridiculous, not to mention presumptuous, to blurt out feelings for this man. He's nothing more than a hot headed, quick tempered brat to the seasoned retired army nurse working for the dilapidated low-income, no-ID clinic. Though. He doesn't actually know if Levi's a seasoned retired army nurse, he just kind of. Assumed.
Which makes an ass out of you and me.
Eren blinks.
Levi is staring back at him, dark grey eyes appearing uninterested yet somehow managing to pierce through him, through his eyes and deep into his head and for a moment he thinks absurdly that maybe Levi has read his mind.
"What?" Eren says, ever so eloquent, and the pretty face in front of him (god his eyes are fucking broken, in the best way though) scowls.
"I said, assuming makes an ass out of--"
"Oh, uh. Fuck. Did I say that out loud?"
Levi snorts. Eren, tips of ears flushing, looks down. His hands are back on his lap, neatly bandaged. He misses having Levi's hands on his. Even if they're pouring alcohol on his freshly bleeding knuckles.
He doesn't know why there's another pause there, but they sit in silence for a moment, and it's awkward as hell but he doesn't really know how to fix that, either. Why is it that it's always Levi that fixes things, always Eren that comes in to get fixed--then, by that logic, it makes no sense why it's Levi breaking him this time.
Does he even know that he is?
"Unless you have anything else for me look at, it's gonna be ten bucks."
Ten?
"Ten?" Eren repeats dumbly. Levi's looking at him like he's an idiot, not that he really needs to, he is a fucking idiot but god, he can't just--not after this--
"Wait, Levi," he continues, heart clenching in his chest; "What about what I just said?"
Levi's eyes narrow, and in that moment Eren cringes and he hopes it hasn't shown through but he's always been told his face is an open book andā
And then those steel-hard eyes soften; and maybeāhe hasn't screwed up everything?
"Eren," his voice is something gentler, a tone he hasn't ever heard directed at him beforeāat others, yes, namely frightened children that has their turn before him while he waits or to stray cats in the back alleys behind the clinic, and while his heart does a weird flip Eren doesn't know if he likes it. He won't, he's not so pathetic that a tone like this will reduce him to his knees, no, not yet, not yet--but then Levi continues and Eren is helpless to fall silent, trying not to squirm in his seat. "Eren, listen. You don't just come to a clinic like this a couple times and fall in love with someone like me. NoāI said listen.ā
And he says that as if he can do anything else. Knuckles pounding dully in hand, the sharp tang of blood echoing on his tongue. Aching muscles and greasy hair and shoulders that donāt fit into the joints of his torso, too heavy and too lanky and just. Ugly.
And then, more than that, bare.
Levi effectively shuts him up and there goes the last of his defense, crumbling before something ugly and misfit and naked. His heart pounds, and the oddly arrhythmic drum of the organ echoes under the bones of his rib cage like a thousand needles pricking him from the inside out.
If Levi tries to tell him that heās just mistaken, that this is just a phase, he doesnāt think he could take it. Not from this man. Not from anyone else, not from himself and not from him.
āā¦Eren,ā he begins again.
Heād thought that he would meet his eyes. That no matter the outcome, for this, for him, that heād scrape together the last of his guts and offer, everything he has left.
But the same man that makes him want to give up everything and let go of it all makes him want to take back the very bits and pieces he bared and hide them away, push them deep inside the cavity remaining after everything heās given up and just, forget.
And maybe heāll tell him that heās not who he thinks he is. Or maybe heāll just tell him that he already has someone. Itās so fucking like him to refuse to consider that possibility until the last minute, when itās too late.
Just. Just another something too late in a sea of everything that has lost its time and place, as if heās not drowning already.
āā¦Donāt.ā The word spills out of his mouth before he even thinks of sounding the syllable. āDonāt. Pleaseādonāt, donāt reject me.ā
The silence that follows carries the weight of a walk to the gallows.
What Eren doesnāt know is that it is a walk for the both of them, towards the end of everything on opposite ends; nothing but two prisoners brushing past across cold concrete leading in opposite directions. The scent of disinfectant saturating the air, the tremble of his skin, the bow of his head.
Levi has never known what to say in face of so much unveiled vulnerability, spilling raw and weak all at once.
Itās not new to him, but he still doesnāt.
But he remembers the look in this boyās eyes, the sunken circles under his irises, the way he walks; as if heās fighting something that isnāt chasing him but one that has already caught up to his back, sinking into his shadow and saddling his feet with a weight that should not exist. He remembers blood and unrepentance and hunched figures behind rotting alleyways and eyes too hollow on children too young.
Eyes; the image of a gaze still-alight, unextinguished fire and despair;Ā frustration and responsibility too heavy for shoulders too narrow, a back carved with scarlet scars to match the ash scattered at his feet. Eyes, that had met his. Lingering when he thought he wasnāt aware, dropping to the floor to his return.
He, too, begins to move before he thinks it through.
All he knows is this; Levi reaches for Erenās hair and tangles rough fingers into greasy locks. Itās not a stretch for him to pull the boy forward, forehead to shoulder.
The tremble is obvious, then. The heat of another body so close to his reverberates into his own skin, and as stiffened shoulders break into shudders, a fist curling into Leviās back, Levi closes his eyes and holds him still.
Title: Building Sanctuary
Author: @francisinparis
Recipient: @ackergay
Contents: Canonverse, (still somewhat boyish but) older!Eren and gentle Levi as requested, brief Jean with horrible timing,Ā a bit of fluff, quite a bit of mutual pining and longing, clumsy realizing feelings stage, a little cliche in general. A brief mention of minor character death, so be warned! SFW save for an implication at the end (Sorry! There may or may not be a nsfw continuation coming? I make no promises. ^v^;;)
Summary:Ā Softāthe look in eyes that were never apathetic or cold; theyāre soft. Eren doesnāt know what to make of this realization, only knows that he canāt escape from it. Not in this sweetness in midst of turmoil, the miniscule opening to his yearning; subtle but palpable, once found. How had they even gotten here?
Jean stares at him for a long moment, cheeks flushed and eyes narrowed in that particular way of his he does sometimes that pisses Eren off without a legitimate explanation. Then, against all odds, he laughs.
ā....Are you fucking stupid?ā
Jean groans when Eren scowls; in the split second he has before Eren opens his mouth he grabs him by the collar and pulls him into a kiss.
