EREANI DISCORD SERVER IS NOW AVAILABLE
Hey, everyone! We’re happy to announce that we made a discord server for all you EreAnis out there to join and have fun! We’ve been setting it up for the past couple days and it’s ready to go public!
We’ll leave a set of server guidelines as well as the invite link under the read more. If you are interested in joining, go on and click ahead!
These guidelines are also available on the server, but we thought we would include them here just to ensure nobody misses them. Please take the time to read them; they’re important.
Welcome to the EreAni server! Before you start your journey, here are a set of guidelines that we ask you to follow in order to keep everything in place.
- Kindness is contagious. Please be kind to everyone in the server. Do not harass or harm any of the members of this server in any way. Be respectful, accept differences (this includes race, religion, sexuality, etc…), and treat one another the way you wish to be treated. Should this rule be broken, you will be instantly banned from the server.
- Everyone should feel welcome, which means people will have different opinions, ships and characters they like/dislike. While the main ship here is EreAni, be mindful of other ships too regardless of how you feel about them. This is a hate-free space. A warning shall be given in case the rule is broken, though continuous, inconsiderate behavior might result in a ban.
- Please respect what each channel is for. Only post content in a certain channel if you think it’s appropriate for it. (e.g don’t post fanfics in the #fanart channel. It’s okay if it’s by mistake, we all make those, but once noted please move it to the appropriate channel)
- That said, properly credit the creators, by sending the direct link to their work rather than reposting it yourself on the server. (e.g do not upload a fanart if you don’t own it, but instead send the original link to the post that the creator made)
- Still on the topic of channels, this is mentioned in the description, but spoilers are extremely prohibited outside of the #spoilers channel until 24 hours of the official crunchyroll release have passed.
- Fandom is a big place, meaning anyone of any age can join. Keep the nsfw to a minimum, and keep it related to EreAni. We might eventually add a nsfw channel where all nsfw things go, but remember that not all members are of age.
- Last but not least, have fun! Make friends, and enjoy yourself!
Sincerely, your mods, @kenken-chan, @lunarcrystals and @nakamatoo.
If you read these guidelines and are interested in joining the server, here is the invitation link! Welcome aboard!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Annie Leonhardt/Eren Jaeger
Characters: Annie Leonhardt, Eren Jaeger, Zeke pops in for like a second
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Pegging, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub Undertones, Sex Toys, Competitive sex, Oral Sex, Nipple Piercings, Belligerent pillow talk
Series: Part 3 of ereannie modern/reincarnation AU
Summary:
In which Annie and Eren try to figure out their feelings through topping each other. Results vary.
Came across this while looking for inspo and couldn’t help but think in these two. Too late for Annie’s bday, too early for Eren’s, but here they are.
a/n: Triple drabble for the day 07 prompt: What Could Have Been
The last time they spoke, he was already a man. Clammy and gaunt in the Paths’ sunless sky, the strength he once possessed whittled away into servitude of the Founder’s mindless advance. His clothes clung to him and he’d lost his shoes. No resemblance to the cadet she’d once called a training partner.
He loomed over her frame, looking at her and then away. As if she were something brilliant, blinding. He said, in a deeper voice than her memories, “I should have visited.”
“It wouldn’t make a difference.” A harmless platitude was more than he deserved. Jaeger’s expression trembled at the edges. Nausea coiled in the pit of her stomach until she spat the words, “You can’t even convince yourself.”
He looked resigned. An eerie gleam to his eyes, like he was prodding around inside her skull without a conscious desire. “You’ll have a nice, boring life. You won’t live to see the worst of it.” Tears prickled her eyes, unshed. She ought to sweep out his ankle and start kicking but it wouldn’t end the conflict any faster. “Your father is—”
“Don’t tell me.”
Her father’s last moments were spent on the side of the ocean, waiting for her body to come back in a box. Annie Leonhardt, war hero and child of the Devil, friend to none but the dead. Victim to her own inscrutable frailty. The whims of a monster playing soldier.
In the Paths, she hid against his sternum without a witness. The dark ring around his throat bled into her hair. Burns under his cheekbones and eyelids. Arms at her sides, a tacit compromise to his weary embrace.
“In a few centuries, we’ll catch up again.” His lips brushed her hairline. “I’ve seen it.”
Poisoned by his resolve, she whispered, “I’ll look for you.
Triple drabble for the prompt: paths connection. This one's more gen/platonic but I liked the idea of it enough to tune up and share!
She found him waiting, the white sand turned blueish in the Coordinate's glow. Leonhardt's will to end this conflict faltered at the sight of her enemy, unscarred and innocent. He couldn't be older than ten. He took a step back as if anticipating his own displacement. "Oh. I thought you were someone else."
Her throat constricted. The boy picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. His fingernails crusted with dried blood.
"What happened to your hand?"
The boy pulled a fist, frowning. "Dunno."
Leonhardt crouched down. She tore a strip from her tattered, dirty sleeve and wrapped it around his palm, cradling his hand like a dead animal. She stood up before she had to look into his eyes. "You shouldn't let it bleed."
The linen was loose and the boy tied it properly. "Are you waiting for someone, too?"
"Yes."
"Is it a friend?"
Leonhardt bit her tongue. The boy sensed his blunder but not the cause.
"Sorry." He offered his bandaged hand. "I'm Eren."
Leonhardt shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She didn't need a weapon.
"Annie."
At the horizon the first ray of sunlight cast over the sand, closer to blood than daybreak.
"Is it someone important?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"I don't."
She scoffed and began walking along the dune's edge, the boy tagging along. "I didn't ask to be followed, Jaeger."
"You know my name?"
Pinpricks in her mouth, kneeling in the white sand. The boy not yet a corpse crouched down, eye-to-eye.
"Are you OK?"
A scream clawed its way towards her throat. Leonhardt wrapped her arms around him in a futile gesture. "I shouldn't have taught you to fight," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
The boy slipped from her weakened grasp and left her applogizing to the dead.
summary: Annie says goodbye to her old sparring partner.
a/n: for @lightweaverelend :)
Title from the track of the same name by Nine Inch Nails — Ghosts VI: Locusts.
They stood looking over the plateau. Far beneath was the outline shape of the barracks and mess hall of the Training Corps Southern Division. The sky cloudless and unbroken stretched out over the horizon to the mountain range.
Annie was in her old trainee uniform, Eren at her shoulder. She didn't ask why they were here. It was the last time he'd ever seen her. The strongest association bleeding through time and paths to a fixed point.
I'm sorry, he said. For not visiting. I couldn't bring myself look at you and see the enemy. But I never stopped thinking about you. If you hadn't taught me what you knew, I would be dead.
Annie said nothing. A beat passed, unfilled until Eren's boot scraped against the dirt.
Thank you. For putting your faith in me, I mean.
Annie looked out over the field. There was no familiarity, besides the dry, hot air. His eyes settled on the nape of her neck.
I shouldn't have bothered. You've damned yourself and your island.
Eren smiled. He was fifteen again, bereft of scars, but his eyes carried a lifetime of regret that had softened his rage into resignation. The boy she'd sparred with never held such a distinction.
I should have married you, he said.
You wouldn't have. Not after you'd learned what I was. Even then, you'd have just gone to your death.
He smiled.
Maybe you're right.
The wind picked up. Annie clung to her hoodie and suppressed a shiver. It wasn't that cold up here.
I'm sorry, he said again.
I know.
The scenery melted into itself. Shifting and reshaping. Annie braced herself against the indistinct ground but kept her footing.
An old forest bathed in moonlight. They could be back home or somewhere in Paradis for all the difference it made. He was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. He smelled the same as her memories dictated.
No, she whispered. Don't use this against me.
He was older. Taller than she'd ever seen. Callouses to his fingers. His nails crusted with blood that wasn't hers. He looked hurt. A little confused.
Annie, why are we here?
His voice had deepened. When he reached out to touch her arm, his skin burned against her naked wrist. She could not speak. His capacity for ignorance disgusted her. With the power of the Founder he could reach out and touch the minds of every Eldian but not her weakness or its heart.
She knocked him down onto the dying leaves and grass. Kicked him where he lay unprotesting and mute until his nose broke and began to steam against her boot. She sat on top of his chest and wrapped her hands around his throat, thumbs resting against his windpipe.
A line around his throat bled onto his worn collar and her palms. His skin clammy and pale beneath the grime, but his expression was familiar. It was what she chose to avoid in mirrors.
She dropped her head into his sternum. Iron and the sweeter tang of rot. His hands on her back, soothing and steady, couldn't erase the tension in his chest. Truth lingering at the edges of his control. A level of helplessness he'd reserved for her betrayal.
In his position she always assumed she could do what was right, as a Warrior, then soldier. But her hands wouldn't obey. No witnesses to her enemy's mercy.
Please, she whispered. Make me forget what you're going to do.
I can't.
She could smell the dead leaves and the earth and the blood as if it was there and she was not many metres away, trapped within her Titan and waiting to be culled.
Eren didn't speak. Blood pooled around his throat, his sclera gleaming in the moonlight. The scarring around his jaw and eyelids looked fresh. She took one of his long, calloused hands and slipped it under the hem of her hoodie.
His pupils dilated. He let her steer, cupping her like she was something brittle or injured. Probably he'd never done this before. She jerked his chin up and crushed her lips to his, teeth all over his lips and his trembling throat. If she couldn't keep him, she wanted a scar.
She groped between his legs and squeezed. Eren made a strangled noise. He reared up and flipped them over, pulling her collar down until it tore. His teeth sank into her naked shoulder. She buried her fingers in his long hair, using her legs to roll them over and pulled her chinos down to her knees.
In the real world she'd been semiconscious for four years and he only ever visited once or twice. But in this approximation of a dream he was warm and solid and her body responded as it would have if she'd ever permitted the opportunity. She didn't mind that he was older. He more resembled her, now. Tired and frightened and seeking an escape from the weight of their sins.
Such an understanding gave way to a perpetual series of goodbyes. Training and Trost and graduation. She was too busy playing soldier to entertain his whims about the outside world, but not enough to let him poison her resolve. She'd wake up in the barracks with a lump in her throat and her pulse hammering. It was easier to knock him around than examine her own unexpressed desires.
She felt him pressing into her stomach and his eyes roving over her skin. He wasn't yet dead. She unbuttoned his trousers and got on top of him and placed a hand around his throat, expecting him to disarm her, but he just lay still and let her take what he offered.
His lips trembled, a furrow in his brow. He stared as if to memorize the shape of her lips and brow and nose. She bent down and took him by the jaw and licked slowly at his teeth until he opened his mouth. Praise and deference were as close as she'd come to acknowledging his affection. She had never permitted herself to be selfish.
Afterward, he looked at her with the same desperation he had that morning in Stohess. In the forest beyond Wall Maria before she knocked his Titan's head clean off, she never questioned why he'd hesitated. He wasn't in control back then. Easy to disarm and easier to trick because he'd always been simpleminded. Give him an enemy and he'd ask, how many?
Her shoulder throbbed. A thin trail of vapor eminated from the wound already reknitting itself. Annie began to tremble. His expression changed. He touched her face and whispered apologies. As if this was why he was being selfish. As if she would ever shed a tear for the fool who'd martyr himself to see the world that lay beyond home and prison.
She did not cry but lay there with her cheek to his breast. Splayed across his body in a fruitless gesture of protection. Eren exhaled in a dead man's rattle. She would live to inherit the end of Paradis's war and he could rest.
Did you mean it? That you would marry me.
Yes.
The sun's warmth spread over the tops of the trees though she could not see it burning. His throat glistened darkly. Eren stroked her scalp with grimy fingers. Annie closed her eyes and smelled the fumes from the guns and aeroplanes and the mingling of days-old blood and sweat. His pulse thrummed against her ear.
The iron key was returned to him after his discharge. Eren pulled it from around his neck and placed it in her palm, the cord pooling, worn down to fibers.
“It’s not like I can use it anymore.” His eyes averted to the painting on the wall; a verdant plain against sky, indistinguishable from Valle or Paradis. In a tight voice he asked, “Do you have anything from your parents?”
Annie considered it. Birth records, bloodwork. Her Warrior’s certificate and faded yellow armband. The trick ring as a reminder of lives cut down and deceived. Her father’s final request.