reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point
updated April 25 2026. I'm separating the dialogue prompts into their respective sections. Starting with Anger Prompts sections. Total # of prompts may display differentials as I continue this. Also, added back a Hurt/Comfort Section. I also plan on Separating Angst Prompts within the coming weeks.
PLEASE reblog if you use any of these/wanna share with your writer friends!!
Summary: He doesn’t say much, but Levi Ackerman never needed words to show what mattered. Through rain-soaked nights and unspoken glances, you slowly uncover the quiet kind of love, the one that stays.
Rain drums steadily against the rooftop of the old scout headquarters. The rest of the squad has long since gone to sleep, but you’re still awake, unable to quiet your thoughts, your fingers wrapped around a mug of lukewarm tea.
You’re not surprised when he walks in.
Levi doesn’t make a sound, but you know his footsteps by now. You don’t look up immediately, and neither does he speak.
Instead, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits, letting the silence settle between you like a shared language.
He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He never does.
But his eyes glance over your face briefly, reading you like a mission report, line by line, detail by detail.
You wonder if he notices how your hands tremble just slightly if he hears the tightness in your breath.
“I cleaned your gear,” he says, finally.
You blink, caught off guard. “You didn’t have to.”
“Tch.” He looks away. “You’re sloppy when you're tired.”
It’s not an insult.
Not really. With Levi, it's almost affection.
You sip your tea again.
Still warm enough to pretend you weren’t waiting for him. Still quiet enough to pretend this isn’t routine now, him finding you after difficult days.
Him sitting with you until the night feels less sharp around the edges.
“Why do you always come here?” you ask before you can stop yourself.
He doesn't look at you. “Why do you always stay?”
Silence again. Except this time, there’s a weight to it.
A shift in the air.
You stare at his hands, scarred, steady, fingers flexing ever so slightly where they rest against the table.
“I don’t know,” you say, voice softer than before. “Maybe I like being near you.”
Levi’s jaw tightens. He exhales through his nose, slow.
Then, after what feels like forever, he speaks.
“I’m not good at this.”
You look up.
He’s still not meeting your eyes. “People. Feelings. I’m... not good at it.”
Your heart stirs because in all the time you’ve known him, all the things you’ve fought through together, this might be the most vulnerable thing he’s ever said.
You reach across the table, not to take his hand, but to let yours rest nearby.
A quiet offering.
He doesn’t move away.
“You don’t have to be good at it,” you murmur. “Just... honest.”
Finally, Levi looks at you.
His gaze is intense, sharp as ever, but not cold.
Never cold with you.
Something in it flickers, something unspoken, something careful and fragile and fierce all at once.
“I don’t want you to get used to losing people,” he says.
And just like that, you understand.
He won’t say the word “love.”
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But he’ll sit with you through the storm. He’ll clean your gear, bring your favourite tea, fight beside you like the world’s ending, and protect you like his world already would if you were gone.
You reach out, just a little closer.
His fingers twitch before brushing lightly against yours.
do you ever just think about comforting Levi through literally any of the extreme amount of shit he’s been put through?
him letting you hug him for the first time ✨ he’s not quite sure how to respond at first and just stiffly let’s you hold him. It’s the gentle stroking of his back with your fingers that finally loosens him into timidly wrapping his arms around you; his head falling to rest on your shoulder as he takes in the unfamiliar feeling of being held and loved. he doesn’t stray away from your touch like he may have in the past and instead grips ahold of you impossibly tighter.
depending on how close your bond is and how comfortable he is in your presence he may actually, albeit extremely rarely, allow himself to shed like two whole tears. but that’s it. he’s still reserved enough to hold in the bulk of his pain in front of you.
stroking the back of his neck around his hairline is one of few things that makes him melt further into you. it’s an unfamiliar and incredibly vulnerable spot, but comforting when coming from you. he lets you gently tease at his short hair as he burrows his face further into the junction of your shoulder and neck; slowly breathing in your scent.
it’s a moment only for the two of you. if anyone were to happen upon you unexpectedly *cough* hange *cough* he might actually kill them, or at least traumatize them into never speaking of it.
conclusion: levi is rough around the edges, but can be persuaded to melt into your arms and escape your harsh reality for short moments of reprieve 🥲
Slight, very slight mentions of anxiety attacks? Idfk. Basically reader often gets overwhelmed and hides, guess who's there to help?
Levi knocked at your door, not surprised when he didn’t get a response.
But he waited nevertheless. He tapped against the door a few more times until he reached for the doorknob and twisted it, cautiously pushing it open. Also not to his surprise, your office was empty, not a hair of you in sight.
Seemingly.
If not for the fact that he’d seen you entering here just two minutes ago and if not for the fact he’s been here way too many times to know better. And so he found himself slowly stepping in, soundlessly shutting the door back. Light on his feet, he approached the desk standing near the back of the room and peered down.
“Hello.” You whispered when his silver eyes found yours.
It was rather unusual to find most people crouching beneath their desks, was it not?
Levi thought so too, the first time he found you here. He remembered being so confused, watching you as you curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth. He remembered being clueless, wondering if you were sick, wondering if he should call Hange or Nanaba, wondering if he should just leave you alone.
But time has passed since and he’s learnt a thing or two.
That everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes.
Levi sighed.
“What are you doing?” He asked softly.
“..hiding.” You mumbled, avoiding his gaze and pulling up your knees against your chest. You drummed your fingers anxiously on the floor.
“So I’ve figured.” He nodded. “From what exactly?”
"I.." You cringed a little. "..don’t know?”
“Come out please.”
You hesitated, meeting his gaze. It was soft. Warm. Understanding. Safe.
But yet, the world was far scarier still.
You glanced back at the floor. “I don’t want to.”
“It’s alright. Come out please.”
You shook your head. Levi exhaled.
“That’s okay,” He said, shifting. “I’ll just come down then.”
Before you could even respond to that offer, he was already squatting down, slipping himself into the small space under the desk that could barely even fit you. But he settles in anyways, leaning back opposite of you, your knees touching his.
You smiled, letting your hand find his and hooking your cold fingers through. In response, he rubbed circles on your palm with his thumb, squeezing gently. For a moment you just simply sat there, feeling gratitude flood your thundering heart as it quiets, the tension leaving your body and everything wrong in your mind eases away. In that moment, there was only you and him. You could finally breathe again.
“You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” You told him. “What would people say?”
He raised a brow questioningly.
“Your reputation would be so screwed if people find out you hide under tables like a little child.” You shook your head, trying to explain. “Just because I’m weird, doesn’t mean you have to be too.”
“You’re not weird.”
“Levi.”
“What?”
‘“You don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
“I know.”
“So why?” You demanded. He looked at you and shrugged.
“Because you needed me.”
That’s all he says.
“You needed me." He repeated softly, "And I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”
A reminder that NaNoWriMo is for fun! Yes, it’s okay to not win. Yes, it’s okay to do a different project. Yes, it’s okay if your draft is full of typos. There’s certainly a traditionally accepted way to do NaNo, but by no means are you held to it, and in no way is the most important thing to complete it. Come! Write! Have fun! Make NaNo whatever you want it to be.
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