#poured my heart and soul into this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

25% of US internet users with an annual income of $80-100K use Tumblr.

#poured my heart and soul into this

bloofinntoona · 1 year

Text

cross your heart: part 1

Word Count: 4 k

Themes: angst, aged-up characters, suggestive themes (no smut), sebastian sallow x F!reader

Summary: why did sebastian sallow disappear after graduation? even after all the years you’ve spent trying to forget him, you realized that he never left your heart. would things be the same when you accidentally saw him again, now as your foe?

One

You took a deep breath.

Two

Three

Four

You exhaled.

Five

“Expelliarmus!” you shouted as you leapt from the makeshift barricade made out of wooden debris, casting a light blue spark directed to the figure across you. In a split second, as his wand flew from his grip – you casted “Confringo!”, waves of flame burst from your wand, burning the man. Taking another beather, you felt the world was at a standstill. Fog clouded your vision, the cold winter night breeze stung your reddened ears, your eyes darting between the hoard of hooded foes casting curses and hexes and your team of Auror officers. “Just a little bit more, my friend!” You snapped back to reality, focusing on Natty, who was chasing down a mongrel — you’d assumed was an Animagus.

Of course, there was no time to waste. Just a little bit of push and this battle will be finished. “Incendio!” A ring of fire spread around you, blazing the group of inferi that were closing in on you. You ran towards the biggest tent in the area, scanning the dimly-lit room. “Avada Kedavra!” You immediately dodged the green light, heart beating wildly against your chest. Godric’s Heart, just a second late and you would be dead. You swiftly striked “Diffindo!”, inflicting a wound on the man’s arm. “Depulso! Flipendo!” The wizard’s body flung all over the room, finally slammed down to the ground with a loud Thump! Blood spluttered from the man’s mouth, most likely from broken bones. Carefully inching closer, you stepped on the dark wizard’s black crooked wand, snapping it in half. You pointed your wand at his direction, as you leaned down to check on him, you noticed a hydra dragon with three heads tattooed on his forearm. Just as Officer Singer had warned you, the group of Dark magicians were a part of the recently formed group of Dark Arts users who would go around torturing and killing people, always leaving three slash marks on the victims’ chests. You pushed thee tip of your wand against the wizard’s neck, “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” He let out a sinister laugh, catching you off guard, he landed a punch right in your stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs as you stumbled down. “You can’t stop us all,” he winced, “kill one, and more will rise. Apparate!” In a split second, the dark wizard vanished into a black smoke, leaving you on the floor, clutching your stomach in pain.

Natty came rushing into the camp, seeing you writhing on the ground, she grabbed a Wiggenweld potion from her satchel and offered the bottle to you. “Are you alright?”

You swiftly gulped the green liquid in one shot, promptly reducing the pain you had been dealing. “Thank you, I’m alright now,” you sighed, looking around the now wreck of a room, “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch him. Ruth was right, he is one of those blasted Hydra members.”

Natty shook her head, “Don’t worry.” She picked up the dark wizard’s broken wand, securing the pieces in her bag. “I think this should suffice. We can take this to the Ministry for further investigation. Come on, now.” Natty casted Incendio, creating a small bonfire in the middle of the tent. “Let’s get out of here.” Hoisting you up, she threw a handful of Floo Powder from her pocket to the fire, “Ministry of Magic!”

You closed your eyes, letting the green flames envelope your body, transferring you to your destination.

It had been a week since you, Natty, and several other Auror officers ransacked a Hydra encampment. Officer Ruth Singer, now promoted as one of the Auror heads, ordered you to take a couple days off from raiding. To be quite honest, you knew she needed someone to do the long overdue paperwork. You didn’t mind, it was a nice break from putting your life on the line all the time.

Ever since the end of year sixth studying at Hogwarts, you had decided to take on the journey to become an Auror officer. After all, you did spend some time defeating bands of poachers, spiders, goblins, and even trolls. A small part of you wanted to leave your fighting days behind, as you stopped using Ancient Magic altogether after the passing of Professor Fig. You kept your last memory of the honorable man close to your heart – as you promised him that you shall make sure to be the keeper of Ancient Magic, so the powerful force wouldn’t end up in the wrong hands. There were two reasons why you eventually chose to be an Auror; firstly, on a one particular day, Professor Hecat sat you down, brewed you a delightful piping hot cup of tea, and convinced you that you have a massive potential to fight for the good of Wizardkind. She also added that it could be a good challenge to practice your duelling skills without the use of Anicent Magic.

The second reason is, the Slytherin boy that has successfully taken your heart as hostage. It was none other than the one-and-only Sebastian Sallow.

Where to begin with Mr. Sallow? It was an understatement to say that you had a history with him. The connection that you formed Sebastian, even after ten years or so, you couldn’t find anything that came close to the euphoric feelings that you had when you stare into his hazel eyes. Until now, you didn’t understand why it felt so natural to care about the boy. You genuinely tried to help him find a cure for his sick twin sister, even letting him dove deep into the Dark Arts – leaving you with a life lesson that such force shouldn’t be trifled with. You swore that he’d enchanted you, that you would do anything just to see a glint of smile on his face.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the school halls, lights from the floating candles barely cleared your path. It was late into the night after the graduation party. Everyone, even the paintings, were fast asleep, trunks packed as the students were ready to either further their education, or some planned to explore the vast world beyond Hogwarts. Pointing your wand to the clock, turning the gears, prompting the furniture to open its door. You hurried down the stairs to the Undercroft, the secret hideout that only Sebastian, Ominis, and you knew. However, Ominis was rarely seen in the croft after the incident with Solomon Sallow. Ties were severed that day. You tried convincing the Blonde boy, but it was for naught. Nothing you and Sebastian could do to turn back time and restore the trust. You tried your best to cheer Sebastian as well, greeting him with the best smile that you could muster, and offering your shoulder to cry on whenever dark thoughts clouded his mind. Sebastian still had an interest in duelling, thus you made a pact with him that you both would take the N.E.W.Ts together and join the Auror office. The last years in school were spent taking advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potion classes together.

You well knew that your feelings had blossomed into something more. You couldn’t finish the day without thinking about Sebastian. Often times he would visit you in your dreams, holding him, touching him, wondering how his lips tasted like. You were no coward. Despite the so-called etiquette of being a proper lady that had been instilled in you, you determined to at least confessed your feelings to your closest friend before you leave the school.

There he was, standing in front of the triptych, adorned in the green and black Slytherin coat. You’d always thought the color green suited him the most. “This is it”, you thought, taking long strides to the boy. He turned around, flashing a faint smile. Before he could utter a single word, you grasped his tie, pulling him down, and crashing your lips against his. You could feel his body stiffen, probably surprised at your sudden brazen act. It was almost taboo for women to make the first move. It didn’t take long for Sebastian to reciprocate, cupping your face. You felt like your body was weightless, as if you were on the back of Highwing again. Yet at the same time, your body burned hotter than fire.

Few words were exchanged that night. You spend the dark hours wrapped in each other’s arms, you swore you fell asleep smiling, imagining your future together with him.

Morning came, and to your devastation, you were left alone with your heart in pieces and a note etched in a parchment paper.

“I’m sorry. -S.S”

That was the last time you saw Sebastian Sallow.

A knock against the door to your office took you out from your nostalgic thoughts. “Natty!” you exclaimed, jumping out of your desk to hug your friend. Natty was your rock, she was there when you spent your days wallowing the lost of your love. With perseverance, she pulled you out from your misery and became your companion in your studies in becoming an Auror. “Ruth is expecting you in her office. And by the way, looks like you received another letter of marriage proposal.” Natty added, flapping the envelope in front of your face. You sighed, taking the piece of paper and threw it in the bin, alongside several other unopened proposal letters.

“When do you think they stop sending us proposals? I don’t even know them!” you huffed.

Your best friend laughed, patting your back, “I think some of them have started calling you a spinster.”

You rolled your eyes, “They can say whatever they want, Natty, I don’t care.” You truly don’t. You tried opening your heart for another men to fill, yet your heart still yearned for the same Slytherin boy that you loved years ago. You found zero reason to shack up with someone that you don’t love. “Alright then, best be on my way to see Ruth.”

The Daily Prophet paper clippings, stacks of wanted posters, and report papers decorated Officer Ruth Singer’s desk. Her office was pretty small for an officer in her calibre, but she has always been more keen in patrolling out than being stuck in her desk. You closed the door behind you. “Hello Ruth, anything I can do for you?”

“Ah!” the head Auror set her tea down, “just the person I was looking for. I trust you’ve recovered well?”

“Yes ma’am.” You smiled, “I’m ready for whatever task you have in mind.”

“Good. I have a case that might piqued your interest.” The brunette-haired woman set down a map in front of you, pointing to a spot down around the Clagmar Coast area. “I have just received a tip that there were sightings of dark wizards here. Unfortunately, I had assigned our other officers to other cases, and I supposed you can investigate this?”

“Are they a part of Hydra, ma’am?”

Officer Ruth shrugged, “They most likely are. Please, be careful. Don’t engage if there are a lot of them. Just report back to me.”

You gave the woman a salute and went back to pack the essentials – an array of potions and plants were hastily dumped into your bottomless satchel. The longer you dilly dally, more possibility for the target to move.

It has been a while since you went to the gloomy coast. You were never a fan of the place. It was cold, muddy, filled with Dugbogs and Poachers to top it off. Being on your broom wasn’t so bad though, feeling the fresh ocean breeze blowing against you. You flew quite close to the grounds, scanning the area. You thought you went around twice, feeling a bit disappointed that you might have just missed the suspects.

That was until you heard a blood curling scream. You quickly titled your broom downwards, flying faster to the source. Putting your broom away, you casted a Disillusionment spell, rendering you invincible. You hid behind a huge tree, peeking to see the commotion. To your horror, you saw a man, one of the men you saw on the wanted posters on Officer Ruth’s desk, hands tied behind his back, writhing in pain on the ground. “Please, please, please,” he coarsely cried, “make it stop… or, just kill me!”

“Ya better shut yer’ trap or I will keep you for days!” one of the hooded wizard shouted, before pointing his wand to the pleading man. “Crucio!”

You cringed as you heard the man pained cries, his limbs were twisted in directions that you thought weren’t humanely possible. “Crucio!” Another curse hurled from a woman, also covered in dark hooded robe. The tortured man was reduced to tense muscles and breathless grunts. His back arched as if his body was snapped in half. You could see a shadow of the third figure looming over.

Scanning the area once more, you deducted that there were only three of them. Confident that you were able to take them on, you inched closer to the group, still under the Disillusionment charm. “Petrificus Totalus!” you shouted, binding one of the dark wizard closest to you. As he was paralyzed, you attacked him with a series of casts, pushing the man away from the victim. The woman laughed maniacally as she scream incoherently, calling a hoard of inferi to attack you. You used a combination of Confringo and Incendio to burn the living corpses. Trying to keep track of the three opponents was harder than you thought, especially with the inferi spawning all over the place. “Levioso! Accio!” you were able to flung the man, hurting him with basic casts while he was mid-air, he finally dropped down defeated. After burning through the corpses, you were able to find the hooded woman running away from you. You chased after her, as you closed in, you waved your wand, transfiguring the woman into a barrel. Without any hesitation, you quickly destroyed the item.

Wait, you thought to yourself, there was one more. While you tried to catch your breath, your eyes frantically darting to every corner of your peripherals, yet you couldn’t find the third figure.

One

You took a deep breath.

Two

Three-

Just before the count of four, you felt a cold blunt item poking against your neck, hitching your breath. Your felt your body tensed, how could you miss this? Is this the end? Your thoughts were all over the place. And then it hit you, the smell of ashes, sandalwood, and a tinge of musk – the scent that was etched in your heart. The scent of the man that slipped away from your arms long time ago. Your visions were blurry, knees weak as you felt the man’s figure pressed against your back. “Petrificus Totalus.” You heard him whisper, before everything went dark.

Sobs and cries filled your ears as you stood in front of a grave at Feldcroft. “Anne Sallow, loved and remembered forever.” Written on the stone, simply decorated with a small angel statue on the top. You placed the white Lily flower on top of the soil, before finding your way back between the small crowd. Everybody tried their best to find a cure, but Solomon was right, the curse was stuck with the poor girl forever, slowly rotting her body away. But she passed being cared by her friends, especially Ominis, who never left her side after graduating from Hogwarts. To everyone’s surprise, her own twin brother was not there. It felt like the person who fought for her the most has given up. Deep down, you had hoped that you were able to see him again this time, finding the answer why he left. You were disappointed once again, forced to bury your feelings again.

The sound of waves crashing greeted you as you woke up from the deep slumber, feeling the soft blanket wrapped around your body. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open and gained focus, taking particular interest to the full moon peeking through the window. Your body shot up, finally conscious enough to realize that you were in an unfamiliar room – old dusty wooden floor illuminated by the crackling fireplace; maps, newspaper clippings and posters pasted on the wall, just above a desk filled with stacks of books. Your eyes trailed down, finding empty bottles of what you assumed were muggle-made alcoholic beverages.

“Ah, you’re awake.” A calm voice broke your trance. Just as you thought, Sebastian Sallow stood in front of you. Gone was the schoolboy you kept in your memories all this time, replaced by a tall, brooding man towering over you. He kept his hair in a similar style, his gaze significantly darkened, making you wonder about the things that he had experienced throughout the years. You find solace seeing the same tiny freckles adorned his face, wait, did he always have that scar on the right side of his jaw? Your eyes trailed down to his left forearm, to your disappointment, there was the hydra dragon tattoo wrapped around his arm, just underneath the rolled sleeve of his shirt.

Immediately, waves of emotions crashed onto you like a tsunami – anger, relieve, frustration, yearning, all mixed up in your head. You couldn’t even stop the tears that were dripping down, wetting the blanket. Sebastian gently sat down on the bed, he reached for your hand, yet you pulled back. “I thought you died,” you croaked between sobs, “I-I had to forget about you.” You heard him sigh, bringing a flask to his lips, taking a swing from it. “Why, Sebastian? Was I meant nothing to you? What we had… was that even real?”

He kept his silence, the only thing that was audible was the sound of your hiccups and logs cracking from the fireplace. After you calmed down a bit, he offered you the flask, you gave him a suspecting look. “Relax,” Sebastian sighed again, “if I wanted to kill you, I’ve already done that when you were unconscious.”

You huffed, taking the container and downed the liquid inside. It was bitter, and the alcohol was strong enough to make you wince. “It was an old wine I got from my trip to Italy.” Sebastian explained, “helps with the headache after a binding spell.”

“Italy?” You asked. He was right, the wine did calm you down – physically and emotionally. You were too tired to fight him anyways, all you wanted to do was to find out the truth.

“I had to go away and clear my head-“

“Without telling me? Without sending a single owl? Don’t you know how worried I was?” you riled up again, now finding the strength to get up from the bed.

Sebastian stood again, now you could see how he was significantly taller than you. He crossed his arms, “Go on.”

You scoffed loudly, “Go on? I have much to say to you, Sallow. I spent years trying to get us to where we were before the incident… but you just ran away! Like a coward!”

“A coward?” He shook his head, a bitter grin plastered across his face, “Do you even try to listen to yourself? Have you ever, during those years, thought about what I was dealing with? Yes, I was eternally thankful that you didn’t send me to the Ministry, but have you ever thought about what it felt like to see the people closest to me deathly scared of me?”

“I saw how you and Ominis grimaced whenever I held my wand. I knew what you both thought, you are scared that I would use the Dark Arts again. You said you trusted me, but I know we were never be able to go back to where it was before.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you turned away from him. He was right, you had clinged on to the hope that your things would be the same again because of your selfish desire to have Sebastian. “You didn’t even come to your sister’s funeral.” You whispered.

“She never said that she wanted to see me again. The least I can do is to honor her wish.” He said coldly, taking another sip of the wine.

“Then why did you join…” you turned to him, eyeing the tattoo on his arm, “that group? Is cutting us out from your life not enough?”

“I tried to stay away from the Dark Arts, I truly do. But… The potential that I felt… I still believe that there are more to it than just forbidden curses. And, don’t you see that we only inflict them on crime suspects? How is that different from what you Aurors do?”

You fell silent.

“Morality is a strange concept, is it not?” Sebastian scoffed. “Just like your special ability with Ancient Magic. The difference is that I chose to embrace it.”

You took the flask from his hand, taking a big swing, the whole ordeal took a toll on you. Walking closer to the desk, you glanced over the old Dark Art books – probably stolen from the restricted section years ago, several letters sprawled on the surface, and to your surprise, you pulled a tattered ribbon, stuck between stacks of journal.

It was very difficult to make sure you have all your belongings packed in your trunk when tears wouldn’t stop streaming from your eyes, wetting the pile of crumpled clothes under you. On top of that, your hair was getting in the way of your sight. You searched for the ribbon that you’ve been wearing to tie your hair – a silk ribbon of your house color that Sebastian gifted you on your first birthday at Hogwarts. You couldn’t find it anywhere, you’d thought you most likely dropped the item at the Undercroft. Never mind then, maybe it’s better that way, easier for you to forget Sebastian.

Deep in your personal thoughts, you didn’t even realize the footsteps slowly closing in on you. His warm breath caressed your nape, sending quivers down your spine, feeling goosebumps all over your body. Both excitement and fear took over you – even after all this time, there were some nights that you would find your fingers inside your undergarments, imagining Sebastian’s deep brown eyes on top of you. Carefully, he ran his fingers through your long hair, cascading down to your back. He grasped a strand of hair, bringing it against his lips, “You kept your hair long… Just the way I like it.” You hated to admit the truth, but you have been growing your hair ever since Sebastian made a remark that he ‘thinks long haired girls are very attractive’.

Gathering the last bits of courage you have, you turned around to face the imposing figure behind you. God, you were utterly bewitched by him. Your hands found their rest on the edge of the desk, taking a mental note that you were as cornered as lamb beneath its prey. Sebastian dared to get closer, his leg nestled between yours, calloused hands laid on top of yours, interlacing your fingers with his. In the corner of your eye, you were drawn to focus on a small tattoo just below his ear. It was an initial. Your initials, eternally inked on his freckled skin. “Sebastian,” you gently whispered, “all this time?”

“Always.”

The world stopped moving as he laid his lips against yours.

One

You breathed in. Ashes. Sandalwood. Musk.

Two

Three

Four

Sebastian Sallow tasted the same as he did years ago.

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you so much for reading my works! I’ve been thinking about this story for days now. I never thought that I would be writing again, but the love I’ve received from the HL community encouraged me to share my stories. Hope you enjoyed this one. I’m thinking to do a second part with mature themes. Please let me know your thoughts! <3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x f!reader #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #natsai onai #ominis gaunt #sebastian #harry potter #wizarding world #hhhhhh i hope you all like this #poured my heart and soul into this #love yous

613 notes · View notes

babylovepresley · 2 years

Note

okay first one

e.p taking care of you when your sick

and I’m thinking like a migraine where you just have to kinda wait it out… poor little bby man would be like ah 🥺 “sweetheart, I know you’re hurting..”

or even just like reverse the roles him being sick and just wanting you there constantly. Then being like no, I don’t want to get you sick. Then where are you going I want you

emmy darling this is so adorable! domestic!elvis is my weakness, and i’m currently coming down with a cold so this’ll be extra fluffy <3

tw: slight age gap (reader is 20)

“ ya okay pumpkin?” he calls out from the dining room, with a craned neck and falling smile

it’s poker night for elvis & the mafia, and by poker night i mean it’s nearing 1am and they are still scream-talking like it’s light out

after sitting on elvis’ lap for a couple rounds and then attempting one yourself, the buzzing headache lingering in the back of your brain had moved to put pressure on your eyes. a scratchy throat also emerged, followed by little sneezes throughout; whatever cold you had was coming in and coming in fast

“i’m okay e, ‘m just not feeling too well” you whimper out, trying not to cry on the couch in front of your boyfriend and all his buddies. you can’t help it, when you’re sick you cry; and getting babied never hurt anybody….

the scraping chair causes your eyes to flutter open, slightly bothered by the bright neon lights shining above you. the boys have seemed to stop talking, or at least whisper, and you hear them packing up their things & leaving one by one with a “g’night ep! bye y/n, hope ya feel better” in some variation

you look to the right of you, and here comes elvis, strutting over and leaning down onto his knees beside you with a small crack and an “aw fuck!”

“honey .. ya got any room up there? i just fucked up my knees” he’s joking of course but he’ll do anything to make you laugh; even if it means poking fun at himself; your older man

you giggle softly, always happy to see him smile but even that hurts your head, and so you start to sniffle and slowly cry

“aw baby whas’ the matter?” elvis coos, reaching out to hold you close, holding your head to his neck. you rest there, just letting him hold you as you sniffle little tears from feeling so restless in your oncoming cold

“m-my head hurts and and my throat hurts and i i can’t stop sneezing” you manage to get out through tears…. and being squished between his shoulder and neck…

“oh well ‘m sorry honey, lemme help you ‘kay? do you wanna go up to bed or stay down here tonight baby?” you nod at the idea of staying on the couch; anything to not move right now. he starts to stand up moving to the wall to slowly bring the lights down; no trace of light besides the lawn lights softly peering in through the window

elvis returns to your side once again kneeling beside you and resting his arms on the couch, gazing over at you while softly twirling your hair “there… ‘s that better baby?”

again you nod, feeling yourself get sleepy, but never able to get there because of the pounding headache. you sneeze; a pitiful little sound, and try to get comfy under elvis’ watchful gaze

when you look up at him, he’s got the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. all sad because he hates seeing you sick, but happy cause he wants to take care of you.

“alright lil mama here’s what we’re gonna do, i’m gonna go getcha some water and your p’jamas and you’re gonna stay there all cute and still-like, okay sweetpea?” you nod, your throat hurts too much to respond

your eyes close as you hear his footsteps traveling all around the house, when they eventually land back in front of you.

he’s got his pajamas on, and he brought down your matching ones (he loves to match with his pretty girl, what can he say?)

“okay honey sit up, c’mon” he instructs while pulling your dress and clothing off to put those warm silk pjs on; had he placed them in the dryer?

there’s nothing sexual about it, just a man loving and wanting to take care of the woman he shares his life with. these little bits of intimacy come so often with elvis; hand holding, lap sitting and head kisses are his favorites

“e, i love you thank you” you scratch out, voice hoarse as he hands you a cup of water to drink from

“shhhhh… i love you too angel, but no more talkin’ okay? go on getcha rest” as he moves his hands up to your temples, softly rubbing them and relieving all tension in your head

you fall asleep like this, holding his forearm that rubs sweet circles into your temples, him staring up at you like a goddess covered in moonlight before he eventually falls asleep, still on the floor, still as close as he can be to his “sick lil baby”(he affectionately calls you this the next morning)

#poured my heart and soul into this #dr john carpenter this is for you i need you#why can i kiss him #why why why why #want my babyyyy #elvis in my eyes <3 #elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis headcanons #austin elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis #elvis x y/n

550 notes · View notes

emblazons · 6 months

Text

Neil winning a Golden Joystick Award (one of many for BG3) & talking about how Astarion is a survivor, how he’s inspired people to face their own trauma & finishing his speech with this is a gift, I won’t forget it…friends in need you to know I am fully in an actual puddle of tears

#it’s such a great day ugh #BEN STARR ALSO WON FOR CLIVE #seeing the people who poured their heart and souls into these games win means so much to me #because their work has done so much for me too jsksnbe 😭#astarion my beloved #neil newbon #astarion #bg3 #games

623 notes · View notes

zipstick-art · 8 months

Text

spooky season is upon us

happy 30th anniversary to the x files!

bonus: different versions under the cut

#i fucking poured my heart and soul into this thing. hashtag worth it #fox mulder #dana scully #mulder and scully #txf #the x files #x files #xf30th #txf fanart #txf art #the x files fanart #x files fanart #x files art #my art #my ramblings

613 notes · View notes

luxmoogle · 2 months

Text

The news about AI scraping also reaching this nook of the internet (tho' I don't doubt there's been scraping already before this) has been going around and I'd like to write a little word about my feelings on it.

For awhile this direction of art theft in the art and writers communities has been weighing a lot of people down. I've seen many familiar faces stop posting at all, probably out of fear of their beloved work being thieved away.

I don't really talk about it, but many times it has deterred me from posting or even working on some pieces purely from a sense of melancholy and sadness. Every time news about the topic comes out it creates a new kind of wave of despair. I get the feeling, what's the point, if the AI created sludge is enough for the public, if such surface level imagery fulfills peoples wants for art, then what's the point of me sharing my work at all? To just keep posting to feed a machine.

But then I sit at my desk and draw something. Paint something by myself. And I remember, why I do art at all. The feeling of creating is irreplaceable, the joy I get out of the struggle of creation can't be taken away from me. The way one pours their thoughts, feelings and even the tiniest things that might feel so insignificant to oneself so candidly onto paper. And then. AND THEN. One might be brave enough to share those pieces to others. Post them online, show a friend, a family member. To show your vulnerable self to others, and those others respond. They comment, ask questions, perceive it and best of all... ..might get inspired, and create something for themselves!

I remember reading a magazine once, that had a page at the back with all these art works readers had sent in, and I though 'wow, these are great'! And that really inspired me to create more than I already was doing, and most of all to share it with people. That's why way back when I started sharing my art in online spaces. And I don't want to stop, because I don't want us to lose that connection. That human connection, because that's what sharing art is really about, our humanity. Sharing thoughts and feelings, not about generating the most technically perfect piece of art, void of all human error.

So, I'd like to say, do not despair (but keep fighting). There are always people out there to receive your heart.

Thank you for reading and sorry for the ramble, but I really do hope these words find you all well.

#my ramblings #not kh #not kingdom hearts #text post #I feel a little silly posting this manifest on a fanart blog #but I do think one pours their soul into it as well #I know I do #ooc #or finally IN character?#not as the moogle

323 notes · View notes

maranescence · 13 days

Text

[POTENTIAL MURDER DRONES SPOILERS AHEAD]

Felt impulsy and fan service-y, so I drew a few more screenshot redraws of MD Episode 7 but with @lumineary-arts ‘s Murder Drones Swap AU, since it’s a lot of fun! However, I mainly went along with what we know about her AU so far, tho, so I didn’t include other details like Swap!N and Swap!Cyn’s other parent (who would take canon Nori’s place). I’d leave it to the AU’s creator.

I HIGHLY doubt Nate/Swap!N would tell Z/Swap! Uzi to “die mad”, I feel like he would apologize and genuinely feel guilty for sacrificing himself in front of her after she witnessed T/Swap!Thad do the same thing. Also I honestly loved how the solver symbol turned out! It isn’t perfect, but it sure looks great tbh! Also as some of you might know, backgrounds aren’t my strongest suit 😂

This one was pretty simple, but I am SHOOK at how in-canon this turned out to look. If you zoom out really far, it almost looks like a photo from the actual show! This particular screenshot probably isn’t highly significant in the plot, but I thought that Maid V’s appearance in the episode was an excuse to draw Butler Thad (since V and Thad switch places), who of course is just a mere hallucination produced by the Solver here (unfortunately). Since the artist stated that the solver was Russian-speaking in this AU, I guess that it would imply that Butler Thad in this episode would speak the same language!

Finally (my favorite one so far), the girl bosses ever! I’m kinda proud of how this turned out but HOLY HELL drawing the school bus was hard for me. I kinda got a little lazy and mostly blocked the majority of it with clouds 😂 I originally planned on having Swap!Tessa stand alongside Swap!J and Swap!V with a weapon in hand to reflect on her leaderlike personality, but I decided to put her up on the bus to make her look like the lady in charge. I kinda feel like I made her look a bit too intimidating, but I wanted her to have a “girlboss” expression. Look out, SD-L!

I wish I could draw a few more, but I ran out of ideas 😅 Also reminder: I tried to stay as in canon as possible, so PLEASE don’t hesitate to correct me if I made any mistakes!

256 notes · View notes

edkerberos · 9 months

Note

Hello dear friend! If you would like a request from me, poease can I get some wholesome Sniepr/Spy? I love the way your style has evolcved and I love the way you draw them :) ! Thanks! :)

hi!!!! :D !!!!!!!!! i want you to know that this touched me so much that it almost made me cry :'D !!!!!! it makes me so happy to hear that you like my art! thank you so much for your kind words! i am more than happy to do a request from you! i drew this little scenario i came up with into a sort of comic-esque format, though i am unsure if it still counts as wholesome... i tried my best anyway :') !!! i hope you like it! :-) (see the rest under KEEP READING!)

(p.s. i wrote this post and accidentally undo'd everything so i had to rewrite everything......... but i lost the alt text that i wrote :') !!!!!!! i spent half an hour on those!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i am so distraught and tired that i will write them in the future instead... sorry!!!!!)

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #spyper #bloody suit #sorry if it is a little inconsistent #i drew this over the course of three days :')#i poured my heart and soul into it for you baba!!!!!#also double sorry for my handwriting ........ !!!#there was supposed to be another 'panel' that depicted the deer running away but i gave up trying to draw the deer forgive me #Ask Kerb #<- I forgot D:

972 notes · View notes

anlian-aishang · 1 year

Text

He could feel you staring. And indeed, you were. God, you sighed to yourself, he was so fucking beautiful.

tags: levi x reader, angst, smut, hurt-comfort, gun mention, injury descriptions, self-sacrificial thoughts, caretaking, insecurity [felt by levi], body worship, canonverse, fem!reader.

word count: 5400

It was a miracle you found them, even more miraculous that Hange did not snipe you first. Over the barrel of the gun, their hazel eyes ran bloodshot. A murderous, fight-or-flight fear you had never seen on the commander’s face. If not for the moonlight that outlined your surrendering hands, surely, you would have joined the two corpses on the ground between you both.

“Hange!!” Your frantic scream scared sleeping birds off their branches. Flaps of their wings matched the spasms in your nerves. “It’s me!”

Your ears picked up the graze of metal as their finger twitched along the trigger. Eyes focused in to meet theirs in promise. Your jaw fell further, not at the proximity between you and death, but at the single tear that slid down their cheek. Trauma spilling over Hange’s bright and bubbly facade.

They lowered the rifle with a sigh, one you could see in the thick white cloud of their breath. With an exhausted exhale, beneath their hood, they offered.

“Do you want to see him?”

// // //

Hange walked slower than you would have liked. On the other hand, they probably thought you were going too fast. They had not had the time to blink, let alone sleep, in days. It was what you reminded yourself as you dampened your pace for their sake, the sedative to your aching legs, yearning to sprint to him.

They made intentional small talk, asking how your intelligence missions were going - wondering if you had a good grasp on what the Yeagerists were up to. Of course, it was all pointless now. Obviously, Floch and his faction had succeeded. The end of the world had already started.

The commander could tell, and you knew that they could. They would not ask you such blatantly meaningless questions, unless there was something to hide.

“Hange,” your voice was deathly low, “just tell me.” Eye contact deliberately, mutually avoided. “How bad is it?”

Another heavy sigh. Twigs crunched beneath boots. A silence that felt like forever, that almost spoke for itself. Hange looked to the starry sky above, and for a moment, your heart sank. Is he…?!

Hange shot you a smirk, pained but genuine. “He’s a tough lil guy, isn’t he?”

He’s alive.

“Anyone else would be sauteed to bits, and to be honest -” Hange parsed, “- I still can’t figure out how he made it.”

Sauteed. Fire? Bits. An explosion?

“I can only think -” they gave a loose tug of their hair tie, “- it’s because he’s an Ackerman.”

You had not put it all together, but the bloodstained patch of grass, the worn handle with lone fingers attached, the bodies of former comrades rotting outside - all the traces you tracked along your journey here painted an awfully vivid picture. Through those tiny details, you constructed the larger story. Levi had been targeted, and if not for Hange’s intervention, your partner would have been murdered by either Zeke’s or the Yeagerists’ hands.

Yet, in the commander, you could sense a tremendous guilt. Blinded by Levi’s current critical condition, or perhaps the recent killings of their subordinates, they saw themselves as no hero. Finally, you recognized why Hange was slugging along: a delay. Conscious or not. Procrastinating the revelation of the new Levi to his old lover.

While they wallowed in their own failures, you only saw their successes. Each trudge of their steps against the earth felt heavy, you longed to lighten them, to have Hange see themselves as the savior they were.

“No, Hange.” A gentle hand to their back. They startled, then soothed, at your touch. “It’s because of you.”

With hesitation, they finally met your gaze. Their skin a staunch pale even in this pitch black night. A stark frown, regrets within. And Levi would not have liked that.

“He’s alive, not because of his last name, but because of you.” Your delicate touch morphed to a fierce grip, shaking them. “Hange, please,” clenched teeth, quivering lip, “you know that, right?”

Certainly, they were smart enough to know that.

Hange pushed a single finger to their glasses, “Y…Yeah.”

“Hange.” Your smile was both sincere and serious. You clutched their hand with both of yours and squeezed, “Thank you.”

They cleared their throat and swallowed, an awkward, guilty laugh. “Maybe you should save your thanks until you see him.”

// // //

Nauseous with both fright and excitement. Anxious as you anticipated touching him, counterbalanced with the fear of causing him further pain. Relief as you watched his chest rise and fall. Disheartened at how labored those breaths were. The emotions you felt at his sight, all but indescribable.

Considerate as you always were - even to your own detriment - it was what everyone loved about you, especially him. Knowing how defeated Hange felt, and in the wake of all the reassurance you had provided them on your walk, you knew all your comforting efforts would have been dismantled if you started to break down. Subduing yourself, you clenched fists at your sides and dug your nails into your palms. Trembling lip dipped beneath your teeth, biting down to still. Toes curled within your leather boots, stabling yourself as knees began to buckle.

Witnessing your reunion, emotions were contagious to Hange. They artificially lifted their voice and offered instructions - a thin veil of distraction. “Well!” Hange gleamed, “He’s been out for a couple hours now, ever since Eren's… well, you know.”

That was one way to put it.

“I really have no idea when he’ll wake up, but he will.” Hange promised. “If he doesn’t get up on his own, you may have to help him. Bandages need changing in a few.”

Bandages? You had yet to notice until then. Upon entering the camp, you froze the moment you saw him. At that distance, he was just a bundle of blankets. You brought your sleeve to your eyes and wiped away the blur, and only then did you see the gauze that engulfed his face.

Another pang of nausea. Mouth gaped to sob. You threw your forearm over it. A contrived cough to conceal your reaction, it failed.

Behind you, Hange frowned. This time, it was their turn to cup your shoulder in their hand. In your peripheral vision, they pointed to a decorated tree stump. “When you do, make sure to clean his wounds first.” Atop the makeshift table, an even more crude construction was this mobile infirmary. Missing even the bare minimums of battlefield first-aid. More horrific than not: black thread, long needle. Thin vial of clear liquid was significantly less than full. Its alcoholic sting, you swore you could smell it from here. The thought of pouring that shit on him made your stomach flip again.

“If you didn’t come, I was going to have to do it,” they chuckled this time, instead of severity, Hange used a lighthearted approach to comfort you, “but I’m sure he’ll be more receptive to you putting him through pain! It seems you’ve got the magic touch.”

If Levi was awake, oh - a swift ass-beating that would’ve been, but you were much more merciful, happy to share a harmony in crude humor. A moment of blissful ignorance in an ignorant, humorless world. Your smile widened to a grin and you tossed a playful shoo, “Get out of here, you.”

You had not expected them to take you seriously. Hange smiled contentedly, turned on their heel, and strode even deeper into unexplored forest. A dramatic shift in mood as you swerved from joking to panicking, “Wait - where are - what are - where are you going?”

Hange shrugged their shoulders, palms turned up to the sky. No slow in their pace, not even a glance back to you as they called, “Can’t save the world on no sleep!”

As their figure grew tinier, your jaw that had fallen open gradually began to close. Their footsteps faded away, from faint to silent. Whether they eventually flopped from fatigue or continued their stride, you never found out for sure. You saw how exhausted they were, mentally and physically. At the same time, you could only imagine the pressure and responsibility they must have felt. Insomnia or collapse? Likely a coin flip.

And just like that, the two of you were alone.

// // //

Survivor’s guilt, you were familiar with. After this long in the Scouts, among those you knew, those who had experienced it outnumbered those who had not. You yourself had lost count of your diagnoses.

But what the fuck was this?

He had not died. He wouldn’t die, that’s what Hange said. You had not taken your eyes off him, not for one moment, and his breaths were as recognizable as your own. Undeniably alive, so why were you grieving?

Perhaps it was regret. Without him there to talk you out of it, you wondered why you shouldn’t feel any and spiraled into its acupuncture. If only you had been at the right place at the right time - there were so many chances to stop it! You could have overheard any conversation about the wine and warned him: stay the hardass captain, the wine’s dangerous! More intelligence about Zeke could’ve shown you how reckless he was, and if you had communicated that to Levi, he would’ve known better than to bring thunder spears anywhere near him. Fuck, even if you had just been there! Maybe you could have thrown yourself between Levi and the explosion. Better me than him.

Your hand snapped to your head and seized a punishing pull of your hair. You knew better than to think such thoughts. Not even for your own sake, but for his: he wouldn’t want you to feel that way!

It was disrespectful to him, and let us respect the wishes of the dead.

You fucking idiot, he’s not dead!

Angst of this intensity, at any other time, you would scream, throw things, thrash about. But with your insomniac sound asleep beside you, you would not even allow yourself that release. All you could do was mewl silently, rip grass from the ground, and hug your knees to your pitted chest.

That lasted a couple hours, and it may have even longer, but the chill hit you like an early winter. Goosebumps had pricked your skin, chattering teeth had become audible. And if you were cold - he must be freezing.

Selfish. Selfish! You chastised yourself as you stood from your stone turned seat. Seemed like there was some spare wood from whatever Hange’s latest project was, you set it gently atop the fire, cringed when it collapsed with a series of clatters. You winced and checked on Levi. Still sound asleep. The last two logs, you set them on the side closest to him, simultaneously the least and most you could do to keep him warm.

But was it?

He looked so tiny on the forest floor so vast. So lonely on that slate of tarp. The crickets began to chirp: there’s room for you, too.

Still, you stood there debating. Weighing internally: better to lay beside him or leave him be? You did not want to wake him, for he appeared to be in a semi-comfortable peace. At the same time, each time he shivered, you felt your veins run cold with responsiblity. Not doing a very good job at the whole caretaking, significant other task.

Nature made the choice for you. A merciless gust of wind hissed through the trees, breaking branches along the way. Acorns and twigs tumbled to the ground with the gravity of heavy hail. Icy was its howl, providing only seconds of warning before the sharp drop in temperature. Almost immediately, the captain whimpered himself awake and bunched the blanket to his body. Even faster, your sprint to his side.

Like a survivor to a raft, a plant to spring rain, that was how you clutched him. “Levi…” you soothed, “Levi, it’s me.”

Trying to open his eyes, eye, induced a splitting headache. Thankfully, his hearing had recovered from the piercing explosion and was able to recognize: it was you. Throat scathed dry, Levi failed to summon a response. The apple of his neck twitched in his attempt at a swallow. Water.

In the pocket of your cape, a full canteen, “Thirsty?”

A subtle nod was all he could muster. Mouth sealed off, streaks of red tainted the white gauze, you supposed it was time. Time to strip off his bandages, to see him again, to learn what had happened.

Hange had debriefed you. There was no need to ask. His pupil was a lens through which you could see it all. The disbelief still raw, the disappointment in himself, the trauma glazed over. Curiosity screamed within you, longing to know everything from the tiniest details to the major events. Louder, though, was your urge to tend to him - and you knew that an interrogation was not the right remedy.

There was something more subtle, and perhaps even more telling than words.

“Levi, let me see.”

Hesitation.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Normally, he would slip in a snide remark. His own take on a joke. Tonight, it wasn’t there.

But you were right, it was time. He felt disgusting. Gauze glued to his face - blood and sweat - the neat freak squirmed. The cool air of a wilderness night and spring water down his throat sounded most refreshing.

Refreshing - like the new perspective you would have of him. Levi had not seen himself yet, but based on the immense pain he felt, his face of all places, he knew it couldn’t be pretty. In that way, perhaps it would have been easier if it was Hange. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him, but you were the only exception. You alone could scare him, the fear of how you would react to your lover turned monster.

Slowly, you reached to your hip and unsheathed your dagger. Trustworthy eye contact silently conveyed that you would cut him free. Levi answered with a slow blink, an attempt at a smile, an attempt that was quickly retracted by his newly irritated nerves. They screamed at him for it, he subdued them by digging his nails - all eight of them - into his palms. With a mere fraction of his face visible, your ever stoic Levi looked even more so. His mouth completely covered, you misread his response. Your first hint towards a long road of recovery ahead, your relationship forever altered.

You crawled behind him and aligned your arm with his spine, “Can you sit up for me?” Like a true combat nurse, you did not wait for an answer before getting to work. Slow but sturdy, you lifted him just enough so that you could get to his nape. Though your care was tender, his reaction was harsh: sharp hisses and exasperated groans. It saddened you, how these strained grunts no longer frightened you - you had heard so much worse from both him and others.

At the tail of his undercut, you pinched Hange’s knot and lifted the ties from his scalp. An inch of space, you slipped the point of your blade between them. New breeze on his most sensitive spot, knife at the back of his neck, Levi shuddered in your arms.

“Don’t worry,” you rubbed your palm against his shoulder, “I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you.” I won’t let you get hurt anymore.

One swift swipe! You slit the gauze, almost like pulling a zipper. Hand on his thigh, you pivoted to his front. Left hand was both hasty and soft, pulling the wrapping from the top of his head all the way past his chin.

The mask was off.

With his face now unveiled, you withdrew a handful of inches. A habitual up and down to evaluate his state, just like he trained you.

The irises that snared you, there was now only one of them. Fresh stitches. Unforgiving black pierced his ivory skin. Crimson blood between the threads. A red so raw, you knew it was never meant to be seen.

Your throat tightened, the words retched out. “It’s not -” you swallowed, “- that bad…”

A bad liar, you always were. Adorable at other times, gut-wrenching now. You had totally frozen, and all he could do was blink helplessly in wait for you to accept him. In those few seconds, voices in his head made a thousand comparisons. Uglier than a titan. More jarring than a corpse. All the shit you’ve seen, and you’ve never reacted like this. As your eyes glassed over, his reflection became even clearer to himself, confirmed his fears: hideous, he was hideous.

Even though you stared, you gawked, he could not blame you. In fact, blaming you was his furthest thought, far beyond his first: blaming himself.

“I’m sorry.” Levi whispered. “I’m sorry.”

No. I’m sorry. Again, you ran through all the ways you could have prevented this. If only you had spied better. If only you had been there! He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

“I really…” Levi sniffed, his voice raspy, “I screwed up.” A single, silent tear rolled down his cheek. Then another, and another. “...stupid, fucking stupid.”

Seeing him cry always made you do the same. This time, though, your typical techniques left you. This Levi was unrecognizable, not just his physicality, but his personality as well. Even after the bloodiest expeditions, you had never seen such defeat in him before.

Levi barred his teeth, blood had pooled in his lower lip and leveled with the rim. As tears spilled into open wounds, stinging relentlessly, he did not even flinch, for he felt he deserved it. Not just because he had put himself in that lethal situation, but because he had killed his former self - the only version of him anyone had ever loved - your soulmate.

“Levi…” your fingers ran down his chest, extra delicate this time. Beneath your touch - its insinuation familiar - his heart fluttered, “you deserve to feel good.”

Despite your kindling fire, Levi remained cold at your contact and stayed startlingly still. He couldn’t even meet your eye contact, instead, choosing to stare straight down at your knees, as if needing to absorb and accept that you were actually knelt before him.

His words wavered, but his voice was a constant low. Hardly audible. Deeply depressed. “You… still want me?”

Instant, unfathomable heartbreak. Chills, widened eyes, and a ringing in your ears, disbelief at what you had just heard. Against his chest, your fingertips dwindled. Overwhelmed with pity, nevertheless, he still could not bear a glance towards you.

“Levi,” you cupped his cheek, beckoning his gaze. Tilting your head, a smile both teasing and kindred, “don’t tell me you’ve got amnesia, too?”

He scowled - halfway between too soon and smitten admiration. Only you would dare test him at a time like this.

“Cause it seems you’re forgetting all we’ve been through already.”

In each other’s eyes, everything came flooding back. The death of his squad and the months of ensuing grief. The broken leg that held him back from the tower, Eren’s capture, and the rescue mission - the one that costed Erwin’s arm and many more their lives. The return to Shiganshina, even fewer - including the late commander - returned from. Tremendous weights both physical and emotional, you had always been there to shoulder them with him. This was just another one of those spells, and you were a veteran by this point.

“Prim and proper without any problems… that’s not the you I’m used to.” Curled knuckles tucked stray locks neatly behind his ear. Nails scratched the cusp on the way, summoning shivers from the man beneath you.

You took his hands in yours. Fingers intertwined, two were notably missing. No matter, you concentrated, determined to hide your adjustment to this new hold.

“What I am used to, though, is the way you’ll recover - even stronger than before.” You tugged his hand to your lips and spoke gently, confidently against them, “You always have.”

Levi shook his head and grit through clenched teeth, “I don’t know if I’m coming back from this one, sweetheart.”

Indeed, the path forward was hard to see. His body had been torn to true shreds. The Ackerman bloodline was gifted, but they were human. Regeneration of his sight and his grasp were impossible. Humanity’s strongest soldier had been knocked down a permanent rung.

Suddenly, you feared that the superlative title had done him more harm than good. Love was not something you measured, and his combat abilities meant nothing to you, least of all now. Who said he had to climb that particular ladder? Why must he be a Scout first and person second? Levi had embodied the hope of humanity - and you could not blame the population for placing their faith in him. However, you were not just another member of the population. And to you, Levi was far more than his labels. Foremost, he was alive and he was yours.

He’s alive! He’s yours!

“For fuck’s sake, Levi…” tears fell, your smile rose, the words tumbled out, “all you have to do is breathe and that’s already enough.” Tenderly, you hooked your fingers over the seam of his blanket and tugged down. Shamelessly, your gaze swallowed him, relishing in his flushed chest and its heightened pulse, “and look at you, you’re already doing that.”

The end of the world, nearly the end of his life, but your tears were what broke him.

It started with a couple shakes of his head. Matted bangs fell over his features, but the shaking of his body and his crackling voice revealed all. Levi pulled his hand from your grasp and clutched his wrinkled forehead. Thumb ground his temple, a coping technique from childhood. A few deep breaths, after then, rattled and shaky: the telltale start to his breakdowns.

Salted tears poured into his split lip. On instinct, your thumb seeped into his mouth, replacing the burn with your sweet taste. God, how he needed it.

He needed it. He needed it. A painkiller, but not a pill. Warmth, but not a blanket. To be loved, adored, and made to feel useful, no matter what it was he could do. He could hardly talk, could not even sip water on his own. But there was one thing you knew he could do, one thing that would lift his spirits, if only the length of an endorphin release.

A smile both sweet and seductive, innocent and intimate. “You’re going to make me cum. I’m gonna make you feel good.” One hand on his stiffening lap. One hand on his cheek. “And I’ll show you that you can still do both.”

// // //

It was not the same, and you would not pretend that it was. Not worse, just different. Even better in some ways.

Inexplicably adorable. Learning to work with his left hand, he would lift his right hand to your buttons only to halt halfway and switch to the other. Pure, flustered concentration as he learned to communicate with his non-dominant hand, the most intimate practice possible. In the glaze of moonlight, his red blush radiated. Internally, he cursed the buttons and belts of the Scout uniform. Externally, he released exasperated sighs and frustrated moans. Undressing you used to take seconds, but after many minutes, your shirt was only halfway undone. Despite his mental irritation, it seemed neither of you truly minded: your arousal stirred with anticipation, his pupils dilated as he savored every second - every inch of your skin. Sex taking longer, who would complain about that?

Extra weak. Each of his movements was accompanied by shakes, emphasizing the efforts he put into making love to you. Twitches in his reawakening muscles kept his touch active, keeping things exciting. His vice grips of your skin had melted to grazes and dances. His squeezes no longer cut off your circulation, but coerced blood into every capillary. Entirely conscious, desperately yearning for more. You realized: it was not his strength that overcame you, but the craving that faint touch incited. Exerted grunts and curses under his breath were melody to the hum of mosquitoes and crackle of campfire. The most surprising setting to be spicing up your sex life.

Hyper-sensitive. The strain embedded in every motion had unraveled him quickly. And then there was you. Licking his wounds, tracing your tongue along his scars, you had thrown him off the tightrope balance of pain and pleasure, leaving him to scream in freefall. Teeth grazed his jawline, drawing screeches that felt sinful to listen to, but that didn’t stop you. Lips on his navel drew back-breaking arches of his spine. Acute and uncontrollable rolls of his hips. Touch-starved. Love-deprived. The feeling of unworthiness made every bit of affection that much more treasured. Every touch, a lightning bolt. Each wake, a calm. Mini orgasms wherever, whenever you felt him.

So conscious of his body, of his injuries, your diligent attention revealed perfections you never noticed before. Tendons in his arms cast contrasting shadows over his skin, they flexed with every sensation he felt and every one he provided.

You had always assumed it was the color of his eyes that was so magnificent, and indeed it was a lovely shade, but it was his angular brows and straight lashes that highlighted them so beautifully.

New appreciation for his muscles - not just eye candy, not just strength - but their persistence and importance in keeping him alive. Across his abdomen, seamless symmetry, pair after pair of ridges. Overstimulated sweat covered and complimented every curve, his own spotlight.

Your goal was to kiss every inch of him, make love to every inch of him. Lips curled to meet his crevices, leaving saliva and praise all throughout your path. “You’re perfect, Levi.” Again, you were crying. Tears dripped to his skin, medicine. “Perfect.”

Having danced with death, Levi was also experiencing a new infatuation with you. After hours of seeing nothing but black, your body was a constellation to explore. He had lost some digits, but two were enough to run his fingers through your hair. Smooth skin invited his hands to savor you, further welcoming with your singing nerves and satisfied sighs. Likewise, after hearing nothing but silence, your whines and whispers moved mountains within him. When he felt so broken, so useless, you managed to lift him up. You tugged him free from his constraints and marveled at his livelihood. Long and admiring was your stare at his erection, forcing him to acknowledge the proof that one thing still worked.

Labored was his attempt to sit up, to take hold of you, but you placed your palms to his pecs and pushed down, “Levi, it’s okay.” Leaning over, your breast met his chest as your lips fell beside his ear, drawing shudders as you cooed, “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Mindfully, you reversed the roles: using him as a crutch, signaling his worth and aid to you. By your hold on his shoulders, you sturdied yourself as you lowered your sex down onto his lap. You were ready. Your bodies were ready. Anticipation clearly coated his cock from tip to base. Your folds yearned to be filled, drooling onto your thighs with hunger.

The back of your hand grazed his forehead, brushing his bangs - slick with sweat - aside. Unbroken eye contact. Unbroken vows: to love each other in sickness and in health. You smiled, he nodded. You inhaled deeply. He exhaled shakily. Lowering yourself down, he pushed himself up as much as he could. Enveloping him. Within you. Together at last.

In that moment, the separation nearly felt worth it. In the sea of your love, a current of sympathetic sadism. The strife of his injuries had strung him to his last wit, making the second he entered you that much more intense. Levi strained beneath you, immaculate curses fallen past his cracked lips. Bringing Levi to tears and to the brink of bliss, you were certain there was no bigger confidence boost, no greater incentive to fuck him with all you had.

But then, when you did, you realized the true motive: how he made you feel.

Face scrunched with each rise and fall, fingernails threatened to pierce his skin. Clutching him, you stumbled through your words - breaks between your repetitions. “It - It feels… You feel…”

Levi swore his heart could have exploded with tension over what you were going to say, that was until you uttered the words that made his heart stop, “so fucking good.”

On his face, relief. Within your walls, elation. “Y-Yeah?” Levi moaned, a combination of clarification and pleasure. “F’Feels… good?”

“Oh yes, baby…” So good, you couldn’t stop. So good, you lost yourself. His passion so lively, so blinding, you nearly forgot about his critical condition. Rolled back eyes snapped open, checking on him. You nearly halted your pace and panicked, “You doing okay?”

Canines bit his lip, but its sting was washed away in your presence, captivating. Squinted eyes, narrowed brows, Levi threw his hand over his mouth and muffled himself, nodding instead.

You smirked, too cute for his own good, that was how you usually reacted. Tonight, though, after all the loathing and depreciation you had both witnessed and felt, your vision was swayed. Lightly but deliberately, you pinched his wrist and lifted it above his head. “No need to hide, darling.” Tongue pried his lips open. “Let me see you. Let me hear you.”

Levi managed just a sliver, but that shred of his silver gaze was enough. “I - I’m f’fine!” He stressed. “I… promise.”

You lowered one brow in dubious concern, but he insisted breathlessly. “Please…” he whimpered, “Please keep going!”

Finally, you rolled your head back and sighed, he asked you for something. Something you could provide. Something you could fix for your lover so broken. With this goal in reach, you shared his desire for utility. Sex was survival, evolutionary, feral. The only thing that could make you fuck a patient senseless. The only thing that could make him forget his failures. The only thing that would heal both of you.

Oh, how he needed it. So hard against your soft insides. A length that reached for the stars. Warm passion mortared with yours, inciting smacks and screams that echoed for the voyeuristic pines.

“P-Please…” Levi begged. Let me cum. Don’t leave me. Stay mine forever. He yearned to say everything, but with your tidaling sensation and his fogged mind, the most he could manage was just the one word. Louder and louder, “Please, (Y/N)...” until his own climax cut him off, “P-Plea - hah’Ahh!!”

Steep and rapid thrusts, you were made speechless - not only by the pleasure they brought within you, but by how impressive they were. So much about him had changed, and he had every reason to be lethargic, but the power he demonstrated had not faded. Your heart sang with admiration, humanity’s strongest for a reason.

You hummed, unabashedly drinking up the symptoms of his release. Well familiar with his display, your hips knew just how to match the rhythm of his convulsions. Eventually, they slowed. Eventually, he was able to open his eye again. You saw his panic, the embarrassment, having finished first. When his seed hit your furthest depths and you seized around him, though, it was wordlessly communicated: he had no regrets, nothing to be sorry for, for his climax was what brought you to yours.

Well, wordless in a sense. Your incoherent cries and broken syllables were of no lexicon, but a language he was fluent in. Eight fingers clutched your back, helping you through your last few rhythms, “Come on. Come on, I’ve got you.”

“Fuck!” You reveled. You were the luckiest person in the world. Even before the pillowtalk, in the midst of your orgasm, you could already see: no one else would mute their stinging nerves just to make you feel a bit better, no one else would prioritize your happiness over their own, no one else would share your tears in the same night they shared your bed. In this dying world, there was only one man alive who would love you as you did him. And he was yours.

All yours.

masterlist

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x you #oneshot #angst #smut #2023 #i poured my whole heart and soul and brain and caretaking knk into thi s so i hope you enjoy #anlian writes #my writing #alias's

527 notes · View notes

raineandsky · 5 days

Text

#110

tw: implied violence

For the first three seconds, the villain is absolutely certain the hero is dead.

He’s just returning from a dart across the city and isn't even 100 metres from the little front door when he spots the hero. Who on god’s green earth has left a hero on the floor, out in the open? The villains are meant to be trained better than this. They’re practically begging for attention, and on their literal doorstep. Someone’s getting a good talking to about this.

The villain approaches tentatively, leaning down to hold a hand in front of the hero’s mouth. Okay, so they’re alive. He’s not sure if that makes the situation better or worse.

He pushes the hero over slightly to try and see what on earth got them here—and whether the villain needs to worry about any split-second, lifesaving decisions—and earn an incoherent groan in response. He almost drops the hero in surprise; alive, clearly, and somewhat conscious.

“[Hero]?” The villain can’t say why that’s his first port of call. The hero’s barely awake, let alone in any state to reply. He carefully brushes the hero’s hair out of their face; he’s not sure why. “I’m gonna try to get you inside, alright?”

Another halfhearted noise. The villain punches the code into the door, shoves it open, and, as gently as no strength and an ingrained sense of apathy will allow, drags the hero into the bright white of the villains’ hideout.

No one’s around, thankfully; he’s not about to take the flak for someone else’s mistake. He dumps the hero on the floor half-gently, abandoning them there momentarily to grab a first aid kit. Villains come back in pieces more often than not—they’ve learnt to keep ways to fix themselves within arm’s reach.

The villain hurries back, kit in his arms, dropping it and himself to the ground without a care next to the hero. He’s opened the bag and shoved his hand into it before he realises he didn’t hear the door shut behind them.

His gaze snaps up to the doorway. A figure is stood there, her foot holding the door open, her eyes roaming curiously. “Hm,” she says brightly, “nice little hideout you have here.”

The villain’s on his feet immediately. He has to be—it’s not like he can deal with the hero with a stranger wandering about. “Who the hell are you?”

The stranger’s gaze finally falls on him, part intrigued, part humoured. “Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know me,” she says wistfully. “It’s been so long since I was in the field.”

The villain’s been in said field longer than most. He squints in an effort to place this random person acting like she belongs here, his hand against the sharp bump in his coat like a comfort. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

A bright smile, like the sun is invading this room and trying to blind everyone in it. “I’m [Superhero].”

The villain’s dagger is in his hand before he can even think about it. The superhero takes a half-step inside and lets the door shut behind her.

“Got your attention, didn’t it?” She nods her head to the hero on the ground. “I know you villains love your heroes… weak.”

The villain tightens his grip to stop the blade from shaking in his hand. The superhero looks mildly amused by his apprehension, as if she belongs here, as if she always has. She hums a laugh, turning her gaze onto the hero still laying on the floor. “Consider this my résumé.”

The villain’s gaze flits to the hero as well. They haven’t moved. Time is short. “You want in with us?”

The superhero positively beams like he’s solved an age-old puzzle. “I’m sure a bunch like you could find some use in an authority like me.”

The villain has to believe her. He tucks his knife back into his belt and kneels down to the hero. “Dramatic change in career path.”

“Who’s to say this wasn’t always the plan?” The superhero watches as the villain unravels bandages from a well-used roll. “You wouldn’t take me in as a novice, so I’ve made myself valuable. Wouldn’t you say so?”

A superhero genuinely being on their side is undeniably, colossally valuable. The villain carefully wraps the larger of the hero’s wounds in the dressing. Wounds the superhero has inflicted, for what? Personal gain? To prove something? Where’s the line in what she wants?

The hero makes some incoherent noise of discomfort from the floor. A smile teases at the corner of the superhero’s mouth, like this is right, like this is exactly what she wants.

The villain’s attention is so focused on keeping his hands gentle against the hero’s pain that he takes a second too long to realise the superhero is inviting herself further inside.

“What—” is halfway through coming out.“Might as well meet my future coworkers, huh?” She laughs again, like this situation is highly amusing. Like she holds the cards and she knows it. The villain hates it, but she does. “I bet they’ll love me. Everyone always does.”

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #todays the dayyyyyyy #made a post asking for beta readers!!! im so so so scared!!!!!#like i know i share my writing with yall but this is different somehow #ive poured almost 3 years of my life into this book. my heart. my soul. i was a girl when i started writing it #its been fun but its a relief that this part is over

54 notes · View notes

eeriethacus · 3 months

Text

Combining my current obssession with my past obsession? That's a half-lie, never got over Hadestown.

A lil old wip for now because I've been busy and will be busy for the next couple of weeks... but hopefully I'll be back with an aftg piece that's in the works<33

#aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #the raven king #the kings men #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #nicky hemmick #riko moriyama #jean moreau #aaron minyard #renee walker #beanarttag #i could go on an hour long rant about my thought process in this au #poured my soul and heart into this au

138 notes · View notes

taio-kyo · 2 months

Text

I normally don't self promo fanfic but umm umm look guys its juice

Not finished + mind the tags with later chapters!! I have a few silly ideas for this :]

Also thank u @/eyebaus for being a big source of inspo without your works this probably would NOT even be a thing hii hiiiii hello o/

#self promo #may delete later #depends.#ferryv2 #ultrakill #look i usually do not do this but i am going to pour my heart and soul into this #i will take this in a mature route in the next chapters so like. just be careful ok? ok #i will give you guys hot choco and tea after tho prommy #i am so silly #:33 #i may be cringe but i am free ((sobbing

61 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs