violentvaleska - Tumblr blog

violentvaleska · 27 days ago

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𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔

sɪx ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ!ʟᴇᴠɪ × ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ sᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ғʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʙʟᴇssᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴍɪᴋᴀsᴀ ʟɪᴠᴇs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴏʏ ᴏғ ɪᴛ. ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇʟᴀɴᴄʜᴏʟʏ ɪʟʟᴜsɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs: ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ғᴏᴜʀ ғɪᴠᴇ

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ: @xiernia @fangsgrr @tatiquichi @jjune-07

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜ ᴛʜɪs, ɪ'ᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ, ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴛʀᴇssғᴜʟʟ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ, ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛs ᴏғ ɪᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ :(

The midmorning light pours gently over the courtyard of the Marleyan estate, filtering through gauzy curtains that dance like whispered secrets in the breeze. The garden beyond slowly decays with the breeze of autumn, a season that usually brings freezing temperatures, yet Marley seems to enjoy the aftermath of summer a little longer. Mikasa sits curled on a cushioned divan, one hand resting absently over the gentle swell of her belly, the other cradling a porcelain teacup that steams with a floral blend.

Across from her, a woman with streaks of gray woven gracefully into her dark chocolate hair pours another serving, the teapot steady in her elegant hands.

“You glow, Mikasa.” Carla says with a soft smile.

“Just like I did with Eren. Pregnancy certainly favors you, I'm sure you will bring a healthy boy into this world.”

Mikasa gives a subtle nod, her gaze drifting past the swaying hedgerows to where two figures clash beneath the open sky. Eren and Zeke, bare-chested, sweat-slicked and wild, move with the savage grace of predators, their bodies twisting and striking in a rhythm as old as war itself. They are twin tempests, circling each other in a dance that blurs the line between rivalry and kinship. The Yeager brothers; formidable, relentless, tethered to a destiny no one fully dares to name.

From beside her, Carla exhales a soft, weary sigh. Her eyes settle on the scene below with a mixture of melancholy and quiet disapproval.

“The war is over.” She murmurs into the rim of her teacup, voice carrying the weight of a mother’s ache.

“And yet all those two can think of is fighting.”

“They’re like wolves.” Mikasa replies, her tone light but thoughtful. A faint smile brushes her lips as Eren catches her gaze across the field, gifting her with a fleeting glance; brief, but filled with meaning. Carla notices the exchange, and her lips curve into something warmer.

“He’s completely enamored with you.” She muses, her voice dipped in fondness. But the warmth doesn’t last. A shadow flickers through her eyes, softening her smile into something brittle.

“I only hope your cousin is loving my daughter the same way.”

Mikasa turns her head, meeting the Empress’s eyes with gentle certainty. There’s grace in her expression, youth and wisdom mingling in quiet assurance.

“Elise has written to me.” She says softly. “She says Levi showers her with the finest treasures Eldia has to offer.” Her words are meant to soothe, but they carry the same tenderness she wishes to receive in return.

Carla exhales, shoulders loosening just slightly.

“I’m glad the two of you correspond.” The Empress admits with a wistful smile.

“It brings me peace of mind.” Her gaze returns to the field below just in time to see Eren land a fierce blow against Zeke, a flicker of pride ghosting across her features.

The serenity is broken, a maid rushing to the side of her Mistress.

“My Empress. My Princess.” The voice cuts like a silver blade through silk. Mikasa turns sharply. Beneath the arched entrance, Pieck stands, Mikasa's ever-present maid and silent shadow. Her usually composed face is pale, and her wide eyes tremble with unspoken urgency.

“The ships have left the harbor.” She announces, voice low, tight. “They’re sailing for Eldia. It has begun.”

The air stills and Carla stiffens. The porcelain cup in her hand trembles slightly before she sets it down, forgotten. Her fingers tighten around the armrest, her mouth a thin line of dread.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa asks, though she already knows, her maid is never in the wrong, always observant. Pieck nods once.

“Porco confirmed it. He’s been ordered to lead the mission. Crown Prince Zeke gave the command late last night.” She casts a glance toward the field, to the very man now laughing beneath the sunlight, as if his hands were not stained with blood.

A chill dances down Mikasa’s spine. She grips the edge of the divan, her breath slow and careful. She knows what this means. Eren has grown quiet in recent weeks, his silences thick with secrets. She uncovered fragments of Zeke’s plan days ago; dark whispers, unspoken intentions. She told Carla at once, but even together, they couldn’t derail what had already begun to move.

Carla reaches out, her fingers brushing Mikasa’s wrist.

“Write to your cousin.” She demands softly. “Make sure he keeps my daughter safe.” And as the garden wind stirs around them, heavy with the scent of roses and distant war, Mikasa nods; heart tight, mind already racing. The peace they cling to is nothing but the breath before the storm.

Far across the sea, Eldia slumbers beneath a blanket of gray mist. Within the marble walls of Mitras, your days stretch thin, long walks in silent gardens, endless sips of bitter herbal tea, the empty sting of doctor’s appointments with no answers.

You sit before the gilded vanity, brushing your hair with a kind of hollow rhythm. The mirror offers no reassurance. Month after month passes, yet your womb remains quiet. The physicians only shake their heads

“You’re healthy, your Majesty. Perfectly able to bear children to the empire.” They would say. Yet the endless nights of intercourse have not surprised you with the wanted child. The young boy you saved from the village, who goes by the name Ramzi, is slowly starting to warm up to you. In a weird way you find solace in the boy's presence, it's like he helps you compensate for the fact that you seemingly aren't having children of your own anytime soon. In the beginning you thought he was six, turns out he is already ten, he merely looked younger because of hunger and illness, though he recovered well. You take care of Ramzi like he is your own, paying a teacher and spoiling him with toys.

Right now you take the time to read with him, showing him a book filled with pictures and stories about mythical creatures. You learn that the little boy is not eldian, but a slave from the middle east. His family died and an eldian elderly woman took care of him during their time in marleyan slavery. She died on the way to Paradise and the villagers distanced themselves from the boy, finding his darker skin complexion and accent to be offensive.

“So are titans real?” He wonders, awed by the story in your book. Ramzi gawks at the drawings, pointing at one titan in particular; the attack titan. You turn from the mirror, smiling at the boys curiosity as you place the golden brush down.

“Well the Eldians like to believe so. Ymir, the mother of all titans, is a goddess to them. Much like your god.” You explain and stand up, you undone hair falling over your shoulders in waves like a curtain. Sitting down at his side, you give a quick look at the creature that has captured the boy's interest.

“There is no other god, that's what Papa said.” Your smile falters, unsure how to react to the boy's philosophical ideas.

“Ugh, well-” without any announcements the doors to Ramzi's chambers open and Levi enters, a frown placed upon his face that doesn't look too promising.

“I need to talk to you.” He pauses, glaring at the boy that steals all your attention.

“Alone. Perhaps we should take a walk.” He offers, gesturing to the hallway outside the chambers. You nod your head, giving Ramzi the book with a gentle smile.

“Try to continue without me. If you need help, ask the nice girl who is tending to you.” You gesture to Kaya, Sashas younger sister who also serves as a maid. You stand up, waving the boy good bye as you walk with Levi, Eld and Jean just a few steps behind you.

“I'm glad the brat brings you joy. Though I must remind you that he will eventually have to enter knightship. It's common for adoptive sons and bastards to do so.” He hums, but it's clear that he only tries to talk about the unwanted child to be polite. Levi has been civil to him so far, but there is no particular warmth towards him.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, not replying to his former words, since you have the feeling that there is something much more important than Ramzi's future in court right now.

“A letter from Mikasa has reached me.” He hesitates, voice clipped and cold. You turn slowly, dread coiling in your gut. Usually there is no problem when Mikasa writes to you or your husband. It's usually a bittersweet exchange between family, a little gossip here and there, nothing too bothersome. Though you can't help the feeling that something is deeply wrong. Did someone die? Other disagreements? Perhaps something about the spies?

“What is it?” You dare to ask with an undertone of anxiety in your words, fearing the worst. Levi halts, the serious expression frozen all over his face.

“It's about your brother, Zeke. He's sending a force to infiltrate Mitras. His plan is to retrieve Reiner and Annie.” His gaze locks onto yours, unflinching. Your eyes widen, an uneasy feeling setting in your gut.

“No. He would not dare-”

"Apparently he does. We both know he has never been fond of the peace pact.” Your lips quiver at the sharpness in his voice and you slowly shake your head in disbelief, your hands forming to fists, angry with your half-brother's actions.

“And if we let Annie and Reiner go? We could prevent further bloodshed.” You argue, yet your words only seem to anger him more.

“You know I can't do that Elise. I'm not submitting to that stupid ape like brother of yours.” Levi bites back, gesturing out of the nearest window.

“See those troops on the horizon? I'm sending the fucking scouts out there for our safety. Lord Smith and Count Connie Springer are currently out there leading my knights to possible death, because your brother has a big massive manic episode.”

Speechless your watery eyes lock with a group of riding knights, slowly leaving the inner walls to secure the borders.

“I want to speak to Hange.” You declare, irritated with his harsh behavior towards you, like you are part of the problem.

“You will speak to Duke Arlert first.” Frowning you follow after Levi as he marches through the hallway, apparently walking right to your quarters.

“That young Duke from Shiganshina? Why?” You ask, confusion directed at his odd wish.

“Armin Arlert has proven to be a well solver of diverse war related problems in the past. He has been in service for Mikasa's parents in the past and is a good friend of hers.” He explains with an odd admiration for the young Duke, praising his abilities.

“He also helped expose the spies. I trust him to find a solution for this as well.” You merely nod your head, hoping that Armin Arlert has peace in mind rather than war.

When you arrive at your quarters Levi opens the door for you, gesturing for you to enter them before him. So you do; walking into your chambers with your head held high and sick feeling in your stomach, like you are about to vomit.

“Please know that I'm doing this for your own good.” You turn around, raising a brow at the weird choice of words. Levi hasn't followed you, in fact he still stands patiently in the hallway, one hand gripping the iron handle of your door. Then you notice it; the delicate key to your chambers in his hand.

“What- Levi no-”

In an instant you run to the door, but you don't make it in time, as he swings the door closed and quickly turns the key in it’s lock, closing the door shut. You try to open it forcefully, banging onto the wood harshly as you cry out; begging him to open the door, but Levi stays quiet, the only thing you are able to make out is the hushed voice of him and your guard. Jean, sworn to protect you, won't help you in this one and you are sure that Hange and Sasha won't do so either. Not even your lady in waitings would be on your side in this one. The only thing you can do now is sit down and try to calm yourself.

The door opens with a sound too soft for such a heavy moment. You don’t rise. You simply sit, poised but hollowed, at the far end of the chamber, wrapped in silence and the fading perfume of rosewater from your morning bath. The air is thick with stillness, as though even the walls have drawn a breath they are too afraid to release.

Then he enters. Duke Armin Arlert. A name stitched into court whispers and war chronicles alike. The boy who once stood on the burning shores of Shiganshina, now a man draped in the solemn poise of power. He does not bow deeply, only enough to honor your station without forgetting his purpose.

"Your Majesty." He greets, his voice quiet, shaped with care. Like a surgeon’s blade: delicate, exact, meant to cut clean without cruelty. You have seen him before, on your wedding day, though there was no interaction with the man who devoted his genius brain for war strategies.

You watch him with veiled eyes as he takes a seat across from you. There is nothing threatening in his manner, only that dreadful calm you’ve come to fear in people who’ve seen too much, survived too much. His presence is a reminder of the world you were born into, where truths are rarely kind and even questions can carry knives beneath their silken tone.

"I will not keep you long-" He begins, opening a small leather folio with fingertips that move like wind over still water. You roll your eyes at the words, knowing it wouldn't even matter if he did. "-but I do need you to speak plainly with me." You tilt your head, the faintest arch of your brow betraying your disdain.

"Is this an interrogation, or a conversation?"

"Perhaps both." The duke replies, though not unkindly. His round blue eyes offer a warmth you didn't think he would provide.

"Though I hope it leans toward the latter." He sets the folio down, steepling his fingers as he regards you with those soft, ocean-sky eyes that seem far too gentle for the purpose they now serve.

"You have had no recent contact with the crown prince of Marley, I assume?" Armin offers in a wary tone, the question certainly being layered with deeper intention.

"No." The word is clipped and clean, washing you from any fault.

"Are you certain, your Majesty? No letters, no messengers of sorts? Not even a rumor from the court?" Your gaze hardens at the potential accusations of the younger man, lips drawing into a tight line.

"I have received nothing. And if I had, do you truly believe I would keep it secret?"

"I believe you might, if it meant protecting someone you love. I am aware you are swoon by our Emperor, but love? Do not take this as an insult, your Majesty, but people assume your love for the male spy, Reiner Braun, to be greater than for your own husband.” His words hang there, suspended in the stillness like dust in a sunbeam. For a moment, it almost offends you, his assumption, his insinuation. But more than anything, it wounds you. Why would someone like him know what it's like to be in your position? You are an Empress to a land that sees you as an enemy.

"You would not know the burning of my heart that yearns for love and appreciation of a person you were taught to be the villain. And I take your assumption of me being in love with the rightfully convicted Reiner Braun to be a great insult, perhaps even the highest of treason. Hold your tongue on that matter if you want to keep it.”

Armin doesn't answer immediately. His expression calms further, like he doesn't take your threat all too seriously. He knows that the Emperor and Lord Commander Smith have a soft spot for him.

"I believe I know the burning you speak of, as I myself have found myself fallen in love with the enemy.” The confession startles you, your eyes going wide as you try to undo the knots in your head. Who could he possibly speak of?

You study him. For the first time, you realize how tired he looks, like a man who has carried too many burdens that were never his to bear. There’s something almost poetic in the way his strength is quiet, not born of brute force, but of endurance. Of understanding that some truths must be lived, not spoken.

“Are you speaking of Annie?” You whisper the question, like someone might overhear you. Knowing that's not possible doesn't matter to you either, this young man you have thought to be insulting actually might feel very similar emotions to yours. He is someone you could connect with.

Armin Arlert doesn't answer, only blushes as you caught him red handed. The fact makes you smile; the goody two shoes Duke of Shiganshina falls for the convicted spy. You would laugh if it wasn't so sad.

"You and brother-" He continues gently, finding a smooth way to change direction.

"- you share blood. And blood has a way of binding beyond reason. Right now, that bond, whether you’ve embraced it or not, is the question we must untangle." Duke Armin explains, quietly taking notes, perhaps to use your own words against you in the future.

"I have not spoken to him, not since my departure months ago.” You promise again, slower this time, letting the truth sink through every syllable.

"I would not know of his plans. I do not support them. I am a wife to Eldia’s emperor, that’s the only alliance I keep, I have taken vows in front of your goddess. I will not disrespect them, Duke Arlert." Armin leans back, folding his hands in his lap.

"I believe you." Blinking twice in surprise, you tilt your head, not having expected this from him.

"But belief does not erase suspicion. Or danger, you must understand this, your Majesty. If the palace is breached, if Reiner or Annie are taken, your name will be spoken. Whispers will turn to roars and it will not matter what you did or did not know." He explains, his words making too much sense for your liking. You haven't thought about it that way.

"I understand.” The tone in your voice is defeated, saddened by the realization. You can do nothing about your faith.

“Is there nothing I can do about it?” Armin somewhere his head, answering your question with a suffocating silence.

Defeated, you ask him to leave, finding the outcome of this interrogation too tiring. To your surprise the young Duke stands up to leave, respectfully bowing to you before he walks past you out of your chambers, making sure to lock the door shut from outside.

You cry again, the ugly kind. Your face swells red and the little veins in your eyes pop from exhaustion. Feeling unable to bear the chaos outside of your golden cage you rip your fine gowns from your shoulders and sink into your warm bed, not caring that you ripped the fine stitches of the slik. That night is the first time you refused Levi too, screaming at him in an unlady-like way, even going as far as to throw a pillow after him. He deserved it, you tell yourself, for locking you in your chambers and forcing you to talk to the Duke. If only you knew that the next night would be even worse than this one…

Night drapes the palace of Mitras in a mantle of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the eerie stillness before a storm, too quiet, too perfect. The moon casts a brittle silver glow through the high arched windows, illuminating cold marble floors and gilded pillars that glimmer faintly like sentinels keeping secrets.

The guards posted along the inner corridors barely register the shift in the wind before it is upon them. Steel flashes in the dark, a whisper of movement, the faint swish of fabric, and then blood paints the ivory stone. The Marleyan warriors do not march, they slither like shadows, striking fast, clean, and without hesitation. Under Porco’s command, the infiltration is as brutal as it is silent. Every footstep has been rehearsed, every turn mapped. They know the way. Their beloved Crown Prince Zeke made sure of it.

Porco leads the unit with sharp, determined eyes. He splits the group quickly, one set toward the lower levels, where Reiner is held in a fortified chamber. The others break off to locate Annie, though Porco knows the task is likely futile. Reports say she is kept somewhere beyond the palace walls, under Armin Arlert’s personal watch. A ghost in her own right, guarded by a devil of Shiganshina. Though he knows that some intels are not reliable and he will not leave this hell without even trying to save her.

Within minutes, Reiner is freed. His cell doors are forced open by brute force, the guards outside incapacitated before they can so much as raise an alarm. Reiner looks like a specter; thinner, slower to rise, but once he does, the look in his eyes is fire reborn. He doesn't ask questions, he doesn't hesitate. Reiner Braun moves like a man chasing the echo of his former self, and Porco sees it, that glimmer of purpose.

“You need to tell me where our beloved Princess is, Reiner. I will not leave her rotting to this man.” Porco demands, helping his comrade out of the dark dungeons.

“She has her own wing, walk through the garden with the elder tree in the middle of it. Her chambers are on the second floor.”

Porco turns down the east corridor alone, his stride tightening as he approaches the high doors of your private quarters. Reiner requested to help him, but the warrior declined. This is something he needed to do on his own. He vowed to protect you and yet he didn't when you needed him the most. To Porco the war is long but over and you, the kindhearted and timid princess of Marley are caught in the middle of it.

He follows Reiners description and silently takes out the guards in your wing, leaving a trail of blood as he walks up the stairs. The warrior is exhausted, his muscle hurts underneath the armor, but he will not break, he will keep going and save you. Like he promised himself, his wife Peak and your brothers.

The chamber is dark, only a few candles illuminate the room in warmth. They flicker along the walls, casting a gentle glow over the velvet-draped room in green. You are wiggled in blankets, sound asleep with puffy eyes from spending another evening of crying. Porco steps in, carefully walking towards you as he leans over you, a rush of anger hitting him as he takes in you change. Your hair looks to be longer and your skin is too pale. You even appear thinner, like you lost weight. While you did write letters of being happy here just a couple of days ago, he doesn't believe a word you wrote. You were locked in your chambers just now for god's sake.

When he wakes you up the terror slowly filling your eyes at your sight is not what he hoped your reaction to be. You don't make a sound, only stare at him as he pushes you out of bed in a hurry.

“Come, my Princess. I came to take you home.” You stare at your former guard in disbelief, shaking your head as you take his hand, noticing the blood on his iron armor. You gulp, wondering who of your knights had to suffer for him to reach you.

“Porco, I am not your Princess anymore. Eldia is my home now.” You hate to admit the reality, but it is what it is. You have a duty to this empire now; fleeing back to Marley would only escalate this situation further. Even worse, this might start another war again.

The warrior stares at you in disbelief, a mixture of shock and anger overcoming his features.

“But my Princess-” he calls out the name given to you by your mother, a marleyan name you haven't been called for a while now. Not even your parents addressed you by it in their letters anymore.

“My name is Elise now.” You remind the young man, taking a step back as you clutch the long sleeves of your nightgown between your fingers.

“You have to leave Porco. Take Reiner and Annie with you, but if you take me something bad will happen.” Trying to reason with him goes straight to deaf ears, as he grabs your wrist and simply pulls you after him.

“No. I promised the Crown Prince to safely return you to Marley.” You shriek at the mention of your half-brother, pulling on your arm forcefully as you try to stand your ground.

“Zeke is acting irrationally! Leave me be, Porco. If you do this you will-”

You aren't able to finish the threat as suddenly the air splits, the sound of iron slicing air cutting through the room. Porco is quick to dodge as Jean jumps him with such a force you can't help yourself but to shriek back in shock. Jean is hurt, you can tell by how the blood slowly drips from a gash on his side, a part not as well protected as his chest. Porco must have overwhelmed him earlier.

“Please don't kill him.” You blurr out to no one specific, unsure if you ment to spare Porco or Jean. The warrior and the knight throw their swords at each other, gasping and growling at each other like animals.

“Please stop.” You slur out, tears covering your vision, as you further move away from them, too scared as they move closer with their sharp blades.

You don't notice the dark figure appearing in your doorway. You don't notice it pulling a pool black sword from its hold and you don't hear it slicing through the air. The only thing you do notice is Porco gasping for air as he bags away from Jean and the figure dressed in black. A bleeding wound covers half of his face now, dripping down to color his shining armor red.

“Porco!” You cry out, trying to rush to his side with a panicked face, but the man dressed in black is faster, he swings his sword one last time, its sharp side cutting through Porcos flesh on his neck instantly, letting the blood of his carotid arteries run freely.

Not able to reach your old guard and friend in time you fall to your knees, landing in his warm blood on the ground as you catch him just in time before he hits the ground. His body is limp in your hold, his face pale compared to gashing wound and soaking red neck. His lids, heavy and sleepy, slowly form into slits as he glances at you with a far away look in his eyes. You can tell he tries to talk, but no words leave his gaping mouth, only blood. Undoubtedly his vocals and throat have been cut.

“I am sorry.” You whisper, not able to hold back the tears as they run over your cheek.

“I am so sorry, Porco.” When he drifts off into the afterlife you hold him close in your arms, not caring that you paint yourself in his death with blood and tears. You knew this would happen, there was no way even a warrior like Porco Galliard could pull off a stunt like this without being caught.

The only other sound in the room besides your desperate cries and whimpers is the heavy breathing of your husband, while he hovers over the dead body of your former guard.

“Why-” Levi gasps for air, he must have run to your wing and fought himself through to you.

“-How did he get in here, Kirstein?” He is angry, clearly so, giving the knight an aggressed glare.

“He overwhelmed me, my Emperor. I am sorry.” The taller, younger man seemingly shrinks into the ground, ashamed at the fact that he couldn’t stop the enemy from entering your quarters.

Levi spares you no further comfort, simply leaving you trenched in Porcos blood,murmuring something about Sasha having to clean up the mass and killing the other intruders. There is no comfort from Jean either, as he simply lifts you from the ground and urges you away from the body, waiting for reinforcement.

“I hope he can see past your mistake for crying over this man for your sake.” Is the only thing you register coming from Jean Kirstein's mouth before you blackout in his grip, from exhaustion or heartbreak you don't know. But your knight is right, this massacre, this betrayal will surely not be tolerated from your emperor.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot #fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #captain levi #aot fanfiction

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violentvaleska · 2 months ago

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@fangsgrr girl- love u 🥹💕

reblog if you have skilled writer friends and you're damn proud of them

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violentvaleska · 2 months ago

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@fangsgrr thanks fpr tagging <3 test says I'm stupid and an ass 😵‍💫 was fin though ^^

Tagging: @xiernia <3

Let's all be in a TV show!!!

> Do this quiz

> do this picrew (Based on urself + quiz answers)

> tag ppl

> profit.

Tags (/nf ofc):

@mxlilly @circus-of-horror @yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair @microsoupmouse @the-firefly-jar-system @punkrockinchair @theplushiesystem @coded-pup @florasolarsystem + ANYONE else who wants to join

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violentvaleska · 2 months ago

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@xiernia girl Im loving yours hehe 💕🙏 and I got Maomao so I'm not complaining either.

@fangsgrr hope you have fun <3

you are going on a blind date that pinterest set up for you, find out who will be the lucky one and how the evening will end 💌

on pinterest search the following topics and post the first pin that will show up in each category

fictional character

date / night date

gift

outfit

dessert

love quote

tags: @catchmeonyourceiling @lovethornes @daystarpoet @beaucereza @chxrrybxmbi @dolcecuore @sororygilmore @auntiejohn @binibby @bvrnesher @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @certaimromance @effortlesslysweet @aezuria @mothswan @lydiasfalling @amrplastique @peanutalergy @xoxorory @xoxoivy13 @laufeysvalentine @minorlyatfault @jjsblueberry and whoever wants to join <3

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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I wouldn't call levi daddy. Never.

But I'd call him Captain. Sir.

Those titles will get a whole lot of use in bed.

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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I often think about this exchange, especially the last shot where Levi is looking out of the corner of his eye. Like he’s making EXTRA sure that Hange isn’t upset with him, but he’s trying to be chill about it.

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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I just imagine when Erwin and Levi would live in those fancy, expensive neighborhoods with own houses. Like every single woman would try to wife Erwin up.

Erwin a handsome man, so good with the kids in his surroundings. His strict but still gentle.

Wifes will look over, because the shirt he wears just a little too tight on his strong chest and the veins on his arm pop up? It makes them faint.

He always helps to carry the bags inside, when he sees someone is struggling like the gentleman he is.

But he always declines any form of material gratitude, not to mentioned that no woman really a had a chance to wife this man up. He is married with his job.

Little did they all know, he has an eye on the daughter of his neighbor lady. The young thing, that goes to college. When you are around, his gaze holds a little extra long yours. His fingers brushing a moment longer against your own, when he takes the heavy boxes from you because, you got a few things from your old home.

From afar when no one’s watching, he looks like he would devour you whole, just when he could. Before flashing that gentle smile.

But with Levi, when Levi lived in a neighborhood like that. He is not really liked by his fellow neighbors. Always a grumpy man, flashing hard eyes to the kids who made a dare to ring by the grumpy neighbors door.

But he was surprisingly kind in his own way, when a ball flew over his fence. Giving it back to the kids with a little strict complain but ruffles their hair when they go back.

He is not the type to carry anyone’s bags inside, not when he knows they just do it for attention and playing the damsel in distress. Not when he had seen, how all those ladies could do it on their own. Just giving a nonchalant shrug.

But when you really struggle to carry something heavy and refuse to look for anyone’s help, he came over without saying anything at first, to help you get some boxes inside. You moved in into the house across from him.

He would complain but he even helps you with the furniture. Looking grumpy and as if he disliked it. But now that you were across from him, he caught himself staring out the window when he saw you in your house. Being just a little more observant than usual, to know your routines just for the case you would need him.

But when you came over to ask for tea, because you didn’t have any. Don’t get me started as he tries to figure out what kind of tea you would like, because yourself just thought he would have had the normale packaged tea like everyone else. Nahhhh, he got the expensive and good stuff and since you probably wouldn’t even know how to make it, it happens Levi makes you the tea himself.

You are literally the only neighbor he goes along with and he kinda has a eye on you, since you didn’t do anything that displeases him, not for real even when he acts like it.

He shows this through acts of service. Repairing your sink when it’s broken, bringing you tea when you are sick. Over all a slight softer look in his eyes when you are around. The ladies of the neighborhood already wondering if he ever would ask you out.

Just some random thoughts thst popped into my head 🤣💀

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔

ғɪᴠᴇ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵃᵛᵉ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ!ʟᴇᴠɪ × ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴅᴜᴛʏ ʙʀɪɴɢs ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴏɴ ʟᴇᴠɪ's sɪᴅᴇ. ʏᴇᴛ ᴀ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀғᴜʟ ᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴ ʜᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀʟsᴏ ɢᴀɪɴs ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, sʟᴀᴠᴇʀʏ, sɪᴄᴋɴᴇss, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇ ʟᴇᴠɪ, ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ ᴅᴏᴍ/sᴜʙ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴛᴏɴᴇs

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs: ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ғᴏᴜʀ sɪx sᴇᴠᴇɴ

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ: @xiernia @fangsgrr @tatiquichi @jjune-07

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ!

The weight of recent events clings to the palace walls, an unshakable shadow that lingers in every corridor, every whispered conversation. The spies, Annie, Reiner, and Bertolt, have met their fates mere days after their exposure, their carefully woven deception unraveling too quickly for your father’s intervention to reach them in time.

Annie remains imprisoned deep within the dungeons, her fate undecided. Though young, she is no innocent, her reckless search for war plans, in a time where no war had even been discussed within the court, was foolish beyond measure. A political pawn like yourself, yes, but one whose actions you can no longer justify. You wonder if she had grown too desperate, too paranoid, or if she had acted on orders no longer relevant. Either way, her choices have sealed her fate.

Reiner’s condition is far worse. He rots in the same dungeon, wounded, fevered, and barely clinging to life. You know he has been tortured for information, his once formidable presence reduced to nothing more than a broken shell of the man who once stood at your side. There is little you can do for him beyond pleading for his survival, though your words hold little sway. Levi refuses to entertain any discussion of his fate, dismissing the matter entirely. And truthfully, you cannot blame him. You don’t even know if Reiner’s assignment to you had been coincidence or carefully arranged by your family.

And then there was Bertolt. A ghost of a man you had never known, yet one whose role had been just as crucial. Sent to Eldia at the tender age of eleven, he had spent years gathering secrets. While Annie found her place in the palace and Reiner earned the position of your guard, Bertolt trained among the soldiers stationed at the walls, his quiet nature allowing him to blend in seamlessly. His reports had fed your father’s strategies for years; until he was caught. For that crime, Levi sentenced him to death, his execution carried out seven days later.

But the betrayal within the palace had not ended with the spies. Miche, once a trusted section-commander, had let his grief and anger fester into something dangerous. His punishment had been swift, though Levi had shown him a shred of mercy, he was not executed but instead exiled, stripped of his title, his command, and sent to the farthest reaches of the empire where rebellion still burned. It was a fate worse than death for a man like him.

Now, in the wake of all that had transpired, Levi had placed a new set of eyes upon you. A supposed advisor, though her true role was unmistakable. She was there to watch you. To ensure your loyalty. To report your every move back to the Emperor. When Levi introduced her, you had thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Her name is Hange Zoë.

She had greeted you with a grin too wide, eyes too sharp, a presence too loud to belong within the confines of a royal court. She was nothing like the polished nobles you had grown accustomed to, nor did she pretend to be. “His Majesty thought you needed, ugh, supervision.” She had said, her tone light, though the meaning beneath it was clear.

You had expected to despise her, to resent the leash Levi had placed upon you. But Hange was, well, different. There was an energy about her, a curiosity that burned brighter than any courtly intrigue. She did not scheme in hushed voices, nor did she weave empty flattery into her words. No, she was something else entirely; unapologetic, unpredictable, and impossibly intelligent. It was no wonder Levi tolerated her eccentricities, loyalty like hers was rare afterall.

Still, her presence at court was met with nothing but disdain. She was not of noble blood, nor did she possess the refined decorum expected of an advisor. The lords and commanders were quick to voice their displeasure, none more so than Lord Commander Dok.

“She will plant nonsense in the Empress’s head.” He had sneered, his words a thinly veiled attempt to disguise his true concern, that Hange’s presence would prevent others, like himself, from planting their own influence. His youngest daughter, Lady Louisa, had been placed as your lady-in-waiting for that exact purpose. A quiet reminder that even within your own court, your movements were carefully observed and shaped. A shame, really.

But for now, you have no power to change your own circle. Not yet at least. With the shift in court, new faces now surround you, each one carrying the weight of past betrayals and future uncertainties.

Mina, a young maid with diligent hands and a nervous energy, has taken Annie’s place in tending to your husband. Her efforts, though earnest, are met with little more than Levi’s irritated sighs and sharp critiques. You’ve caught her crying more than once, shoulders shaking as she tries to quiet her sobs after yet another complaint about how his uniform wasn’t folded to his liking or how the tea was too hot or too cold. You pity her, but you do not interfere. Levi does not demand perfection out of cruelty, he has simply been shaped by war, by hardship, by a life where failure meant death. Mina has yet to understand that.

She is not the only new presence in your husband’s inner circle. Eld, the man who has silently filled the space Miche left behind, is neither as harsh nor as mistrusting as his predecessor. He carries himself with the quiet confidence of a soldier who has long since made peace with the blood on his hands. A knight from Levi’s old unit, a man who has fought and killed in the Emperor’s name, and yet there is a steadiness about him that differs from Miche’s overbearing presence. He watches you, but not in the same way. There is no hostility, no seething resentment, only observation, a patience that makes it clear he is waiting to form his own conclusions about you.

And then there is your new shadow. Jean Kirstein. A name unfamiliar to you before now, though Levi assures you that his family has served the Ackermans for generations. Unlike Reiner, who had been silent and brooding, a fortress of quiet strength and concealed intentions, Jean is the opposite. He is talkative, cocky, and just as stubborn as he is skilled. A brat, as Levi so eloquently put it.

But there is no denying his talent. Jean is a fighter, a knight who earned his place through raw ability rather than lineage. He is not blindly loyal; he questions, challenges, and speaks when others would remain silent. His mouth often gets him into trouble, but it is that same defiance that has made him an invaluable member of Levi’s forces. You suspect it is also what has earned him the emperor’s begrudging respect.

He reminds you of someone though, your younger brother, Eren. That same reckless spirit, that same refusal to bow to anyone, even to those above him. If the two ever met, you’re certain they would clash like fire and steel, each too headstrong to yield.

Jean, for all his skill and discipline, is not without his vices. Off duty, he is prone to drinking with his friends, a habit that has earned him more than a few scoldings from the emperor himself. You’ve learned that he is particularly close to Sasha, not romantically, but in the way of siblings bound by shared experiences rather than blood. They bicker, steal food from each other’s plates, and get into trouble like children playing at being adults.

And speaking of Sasha, she has returned to your side. Though distant in the days following the accusations against you, she has since sought you out, apologizing in earnest for her hesitation. “It was the shock of it all.” She had said, eyes lowered, voice tinged with guilt. You had not blamed her then, nor do you now.

It brings you relief to have her presence back in your life. Compared to the stifling, calculated conversations of your honored ladies, Sasha is like a breath of fresh air. She does not weigh her words with hidden meanings, does not play the endless games of court politics. She speaks as she feels, laughs as she pleases, and for that, you are grateful. Even if she still steals extra bread from the kitchens when she thinks no one is looking.

With the passing of each day, your new life has been lacking freedom; the freedom to leave the court grounds and travel through the, to you, unknown lands of the empire you're supposed to love. The gardens, while beautiful, have slowly started to wither with the embrace of autumn. The once beautiful blooming elderflowers have wilted into dead, brown leaves.

You have expected today to be no different; waking up only to be dolled up and sent to have eldian history lessons with Hange. But today should turn out to be completely different. Levi has ordered a visit to one of the villages housing former slaves who had fled Marley. The journey was not far, but Sasha still had to wake you up before sunrise so you had enough time to be prepared for the travel. She has dressed you into a simple and modest gown suited for traveling.

It is a dark midnight color, woven with wool to keep you warm. The gown is modest and simple, suited for an occasion like this, its neckline high and tight around your skin. On its hem and sleeves the off white dress underneath is revealed, showcasing the fine material.

Traveling through the countryside now appears less magnificent than it did when you arrived at the island a few months ago. Especially now that autumn has colored nature in muddy dull colors. The tension between you and the Emperor still lingers since the night of Miche’s outburst. You sit beside him in the carriage, silent, the rhythmic movement of the wheels against the dirt road the only sound between you. The drip to Ermich district is not the only surprise of today. Before you entered the silver carriage, a messenger delivered a letter to you, one sent by none other than your father.

You haven't dared to open it yet, the parchment resting squished in-between your clothed fingers.

“Come on. Read it already!” Hange, sitting at your side, urges and nudges your arm, her excitement completely swallowing down your anxiety.

“I believe his Majesty would not appreciate that.” You murmur, the nervousness written all over your face while you look up to meet Levis steel eyes.

“Levi-” Hange starts, voice high pitched with a certain urge to it, her eyes pleading with hunger for gossip. “Tch. Shut up, shitty glasses. Just open that damn thing.” Sometimes you wonder how those two were able to befriend each other in the first place. Their personalities, so different from each other, fit like sweet to bitter; not at all.

Finally you oblige her whining and open the letter with a sight, ripping the burgundy colored wax with your former nationalities blazon on it off. You don't read it aloud, but give Hange the opportunity to read the carefully written words herself.

My dearest daughter,

The events surrounding our people weigh heavily on my conscience, but understand that the spies act of their own accord. I did not order Annie to take such reckless action, it was of her own accord to do so. Trust me, my dear, if there was a way for them to leave their positions safely, I would have brought them back to their homeland the moment this useless war has ended.

I assure you, Reiner’s presence as your guard is of simple coincidence. I cannot speak for his actions since he has chosen to serve you himself. Nor Eren or I had a say in that matter, on the contrary, I advised against it.

That said, I feel offended you would suspect your own father to put you in such a dangerous position. You must tread carefully, my daughter. I will do what I can from afar, but you are on your own within those walls, afterall, you are the wife of an Emperor now.

I advise you to write to your mother. She feels sick with worry for your well being. A letter would certainly help her emotional state, tend to her as your duty as the only daughter, will you?

The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. Levi, who has been staring out the window with an unreadable expression, finally speaks.

“So? What does it say?” He questions, the interest in his words not fitting his bored expression. Hange takes her time to read the letter out loud, completely ignoring your discomfort in the matter. In the end she serves the Emperor and not your personal comfort.

“That’s a load of shit.” You turn to look at him, but his gaze returns to the passing landscape. “You do not believe him?” The question lingers between the three of you, silence stretching through the carriage in a suffocating kind of way. Levi scoffs. “Your father’s a snake. He’ll say anything to keep his grip on you.”

He glances at the letter in your hands before dismissing it with a flick of his fingers. “We’re not discussing this anymore.” And that is that. The conversation ends before it even begins. It's awkward, your glare burning into the side of his head. If isn't for Hanges extroverted demeanor you and Levi would have stayed like that for another two hours.

The village is nothing like the grandeur of the palace. The roads are uneven, the homes small and poorly constructed, the people weary-eyed and skeptical. Their hatred for you is palpable the moment you exit the carriage after your husband. You feel their stares, their whispered insults barely concealed as you walk two steps behind Levi.

While they cheer for Levi, bowing deeply into the dirt, they ignore your presence completely.

"A pity our Emperor chose one of their kind." A voice murmurs, sharp as broken glass, cutting through the hush of the village square. Another joins in, laced with venom. "Look at her; Marleyan filth. Ugly thing."

The words slither through the air, coiling around your ribs, tightening like a vice. You do not flinch, though the weight of their hatred presses against your skin like an iron brand. Even Jean stiffens at your side, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his sword, as if he might carve the insult from the very air. But he does not speak. Neither do you.

You understand their anger. You understand their wounds. And yet, understanding does not soften the sting. The resentment in this place clings like smoke; hick, suffocating, inescapable. In the capital, they shower you with hollow praise, forced smiles painted over deep-seated prejudice. But here, where war has left its scars unhealed, there is no veil of civility. Only raw, undiluted loathing.

Perhaps Levi brought you here for this very reason. A lesson in humility. A punishment. You hold your head high, refusing to shrink beneath the weight of their scorn. Beside you, Levi speaks with the village mayor, his voice a low rumble of authority, but your thoughts drift elsewhere.

Then you see him. A boy, no older than six, curled in the dirt. His small hands clutch his stomach, his frame wracked with violent shivers. His face is streaked with grime, his clothes torn to threads, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

He's all alone. You search the crowd for a guardian, for someone, anyone, who might claim him. But no one does. No one even looks. A hollow ache blooms in your chest and then you move.

"Your Majesty!" Jean calls after you, but you do not stop. The world narrows, your steps swift and sure as you close the distance between you and the boy. Hange follows, curiosity flickering in her gaze. You drop to your knees in the dirt, unthinking, uncaring, reaching out with careful hands.

"Little one-" You whisper. "-are you alright?" The boy lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes glassy, fever-bright. He does not answer. Only a soft, pained whimper escapes his lips. You press a palm against his forehead noticing it's way too warm, scalding even, definitely a fever. Jean is at your side in an instant, his voice edged with worry.

"Your Majesty, you can't touch him! If it's contagious-" The guard burts out, obviously fearing for the worst. “I don’t care.” The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, sharp, unwavering. You turn to Hange, your expression hardening. "He needs a physician. Now." Your demand lingers in the cold air, heavy with defiance. “Has no one looked out for that boy? Where is his mother?” The question lingers in the air, awkward silence clutching their mother shut. The village mayor exhales, his gaze impassive. "He's an orphan. In times like these, people look after their own first."

The callousness of his words steals the breath from your lungs. You stare at him, waiting, hoping, for any sign of remorse. There is none. Your grip tightens around the boy's frail frame. “Then I will look after him.” The words fall like stone; unshakable and final.

A servant hesitates before stepping forward, carefully gathering the child into their arms. You watch as they carry him toward the waiting carriage, your pulse a war drum in your ears. From the corner of your eye, you catch Hange watching you with something unreadable in her expression.

"Look at you." She muses, lips curving into a smirk. "Giving orders like a true empress, I'm so proud of you!." You roll your eyes at her words, not sure if she is serious or making fun of you. Then you notice it; a presence looming behind you, heavy, yet familiar; Levi. You turn, meeting the cold steel of his gaze. He watches you for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, at last, he sighs, rubbing a hand over his temple.

“Do whatever the hell you want.” The battle is won. You pivot on your heel, striding toward the carriage, murmuring instructions to the coachman, ensuring every detail of the boy’s care is accounted for. And when you return to the square, the weight of the villagers' stares has shifted. The hatred remains, but now there is something else. Uncertainty. Wary contemplation.

Levi approaches, his eyes sweeping over you; your mud-stained gown, your dirt-streaked hands. His lips curl downward, sharp and unyielding.

“You’re filthy.” The bluntness of it should wound you. It does not, it is what you are after all. Your dress is covered in dirt and your hands covered in a mixture of sweat and raindrops, collected from the boys burning skin. Then, his voice lowers, slipping into something rougher, something darker.

“Clean up when we get home. I want you in my chambers tonight.” Your breath stutters, heat creeping up your spine, curling deep in your belly. Levi does not wait for your answer. He turns, already walking toward the carriage, leaving you rooted in place, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

Beside you, Hange clasps her hands together, her grin wicked. “My Empress is at it again," she sings, linking her arm with yours.

"Who would've thought? The broody Emperor, all riled up over his wife playing the selfless heroine. How romantic." She giggles shamelessly, ignoring the absurdity of her words. "Hange." You hiss warningly, cheeks aflame as you look around, shocked to find the villagers staring. "We're in public." She only laughs. "Oh, please. As if people don’t already know the two of you go at it like rabbits." You groan, this night was going to be very, very long.

The rest of your day unfolds in relative quiet, yet the weight of the village still lingers upon your skin. The boy you saved has safely arrived at the hospital, and the physicians assure you that his illness is not contagious. Still, Sasha had insisted, practically begged, you to take a steaming herbal bath, just in case. "For your own good, your Majesty." She had urged, her brows knitted in concern. "And for the Emperor’s peace of mind. He’ll sleep better knowing you’ve been thoroughly disinfected."

You had rolled your eyes at her wording, but deep down, you knew she wasn’t wrong. Levi had always been particular about cleanliness, and after today’s excursion into the mud and filth of the village, you imagine he wouldn’t be too eager to have you near him unless you were scrubbed raw.

So you bathed. You scrubbed your skin until it was warm and tingling, until the scent of herbs and lavender wrapped around you like a second skin. The weight of exhaustion still clung to your bones, but something else had settled within you; something restless, something anxious.

You spent the rest of the evening preparing yourself, making sure you looked presentable. You even skipped dinner, sipping only on tea to calm the churning in your stomach. Now, as you walk the long, dimly lit halls toward Levi’s quarters, wrapped in nothing but a robe and the thin silk of your underdress, you feel the anxiety creeping back up, pooling in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers tighten around the fabric, gripping it like a lifeline. At your side, Jean walks with an easy stride, though his sharp eyes don’t miss the tremor in your hands, nor the unsteady rise and fall of your breath.

“Are you alright, your Majesty?” His voice is even, but there’s an edge of concern beneath the formal address.

“Just peachy.” You lie, flashing him a weak, fleeting smile. It’s unconvincing, and you both know it.

Jean’s brows knit together, but he doesn’t press. He only sighs.

“I’m just a little nervous.” You admit, voice barely above a whisper.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Nothing to worry about, aside from the fact that Jean will be standing right outside the doors while you lay with your husband, pretending not to hear anything beyond the thick wooden walls. The thought alone has heat crawling up your neck. You pray he won’t listen too closely.

When you push open the heavy doors to Levi’s chambers, the familiar scent washes over you. Parchment, tea, candle wax. It settles in your lungs like a lullaby, calming yet intoxicating. Your eyes sweep the spacious room, searching for him.

“You’re early.” His voice cuts through the silence, low and smooth, yet carrying that ever-present note of authority. Your gaze snaps toward the window, where he sits perched upon the wide wooden ledge, one leg bent, the other stretched out, his arms resting lazily against his knee. The dim glow of the evening light carves sharp angles into his features, making him look almost unreal. His eyes, however, are dark and unreadable, fixed on the horizon where the sky fades into twilight.

“I could come back later.” You murmur, your voice softer than you intend. You clutch your robe tighter around yourself, as if the thin fabric could somehow shield you from the weight of his attention.

“Nonsense.” He doesn’t look away from the window, but the way his fingers flex against his knee betrays something unspoken.

“Come here.” It’s not a request.

Swallowing hard, you step forward, the soft padding of your bare feet against the floor the only sound between you. His gaze finally shifts, moving from the fading sky to you, raking over your form with slow, deliberate intent. A shiver runs through you, not from the cold, but from something far more exciting.

“The past few weeks have been exhausting.” He muses, pushing off the window and closing the distance between you in a few measured strides. He doesn’t reach for you, but his presence alone is enough to make your breath hitch. He studies you, gaze flickering over your face, your lips, the way your hands clutch at your robe like you might unravel if you let go. Then his voice drops, quieter now, but no less commanding.

“Trust me. I don’t enjoy punishing you.” You swallow, the memory of his cold demeanor in the past weeks still lingering like a shadow. The space between you crackles with something unspoken, something thick with tension, and suddenly, the air feels too warm, the room too small.

“Then don’t.” You whisper, eyes big with unspoken pleads. Levi exhales, slow and controlled, but you see the flicker of something behind his eyes, something that burns, something that betrays the restraint he holds so tightly.

His hand lifts, fingers brushing the edge of your robe, a teasing ghost of a touch. Not enough to pull it away, but enough to let you know he could and if he did, you wouldn’t stop him. Levi’s fingers linger at the edge of your robe, tracing the fabric with an agonizing slowness. His touch is light, almost absentminded, but the weight of his gaze is anything but. His eyes stay locked on yours, dark and unreadable, and in the quiet space between you, the tension tightens like a wire stretched too thin.

The air feels charged, thick with something unspoken. He doesn’t move to strip the robe from your shoulders, not yet. Instead, his fingers dip lower, ghosting over the bare skin of your wrist, a teasing brush that leaves a trail of heat in its wake.

“You’re trembling.” The Emperor notes, his voice barely above a whisper. You part your lips to respond, but nothing comes out. He’s right. You are trembling, but not from fear, no, rather from anticipation, from the sheer intensity of his closeness.

He tilts his head slightly, observing you like one might observe a puzzle they aren’t sure they want to solve. Then, with excruciating patience, he lifts his hand to the knot that keeps your robe in place, his fingers curling around the soft fabric. You suck in a breath, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your ribs. He notices, of course he does.

Levi hums, a quiet, knowing sound, and instead of tugging the knot loose, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“You aren't afraid, are you?” The question sends a shiver down your spine. Not because you are, but because you know he wants to hear you say it.

“No.” You breathe, and though your voice is steady, your body betrays you, leaning into him before you can think better of it.

Levi lets out a quiet exhale, his breath warm against your skin. His hand finally moves, pulling at the knot with a deliberate slowness, letting the heavy robe slip from your shoulders. It pools at your feet, leaving you in nothing but the thin silk of your underdress.

His fingers trail up your arm, tracing the delicate curve of your collarbone, before stopping at your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t press, just rests his hand there, feeling the rapid pulse beneath his palm.

He lifts his gaze back to yours, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he speaks.

“I don’t want obedience.” He speaks, voice low and controlled.

“I want your devotion.” The words strike something deep within you. Because for all the distance, for all the coldness of the past weeks, Levi has never lied to you and so you give him what he asks for.

You reach up, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, until there is nothing left between you but breath and heat and this time, when Levi moves, when his lips brush against yours in something that is not quite a kiss, you don’t hesitate. You don’t tremble; you give in.

The moment his lips finally claim yours, there’s no hesitance, no restraint, just the raw and consuming actions of a touch starved man. His kiss is demanding, his grip tightening as he pulls you flush against him, the thin silk of your underdress doing little to shield you from the hard planes of his body.

Levi’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing into your waist, molding you against him with deliberate precision. There’s something almost punishing in the way he takes his time, making you feel every shift of muscle, every controlled breath, as if daring you to react, to lose yourself in the way he moves against you.

Your fingers find the laces of his shirt, fumbling as you try to undo them, desperate to feel more of him, to close the distance that still lingers between you. He notices, of course he does, and with a low chuckle against your lips, he pulls back just enough to watch you.

“You’re impatient tonight.” He hums, a mixture of amusement and breathlessness lacing his tone.

You don’t deny it and instead press closer, letting your hands slide beneath the fabric, feeling the warmth of his skin and the taut muscles beneath your fingertips. Levi exhales sharply, his grip tightening at your hips. Then, without warning, he moves, turning and flipping you so suddenly that your front meets the sheets, the weight of him pressing you down into the soft mattress is suffocating.

A sharp gasp escapes you, but it’s swallowed by the cushion your face is pressed into. His hands roam, dragging over your thighs, your hips, the curve of your waist, mapping every inch of you with excruciating slowness. He pulls the gown upwards, exposing your naked legs to his lusting gaze.

While you blush in anticipation of what this new position might bring, Levi snugs his arm underneath your hips and pulls your bottom up, forcing you onto your knees while your chest and face pushes into the bed. Your spine is sharply bent, much to his liking. He doesn't hesitate to brush his fingers over your rear down your folds, chuckling as he notices that you are not wearing any panties.

“Fuck. No underwear? Aren't you excited to be fucked silly by me.” His words send a shiver down your back and you can't help but moan at the way his fingers collect your excitement and coat it all over your swollen lower lips.

“Please-” You beg, gripping the sheets tightly as you push back against his hand, the feeling of his calculated touch numbing your thoughts.

“Damn. I think you have never been this eager.” He comments, the amazement clearly reflecting the way he rubs over your sensitive pearl. It has you wiggling in pleasure while he holds you in place, assuring you would stay in position, his grip menacingly tight. He is turned on, clearly, but the way he is handling you, like you are nothing but light weight in his hands, has you blushing a deep red. Intercourse with Levi has always been intense, yet somehow this feels different.

Your nightgown slips past your hips, down your spine and exposes your flawless back to his greedy orbs. A small smirk customizes his usual plank face, but in your current position, face pressed into the sheets, you are not able to see it anyways. Levi, usually slow and sensual, doesn't waste time with the unnecessary burden of his clothes and only unbuttons his pants, slipping his breeches to the side. Body consumed with lust, his hardened member stands proudly up between his legs, the dip red.

“You are a traitorous little minx.” He breathes against your ear, his whole body leaning forward to flushly press against you.

“Levi-” He hushs your murmur with a sharp slap against your rear, making a surprised yelp escape your red lips.

“Stop talking." Levi demands, almost harshly, but the way he squeezes his member between your folds, rubbing it with precise movements against your wet, swollen flesh, has you docile underneath him.

Naturally with the way you are all silken up, it doesn't take long for him to slip inside of you. A simple push of his hips was enough to enter your tight and warm walls. Biting your lips and closing your eyes, you welcome the stretch, welcome him. You grip the blanket, suppressing a moan that he forces to break from your lips. Levi's hands move over your body, stopping at your hips to tightly grip them and hold them in place.

“Huch. You look so pretty like this.” He compliments, thrusting into you with a measured pace. His thrusts are deep and intense, the hot feeling of ecstasy forcing you to whine with his every moment. While one hand keeps you fixed around the hips, his other one slides over your back and forcefully grabs your hair.

“Fuck. Yeah, take me, just like that.” Levi's obscene words are nothing compared to his actions.

Clearly Levi is thriving for something more than simple bliss. He is quick, even sharp and controls the position, completely overruling your senses. At this point you don't care that guards are listening to your shameless moans and whines. The pleasure you experience is better than anything you've felt. It's like receiving punishment and a present at the same time, too much, yet not enough.

Your grip hopelessly tightest around the sheets, while your walls clench around his length. Levi pulls you up by your hair, forcing you to hold yourself up with your hands, elbows stretched and spine curved.

“Stay like this.” He demands, though the edge in his voice makes it sound like a beg. You comply, forcing all your strength to stay upright, taking him from behind oh so well.

“I've been told this to be an optimal breeding position.” He groans at your ear, breathing heavily as he hugs you against his chest. The words have you feeling all dizzy as you gasp for air. The sensation from your gut slowly sinks lower, a tingling feeling taking over the pearl between your legs.

“Levi-” Your words break with another set of moans escaping your lungs, the way he roughly moves your body and touches just the right places feels way too intense.

“I wanna cum in you so bad. Make you round with my child.” Having the same wish, you won't argue with that. You want him pulsating inside of you, want to feel him spread his seeds. His movements force your elbows to surrender and you sink back down onto the bed, panting heavily in exhaustion as a storm of ecstasy floods your insides.

“Yeah. Let me fuck out all of that silly thoughts of yours.”

You barely register him, as stars and light stricken spots consume your already blurry vision. His hand brushes over your curves a last time before he hugs you against his sweaty chest tightly. Levi exhales sharply, moving his hips rapidly against yours in the desperate need to find his own release.

“I thought I hated you, but now look at me.” He growls, voice raspy and hair falling over his head.

“I can't stop craving you. I want you, body and fucking soul.” Levi speaks louder and more clear, while you slowly come down from your high, hanging limply in his grasp as you hiss at the overstimulating thrusts of his.

It takes him another minute of mindless hips movements and when he comes he stills, tensing as the wave of his own pleasure shakes him. He is quiet, closing his eyes as he enjoys the feeling of his cum coloring your walls. You snuggle into his embrace, softly mewling at the pulsating and hot feeling. He takes a while, rolling the two of you onto your side, never letting go of you, nor pulling out off your warm and coated walls.

Slowly you are dozing off, while your heartbeat calms down as your body finds rest from the exhausting day and thrilling evening. Before you close your eyes you make out the whispered confession of your husband.

“Love wasn't meant for people like us, duty was. Yet I feel like you are more than just a peace offering. To me you shall be something I didn't consider anyone to be before you; mine. Like a slave.”

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot #fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #levi #captain levi #aot fanfiction #levi smut #levi ackerman smut

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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Thank you so much for recommending my work! It makes me happy to see you liked it 💗

Levi Ackerman Fic recs

Some of them are completed and some are still being updated to this day if yall want to recommend some to me im so open to it thanks 💜

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48678613

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38875191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62498347/chapters/159954127

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60059053/chapters/153241036

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59416978/chapters/151527169

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63482329/chapters/162668125

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63474667/chapters/162645985

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43600390/chapters/109627951

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62089924/chapters/158802868

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60584500/chapters/154690399

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60031267/chapters/153164026

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48678613

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63557626/chapters/163123324

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58309000/chapters/148497268

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62648893/chapters/160371442

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63104716/chapters/161602348

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63673993/chapters/163222891

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63482329/chapters/162668125

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32495158/chapters/80593957

this took me a minute to look for enjoy <3

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

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violentvaleska · 3 months ago

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Yo! How about you make levi x modern reader where he got transferred into our world?

Thank you for requesting! I tried to write in my way but it's really hard to finish the story in a romantic way just in a Oneshot. So I just tried to focus on the fact how Levi got transfigured into our world and how he starts to cope up with the reader! Hope you'll like it!

The captain is in my kitchen?

⚔️Levi Ackerman X Female Reader⚔️

Modern Era! Canon Levi x Modern era Reader! Isekai! Transfiguration! 1.3k words!

Summary: When a sudden blackout left you alone in the dark, the last thing you expected is to find Captain Levi Ackerman in your kitchen.....

Tags: @theremainsof-deactivated2025031 @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @itsnathateasy @violentvaleska @dreamerofthewest @meowmewow7 @mikabella7 @satorella @sugacor3 @darkstarlight82 @derealizationns @ynackerman9499

If you wanna be tagged let me know

Masterlist

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

"MY SOLDIERS, RAGE!"

BOOM.

The apartment shook as if the walls themselves flinched. Then… silence. The television cut to black, taking the lights and the hum of electricity with it. The only thing left was you, sitting in the dark with a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on your lap.

You sigh heavily.

"Perfect…"

Reaching for your phone, you fumble to turn on the flashlight—nothing. The screen stayed dead and unresponsive.

"Great," you mutter, dragging out the word as you stand. "Just great."

Cursing under your breath, you stood up slowly, moving like a blind person through your apartment, one hand stretched out in front of you as you tried not to trip over anything. You hadn't made it more than a few steps when you heard it—a faint, rattling sound coming from the kitchen.

You froze.

That wasn't normal.

Your pulse quickens as a dozen scenarios raced through your mind. Someone? In your house? A thief? But no—whoever it was sounded clumsy, loud even. What kind of burglar made that much noise?

With your phone dead and no real weapon in sight, you grabbed the closest thing you could find: an umbrella. It wasn't much, but it made you feel a little less helpless.

Gripping it tightly, you crept toward the kitchen, holding your breath. Each step felt heavier than the last as you braced for… something.

The rattling stopped.

Suddenly, with an audible click, the power surged back on. Light flooded the room just as you raised the umbrella over your shoulder, ready to swing.

But then you saw him.

A man was crouched on your kitchen floor, breathing hard like he'd just finished running for his life. His back was to you, but it was impossible to miss the black undercut hair, the impossibly clean military posture, and the dark green cloak draped over his shoulders. A cape, almost. And the crest on it—

Your breath hitched.

"Who the hell are you?" you blurted before you could think better of it.

The man stiffened. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned toward you. His gaze was sharp enough to cut glass—steel grey eyes, narrowed, analyzing you in an instant. He looked exhausted, yet there was an undeniable danger in the way he moved. Controlled. Ready.

"Where am I?" he asks back. His voice was low, gravelly. Clipped words with an edge of strain behind them.

You swallow hard.

"Uh… my apartment?"

He glances down at the ridiculous weapon you were holding. Your pajamas. Your stance. His expression didn't change, but there was something deeply unimpressed in his eyes.

"Tch. Ridiculous," he mutters. "Put that down, brat"

"Not until you tell me who you are!" you snap back, though your grip on the umbrella faltered slightly.

"Levi. Captain Levi. Survey Corps."

For a second, you just stared at him.

"…You're kidding," you say. "Are you roleplaying Attack on Titan or something?"

He frownes.

"What's 'Attack on Titan'?"

The dead-serious tone in his voice sent a chill through you. Your stomach twisted.

All right, you admit it... You've read countless fanfictions where Levi gets isekaied in the real world and you enjoyed them too. You wanted them to be real. But you knew that was impossible... He's fictional... But-

This isn't a prank. It can't be. Here he is. Real. Breathing. Standing in your kitchen like he had just stepped out of your screen and into your life. Just the way you imagined him in your darkest fantasies-

You slapped your cheeks lightly, hoping to snap yourself out of whatever weird delusion this was. He arches a brow at you, unimpressed.

"You're serious?" you whisper, your voice shaky. "This… This has to be a prank."

"I don't have time for games," he growls. "One moment I was fighting. The next… I'm here."

You look him over again. His boots are caked in mud, tracking across your carpet. His cloak is torn, smeared with something that looked dangerously close to dried blood. His fists are clenched at his sides, and his eyes darted to every sound, scanning for threats.

It isn't cosplay. It's not a joke.

You slowly lowered the umbrella. "Okay… okay. Let:s just… sit down, yeah?"

He hesitates.

"Fine," he says eventually. "But I want answers."

You nodded, forcing yourself to move toward the small dining table. He followed, stiff and wary. You made tea—because you had no idea what else to do—and he watched your every movement like you might try to poison him.

The silence stretched uncomfortably until you finally spoke.

"So, uh… you're Levi. Captain Levi."

He nods.

"You kill Titans."

His eyes remains cautious, but curious. "Do you… have Titans here?'

You shake your head. "Not unless you count my creepy landlord."

His brow furrowed. "Explain."

And so you did. Hours passed as you explained your world to him. No Titans. No Walls. No humanity on the brink of extinction. Just endless wars of a different kind, and technology that made his sharp eyes widen in disbelief. You showed him your phone, he called it sorcery. You explained electricity and the internet. Indoor plumbing earned a grudging look of approval.

But as the night wore on, you noticed the change. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. The tension didn't leave him completely, but it softened. And when he spoke again, his voice was lower. Tired.

"What happens now? You're saying I'm just a fictional character here even though I have been fighting for my whole life?" he asked.

You bite your lip, hesitating. His entire world is gone. Everyone he knew. Everything he fought for. And he had no idea how to get back.

He looks… lost.

"I know you're confused but.... I'm here with you!" you say softly. "You can stay here. At least until we figure this out. How to get you back."

He stares at you, as if you are speaking another foreign language.

"You don't know me," he says.

You shrug, heat creeping up your cheek. "Yeah, well… I've seen enough of you on screen to trust you. And honestly? You could've killed me five times by now if you wanted to."

A faint huff escapes him. Almost a laugh, but not quite. "Tch. Idiot."

Still, he accepted the blanket you offered him. He sat stiffly on the couch, holding it like he wasn't sure what to do with the softness. Like he didn't deserve it.

"You'll need clothes, I have some clothes of my brother's" you say after a moment, eyeing his uniform. It is torn, stained, and had definitely seen better days.

"As long as they're clean," he replies.

You smile faintly. "Trust me, they are."

For the first time since he arrived, he let his guard down—just a little. When you come back with a pillow, he has already changed his clothes and you find him sitting by the window, staring out at the stars.

"You're worried about your friends, aren't you?" you ask quietly.

He didn't answer right away. Then he nods once.

You stand beside him, looking out at the night sky.

"We'll figure this out, Levi," you promise. "You're not alone anymore."

He glances at you then, and for a brief moment, the cold in his eyes thawed.

"Thank you," he said.

The words were quiet, but sincere.

That night, he fell asleep faster than he had in years—wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of detergent and warmth, in a world that had no Titans… but knew kindness.

And for the first time in a long time, he believed he might be able to rest for a while.

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