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sugurusdiscordmoderator · 11 months ago

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Captain Levi One Shot

A/N : Takes place like 10 years before the AOT universe, please don’t fact check my shit I know some of it doesn’t line up with cannon lmao. In this Petra is not yet a part of squad Levi.

I’m thinking about doing a series of one shots for this version of Levi x reader but would love some feedback!

26f reader x 29m captain Levi

content warning: alcohol , hangover vomiting (so sorry), blood, minor injuries, masturbation (both f and m)

—

You had worked so damn hard. You had worked so hard for almost 10 years to get where you are.

Graduating as a part of the 95th corps of cadets, (#3 in your class none the less), you took on the challenge joining the scouts. You took on the challenge of knowing your best friends, your adopted family, would die. You could’ve had a cushy life as an MP and never lay an eye on a titan but no, you just had to be brave.

10 years is a long time to last as a scout. Only a few have lasted longer and you’re wondering when it’ll be your turn. You’re nearly 26 at this point, are you going to have to slow down?

Your superiors decided to throw you a party for hitting the 10 year mark. A get together at a pub in town that closed for an evening to be private for all scouts and military that wanted to come. The ones left of your cadet class came, plus most of the scouts since you were a friendly face and a great mentor.

Hange and Petra were two of your closest friends, they made you a cake! Everyone else was buying you drinks and having a great time. You made your rounds to thank everyone for coming and say hi.

You go up to the table in the corner last, being the most intimidating of the group. Captain Erwin, and a few from his troop were seated including Miche, Gunther, Tomas, Eld, and Dieter. Oh, and the dark storm cloud in the corner, Levi. Captain Levi.

Something about that man, you can’t tell if it pissed you off or if you were attracted to his stormy look. He has only been in the scouts for a few years but, he has far surpassed everyone to earn the title of Captain and earn the special operations squad. He didn’t have a ton of respect as a leader, considering his past which always came about in hushed whispers and stolen glances.

“Ah Miss L/N!” Erwin booms as he watches you approach the table “the celebrity of the evening has graced us with her presence!” Yeah, he’s definitely had a few drinks. You give most of the table a hug before Erwin booms “Excuse me,,, Excuse Me! Yeah I’d like to make a toast to celebrate one amazing scout, y/n l/n”

He turns you around to face everyone in the pub and you catch Levi’s eye for a second, letting a soft smile show. Your drinks and shots everyone had been buying you are catching up and you catch yourself blushing at Levi’s lingering eyes on you. If only you knew why.

As Erwin goes on a great toast speech about how much you’ve grown in 10 years, how great you are, etc. you can’t help but feel immense pride, something you’re not used to as a rather insecure person. Then your attention gets roped back in as Erwin places his hands on your shoulders give you a little shake like a proud dad.

“So to finish my toast, I want to congratulate miss l/n on becoming the newest member of the special operations squad under captain Levi.”

Your jaw drops as the pub errupts in loud cheers turning around to give Erwin a huge hug, since he is the highest rank here commander shadis must have trusted him with this information.

The raven haired stoic man stands up from his seat and comes closer to you and gives you a crisp salute which you mirror back. Probably not as crisp with the way you feel a little wavy. He then sticks his hand out for a handshake as you grab ahold he speaks, “welcome to the team kid.”

You smile at him “Thank you sir! The pleasure is mine!” He’s going to teach you to be less formal with him eventually but appreciates your response for the time being.

You are both surprised at your impulsive decision of deciding to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him an enthusiastic hug. You swear you feel his chest let out a chuckle but hear him grunt, “tch, get off”. You pull away ready to apologize but see a little smirk on his face as he sits back down. All of Erwin’s table saw the encounter and chose to avoid eye contact. As you giddy-ly ran over to Hange and Petra to celebrate.

The rest of the night consisted of singing, dancing, drink-offs with some of the men, and if you weren’t crazy you could’ve sworn Levi was keeping a close eye on you.

Once closing time hits you and some of the scouts you were close with stumbled back to your base. Levi, Erwin, and Miche suspiciously decided to leave just as you were. Following not too closely behind you.

—

As you get back to your room and ready for bed you stumble a little as you put on your pajamas of a tshirt, no bra, and booty shorts. You’re humming to yourself as you put the uniform from today aside to wash and about to crawl in your bed that looks soooo comfy when

*knock knock knock* gently taps on your door

Assuming it is Petra or Hange drunk you giggle walking up to the door. You swing open the old wood, creaking to your surprise is your new captain.

“Soldier. Sorry for stopping uh unannounced. I wanted to give you this since you looked like you had fun tonight. Integration starts tomorrow at 8 AM.”

You form a salute, right hand over your breast as your dainty nipples show through your white tshirt. He pretends not to notice, suppressing the urge to look at your body he has never seen outside of uniform.

“Thank you captain. I hope you sleep well. Goodnight,” your voice sounds like silk although raspy from singing and yelling all night. Nobody has ever wished him a good nights sleep and he is a little dumbfounded. “Goodnight l/n” he whispers as you gently shut the door on him.

He brought you fruit and some water in a nice basket, surely that will help with your hangover that you’ll have to figure out by 8 am. You think of all the things people whisper about Captain Levi, how he’s a heartless monster, incapable of feelings, barely human. You can’t believe them and decide to put your utmost respect into your captain, wondering how he put together something special like this in such a short notice.

—

The next morning you are awake at the break of daylight, about 7 am. This gives you an hour to get cleaned up eat and get to the training grounds, but god do you feel like shit. As you’re about to get in the shower you feel your stomach bubbling and make it just in time to the bucket to throw up. Well throwing up sucks, but at least you feel a tiny bit better. You get a rather quick shower and throw your hair into a low bun with some pieces sticking out and put on your uniform. Eating an apple and drinking water that Levi brought you in the early hours of the morning. You decide ultimately that this is your fault for drinking too much, and hope since it is the first day of integration Levi would take it easy on you.

Oh, how you were so wrong.

“L/n, you look like shit.” Your captain spits harshly.

“My apologies captain.” You say not looking him directly in the eyes with your hand over chest in salute.

“10 laps around the field to get started.” Oh god you have to run while hungover, but you can’t tell him no. Maybe this is some type of test to him? He knows how much you drank last night because he was keeping a watchful eye on his new team member. You begin running as Miche and Levi chat, quietly enough you can’t hear them over the pounding in your head.

Just as you hit the sixth lap you feel a bubbling in your tummy again. Oh no, not in front of him. Before you can even try to hide it, you’re doubled over throwing up the rest of the contents in your stomach.

And then, silence. No Miche and Levi chatting, no background noise from the base, just silence. This has to be a test. He wants to see if you’ll keep going or give up on the very first exercise. You use the backside of your jacket sleeve to wipe your face and begin the 6th lap. You’re half done, just push through.

As someone who typically doesn’t struggle too much with running you are shocked at your inability to hold yourself to a high standard this morning. You nearly collapsed as you finished the 10th lap. Bent over with your hands on your knees you wait for Captain Levi to address you.

“Next you’ll be timed on your ODM gear maneuvering through the dummies.” Your face goes pale at the thought of flying through the air right now, but you don’t have a choice. “Yes sir” you respond breathlessly standing up fully again.

You don’t notice the goosebumps that appear on Levi’s skin when you call him Sir or Captain, and he tries to ignore them. Watching as you strap on your ODM gear as you struggle with a particular thigh strap, he sulks over, looking down at your gear. Your big eyes look back up at him, still fumbling your fingers at the same time.

“Here,” he takes over where your hands were, grasping the leather straps tightly and fastening it together so that it squeezes your nice thighs just enough.

“You look like shit,” he says lowly, finally making eye contact with you.

“I’m so sorry sir, is there something wrong with my uniform? How can I fix it?” You ask like a good subordinate.

“Don’t drink the night before training.” He says turning around not looking at you anymore.

You scoff in disbelief at his words, and he waits for your next move.

“My apologies again Captain, but I was not aware of my promotion until last night and not aware of this training until I was already home from the pub. I think it’s rather unfair to-” you’re cut off by the lightning quick movements of the captain who is now gripping your collar of your uniform jacket, almost lifting you off your seat.

“Rule number one - don’t talk back to me” he growls inches from your face.

“Rule number two - always be prepared as a part of squad Levi. We are the special operations squad for a reason, we could leave at a moments notice.”

“Rule number three - you must always look and act your best for training.”

All the while he spoke down to you staring into your eyes. You didn’t dare looking away from the steel gray eyes boring into yours. “Yes sir” you squeak out. He drops your shirt collar, brushing off the wrinkles he just created. And your ass collided back down with the bench you were sitting on. He begins to walk away with a “I’ll be waiting” as he heads towards the wooded area of the training grounds.

You’re trying to wrap your head around what just happened and how your superior talked to you like that when most of this was out of your control completely.

It was then you realized this morning was all one big test. To see how much you needed to be broken down in order for him to build you back up and form you into one of his soldiers.

But you didn’t ask for this promotion, you didn’t receive a warning, you didn’t even get to say bye to your old squad leader.

You try your best to hold your head high, cleaning your blades as you walk in the directly Levi walked a minute ago. Trying to push down all of the demons punishing you for your actions from last night. Mentally you need to get with it if you’re going to prove yourself to Levi this morning that you’re fit to be a part of his squad. You don’t think he’s ever watched you before, at least not in battle, per your knowledge. The last thing you need is him thinking you are a weak link in his group.

You finally approach him at the beginning of the course, trying to maintain cool headedness and confidence. After all you’ve done this course thousands of times over 10 years in the scouts. I mean, they change it sometimes but not by a whole lot.

Not even looking over at you Captain Levi says “I’ll start the stopwatch when you start going. Miche is on the other side to signal a flare once you make it to the end.”

You nod to your self, stretching your back and neck a little before you go. You bound off the ground propelling with as much speed as you can. Your technique is a little different from most, whereas you don’t necessarily have as much speed as you do strength. Your cuts are so deep and clean on the nape of the titan that you are sure fire a kill if you can just get there. You move easily from side to side due to your core strength and kind of look like a mix of a ballerina and a ninja on your good days. Your technique is just weird enough they don’t let you help teach the new recruits.

Flying, adjusting to the new dummies that pop up, it actually feels pretty nice and comforting to help your hangover. You finish the course with ease but your ODM gear fails to hook on one side as you hit the last row of trees. You’re thrown off balance and end up hitting the tree Miche was leaning on with a thud. Luckily, as soon as you made contact Miche shot the flare so you would get a better time, but you lay on the ground groaning. A little blood dripping out of your eyebrow and nose, and cuts on the arms of your uniform.

Levi had already begun swinging to where the ending point was but began speeding up after he ended the timer. He landed on his feet so elegantly and precise, making Miche laugh. Neither of the men helped you up for a minute as you laid there with your hand over your face, red from embarrassment but reminding you that you may throw up again or pass out at any moment.

“3 minutes 9 seconds. Not bad for…your current condition” he says leaning down to look at your face. “You’ll be doing this again when you’re through with your hangover, and I expect it to be spotless. With a much better landing.”

“Yes captain,” you groan. Not being able to hold yourself together much at this point. He grabs a cloth out of his pocket and hands it to you. You do your best to clean the eyebrow and whatever nose wound you have, it may very well be broken.

“Up next is hand to hand combat. Since you are already torn up, I’ll let you chose who you fight against rather than myself, but it has to be someone from the squad.”

The rest of the team was finishing up breakfast walking out to the grounds that hand to hand combat training usually takes place. You were supposed to meet the team and then get your ass handed to you by Levi, but I guess he’s feeling nice watching you try to twist your nose back to its original place. As you finally stand up off the hard ground you stumble a few steps before bending over to throw up one last time. Levi happened to catch you off balance and patted your back while you dry heaved a little.

Levi, the clean freak, comforting you? After you just fucked up your integration training? You brush it off and size up your potential opponents as you want over. You then realize, you’re the first woman to be a part of squad Levi . Is that why the captain is making you do all this? A sexist power move to make you feel inferior to the rest?

The squad is chatting as the three of you walk up to them and fall silent, all eyes on you. Levi brushes past you “everyone this is y/n l/n, she will be joining the special operations squad effective immediately. Right now she is sizing all of you up to see who she can handle in hand to hand combat.” You do your best to remain confident and not shy away as all the well accomplished men look over to you.

“Captain Levi” you pipe up with less courage than you thought you had.

“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I want to go against you, Captain.”

The whole crowd of men goes silent, they think you have a death wish or maybe you already hit your head too hard given the dried blood already on your face.

“Fair enough l/n, I’ll give you a few minutes to get ready.” He takes off his uniform cape and jacket and set it neatly down next to where all the men are standing. You are busy unstrapping your ODM gear, moving to the side so you can set it down gently. You sign when you take all of it off, feeling 15 pounds lighter. You following Levi’s suit, you take off your uniform jacket as well.

This leaves both of you in your white button up shirts. You size Levi up and down, trying to determine when his weak spots are. You see the way his biceps move under the tight shirt as he undoes his cravat. The men of squad Levi are still just men, most of them looking at the way some of the buttons on the chest of your shirt are a little too snug so to your growing tits. You note to yourself to get the next size up shirt when you feel this happen.

You and Levi both walk to the center of the training grounds with most of squad Levi surrounding and a few others that happened to be walking around on this crisp Saturday morning. Levi gets settled in a fighting stance and you follow as he does. “Begin” he says in his low emotionless voice. You step closer to him to begin throwing attacks towards his upper body, most getting blocked but an attempt to elbow his side proved efficient. He throws a series of hits towards you and you manage to dodge a few of them, but are struggling to breathe after a solid punch to the stomach. You think this is a pretty fair match up until he says “tch is that all you have? I’m getting bored.” He speeds up his hit combos, giving you less time in between to recover as you do your best to land a kick on him. His reaction time is way better than yours, grabbing your right ankle and flipping you through the air to have you fall onto your back. You see stars as your head collides with the ground. He has not rendered you out yet, grabbing your arm and twisting it go go behind your back, using the fake little dagger they use for training and press it to your neck. Luckily, you both were facing away from the crowd of people.

“You really thought you could take me? I even gave you the option to fight someone else and you were so cocky you thought you could beat me? Tch, your form and performance today disgusts me. Dismissed.”

Levi stands up and walks back towards the barracks by himself, not talking with anyone and rather pissy it seems. The men left there disperse as you lay on your back trying to fight back tears, your hands covering your face. As soon as the coast is clear Hange and Petra run to your side. “We were watching from the building to see what would happen… I’m so sorry y/n”

So embarrassed, the only reaction you have is to grunt as they help you stand and help you back over to where your room is.

You collapse as they help you get into your room, exhausted and defeated.

“Y/n… do you wanna talk about it?” Petra asks softly playing with your dirt filled hair, head hanging in your hands as your slouched up against your desk.

“Please, I love you guys just I need to be alone,” you say back to them, and without looking up you hear them shuffle out and close the door.

You sit there with your head racing, trying to figure out where you went wrong. Yes, you were drunk last night but you didn’t even do that on purpose! And he could’ve told you earlier in the night so you could’ve stopped drinking and went to bed earlier yes, but he didn’t? This had to be a sick test.

What if Levi didn’t know you were joining his squad and this was some plan from the higher ups? What if Captain Levi didn’t want you on his squad at all and was trying to punish you today?

What if this is some type of hazing to get into the squad? And if you show up the next day or last a week you pass?

Why did your ODM gear fail? It had never done that to you before.

And yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to dislike the stoic man.

You gather the strength and your belongings and head to the showers. Not lifting your head, you walk blindly the hallways to the showers, having walked the same way for 5 years since your 5 year anniversary when you were given your upgraded room. As part of your promotion, you were given access to the superior showers, dedicated to veterans and officers. As you’re about to knock on the door to see if it is occupied, the door swings open.

Of course Captain Levi had just showered, because he had come inside earlier than you and didn’t have to sulk about his performance. You do your best to muster up a smile and move out of the way for him to leave. You can’t help but look over his sculpted shoulders and biceps, down to his chiseled abs, and the v-line with a happy trail up the middle connecting to the pristine white towel covering the rest.

“L/n,” he says with no emotion, “showers all yours.” He remains looking at your face, noting the eye bags and bloodshot eyes. You must have been crying after your performance today, he thinks to himself. Combined with the dried blood around your eyebrow and nose, he thinks you’ll need a long while in there to recupe.

You nod to him, he walks away and you can’t help but notice his little back dimples as well. You proceed with getting undressed and warming the shower up, ready to sit on the shower floor and cry more. Peeling off the dirty white shirt that will need scrubbed and feeling the cold air against your skin was like stripping off the fuck ups of this morning. You relax under the hot water, watching all the dirt and blood wash down the drain.

Your exhaustion and embarrassment from the morning take over and you begin to sob, crying like you never have before. Not even holding it back, if someone was walking past they surely could hear it. You’re not even sure what you’re technically upset about the most, but right now crying is just what helps. At this point you’re leaning on the tile, out of breath, hiccuping like a child that just finished screaming for their lost mother. You work up the strength to begin washing your long hair foaming shampoo into it and scrubbing. After conditioning and washing your body you are officially exhausted. Wrapping in your two towels and begin the walk back to your room which luckily wasn’t too far. Maybe that’s why Captain Levi also wore his towel leaving the shower.

As you return to your room you look at the fruit Levi brought you last night and sigh. Why would he do that just to kick your ass? You throw on some comfy clothes and crawl back in bed with wet hair, drifting off for a nap.

—

Waking in the early afternoon, you stretch and yawn as you climb out of bed. You begin getting dressed to go to dinner in some of your casual clothes, luckily you don’t have to wear your uniform on weekends. You opt for a button up baby blue flowy dress with a navy sweater over top and your non-work boots.

Assessing the damage of your face in the mirror, you notice the bruises forming around your eyebrow and your nose. You have some scrapes up and down your arms which is why you chose to wear the sweater over. Your body aches. After all the years you’ve spent as a scout you’ve hardly ever had injuries this bad. Never from training though.

As you’re about to head out the door you notice a letter slipped under your door. You assume it is a silly note from Hange trying to lighten your mood. Your grin fades as you see who has signed at the bottom.

“L/n,

Please come to my office after dinner to discuss your performance today.

Captain Levi”

Your stomach sinks. In all these years you’ve never been called to your superiors office. You slip the letter in your bra under your dress and begin to walk to go to dinner.

Luckily Hange and Petra are already seated and you try to slip in without anyone acknowledging you. Given the ass beating you received this morning with a lot of the scouts watching, they can’t help but grimace at your bruised face. You opt for some soup, bread, and vegetables and sit down avoiding eye contact of your peers. Hange and Petra go silent as they watch you take your first few bites.

“Y/n,” hange says gently, “you look awful.”

You do your best to fake a smile to her, pretending like nothing is wrong. “Y/n, please don’t pretend like you’re fine…we’re here to talk,” Petra adds.

“I am fine. I had a bad day of training and I was hungover. I am perfectly fine and will be better by Monday.” You snap back at the both of them. With that they decide to change the topic, and talk about events that are happening in the town square tomorrow. Something about a show and food vendors and lanterns, it’s supposed to be a pretty big deal.

“Do you want to go y/n?” Hange perks up, crossing her fingers that you’ll say yes.

“Maybe, hopefully tomorrow will be better than today.” You try regaining your positivity and friendliness everyone knows you for.

“Someone put a letter under my door while I was napping.” You suddenly change the topic. Petra and Hange look at you with eyebrows raised.

“Captain Levi wants to see me in his office after dinner,” you whisper so nobody around you can hear. “What if I’m getting kicked off for my performance today?”

“I’m sure that’s the last thing it is.” hange says rolling her eyes and taking a huge bite of her bread. Petra sighs, “y/n, don’t look but him and Erwin have been staring at you and whispering this whole dinner.”

Of course you look up to meet steel gray eyes looking back into your own. Instead of shying away you hold eye contact, letting him be the one to break first and turning to Miche on the other side of Erwin.

“I’m not some sad puppy. I’m not going to let one bad day in 10 years determine my future. If Captain Levi wants me to put up a fight, then so be it. Just because I’m the first girl on his squad doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and take their shit.” You are gaining your confidence back and are not going to falter and beg Levi to let you stay.

“We got the old y/n back,” Hange taunts to Petra, nudging you in the arm. You smile and ask them, “so what are your plans for tonight?”

—

After dinner you head back to your room to put a little makeup on. If this meeting goes well maybe you’ll go into town with Hange and Petra for a girls night. You find yourself wanting to look pretty, just in case, although you never cared about that before.

Levi is more than likely in his office now, as you watched him get up to leave shortly after you had the eye contact stand off. His office and sleeping quarters are just down the hall from you. You push down the butterflies growing within your stomach and sweaty palms as you grow closer to the door. You decide to stand there for a few seconds to control how fast your heart is beating and regain your composure.

However, in the time you stand there you hear noises from inside his office.

Typically if Captain Levi is in, he leaves the door opened a crack so people can welcome themselves in, but this time his door is completely shut. You decide to lean your ear up to the door to see if you actually heard something inside his room. Groaning and a slick noise can be heard, and you immediately blush backing away as quietly as possible.

Before you decide to turn around and go back to your room, your curiosity gets the better of you. You return your ear up to the door. Does Captain Levi have a girl over? Is it someone in the scouts? Your mind wanders as you listen to his beautiful groans and…wait… he’s by himself. Oh my god he’s jacking himself off. You hear him sliding his hand over his cock repeatedly.

You know this is wrong, you know you should walk away and pretend this never happened. But yet, you find a different type of butterflies growing in your stomach now. Not the nervous ones, but the horny ones. You’ve never thought about the captain like this and you know you shouldn’t but his voice is so damn sexy.. and the way you saw the water drop off his body after his shower today… you can’t help but imagine what he looks like right now.

“….y/n…” you hear the faintest moan come through the door and all the color drains from your cheeks. Does he know you’re standing there? No there’s no way he could. He’s getting off thinking about you. But isn’t that kind of fucked up considering everything he put you through today? Maybe he’s attracted to you and that’s how you got on squad Levi and it wasn’t your skills at all.

Your brain grows foggy, not being able to focus on all the ‘what if’s’ anymore but only able to focus on the heat growing between your legs. The speed of his strokes and the frequency of his heavy breathing indicates he is getting close. You feel yourself clench around nothing and right when you’re about to leave you hear it again.

“Fuck, y/n…” so faintly yet you couldn’t have imagined it, not twice. You hear a deep groan as you assume is him spilling his seed. Your mind can’t help wonder where he came, and what his cock looks like, and what he tastes like.

With that you are walking away from his door as quietly as possible and hurriedly walking back to your own. As soon as you’ve made it to your room, your cheeks flushed and so horny you can’t think about anything else. You lock the door and throw yourself onto the bed, pulling up your dress around your waist and lowering your panties. You haven’t relieved yourself in so long and you haven’t been touched by someone else in a few weeks. You run your delicate fingers up and down your slit gathering your wetness to spread it around your clit. Rubbing in small circles you let out a meek moan. The only thing taking up space in your horny brain right now is Captain Levi and the past 10 minutes that took place. You start pushing two fingers in and out of your tight hole thinking if it was him fingering you how it would feel. Would he talk down to you like he did when you were training this morning? The thought of that turns you on to a whole new level. You continue to get yourself off when you hear a distant pair of footsteps in the hallway. You can’t be bothered by how foggy your brain is to care if someone hears you. The cute squelching noises your pussy is making would be enough to send any man over the edge. Your climax is building up so fast you don’t notice how the footsteps come to a stop outside of your door. After another minute of keeping up your movements your orgasm washes over you and you can’t help but let out a throaty “Leeviii” as you feel your back arch off the bed.

You put your panties back on, wiping your hands off on a towel in your room and are finally catching your breath when there is a soft knock on the door.

Good god, the footsteps in the hallway, did someone just hear all that? You look in the mirror to check yourself before opening the door. It looks like you just ran a mile with the way your chest is moving and the blush that creeps across your chest up to your cheeks.

You unlock and open the door to find Captain Levi standing there arms crossed. Trying to hide the mortified expression on your face as the reality sinks in of the past 30 minutes you stutter as you go to greet him, “Captain Levi! How can I help you?” Smiling at him with a glow on your face post orgasm.

“I believe you received the note to see me in my office after dinner,” he sternly responds not an emotion in his eyes. Surely if he had heard you he would’ve at least blushed or something?

“Oh y-yes Captain. I’m so sorry, I stopped by but you were-” you cut yourself off realizing what you were about to say. “Um your door was closed so I was going to stop by again in a few minutes,” you hurriedly finish your thoughts, not being able to maintain eye contact with your superior.

“Ah well, I’m free now so if you wouldn’t mind joining me.” If you’re not mistaken he just smirked at you? Is he playing mind games with you? No there’s no way he knew you were outside of his door, but maybe he did hear you moaning.

“Yes sir,” you follow behind him as he begins the walk to his office.

Either Captain Levi is the cockiest motherfucker in the scouts or he is absolutely oblivious. Or is he a master manipulator? All of your thoughts race as you approach his door again. All the meanwhile you think about how you still can’t hate him.

As you enter into his quaint office you take in the scent of tea spices, a well organized desk and bookshelf, and a small table. You notice a garbage can under the desk with tissues in it and can’t help but wonder…

“Can I offer you some tea?” He asks, walking over to a door on the other side of the room with a tea kettle. “Yes please,” you respond and he goes through the door, which must lead to his sleeping quarters and some type of stove to heat water.

“Please have a seat,” he motions to the small table that has some scouts paperwork on it as he enters back into the room. “It’ll take a few minutes for the water to heat.” You nod, sitting as you try to keep your nerves under control. He is walking around the near space tidying belongings and disappears in the next room again. He comes back with a blanket and some firewood. Lighting a fire in the small fireplace. He hands you the blanket, “‘m sorry it gets cold in here when the sun goes down.” You nod to him placing it on your lap as you hear the tea kettle boiling in the next room over. Does he do this when he meets with all his subordinates? Surely not…. Unless he is as nice as you suspected he was?

Captain Levi returns with a tray with two tea cups the boiling water and a variety of tea bags. “Would you like to pick?” He holds the selection out to you. “Whatever you recommend, I don’t know a lot about tea,” you try to lighten the room with a little giggle but his face remains stoic as he picks two of the same tea bags, setting them aside before placing the tea cups on the table, filling them with the hot water and placing the tea bags in the cups. He sits down at the seat next diagonal from you at the square table, so you both are facing the fire. He then grabs the blanket off your lap, spreading it out so it covers both of you. Everything he does is so calculated, and you are at the edge of your seat to find out more about him and what this meeting is about.

Captain Levi sips his tea first.

He sighs and states without looking at you, “I’m sorry about this morning.”

“Please sir, don’t apologize, I understand it was my fault and I will do better.” You do your best to keep a positive smile on your face even though he isn’t looking at you.

“Another thing about being on my team, don’t fucking lie to me. I’d rather you tell me you’re miserable and hate my guts than be fake to me.”

You are taken aback by his words, you have never heard a captain or high rank want to be addressed less formally. “I-I’m sorry?” You stutter out. He ignores your apology. “Our squad eats every meal together. We all have our rooms around the same area which won’t be a problem since you’re not too far from here anyways. We train 6 days a week unless there is a mission or some sort of order from the higher ups. I highly advise no more drinking and no more romantic involvement with any men..er women I guess.” Still not speaking directly at you he is just holding his tea cup to his lips, not by the handle but holding his hand over top the rim.

“Yes, Captain.” You nod, and he finally looks over to you, studying your face. You grow self conscious until he says, “How is your face feeling? That looked like quite the tumble.” You chuckle, touching your eyebrow. “I think it looks worse than it is. I think I was more embarrassed than anything,” you shrug taking a sip of your tea.

“I know you probably think I’m out to get you, given your experience this morning.” He says still looking in your eyes. Before he finishes his thought you cut him off, “oh not at all sir!”

Levi ignores your objection, continuing, “We have to be the best. I treat my team like brothers. We’ll I guess..erm..sister now too.” He looks away with what looks like a slight pinkness on his cheeks.

“You’ve been in the Scouts for longer than most of our team. You have a good head on your shoulders, I just need to make sure you can keep up with us physically. That’s why I wanted to see how your injuries were holding up this evening.”

You nod, as this feels like a mental game of chess. Captain Levi survived in the underground for years, he is calculated, sharp, even scary smart.

“I’d like for you to choose someone to practice your hand to hand combat skills with over the next few integration trainings. You were pretty good but you have to get great.”

“Yes Captain… would you mind helping me with it? I’d like to learn from the best.” You grin and blush up at him.

“Are you trying to kiss my ass L/n? It’s going to take a lot more than flattery to get on my good side.” He looks over at you with a slight smirk on his face and a playful tone, one of the first times you’ve ever seen him like this.

“Then what else would it take? To get on your good side?” You dare start flirting with your captain, feeling awfully bold and somewhat unhinged after all the events that have taken place today.

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself,” he says in a low, sultry tone as his eyes look from yours down to your lips and back. He reaches his hand over and you freeze, but he wipes off some tea from the corner of your lip and retreats his hand back.

“So I have to ask… since you said you stopped by earlier. I heard some footsteps approach my door while I was attending to some … personal matters.. and it seems they stopped and listened for a few minutes. You didn’t happen to see who it was did you?” Levi smirks staring at the fireplace, knowing he has caught you red handed as your face blushes hard.

“Next time, just knock. I could have used some assistance. It sounded like you needed some to,” he has a shit eating cocky grin, being the master manipulator he is looking over to you with your jaw dropped.

Link to part 2

#levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #levi smut #levi ackerman #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #snk #snk levi

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voidsentprinces · 7 months ago

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Join FFXIV we got:

Fuckable Monster Gods, Yandere General, SUCH DEVASTATION, Malevolent Breadloaf, Hate Fuck Philosophy between Church's Money Illiterate Doomslayer and the Heretical Dragon fuckers, Bestest Boy, Butch Scholar with an axe, France with hot single elves, Lesbian Gunslingers, Manwhore of Astrology, his love rival and the asexual woman who has no clue, Inner Feral State, his legal partner and their adopted daughter, Murder Bimbo, his angry red head and their sadistic feral viceroy with her himbo henchman, Hopeless Romantic who gets bullied, his very heterosexual tribe of male only warriors, the apeshit warlock stealing his women while being transpiritual and a shepherd wife, frat boy emperor, Iroh Samurai and the sickest ninja woman ever, Your Own Personal Catboy, his eligible straightforward daughter who is also captain the guard, THE HIMBO FAMILY complete with bomb throwing cat girl, adoptive mechanical nonbinary child, and psychotic hard line temper mother, entire village of rabbit woman, the most love struck catboy outside the Crystarium and his religious group, an entire kingdom of nonbinary fae folk and their they/them King, the Ghosts of Christmas Past as well the Ghost of Christmas Present with his talking dog, THE TRUEST BESTEST BOY and his robot companion, the Dragon Father and his brood of angsty teenagers, Genocidal Tsundere Emperor, his grandson no-nonsense Emperor and the pretty boy handsome girl of ancient times, the hero worshiping companion of eld who doesn't remember you BUT YOU CAN FIX HIM!, a entire continent of nerds ripe for the punching, an entire continent of geeks ripe for picking on you and your companions including their leader SCIENCE WIFE, SUCH DEVASTATON's extended family who will remain perfect if you don't touch that fucking side quest, an entire moon of bunny people not to be confused with the village of rabbit women but while we're talking about rabbit people have this stoic and handy rabbit man and his VERY ENTHUSIASTIC TRANS LION FRIEND! Did we mention you get a punchy very enthusiastic woman clad in red? Drop by Ala Mhigo she is always happy to help you punch things! Also while you're there meet the main soldier you're deprogramming from the Garlean Cult he likes giving buuz to people and has this...Great Dane vibe, I don't know how else to describe it. Got a moment? Meet your adoptive family, a knife daughter and her hammer girlfriend, a sword daughter and her scholarly brother, an entire orphanage out of both Ul'dah AND Idyllshire, and a berb daughter who almost ended the entire universe because she COUDLNT STOP FEELING!!!!!!!!!! Also meet more monsters for you to fuck Flayed Demon, MUSCLE GODDESS, Cowabunga, grumpy fire man, and Knight in Shining Identity Theft, and their friend nonbinary lass who can kill AND EAT! There is, of course, also...adoptive fathers in partnership with you and knife daughter, wine aunt of a thousand Fire IVs, a cantankerous short lad, scholar woman who is getting into art, Tataru the Most Powerful and Important Character in the game and therefore the only one I shall refer to by name here, THE HORNIEST WOMAN IN ALL OF FICTION, two Roegadyn brothers, a fabulous elezen healer and her exasperated sister, the adoptive mother and legendary dancer AND bartender, an equally exasperated woman who just convinced her patriarch to retire from adventuring, a short Sultana, an oblivious Seedseer, and the greatest admiral to grace this franchise, General Father and his son from the Shire, the inventor with a heart of gold, his companions, their stern manager, and the gremlin man who is here to make the inventor eat his shirt while laughing. AND THATS JUST THE PEOPLE IN THE MAIN STORYLINE.

So join FFXIV today.

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obeymeshallwedateaddict · 3 months ago

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I keep on imagining what it would be like if MC was a fusion like Garnet from Steven Universe. But instead of rocks they’re literally just made up of 2 people who just decide they want to be one. Their souls would just combine into one really big soul so none one would really notice other then MC has this gigantic ass soul.

That would be until the two people that make up MC get into a massive argument that causes them to split and cease MC from existing until they make up and decide to be one once again.

I’d really like to see your headcanons for this with the brothers. 🙏🏾

Hello. To be honest your request confused me a little but when I put the idea into words it became a nice and engaging story. I modified your request a little. I hope you don't mind. Though the main idea is there. Enjoy.

Summary: MC was a fusion. And one day the two souls who created them, divided which caused the MC to disappear. And so the brothers and the undateables try to find a way to bring them back.

Contains: Angst

GN!MC

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

When souls collide

You had a secret. A big one at that. You hide it from the brothers. And you refuse to tell them. They needn't know. Or at least that's what you thought.

You were different. You weren't a regular human being. You were never born. Never carried in a woman's womb. You just began existing when two people merged their souls together into one. You were their combined form. As for your soul. It was a big one. Not a regular one. Since the humans did combine their souls into one. It's a combination between them two. But one day everything changed.

It was a regular day in the Devildom. You were spending time with the brothers like usual but something felt off. The two humans whose souls you held got into an argument and they divided which made you suddenly disappear from existence. The brothers immediately panicked.

Mammon: Wh-what?! MC?! No! MC!! Where are ya! MC!! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME LIKE THAT!

Asmo: MC, sweetheart? MC, where did you go???

Satan: MC? What happened to MC? Mammon what did you do to them?!?

Mammon: Don't blame me!! I ain't done anything! I was just playing cards with them when they suddenly disappeared!

Mammon's eyes tear up. He is ready to begin crying. While Leviathan is already sobbing uncontrollably. Beel is trying to soothe Levi by petting him on the shoulder while also letting a few sobs.

Belphie: I'll get Lucifer! I hope he knows something about this.

The youngest brother runs to Lucifer's study, bursting in without knocking.

Lucifer: How many times do I have to tell you, you idiots to knock before coming in-

Belphie: Lucifer! Lucifer, something terrible happened! MC disappeared! Please do something! Lucifer!

The eldest looks over at his younger brother with a debating look.

Lucifer: You're lying. Now leave. I'm busy.

Belphie: Lucifer! It's the truth please.. MC is nowhere to be seen! And they were just with us! They were right there! Please.

Belphegor lets out a sob which catches Lucifer's attention and concern appears in the eldest's face.

The Avatar of Pride drops his pen and rushes out of the door, followed by Belphegor on his way to the living room where he saw the rest of his brothers all upset and troubled. Lucifer sucked in a breath and put his hand over his mouth.

Mammon: Lucifer! –He sobs– please.. please do something! Please.. MC! They're gone! Lucifer I'm not lying please!

Satan: Lucifer as much as I hate asking you to do something for me please help me find out what happened to them.

Lucifer looked around the room, settling his gaze on Beelzebub.

Lucifer: Beel, could you watch over your brothers while me and Satan go to the demon lord's castle to talk to Diavolo?

The teary orange-haired demon nods, muttering a broken "okay" before Lucifer motions to the fourth-born to stand up.

Both demons walk to the demon lord's castle. Both of them are upset. Satan's tears are falling down his cheeks even if he controls himself from crying while the eldest barely holds his tears in.

MC was an important part of their family. Dearly loved by each of the brothers. And now that they're gone the demons were torn.

Lucifer barged in the castle with his younger brother behind him.

Lucifer: Diavolo! I need to talk to you! Fast! It's urgent! –The demon yells with a shaky voice.

Satan: Lucifer, compose yourself.

The eldest nods and swallows a sob.

Barbatos shows up from the halls of the castle with a welcoming smile on his face.

Barbatos: Lucifer? The Young Master didn't expect a visit from you. And you brought Satan along with you as well?

Lucifer: Barbatos, get me Diavolo. I need to talk to him. It's urgent, related to MC.

Upon hearing Lucifer's words Barbatos' smile fades and with a nod the demon walks to the prince's chambers, calling out for him.

When Diavolo walked out of his chamber he looked happy about the fact that Lucifer decided to visit him. The demon walked in front of Barbatos, leading him to the entrance hall. And waved at Lucifer upon seeing him. But when he noticed Lucifer's beat expression, happiness turned into concern.

Diavolo: Lucifer: You look pale. Is something wrong?

Lucifer: MC disappeared. I.. I don't know anything. I don't know what happened.. I was hoping you would know something..

Diavolo: What? How could that possibly happen? Are you sure, Lucifer?

Satan: Lucifer isn't lying, lord Diavolo. It happened before my very eyes! Mammon was playing cards with MC when they suddenly disappeared into thin air! And I didn't sense any magic involved!

Diavolo nods and thinks for a second before looking at Barbatos.

Diavolo: Barbatos. Get Satan and investigate what happened at the exact same time. Me and Lucifer will check MC's information forms to seek clues.

Lucifer nodded and headed up the stairs with Diavolo following him to the prince's office. While Barbatos led Satan to his room. Both of them got back in the past to the exact same moment MC disappeared. Barbatos replayed the exact same moment again and again, trying to figure out what happened. As for Satan his eyes teared up again after seeing MC disappear multiple times before his very eyes. Both of them were uneasy.

Diavolo pulled out MC's documents for the exchange program, giving one half to Lucifer and handling the other. After some time Lucifer's eyes widen

Lucifer: Diavolo? Have you seen this before? It says that MC is a fusion between two human beings.. They weren't born like a regular human...

Diavolo: A fusion you say? Hm.. I've heard of this phenomenon before. A fusion is created upon two individuals emerging their souls into one. But they can always separate again if they decide. I've never heard of humans doing it before..

Both of them lose themselves in thought before Lucifer stands up and leaves the room in a rush. The demon walks to Barbatos' room and knocks forcefully on the door. Barbatos lets him in and when he enters he sees his younger brother sitting on a chair, sobbing uncontrollably, his face hidden behind the palms of his hands

Barbatos: We saw what happened and yes, MC did actually disappear.. did you and the Young Lord find anything?

Lucifer: MC was a fusion.

Barbatos' eyes widen and he looks over at the Avatar of Pride with shock in his eyes.

Barbatos: Fusion.. hm.. Well that explains MC's disappearance. The two humans she was created by, divided. Likely because of an argument.

Lucifer walks over to Satan, putting a hand on his shoulder as he looks over at Barbatos with an empty expression. Soon enough he speaks again.

Lucifer: That means the two humans have to make up and emerge their souls again for MC to exist again..

Satan whines upon hearing his brother's words and wraps his arms tightly around him which causes Lucifer's eyes to widen. He caresses Satan's back in an attempt to soothe him.

Lucifer: Barbatos, what can we do?

Barbatos: We have two options. We can either find the two humans which would be a complicated process and force them to combine their souls again to which MC will begin existing again. But they will likely have lost their memories. Or..

Satan lets out a louder sob upon hearing Barbatos' words and Lucifer pulls him a bit tighter.

Lucifer: Or?

Barbatos: Or we could use magic to bring them back by combining all of our memories with them until they create a living being which would be our MC. With the same memories, emotions and mindset.

Lucifer's eyes widen and he nods.

Lucifer: Then that's what we are supposed to do? How is it done?

Satan: Once I read about a ritual that... That combines people's memories into a person.. I know how to do it...

Suddenly the door opens and Diavolo walks in. He had been. Standing outside the door during the whole conversation and so he heard everything.

Diavolo: And so do I. Satan let me take this over.

The future demon king turns over to Lucifer before speaking.

Diavolo: I contacted the angels and Solomon as well as the rest of your brothers Lucifer. They are likely waiting in the entrance hall. Solomon said that he is acquainted with the ritual and he will help me as well.

After Diavolo's words. The four demons head to the entrance hall. The sight is heart breaking.

The angels are in tears, Simeon's embracing Luke. While the five other brothers barely contain their tears.

Solomon is drawing a magic circle on the marble floors of the entrance hall.

Lucifer and Satan walked over to the rest of the brothers. Lucifer turned into is demon form, wrapping his wings around the members of his family in a warm embrace. Reassuring them that everything will be okay.

Solomon: The magic circle is complete. We can begin the ceremony.

Diavolo nods before speaking up.

Diavolo: Officers of the student council. Your demon forms. Now.

Upon the prince's words the demons turn into their demon forms.

Solomon: Simeon, Luke. Your angel forms..

The angels take their angel forms.

All creatures in the room gather around the circle and take each other's hands.

Solomon: I, Solomon, command you, spirits of memory, gather now and bind the thoughts of all present. From our shared past, forge a creature of our collective will. By my name, let it take form and walk among us!

Upon his words a blinding light appears from the middle of the circle. Soon after the light disappeared a person appeared in the middle of the circle. It was MC.

All of the brothers' eyes widen and they run up to the weak human, laying on the ground.

All brothers together: MC!

Mammon takes them into his arms and hugs them tightly. The rest of the brothers gather in a group hug, embracing the newly appeared human.

After all the adrenaline from seeing MC again passes the brothers take MC to The House of Lamentation. There all of them hang around MC like it's been a century since they last met. Simeon, Luke, Solomon, Barbatos and Diavolo soon joined the family in The House of Lamentation. All 12 of them shared the joy of their reunion with MC.

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darkdemeter · 1 month ago

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𝑀𝒶𝓅 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓂, "𝐸𝒹𝑒𝓃'𝓈 𝒢𝒶𝓉𝑒 / 𝐹𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓇" 𝒰𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝐸𝓁𝒹 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓊𝓂

#universe of eld #darksiders au #darksiders

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myreia · 9 months ago

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FEBHYURARY XVIII: SHARD

Azem. A part of her has been numb since first she heard those fateful syllables, her restless mind returning again and again to the same questions. How much of her is… well… her? And how much of it is another? Are the decisions she makes truly her own? Do they come from her own judgement? Or is she simply a puppet dancing on the strings, her actions—even her damn personality—an echo of the woman who came before her? She knows both too little and too much about her, this woman of the ancient past. The progenitor of not only Aureia herself, but Ardbert, too, and countless others whose names and faces she will never know. A single soul broken to pieces like shards of a shattered mirror, forever reflecting what it once was. Emet-Selch could never see her as her own person, holding her up as an impure shadow of the beloved sister he lost. Venat loved her, so deeply and fervently it transcended the course of twelve thousand years and re-shaped the universe, and yet she could never reconcile whether that love was for her as herself or if it was for the soul her body housed. Even Lahabrea saw something of Azem in her once long ago, twisted though it had become. A sliver of his former lover, flaring deep within the heart of the woman loved by the victim he possessed. Perhaps that’s what stayed his hand when he had the killing blow that night in the Praetorium. At most, she has a name and a handful of anecdotes. Iphigeneia. Scholar, traveller, a sorceress of eld with the power of the sun in her eyes. The connection between them—past and present, Ancient and Sundered—is a paradox. An enigma. She yearns to know more. She desires to know nothing. And despite it all, she is left to wonder… would she be proud of her?

#queueing my azem's complicated lore at an ungodly hour don't mind me #febhyurary #febhyurary 2024 #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #gpose #gposers #azem #ffxiv wol #half-elezen #hyur midlander #endwalker #endwalker spoilers #aureia malathar #oc tag #myreia screenshots

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azdoine · 11 months ago

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Who Cares If It's Worth The Candle?

Three days ago I wrote an article on some recent rational stories. I had not read any fiction of this kind since the days of Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, and, since I constantly heard animated discussions of the merits of the rational writers, I was curious to see what they were like today. The specimens I tried I found disappointing, and I made some rather derogatory remarks in connection with my impressions of the genre in general. To my surprise, this brought me letters of protest in a volume and of a passionate earnestness which had hardly been elicited even by my occasional criticisms of Dath Ilan. Of the thirty-nine letters that have reached me, only seven approve my strictures. The writers of almost all the others seem deeply offended and shocked, and they all say almost exactly the same thing: that I had simply not read the right novels and that I would surely have a different opinion if I would only try this or that author recommended by the correspondent. In many of these letters there was a note of asperity, and one lady went so far as to declare that she would never read my articles again unless I were prepared to reconsider my position. In the meantime, furthermore, a number of other writers have published articles defending the rational story: Alexander Wales, Scott Alexander, Eneasz Brodski and Daystar Eld have all had something to say on the subject—nor has the umbrageous Eliezer Yudkowsky failed to raise his voice.

Overwhelmed by so much insistence, I at last wrote my correspondents that I would try to correct any injustice by undertaking to read some of the authors that had received the most recommendations and taking the whole matter up again. The writer that my correspondents were most nearly unanimous in putting at the top was Mister Domagoj Kurmaić, who was pressed upon me by eighteen people, and the book of his that eight of them were sure I could not fail to enjoy was a time loop caper called Mother of Learning. Well, I set out to read Mother of Learning in the hope of tasting some novel excitement, and I declare that it seems to me one of the dullest books I have ever encountered in any field. The first part of it is all about magic as it is practiced in university and contains a lot of information of the kind that you might expect to find in an encyclopedia article on tabletop role-playing-games. I skipped a good deal of this, and found myself skipping, also, a large section of the conversations between conventional scholastic characters: “Oh, here’s Xvim with the coursework. People may say what they like about coursework, but it does go on all through the quarter and make a backdrop,” etc. There was also a dreadful stock student of the undiagnosed autistic kind, with the embarrassing name of Zorian Kazinski, and, although he was the focal character of the novel, being Mister Domagoj Kurmaić’s version of the necessary Phil Connors prisoner, I had to skip a good deal of him too. In the meantime, I was losing the story, which had not got a firm grip on my attention, but I went back and picked it up and steadfastly pushed through to the end, and there I discovered that the whole point was that phenomenal arcane power can’t fix a broken family or mend estranged relationships. Not a bad idea for a character piece, and O. Henry would have known how to dramatize it in an entertaining tale of five thousand words, but Mister Kurmaić had not hesitated to pad it out to a book of seven hundred thousand, contriving one of those hackneyed cock-and-bull stories where the protagonist’s disability is a secret power, and larding the whole thing with details of training arcs, bits of quaint lore from OSR monster manuals, and the awful whimsical patter of worldbuilding.

I had often heard people say that Domagoj Kurmaić wrote well, and I felt that my correspondents had been playing him as their literary ace. But, really, he does not write very well: it is simply that he is more consciously literary than most of the other rational-story writers and that he thus attracts attention in a field which is mostly on a sub-literary level. In any serious department of fiction, his writing would not appear to have any distinction at all. Yet, commonplace in this respect though he is, he gives an impression of brilliant talent if we put him beside Mister Wertifloke, whose The Waves Arisen was also suggested by several correspondents. Mister Yudkowsky has put himself on record as believing that Mister Wertifloke, as well as Mister Walker and Mister Solguard, writes his novels in "excellent prose," and this throws for me a good deal of light on Mr. Yudkowsky’s opinions as a critic. I hadn't quite realized before, though I had noted his own rather messy style, to what degree he was insensitive to writing. I do not see how it is possible for anyone with a feeling for words to describe the unappetizing sawdust which Mister Wertifloke has poured into his pages as "excellent prose" or as prose at all except in the sense that distinguishes prose from verse. And here again the book is mostly padding. There is the notion that unregulated use of power would lead to climate disaster and the collapse of modern civilization, but this is embedded in the dialogue and doings of a lot of self-replicating warrior-magicians who are even more tedious than those of Mother of Learning.

The enthusiastic reader of rational stories will indignantly object at this point that I am reading for the wrong things: that I ought not to be expecting good writing, characterization, human interest or even atmosphere. He is right, of course, though I was not fully aware of it till I attempted Project Lawful, considered by connoisseurs one of the best books of two of the masters of this school. This tale I found completely unreadable. The story and the writing both showed a surface so wooden and dead that I could not keep my mind on the page. How can you care about liberating those damned who have never really been put in torment, because the writer hasn't any ability of even the most ordinary kind to persuade you to see them or feel them? How can you probe the the depths of the characters who surround the protagonist, because they are all simply fodder for dramatic irony? It was then that I understood that a true connoisseur of this fiction must be able to suspend the demands of his imagination and literary taste and take the thing as an intellectual widget. But how you arrive at that state of mind is what I do not understand.

In the light of this revelation, I feel that it is probably irrelevant to mention that I enjoyed The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, by Lurina, more than the novels of any of these luminaries. There is a tinge of black magic that gives it a little of the interest of a horror story, and the author has a virtuosity at playing with alternative hypotheses that makes this trick of rational fiction more amusing than it usually is. I want, however, to take up certain points made by some of the above-mentioned articles. Mr. Munchkin informs the non-expert that the rational novel is a kind of game in which the reader of a given story, in order to play properly his hand, should bring his full attention to the stage. Common sense, it seems, is insufficient: the reader must be versed with Bayesian statistics, game theory, artificial intelligence, theory of mind, and modal realism. This may be true, but I shall never qualify. I would rather read golden age detective fiction, which at least does not involve the consumption of hundreds of ill-written blog posts.

An argument leveled by my interlocutors is that contemporary genre fiction has become so vapid, so abstracted or mass-market, that the public have had to take to the rational story as the only department of fiction where verisimilitude survives. This seems to me to involve two fallacies. On the one hand, it is surely not true that “the common authors of today” - to quote Ms. Neocalico - “have often,” in contrast to the authors of the past, “little or no story to tell,” that “they have allowed themselves to be persuaded that continuity is no consideration.” It is true, of course, that urban fantasy and comics - which, I suppose, must be accounted the emptiest going - have their various modern ways of boring and playing tricks on the reader. But how about the dreadful fanon and reinterpretations that one has to get over in HPMOR? The soft-serve science in Worm? The Deus Ex Machina of Unsong, in which the villain surrenders his cause? Is there anything in first-rate popular fiction quite so gratuitous as these longueurs? Even Rowling and Gaiman do certainly have stories to tell, and they have organized their works with an intensity which has been relatively rare in genre fiction and which, to my mind, more than makes up for the occasional arbitrariness of their narratives.

On the other hand, it seems to me—for reasons suggested above—a fantastic misrepresentation to say that the average rational story is an example of good story-telling. The gift for telling stories is uncommon, like other artistic gifts, and the only one of this group of writers—the writers my correspondents have praised—who seems to me to possess it to any degree is Mr. Alexander Wales. Worth the Candle is the only one of these books that I have read all of and read with enjoyment. But Wales, though in the community he’s lauded as a master, does not really belong to this school of rationalist fiction. What he writes is a work of portal fantasy which has less in common with Yudkowsky than with Stephen Donaldson and Michael Ende - the highbrow isekai which has substituted the blue text of numbers going up for the invisible backdrop of psychodrama. It is not simply a question here of a puzzle which has been put together but of an experience conveyed to the reader, the wonder and terror of an otherworld that is continually revealed in all its varied and unlikely forms. To write such a novel successfully you must be able to invent character and incident and to generate atmosphere, and all this Mr. Wales can do. It was only when I got to the end that I felt my old rational-story depression descending upon me again - because here again, as is so often the case, the explanation of the ontological mystery, when it comes, isn’t interesting enough. It fails to justify the excitement produced by the elaborate buildup of picturesque and sinister happenings, and one cannot help feeling cheated.

My experience with this second batch of novels has, therefore, been even more disillusioning than my experience with the first, and my final conclusion is that the reading of rational stories is simply a kind of vice that, for silliness and minor harmfulness, ranks somewhere between LitRPG and xianxia. This conclusion seems borne out by the violence of the letters I have been receiving. Rational-story readers feel guilty, they are habitually on the defensive, and all their talk about "well-written" fanfics is simply an excuse for their vice, like the reasons that the alcoholic can always produce for a drink. One of the letters I have had shows the addict in his frankest and most shameless phase. This lady begins by pretending, like the others, to guide me in my choice, but she breaks down and tells the whole dreadful truth. Though she has read, she says, hundreds of rational stories, "it is surprising," she finally confesses, "how few I would recommend to another. However, a poor rational story is better than none at all. Try again. With a little better luck, you'll find one you admire and enjoy. Then you, too, may be a rationalist."

This letter has made my blood run cold: so the opium smoker tells the novice not to mind if the first pipe makes him sick; and I fall back for reassurance on the valiant little band of my readers who sympathize with my views on the subject. One of these tells me that I have underestimated both the badness of rational stories themselves and the lax mental habits of those who enjoy them. The worst of it is, he says, that the true addict, half the time, never even learns how to be less wrong. The addict reads not to find anything out but merely to get the mild stimulation of a few shows of wits and of the suspense itself of waiting until the protagonist takes over the world. That this strategy of conquest is nothing at all and does not really explain how to systematically win does not matter to such a reader. He has learned from his long indulgence how to connive with the author in the swindle: he does not pay any real attention when the disappointment occurs, he does not think back and check the chain of reasoning, he simply closes the tab and starts another.

To rational-story addicts, then, I say: Please do not write me any more letters telling me that I have not read the right books. And to the seven correspondents who are with me and who in some cases have thanked me for helping them to liberate themselves from a habit which they recognized as wasteful of time and degrading to the intellect but into which they had been bullied by convention and the portentously performed hijacking of Greg Egan and Charles Stross—to these staunch and pure spirits I say: Friends, we represent a minority, but Literature is on our side. With so many fine web novels to be read, so much to be studied and known, there is no need to bore ourselves with this rubbish. And with the URL shortage pressing on all publication and many first-rate writers forced out of the top 100 on Royal Road, we shall do well to discourage the squandering of this wordcount that might be put to better use.

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