#attack on titan the end

[nadaboodraws]

Reunited.

[aengelren]

“Eren took off first, Mikasa stayed behind him, and I was dead last.” Eren died first, Mikasa buried beside him, Armin kept visiting their graves as an old man until he joined them

Race towards the tree/chronological order they died in

[yutamayo]

"You were never supposed to sacrifice yourself for my sake."

[hotstreak2k3]

2013 2023

[leviraaaaaa]

Bad ideas

Bad idea.

The thought echoed in your mind as you watched him, your heart racing despite the voice of reason screaming for you to look away. Your mind was listing all the reasons why you can't, you shouldn't. Your heart ignored it all.

Bad, bad ideas.

look away look away look away

You couldn't.

Levi sat next to you on the sofa, blissfully unaware of the chaos in your head. He was casually holding a beer can in that strange way he did, fingers gripping the top edge of it.

Was it strange that you found it attractive? You wondered how mortified he would be if he knew.

You shook your head, trying to snap out of it. But it felt different. Tonight.

How had you even ended up here?

You remembered showing up at Levi’s door just a few hours earlier, a plastic bag filled with cheap alcohol in hand. Your original intention was to consume them yourself, to drown your sorrows alone, to escape the whirlwind of emotions left in the wake of the disastrous expedition of today. But for whatever reason, you had sought him out instead. Your mind was restless and you knew Levi's were too.

He would understand. He always did.

So when Levi opened the door with a scowl on his face, you'd blurted it out without thinking.

“Wanna drink with me?”

He had blinked, confused, eyeing the bag then looking back at you.

“...I don't think you're supposed to be drinking.” He said after a moment, tone blunt but not unkind.

You had shaken your head. “Trust me,” You replied. “I do. And I think you do too.”

And that had been that. After a pause, Levi let out a soft grunt of acknowledgment, stepping aside to let you in. “Couldn’t you find someone else?” he’d muttered, but he didn’t push you away.

Hours slipped by in a blur. One bottle turned into another, and you found yourself ranting about everything: Erwin’s decisions. The bloodshed. The guilt. You unleashed every ounce of anger, resentment and guilt you held in your heart, complaining to him about every single thing you could find to complain about. The more you went through the bottles and the more the night fell, the more drunk you became, the less it was starting to be actually connected to what you were here for and more about the silly concerns and irritations of something only a drunk person would care about.

Levi sat quietly through it all, never once interrupting but always present, always listening. That was the thing about Levi—he didn’t talk much, but when he did, his words meant something. And when he didn’t, it wasn’t because he wasn’t paying attention.

But now you were here.

Silence filled the room, thick and heavy. You’d stopped talking a while ago, and Levi hadn’t moved. The quiet was suffocating, and your thoughts—dangerous, forbidden thoughts—were growing louder by the second. A part of you knew that this was not where you should be.

But it felt so different.

The thoughts were getting louder. Strange thoughts. Thoughts about the man beside you, thoughts you'd usually fight against, now impossible to ignore as you struggled to find something, anything to occupy your mind and anything to deny the unwilling confessions your heart was now whispering to you.

You weren't sober. And being here, with Levi, while incapacitated was a very dangerous gamble you had made tonight.

Why were you here, really? You thought. Why Levi?

“Couldn’t you find someone else?” He had asked.

Couldn't you? Weren't there other options?

So, why were you really here?

How were you supposed tell him that you.. just wanted to be with him a little?

Levi wasn't one to let people in. So you took what you got. Groans, grumbles, those snappy little remarks, you'd take it all. If that just means you got to spend a few hours with him. But how could you tell him that?

It was an excuse, you knew. You could drink alone; you didn't need someone else. All of it was an excuse you made yourself to justify this irrational yearning to be with him for a little while. Because you knew he wouldn't turn you away, not when you were sad.

Friends, the remnants of rationality insisted. You and Levi were just friends. So you have been for many years. That's what you were. And that's why you wanted to be close to him. That's why you seeked him. Because it was a rough day. Because he's a good listener. That's what friends do.

Friends.

Are friends supposed to have thoughts you had right now? Friends, so why did your heart race the way it was?

You were losing the battle you’ve been fighting for years. Every inch of you was warning you. These were bad, bad ideas, and it could ruin everything. Everything you've worked for. Not many could call Levi Ackerman their friend. You could. That's enough. That should be enough.

But it was happening so fast. With every passing moment, the less sober you were becoming and you really, really shouldn't be here at all.

But how could you not?

You stared at him blankly. He wasn't looking at you, blankly staring somewhere in the distance. He looked relaxed. More relaxed than you've ever seen him. His usual sharp, steely eyes half-lidded, his dark hair falling messily over his forhead. There was a faint flush on his pale cheeks and there, just there you saw the barest glimpse of vulnerability. He looked so soft, so unlike the hardened soldier you've always seen him to be.

God, he was so pretty. Always.

Now that you thought of it, you think you'd fallen the first time you've met him. It was so easy to.

He was a grumpy little asshole, a storm of contradictions—sharp-tongued and distant, yet in his quiet moments, so deeply, unshakably kind. You yearned to touch him. If he'd let you. If he only let you.

But boundaries. You dared not.

Still, staring at him, drunk and dazed, you think you just might.

You just might.

"... Lev?" You whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Levi stirred, coming back from his thoughts. He frowns, turning to glance at you. "Yeah?"

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. Why did you call him? Why were you doing this?

"Levi." You repeated. Did he know how much you loved his name? He notices it, you can tell, the tremor in your voice, one you couldn’t hide. His gaze sharpens, though the confusion lingers.

"...what?"

He set the drink down, focusing entirely on you now, a hint hint of concern flickering in his usually blank expression.

“I’m going to do something, Levi,” you muttered quietly, your heart pounding in your chest. “And you can’t get mad, okay?”

Now or never. Now or never. Your heart chanted quietly. Before the liquid courage dies down.

Levi leaned back almost instinctively, looking down at you with narrowed gray eyes. “That depends,” he replied, “Are you going to throw up on me?”

"No," you answered, “No, Levi.”

But just as you leaned in closer, your breath catching in your throat, you see his expression change. His eyes widen, just a fraction, and you realize that he knows. He knows what you were about to do. You see the exact moment it hit him.

There’s no going back now.

You close the gap between you in one swift, desperate motion, pressing your lips against his. For a heartbeat, he’s frozen. You think you’ve ruined everything. But then, as if time itself stops, Levi responds. His lips part against yours, tentative but warm, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

Because this? This was everything.

You had spent days wondering how they'd feel but you had never thought of this. His lips were so soft, so plush against yours. So warm, he was pouring liquid heat into your mouth and holy fuck Levi Ackerman was kissing you. His hands were on you—gripping your arms, pulling you in. He was kissing you like he had been waiting forever. Like it was everything he couldn't say and he needed you to understand. Like he couldn't breathe and you're the only source of air.

Levi Ackerman was kissing you.

Holy fuck.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, and you jerked back, gasping for air. The world spun around you, the gravity of what just happened crashing down hard. You sat there for a heartbeat, pulse thundering in your ears, waiting for him to say something—anything. But he just stared at you, wide-eyed, his chest rising and falling like he’d sprinted through hell. Disbelief and confusion carved into his sharp features.

What had you done?

“I should go,” you muttered, the words barely audible, more to yourself than to him. “I'm so sorry, I should go.”

But just as you began to turn away, he stopped you with a single, rough whisper.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, you fucking coward.”

Then his lips were crashing back onto yours and you were gone.

There was no going back now.

[happybird16]

First Appearance

Last appearance

[smol-ackerman]

進撃の巨人 (2013-2023)

Thank you, WIT, MAPPA and ISAYAMA-SAN for the journey!

[clfixationstation]

people are arguing on twt over whether Mikasa or Historia understands Eren the best, when the clear answer is Armin

[jrreigns]

Letters from the Other Side

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as you leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering, I want to see you.

CW: Post-war Levi x fem!reader, civilian!reader

A/N: Some post-war Levi goodness after the angst I’ve posted this past month. ~2.5k words of fluff and romance. If this does well, I’ll probably write the super romantic smut next.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

Three years after the Rumbling and things were starting to return to a sense of normalcy in the Stohess district. At least as normal as things can get when the twisted mentality of the Yeagerists and their seizing control of the military dominated the news. Your mother and father tell you not to worry, but you’ve been worried ever since the walls disappeared and the Survey Corps regiment disbanded.

Or rather, you have only really been worried over a single person, the man with the raven locks and the dull gray eyes, dull eyes that glittered when you spoke to him. You were still a woman, and a woman has intuition for those sorts of things like attraction, and Captain Levi couldn’t help how flustered he got whenever he saw you. Your father was the owner of a blacksmith company, and you often bumped into Levi along with Commander Smith several times a month.

Humanity’s strongest, you’d think in awe, where you had imagined a big brute, now you saw the man for what he was.

Why’d he come along was always unknown to you, but as your father and the commander spoke privately in another room, you offered small conversation and tea while he waited. Where small talk began, somehow a deep appreciation for the other bloomed, and the visits began to feel like the visits of the suitors that bombarded your home on occasion. He’d gift you single flowers, it’s all I can afford, he’d say meagerly. You’d thank him with a kiss on the cheek each and every time. And each and every time a ferocious tinge of red would adorn his face.

The timing never seemed to be right with either of you, it always seemed like when one was ready to take the leap, the other had other obligations waiting. Wait for me, were his selfish last words to you and you nodded your head as you gave him a final good-bye.

It had already been three years. You were already on the cusp of giving up.

It had been a nice breezy morning when you received his first letter. The unfamiliar stamps had caught both you and your parents off-guard, but nonetheless they gave you the privacy to open it. There, in the small garden of your home, tears welled up in your eyes as you skimmed through it.

It was a letter from Captain Levi.

Or rather Levi, just Levi, as the letter so said. I have told them to stop calling me captain, but these brats never learn. You giggled inwardly at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. You read it one more time, much slower this time, familiarizing yourself with his handwriting, the slant in his letters, his signature, everything. You familiarized yourself with the names Gabi and Falco, children you did not know but instantly loved with the way they cared for Levi.

At the very bottom, a hopeful wish that you will respond, signed next to his name.

Of course you will.

Your father stood confused as you gathered parchment and a pen to write, finding it odd that his moody daughter was suddenly so lively. Perhaps it’s the engagement, he thought, and let you be.

Your ring twinkled under the summer sun, and yet nothing has caused more glee than the very letter you were responding to. You wrote about the situation in Paradis, you wrote about the kindness of the queen, and you wrote about how business was booming for your father, despite the war having been over. The thought saddened you, but you quickly sign the letter and add a note that you excitedly await his next letter.

It’s not that you fail to mention your engagement, rather some deep part of you didn’t want to mention it. Your betrothed was a good man, hand picked by your father, you had accepted to keep his worries at bay that you wouldn’t end up husbandless and with no children.

How quickly Levi’s letters can have you questioning your familiar duties.

We restored some of the land ruined by the war, Levi writes, many foreigners are starting to settle here again.

You can’t help the sense of admiration that fills you up. It filled you up when he’d visit with the commander, and it still filled you up now. A military man, you wonder if he’s still as strong as when you met him. Humanity’s strongest, you wondered if he still thought about you and the flowers he’d gift you.

I’d like to visit it one day, you write, perhaps a change of scenery would be nice. All this yeagerist talk has me going mad.

I’d like to visit you one day, you will yourself to write, but you don’t. You had been lovestruck years ago, perhaps the captain no longer harbored the same feelings. Perhaps the captain has found someone new, perhaps the captain has married.

Sadness consumes you. After all, you were just friends back then, right?

You trash your letter and write a plainer one instead. It hadn’t even reached half a page when you sealed it, wrote his address on the front of it and set it aside for the postman to pickup tomorrow.

“Honey,” you can hear your mother call, “James is here to see you.” You force your best smile to greet your husband-to-be.

It’s weeks before the next letter arrives. The pretty orange and red tree leaves were beginning to fall, a cozy chill running through the district. Your wedding preparations were already underway when the postman calls out to you, a single letter in his hands, the stamps it bore already familiar to you.

More talk of restoration, recovery, Gabi and Falco’s shenanigans, when finally you reach the last bit of the letter. I don’t mean to bother you, Levi writes, your last letter felt abrasive. I understand if things have changed. Everything has changed.

You wonder what goes through Levi’s mind when he writes to you.

No, things have not changed. Things still felt the same, at least they did to you. Still, you couldn’t ignore your engagement anymore as you saw your mother debate through wedding ribbons in the distance and you finally will yourself to write and tell him the news.

I’m engaged, it feels awful to write it, my engagement is a long one, though, and so I’m sorry if the letter was short. I must’ve been busy.

You write of other things, of the rising tension amongst good folks like your family who didn’t want to fuel another war, and the yeagerists. You write of how the talks of peace by the ambassadors (who you found out were actually part of the same regiment as him) were falling on deaf ears.

I’d like to see you, you finally write, I’d like to see what the other side looks like.

You add the last bit in a final moment of hesitation, sign your name and set it aside, a deep breath falling from your lips.

“You’re changing the wedding date again, and to a later date might I add,” your father bellows out to you.

“Father, please,” you reply, exasperated, trying to escape the dining room and into your own, a new letter in hand, “I will get married in time, what’s the rush?”

“The rush is that you’re not young anymore, I beg you to reconsider.”

You shut the door behind you, shaky fingers coming to pry the letter open. You force yourself to read slowly, absorbing every single inked word coming from Levi’s fingertips.

You skip his polished words of annoying governmental policies being implemented on his side and go straight to the heart of the letter, his real response to you.

Congratulations on your engagement, he begins, I’m surprised you haven’t even married yet.

That? That is what he has to say? You scoff, a slight irritation blooming.

I don’t look like before—I’ve lost an eye and my right hand is destroyed, his letter continues, I look awful.

I’m not humanity’s strongest anymore.

You don’t know why these words strike you deeply. Years and a great distance separate you from what Levi is or was for that matter, yet it isn’t Levi’s exterior that ever affected you in the first place. It was the small talks and the small gifts, it was his tinged cheeks and his intrepid way of speaking around your people who have only seen the refined things in life.

You could never look awful to me, you write in your response, a wave of heat flaring up on your cheeks, you’re just trying to get me not to go.

Levi’s letters continue well into the deeper part of winter, the leaves have long since fallen, snow beginning to gather amongst the branches. The winters where he lived were harsh, and he writes of how they were causing the ache in his knee to worsen. You spend some of your money to send him some ointment you purchased from a local medic.

He writes to you of how the snow reminds him of when the Survey Corps would serve hot chocolate on the off chance. You send him chocolate you bargain off a local vendor.

The signs of Levi’s homesickness don’t escape you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

I could send you Stohess’s entire stock of goods if I can, you respond to his letters of thanks.

What would I do with all that, he responds to yours, breaking you into a fit of silent laughter.

I’ve missed your awful humor, you write casually. You wonder if you should trash this letter and begin a new one, but you don’t. I’ve missed you, you finish writing.

The budding roses in your garden remind you of your predicament.

“As much as I respect you,” James begins, “I won’t accept any other change to the wedding. If you won’t marry me then I’ll find someone who will.”

You comprehend his irritation, even if you don’t fully understand it.

He leaves you on your garden bench, exiting through the gate, just in time for the postman to arrive. Your feelings don’t subside, in fact they linger as you read Levi’s next letter.

Upon opening it, nervousness hits you as you see just how short the letter is. Policy change, annoying policy change.

The ambassadors have told me that postage to Paradis will be barred soon. Your eyes widen. Despite the nice spring breeze, your body suddenly feels so cold.

If I don’t hear from you again, I wanted to wish you a happy marriage. Your eyes well with tears, but it’s his next words that move you.

Unless you change your mind. Come see me. I want to see you. Just as you’re about to trash the envelope, a small flower catches your eye. It was dried up and rather lonely, but you hold it close to you as small tears slip down your cheeks.

The next morning, you try to give the postman your next letter but he just shakes his head in response.

“Apologies ma’am, the military has ordered a full stop for all international mail.” You thank him anyway, despite how distraught you feel.

Your wedding is within two weeks. The white dress in the corner of your room haunts you. Although lace with spring flowers were added to match the season, it only made it look like the kind of dress you wore on your deathbed.

There was no more rescheduling your wedding date, there were no more letters to look forward to, you could only look over the last letter, his final request.

You longed for Levi. Did he long for you?

Come see me, I want to see you.

Despite the spring air, a heat that resembled summer humidity burned through you.

“It’s a one way trip if you decide to head to the other side,” the hefty man tells you, “military has barred all incoming and outgoing mail, I wouldn’t be surprised if they bar incoming ships soon.”

This was it, the point of no return. You had written your last letter addressed to your parents—an apology for doing what you are doing. No, your heart hasn’t seized its rampant beating since Levi’s last letter. You need to see him.

You board without much of a glance back.

For days, sea sickness threaten to put a damper on your good (albeit nervous) mood, your only fuel the letters stored in your small suitcase, rereading them every night as the darkness of the ocean tormented you.

Finally, the crewmen announce that you will be arriving in the morning. The sun was setting off in the horizon—you clutched his last letter as you take a brief moment to absorb this feeling of resilience that surged through you. You’d get to see Levi soon, you’ve waited enough. Here, near the rails of the ship, you long for him, nerves filling your stomach.

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering. I want to see you.

Past the plethora of persons disembarking, past the many political volunteers ushering about far-off dreams of peace that were unachievable, you navigate through unknown territory in an effort to find him. Fingers pointed, people spoke foreign directions as they glanced at the address on your envelope. It has all brought you here.

Face to face with a young girl, too young to be married.

“Ah—sorry,” you begin, “I was told Levi Ackerman lived here.”

“Yeah he does,” she begins suspiciously, “I’ll get him.” The door closes again and already you feel out of your element. Perhaps this was a mistake, you wish the ground can swallow you whole. Peering eyes look at you through a nearby window, ones that belonged to the young girl who just spoke to you, and another who you haven’t met.

“That’s her? No way,” you can hear them say. Suddenly the door opens, and dull gray eyes that bore a hint of annoyance soften and make way for a familiar glitter that reminded you of simpler times.

“Levi.”

He whispers your name, suddenly hiding his maimed hand, trying to get you to see his good side, the side with his working eye. But you don’t see that. You see the man who gifted you flowers, you see the man whose cheeks you once kissed.

You will yourself to move and you do, grabbing the hand behind him and crashing into him in an embrace. Levi’s face is red, and he glances at the window to see Gabi and Falco gawking at them. He waves them off annoyingly and they give him a thumbs-up as they pull away.

Hands come to wrap around you, lips kissing your forehead.

“You came,” he whispers into your hair.

“Of course.”

[wolvesandfoxes25]

They're both so shy and adorable.

And Armins just like... Hitch is CONSTANTLY giving me shit about my massive crush on you. How could you NOT know?

[cluelessjellyfish]

"Go on. Take your anger out on me if you want..."

[nadaboodraws]

Finally I can post this up after watching the last episode. For 10 years, it finally ended down to history and to our memories and hearts. Thank you for being a part of this journey. . Sasageyo Sasageyo Shinzou wo Sasageyo.

[aengelren]

The fact that this is the same woman is so symbolic

[violetscanfly]

Today is a very special day isn't it

Bonus:

[grizarts]

She lives rent free in a science lab within my brain

[erenthology]

Drabble but I had to make it pretty :3

Eren is pretty nosy. When he visited your dorm for the first time, he went through everything in your room, shamelessly. You were lying half naked waiting for him, meanwhile this dude was smelling your perfumes.

“‘Hmm, what’s this? ‘Who’s this in the picture with you?”

“His name is Dave, he was my prom date.” you tell him, growing irritated.

“He’s ugly.” He puts the photo facing down and joins you on bed but sits down instead of pushing your head into the mattress fucking you raw. “are your sheets linen? Is that what you prefer?”

You stare wordlessly, this was not how you expected the infamous collage star to to act when invited into your dorm. You usually meet at his place because he insists to always pick you up and have you spend the night at his. So when you asked him if he wanted to come to your place you instead, you could swear you saw his eyes sparkle.

You put your feet on each side of his shoulders which gets him to glance down in between your legs. “Wow, you want to fuck me so bad.” he tilts his head to the side as if to get a better look.

He’s on his knees, hovering over you as you’re lying down with your legs open “Keep talking like that and I’ll find somebody else to fuck me.”

He raises an eyebrow, “keep saying stuff like that and you’re gonna get punished.”

“By who?” you clench your thighs.

His eyes track the dirty motion of your hips and licks his lips as if to taste you. “only me. why, is there someone else on your mind?”

“I mean, dave did hit me up recently. he’s grown quite attractive.” you like being petty.

Not even a crack of a smile. “You know, when you say stuff like that, it makes me want to fuck you silly.” he delicately strokes your cheek.

Huffing out a breath, you’re about to tell him to go ahead but get interrupted by him tracing your lips with his fingers. “Your lips turn down at the edge,” he smiles, “you have the perfect pout.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, not really used to being treated like this. Eren keeps surprising you and yet you find ways to ignore it. But you have a feeling that he’s fully aware of your antics and is being patient with you.

“So?” you dart out your tongue around his finger. “want to see it wrapped around something other than your finger?”

He adjusts his boner and pushes your legs down around his waist. Gazing into your eyes, he calmly speaks. “you have no idea how much I crave you. every second of every day.”

Swallowing hard, you feel the tension in the room about to snap. He lowers his body and pushes your legs up, folding you in half with his body weight.

Face to face, Eren looks at your searchingly. He’s waiting for you to kiss him, he wants you to show him you want him. So your hands reach for his face, and you brush your lips against his. He sighs a breath of relief, as if he’s been holding it it this whole time, and kisses you back.

Feeling content, he draws back and watches as you’re unable to open your eyes for a few moments afterwards. Eren smiles and releases your legs, then viciously hugs you and starts rocking you back and forth.

“You’re so cute.” he squishes you.

“stop, I’ll cut your teddy bear the next time I’m over Eren I swear.” you threathen harmlessly. He gasps, “first of all, Eldy is not a teddybear he’s my son.” he jokes back. Laughing at his antics, you realize you’ve gotten further involved with him than you might’ve realized.

The inside jokes, he kissing and unnecessary cuddling. As if noticing you’re drifting away, he puts you on his lap and grabs your laptop. “Let’s watch a something.” he strokes your thighs.

“Dibs” you both say on the same time. Turning to face him, you yell “supernatural” again, at the same time.

He stares intensely, “oh baby, you were so made for me.” he draws out enthusiastically. “Yeah yeah, just put it on.” you turn your face back to hide your blush.

Your bodies are tangled together, he holds you as if you complete him. Legs in between yours, arm around your torso, you’re surrounded by him. “Eren, did something happen?”

You can tell this makes him happy. “you care about me.” he smiles cheekily and kisses your cheek. So that’s the reasons he just wants to hold you.

“So, what’s wrong?” you forcefully let out. It feels a bit uncomfortable but you can tell he’s not uncomfortable at all. “Don’t worry about it, just let me hold you.”

“Fine.” you don’t know why you make it sound like you’re irritated, you’re not. But Eren doesn’t say anything, you have a feeling he’s learning how you work and actually understands you. Either way, you let him hold you.