I do not allow my art for use in any generative AI program.
Elis â She/Her â 25
I mainly make art at random intervals. You can find my more official and formal art on my instagram at ElisCuddles. However, my more self-indulgent, fandom-y art is primarily here. You can find it via the #elis art tag. Otherwise, I'll do my best to link various artworks here in a Masterlist of sorts.
I don't have notifications turned on for Tumblr, so, if you have sent me a message or something else, please don't expect me to reply immediately or even the same week.
đžArt Masterlist Belowđž
âż Resident Evil âż
âż Call of Duty âż
âą Chris Redfield (RE1) x Self-Insert OC (Hug)
âą Chris Redfield (RE1) x Self-Insert OC (Kissing)
âą Chris Redfield (RE1) x Self-Insert OC (Injured & Carried)
âą Chris Redfield (RE1) x Self-Insert OC (Drunk on a lap)
âą Konig x Anyone
âż Naruto âż
âż Dead By Daylight âż
âą Deidara
âą Deidara with flowers
âż Baldur's Gate 3 âż
âą Dead by Daylight - Ghost Face
âą Dead by Daylight - OC + tiny Ghost Face
âż Other âż
âą Baldur's Gate 3 - Reply to @froggyfeetsies post
âą Baldur's Gate 3 - Opinion on Astarion's vampirism
The compositon on all of these is next level (the combo of color and textures SWEET WILDMOTHER). Vethâs is especially hitting the sweet spot for me. Wow.
simon riley who touches you casually, almost unconsciously. sitting on the couch, minding your own business when his hand, heavy and calloused, slides under your waistband without warning - sliding straight to your clit, dragging rough fingertips over it, all while heâs still watching tv, looking unfazed.
coming up behind you while youâre working, reaching around you to grope your tits, massaging them firmly in his hands, murmuring tiredly, âwhat dâyou think we should do fâr dinner, luv?â
heâs just never had someone who he can show affection to freely, so seeking your soft, easy intimacy is like a balm for his soul.
Simon is terrible at feelings x reader. Angsty fluff. Not proofread and written during my one hour lunch break =)
Spending the night with him was probably a dream come true. There was probably not a single person around who couldnât tell how obviously into Simon you were, which is probably why the end to what to you felt like a wonderful night stung that much more. Â
You had already figured waking up next to him after finally doing something about what you felt would be awkward at first. It was no secret that he wasnât the most comfortable around feelings, but you wouldnât had thought heâd be the type to fuck you and dip. And yet, thatâs what you were met with when you woke up the next morning to an empty right side of the bed. No notes, texts, missed calls, only a silent apartment.Â
You tried, foolishly, to think positively. Maybe something happened and he had to leave before you, heâd have an explanation and an apology ready, and youâd forgive him right away and feel relieved that he didnât mean to stomp all over your feelings. So you made it to work, ready to find him, completely sure this would be an easily cleared misunderstanding that wouldnât ruin what finally felt like the start of something more between the two of you.Â
And you walked up to him, nervous yet confident of your intuition, and were once again met with nothing.Â
He didnât need to look at your disappointed look to know he fucked up. He knew it from the moment he left your place. He shouldâve had something to say, dear god, he was up all-night debating walking all the way back to your apartment and apologize before you could even realize he even left in the first place. He didnât want to leave, but he did. Yesterday was the best night heâs had in such a long time, he let his walls down for longer than a 30-minute conversation with you, and it felt fucking great. He let himself do everything he had been craving to do for so long, kissing you, holding you, it all felt better than he wouldâve even be able to describe. And to have you the way he did, soft, pliant, with a lovesick look on your face.Â
There was nothing like it, and it messed him right up. Laying down next to you, having you fall asleep peacefully in his arms was lovely, until silence fell on the room, letting him fall victim to his own mind, realizing what he was feeling, what just happened, he couldnât deal with it all.Â
And while it didnât feel good when he went back to his own place, it felt even worse now. He swore he could see the sparkle you seemed to permanently have in your eyes dull at his lackluster approach, and he felt like the biggest fucking asshole in the world. Â He tried stumbling through an apology, barely getting a sentence out before your eyes started welling up in tears, making shut up while you practically scurried away to your office hoping no one could see you like that. Â
It was a terrible start to a week that shouldâve been anything but saddening, and it didnât get any better. Not that either of you thought it would. But after having nothing but the best time together, Simon felt like he was going insane when he realized how truly shit everything felt when you were upset.Â
 And this, this was more than upset. This was complete disappointment coursing through your veins, and it was obvious. You ignored him the whole day, not in bitterness, but with a halfhearted look and a sniff whenever he got to wherever you were.Â
You called off your day as early as you could, dashing to the exit doors with puffy eyes and a sour feeling before he could even reach your office. And the habit stuck the following days, the routine the two of your shared disappeared completely. No eager good mornings, no ramblings of the night before, no going to lunch together or making plans for your weekends. He thought he could tough it out, deal with the consequences of his fear of vulnerability, just accept it and hope youâd be able to move on from him sooner than later. Â
But these past days had been much more of a torture than he had anticipated. Especially now that he didnât get to see you at all. You no longer willingly ignored him while being in the same room, you were just never in the same room anymore period, He didnât get to see you in the mornings, he didnât know when you got in or when you left, he didnât run into you once for lunch. And by the time another week of this torment was about to start again, he couldnât deal with it anymore. Â
He couldnât keep letting his issues get in the way of finally having something in his life that felt worth it. Not in this life, not when it came to you.Â
He made sure to wrap up as quickly as he could, and he went to the parking lot with nothing but determination, standing by his car as he waited. he figured you'd make it a point to leave later than usual, to not run into him, but he didn't care. nothing was going to deter him from setting this right. Â
And so he asked around, trying to get as much information as he could about your new routine that kept you occupied enough to not see him once throughout your day. You had started taking overtime nearly every day, staying behind as much as you could, not only to keep from seeing him but to keep you busy as well, which he shouldâve figured out, burying your feelings in a busy mind was more than regular for you.Â
-Â
You could already feel the daily headache building up as you made your way out of the mostly empty building, sharing quick goodbyes with the few other workers that were still around. It felt a little stupid, being so wound up about this, throwing yourself so far into the busiest and heaviest workload youâve taken on this year, all just to stop yourself from being able to hear your own thoughts for a second too long.Â
You could only hope the heavy feeling of rejection and hurt that dragged on your chest would dissipate soon enough. Itâs not like he said anything too harsh, he didnât insult you, he didnât yell at you, he didnât tell you heâd never be with someone like you. But he did leave you like it was nothing, he let you open up and be with him in such a vulnerable way just to ditch you afterwards. But god, you wanted to be over it. You wanted to get back to basics, to turn back time and pretend that night and subsequent days did not even happen in the first place. Itâs not like he knew how strongly you might feel about him, itâs not like he could read your mind. But then again, every single person around you only needed to see the two of you for a couple minutes to know you were head over heels so why couldnât he.Â
Had you been too subtle to him? Did you joke around too much? Should you have been clearer about what you wanted and who you wanted? Sure, you might've mentioned once or twice how attractive Soap was, but who could blame a girl for trying to see if the intimidating hunk of a man would show even a slight hint of jealousy over you.Â
Maybe you didnât do anything wrong at all. Maybe he was well aware of what you wanted, and he just didnât care. You didnât want to think of him like that, but the thought kept coming up, no matter how much you tried to reason yourself out of it. He was always a little distant, and he wasnât the friendliest man out there, thatâs for sure; but youâd like to think all the times he attentively listened to your random rants about anything and everything with a slight smile on his face meant he had to at least like having you around for more than you just being some hot girl â or the times he picked you up from seedy bars where you followed Gaz and Soap to, carefully helping you into his car while telling you off for trying to keep up with their drinking habits, lightly chastising your tipsiness while still enjoying your hiccuped attempts to defend your decisions. Â
Surely he didnât pick up the phone past midnight just out of the kindness of his heart and got himself out of the house and in his car before you were even done asking if he could come get you just because he didnât want to be rude. There had to be something he felt too, anything. Or maybe, you were just an idiot who mistook a regular acquaintanceship for a possible relationship, or even a friendship.Â
The usual spiral of thoughts was interrupted the second you made into the back parking lot, locking eyes with Simon the moment you turned your step towards your car. And you wouldâve expected a different situation, it wouldâve made sense to be met with a stern gaze beckoning you to not turn back into the building, to be chastised immediately about how proficiently youâve been ignoring him. However, you were met with the saddened gaze of a repenting man instead.Â
You wanted to walk past him, leave without saying a word, not act upon how his utterly defeated look made your heart twist; and had he been anyone else, you wouldâve been able to.Â
"Do you need something?â You definitely wanted to make it sound harsher, more nonchalant than the soft broken tone that came out.Â
âYou.â Â Â
You pursed your lips together, rolling your eyes while looking away because you could already feel the tears threatening to come up.Â
âWe need to talk.â He mustered over the silence he was met with.Â
âAbout what?  I think you made things abundantly clear. Thereâs nothing to discuss.âÂ
âI know. And Iâm sorry. I really am.â His resolve seemed to diminish when you eyes narrowed at the apology. Â
âWhat are you sorry about? About leaving me alone, about lacking an explanation? Or just about fucking me altogether?â Â The words rolled off your tongue just as they had been ringing through your head. Each sentence felt like a stronger blow to him, and you could see it; the way his eyes glossed up and his shoulders dropped. He swallowed, trying not to grimace and let you say what you felt, while you wanted to take it back and say that it was fine, that you understood and you forgive him. But you had been feeling so dejected, so disappointed, and downright embarrassed about being treated like he couldnât care less about how his actions would make you feel.Â
So instead of a correction, you let silence fall over you both, and it felt abysmal. Â
Simon wanted to say something, to let it all out and explain to you everything that makes him so fucking shitty at this â to tell you that he wants you, that he craves you like the fucking air he needs, and it just wonât come out. Â
He met her gaze again, taking in the pouty lips and flushed face, your arms crossed in a pathetic attempt to seem angrier than you actually were. Â
âI shouldnât have left. I knew how you felt, and that you liked me-â Â
âLike? You think Iâve spent that day crying and rearranged everything I could in my life to not think about how you made me feel because I like you?â Â
Simon knew you enough to see past the furrowed brows and glare, enough to know the way your hands dug into your own jacket and your lips trembled were telltale signs of you trying to stop yourself from crying in front of him. And it crushed him. He wouldâve preferred you angry, shouting, cold, distant, to make him grovel for your forgiveness.Â
He could see a couple teardrops starting to fall down your cheeks and he desperately wanted to make this better. There was probably not much he could say, now that he could think of right now, si he did the only thing he could come up and wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a tight embrace hoping some semblance of his affection would help, even if slightly. Â Â
The way you melted into the touch, the tears flowing freely the second your face fell on his chest. You felt like an idiot, unable to say everything you had been thinking of for days, and yet also unable to stop your feelings from showing so strongly. You felt like a child, and it made the embarrassment run hot through you. Sheepishness covered your features, puffy face, with bright red cheeks and nose, immediately regretting such outbursts to something you felt like Simon didnât even see the importance in.Â
 But he did, and he cared. He knew he fucked up, and heâs willing to try anything needed to make it better; no matter how many times he had to apologize, or how many times he had to go over what he felt for her until she believed him.Â
âItâs okay, youâre okayâ His rough hands, for once, worked gently on something, cupping your cheeks with his palms, softly wiping away the hot tears. âWe donât have to get into it now, but you have to listen to me, love.â Â
âI fucked up. I shouldnât have left that night. I shouldnât have ignored what I did, I shouldâve gone right back and explain everything to you right away. I was fucking terrified of what I felt, and I had no idea of how to even go about it, and I still donât.â He pressed you back against him, careful shaky hands caressing your soft hair as he tucked your face under his. The rest of his words murmured against the top of your hair in a tone so vulnerable it felt almost foreign coming out of him. âI promise Iâll get there. Let me try again, yeah? One more time?âÂ
The slow quiet feel of his heartbeat against you felt soothing, the only comfort you wanted could only come from him, and now that you got it, it was next to impossible to not want to stay right here. Your hands held onto his jacket, tightly enough to ground yourself, to show yourself this was it, not just some daydream of how youâd want things to go. âJust donât leave me like that again.âÂ
âI wonât go anywhere.â It was rasped out, low, sincere.Â
It didnât change how he made you feel, it didnât change what he did, and there still many things left to say. But you wanted this, you wanted him, so you might as well let this be the new start you kept hoping for.Â
tw: slight sexual objectification, use of tentacles, otherwise just major sillies <3
Methinks that Octopus!König would be the most adorable little critter ever!
Octopus!König wears his sniper hood to hide the tendrils of which each has a mind of its own, absent-mindedly curling and uncurling during long briefings or tense situations. As a child, he had a bad habit of pulling on them and pinching the tips, deliberately causing himself mild discomfort as a way of distraction from his anxiety. It did not help much.
Octopus!König, thanks to his tentacles, is able to brush his teeth and wash his face at the same time. One tendril is curled around the tooth brush's handle while a couple of others contort into spirals that travel all over his scarred skin, shortening the amount of time spent in the bathroom every morning, but only insignificantly. He also uses them to wipe sleep off of his eyes, which makes him infuriatingly cute. The first time you saw him do that unmasked, he learned what cuteness agression is.
Despite all of his great physical and non-physical qualities, Octopus!König hasn't had many partners before you. A part of that reason is the fact that they are usually freaked out by the tentacles - not by the sight necessarily, but not everyone fancies the feeling of suction cups on their skin, especially in the morning when he's trying to initiate cuddles or something more. In fact, he used to wear his hood during casual hookups and one-night stands for this very reason, so his partners wouldn't feel uncomfortable. When you started seeing each other, it took a long time before he was brave enough to walk around unmasked and even longer before he put his tentacles on you outside of sex.
Speaking of... Octopus!König was pretty surprised that you were the one who proposed it first. Sure, other partners before you have asked for the tentacles during sex since most of them only viewed the appendages just as a kind of sex toy, often making König feel objectified. But not you, not his kleiner Fisch. You asked politely, albeit a little breathlessly, to use them on you. He gladly obliged, using years of experience to provide you with the highest amount of pleasure he could manage. After the intense love-making, he quickly began to withdraw his appendages to "put the toys back in the box". But then you grabbed one of them oh so gently, face still blissed out from your session as you nuzzled and kissed the wet surface of the tentacle. He searched for any sign of disgust or forced affection, but found none.
Since then, Octopus!König doesn't hesitate to initiate this kind of contact with you. Most of the mornings, it feels like his tendrils crawl to you before he even wakes up, suction cups gently loving on your skin during the sunrise, wrapping around your neck, arms, playing with the neckline of your sleeping attire, sliding under the fabric and lovingly cupping your chest, his lips pressing against your temple, cheek and jaw until you roll over and wrap yourself around him in soft retaliation.
Another thing you two love to do together is cooking. It's needless to say that Octopus!König is incredibly useful in the kitchen, but he's also very much of a black hole and therefore a constant danger to whatever you're trying to make. It's hard enough to keep an eye on his hands, but eight sneaky appendages?! You can't turn around without a piece of meat going missing or fruit disappearing. At one point, you decided to protect the nuts you needed for baking cookies with your own body, pouring the entire bowl down into your shirt. It did not deter him in the slightest - in fact, he was worse than a mosquito after that.
Although you never told him about your oral fixation, it was rather obvious to Octopus!König from the start of your relationship; he'd see you chew gum, tooth picks and even his fingers all the time and know that there's no way in hell you wouldn't have it. It was only a matter of time before you'd start trying to get your hands (or rather mouth) on his tendrils too. Truth be told, he was a little hesitant - after all, they're sensitive. But how could he resist your cute little puppy eyes? He watched as you gently grabbed one of the tentacles, giggling as it wiggled in your grasp, stroking your cheek. When you finally wrapped your lips around the fat tip and gently nibbled on the gummy substance like a teething puppy, he couldn't help but let out a soft moan, his sensitive appendage stiffling in your hold. And even then, he was naive enough to think this wouldn't become a daily routine - his tentacle in your mouth during movie cuddles, long car rides, even napping! Once, you caught yourself reaching for his tendril in the waiting room of a hospital during a wait for your appointment but thankfully, you caught yourself just in time to awkwardly tuck it back under his hood. It's needless to say he spent the rest of the waiting grinning like an idiot (and also a little hard).
You will NEVER catch Octopus!König off guard on deployment. Doesn't matter how awry the mission goes or if he's ambushed, this man would find a way out of a hurricane's eye and call it a walk in a morning breeze. But outside of field? He's as jumpy as a bunny. You try to not spook him much, but sometimes, you just can't help it! You weren't quite sure why he was so adamant on you being as noisy as possible while approaching him, but you decided to fuck around one afternoon and then, you indeed found out. You padded over the carpet towards him from behind and tickled his sides, expecting him to shriek or swat your hands away. You think you would have prefered any of that over what transpired. He sharply spun around and fucking inked you right in the face. You stood there speechless, eyes wide as you stare at each other. You blink and wipe some of the indigo substance off your cheek, bringing your fingers to your face to sniff it when he grabs your wrist with a shriek:
"ScheiĂe, don't lick it!"
"I wasn't going to!"
"Truly?"
"...I kind of want to now."
"Liebling, no!"
During the nights, you like to lie atop Octopus!Konig's chest, your cheek smushed against the warm flesh, ear pressed to his pecs as you listen to the sound of not one, but three life-driving muscles that beat steadily as you draw invisible patterns with your finger across his skin. One of his warm hands is on your lower back while the other one strokes your hair, his callouses a rough contrast to the overall softness of you, his little love.
"Do you know what I find strange?" you mumble suddenly.
He pauses his strokes.
"What, Fisch?"
"You have three hearts," you begin. "Two of them pump blood into your gills. But only one pumps blood into the rest of your body."
The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, his tendrils sneaking down his neck to gently twist between your locks and tug on them lovingly.
"That's not quite accurate, Liebe."
You frown softly, feeling one of his tentacles under your chin as he makes you look up, your bottom lip jutting out in a small pout.
"What do you mean?"
He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he reaches out to cup your cheek and pull you up to press his lips against yours for a brief moment before he whispers, eyelids droopy with love:
"I have three hearts. Two of them pump blood into my gills. One pumps blood to the rest of my body. But all of them beat just for you."
