zoe writes fic

We Who Found Home

Attack on Titan: Mad Max AU

Title: We Who Found Home
Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi
Genre: Romance / Action / Angst
Rating: T

Read it on AO3

This is my Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @the-hunter-eren! Happy Holidays! I have for you the Mad Max AU you requested :) I hope you like it!!

He who has tried it knows
How cruel is
Sorrow as a companion
To the one who has few
Beloved friends:
The path of exile holds him,
Not at all twisted gold.
- The Wanderer

He had sand in his mouth.

The coarse grains grated against his gums, and spread, a fine layer of grit over his tongue. He clenched his jaw, wrenching the wheel to the right. Dry granules scraped and cracked between his teeth. There was no time to rinse his mouth. Not when they were being pursued.

Pursuit wasn’t unusual. Not for them. They, who lived the life of nomads. Ever crossing the sand. They never stayed in one place for long. Because they’d yet to find it – the object of their all searching. A place of their own.

They searched, they fought, they fled. And they would continue to do so until they found the place where the earth could be made to sustain them. A home.

Dragging his sleeve over his mouth, Levi rubbed at the sand caking his lips. It fluttered down. Gold grains caught the light.

Without warning, his car jerked suddenly and violently to the right. Slamming his boot down on the brake pad was instinctive. Yanking back at the gear shift while simultaneously banking a hard right was a learned skill. The engine wailed. He was stuck.

Rusty chains attached his vehicle to one of the monstrosities that pursued them. Wistven vehicles were all angles. Because of the flat steel plates that decorated their surfaces, the cars were both heavy and strong. It was the sharp blades that lined their sides which made them deadly. At the front of each vehicle was a mounted harpoon, and behind it, a mound of coiled chain.

It was that very chain, attached to the heavy spear that pierced his vehicle’s hull, which was dragging him out of formation. Tires spun over loose sand as he slid to the side. The chains hummed and snapped taught. His car shuddered. The vehicle on the other side of the chains fishtailed, then steadied once more.

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i’ve told quite a few people this fic was coming, so here it is. special thanks to my beta/girlfriend @danchou-chan, and to @partydanchou and @birbwin for listening to me whine about this thing for months. Read it on AO3

It was never truly his, the life he was born into. He’d known it from childhood, born with memories of monsters, of a war with no end. Erwin Smith was born with the memories of cable wires shooting out with the pull of a trigger, sending an army through the air, of blades and blood that evaporates, of blood that stays. He was born with the memories of a man who had lived two decades before he saw the sun, of fierce gray eyes and a sharp tongue, a man who was small and beautiful and meant to fly. His little bird. He was born with the memories of a broken promise and the knowledge that he is meant to find this man, this little bird, a knowledge that he keeps private, learning early on that others will not take kindly to these strange memories. A vivid imagination in childhood turns into a concerning quirk verging on madness as an adult and he quiets himself. His bird is in his dreams, in the shadows in his waking life, waiting. This life was never truly his, but he will live it if only so that he can prove to himself that this man exists, that somewhere he is looking for him too.

This is the first time, and perhaps it is due to his own naivety that he accepts without question the idea that he is fated to live again, to spend his life dedicated to a man he has yet to meet– maybe never will meet. He does not question the absurdity of it all, the guilt that consumes him for deaths he, now, has never seen, the desperate need for the man in his dreams, the name he finds himself whispering like a prayer as he lies in bed at night, eyes fixed towards the heavens: Levi, Levi, Levi. He questions nothing, fixated, obsessed, but somewhere someone was waiting for him, and in the end it’s all that matters.

Levi, Levi, Levi.

It happens at last during the winter of 1901, and Erwin is on the train, alone with a first class ticket in a quiet, comfortable car, off to visit a friend of the family (by obligation rather than by his own desire, but he’s resolved to be nothing but pleasant– he always is, when he can help it, after all). He is reading the paper when a silent stranger shuffles in, sliding into the seat directly across, a simple bag tossed beside him. Queen Victoria is dead. The stranger lights a cigarette, slumps against the window with a sigh. At half a glance it’s a man, a boy perhaps, small and dark and unremarkable in every way save for his stature and his unusually sharp angles. He is drowning in worn and ill fitting but well-kept clothes. It’s a wonder what a man like that is doing in a first class car. Erwin has no intention to gaze fully but there’s a nagging at his chest, a flash from a dream, from a memory, a whisper. A name. Blue eyes flicker up, the train is moving– he meets half-lidded gray, head against a curled fist, cigarette dangling between thin lips. Gray eyes meet his, cool impassivity turning to shock, head lifting. The cigarette is crushed against the sill of the window by a slow, hesitant hand.

And then there’s a weight against his chest, coming at him so fast it knocks him back into his seat and he almost forgets to wind his arms around the smaller body, to cradle him like something precious, something sacred. There’s a muffled choked out sob, “Oh fuck,” into Erwin’s shirt, drenched in relief, and Erwin wonders how long Levi’s gone thinking he was simply insane. He’s beautiful, he always has been but especially now, real and whole and his, and Erwin thanks every god he can think of for this second chance– for that’s what this must be, a blessing, a way to make amends for the lives he’s taken, the men and women and children he once sent off to die. A miracle.

“Levi… Levi.

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@black-silk-hot-pink-glitter said: Okay, but Bucky and T'Challa being very gentle with each other after their daily fight sessions. Cuddling, grocery shopping and making dinner like they’re on Barefoot Contessa and sharing a bath. Please???

I think I hit most of these! (half?) I hope you enjoy! 

Bucky slams T’Challa down onto the mat in the weight room, leaning suggestively over his body.

“1…2…3.” he whispers into his ear, before whooping loudly.

“Yeah, yeah,” T’Challa rolls his eyes. “i’m having an off day.”

Bucky snorts, and T’Challa can feel the sound vibrate through his body, still pressed closely against his.

“Victory sex?” Bucky asks hopefully.

“It’ll only be a victory for you,” T’Challa replies, shoving Bucky off of him. He offers him a hand though, pulling Bucky up and allowing him a victory kiss.

“Sex with me is always a victory,” Bucky says once they sepeate. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in some countries.”

T’Challa chuckles, a sound that only Bucky seemed to be able to pull out of him. “Oh I don’t doubt it. But I’m starving.”

“So am I,” Bucky whines. For something else entirely.

T’Challa’s apartment in the Tower is…fit for a king, to be cliche. Dark woods and bright whites, it screamed class and it screamed T’Challa. When Bucky first moved in, his place didn’t even have running water.

His kitchen was the best too, well stocked with healthy foods because T’Challa was pretty strict about his diet.

Though, he never turned down licking whipped cream off of his chest.

They cooked up a quick lunch together, keeping it simple with sandwiches and salad. Bucky made and grilled the sandwiches, while T’Challa sliced the vegetables.

Like always when they cooked together, they were in each others spaces - laughing, touching, bumping hips(and sometimes elbows). But the food always came out good, and they sat at the kitchen table to eat it quickly, sore bodies ready to relax.

Bucky and T’Challa always fought hard. To an onlooker, it may even seem brutal. But as two of the best, most equally matched fighters in the Tower, they had to. There’s no way for them to get  better, no way for it to be a challenge if they didn’t.

Afterwards, the often needed a bit of R&R. Together. Bucky’s body healed faster, so he needed less time. But T’Challa, no matter how talented, was human. He gave as good as he got though, and Bucky was proud of his boyfriend, the one he’d met in less than ideal circumstances a few months ago.

They curl up on the sofa, in front of the flatscreen. Bucky leans up against the arm of the sofa, and T’Challa crawls up in between his legs, acting every bit like the cat he was named for. He picks up the remote and selects The Cosmos off of their DVR, and Bucky rolls his eyes at T’Challa’s selection.

“You fuckin’ nerd.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like Neil deGrasse Tyson, Bucky. I know you stalk him on Twitter.”

Bucky snorts, bringing his hands up to T’Challa’s shoulders. He relaxes instantly under Bucky’s touch, which makes him grin. “Maybe. But you always fall asleep and I end up watching it by myself,” he complains, though he’d never take away their massage time.

It always brought a smile to his face when T’Challa passed out in his lap from his touch, and not even twenty minutes later, he was nearly there.

“‘’Challa?” he whispers.

“Hmm?” he mutters, half asleep.

“Want me to put you to bed?” he asks.

“No, I’m still watching the show,” T’Challa yawns.

Bucky snickers, running a hand through T’Challa’s hair. “Yeah alright. Bath later?”

T’Challa smiles sleepily, and Bucky presses a kiss to his forehead.


Levihan Week – Day 5 – Blue

  In the middle of the afternoon, Levi is walking in the park calmly seeing the view of the nature. A beautiful blue sky is shining as his gray eyes reflect the same color. Kids are running and laughing all the way as birds of different colors fly and couples sit together talking about their daily lives. 

  Just as Levi thought he would have a quiet walk alone, he hears the distinguishable “YAHOOOO” coming at his direction.

  “Leviiiiii look what I found!!!” 

  He turns around and sees his best friend running at his way carrying something between her hands and he notices that she is all dirty with what he assumes is blue ink.

  Hange is always like that. Exploring the world around her with all the curiosity and eccentricity that she emanates everywhere she goes. Although her messiness, he really admires her intelligence and seeing her huge grin and sparkle eyes behind those big glasses makes he think that she is kind of cute. But of course he doesn’t say any of that.

  “You are filth”

  “Aw don’t be such a grumpy, I came here to show you this beautiful little thing”

  Levi looked at her hands and was surprised to see a big blue butterfly in her palm. 

  “I found it as I was walking home from school today and decided to observe and make some drawings of this little guy, but I made the ink drop all over my room and over myself haha”  

  “And why the hell didn’t you clean yourself before coming here and running like an idiot with this blue thing in your hand, shitty glasses?”

  They know each other since they were very young, so she is never taken back by his cold personality. She knows that even if his words come harsh he doesn’t mean any of it and she can see behind his stoic shell how caring he is. 

  For this reason she smiles at him with her big blue grin and they keep staring at each other for a long time. 

  “You are unbelievable”  

  Her grin becomes even bigger and he can’t help it but smile a little at how she never feels intimidated by him like most people do.

  They sit in a grass full of blue flowers.

  As people walk near them, most of them wonder if they are a couple. Honestly, they pass all the time together and talk in such an intimacy with each other that most people think they are a couple. 

  But maybe they really are. The feelings that come when they are passing time with each other are beyond just friendship. It’s a strange yet special feeling that makes them always search for one another. But still, they aren’t aware of what those feelings mean. 

  They are thirteen and dumb.

  As he looks at her carefully observing her new specie and still all covered in blue ink, he thinks that even if they are surrounded by all this stunning blue view, the sky, the flowers, the butterfly, he cannot deny that her messy blue is truly the most beautiful he has ever seen.

Anonymous said: sometimes she wondered if he ever had any time for, like, hobbies (you know, other than near-obsessive cleaning). and then one day, she found out that yes- he did. (levihan)

I cheated a little bit and didn’t use this exact sentence. Instead, I worked it into the overall theme. Still good? Maybe? :)

Hange Zoe wondered.

Wondered at the walls, humanity’s greatest protector (captor?). Wondered about Titans, speculating, always, as to their nature; whether single-minded beings could be said to have one at all. She wondered about the government, about the monarchy’s secrets, secrets they’d yet to fully understand– secrets, perhaps, buried too deep to ever be properly unearthed. And sometimes, when her mind wasn’t crowded, pushed painfully full with such daunting queries, she wondered about Levi Ackerman.

If pressed, she’d tell you she knew him.

Levi, always last to turn in his mission reports because he wrote with deliberate slowness, a painstaking attempt to turn messy, late-learned letters neat. Who drank precisely three cups of tea a day. One in the morning, brewed before the sun had a chance breathe life into the barracks; one in the afternoon, drunk within view of the training yard. Close enough to observe, yet far enough to discourage idle visitors; And one before bed, liquid balm to sooth a soldier’s frayed nerves.

Levi, who despite his late-night herbal tea, slept fitfully – aged floorboards gave away his pacing. The sliver of light that leaked beneath his door was a beacon of his restlessness. Hange knew it well. Awake, she often bore witness to its lonely glow.

She knew that he didn’t laugh – but, contrary to what many believed, his lack of laughter didn’t mean he was incapable of amusement. That his amusement was betrayed in the squint of his eyes, the slight press of his lips. Easily mistaken for annoyance – which was, incidentally, characterized by a slightly different squinting of his eyes and pressing of his lips – Levi’s amusement was often misinterpreted or overlooked.

Cleaning was an act from which Levi took true enjoyment. Clearing clutter, scrubbing away grime, relentlessly sweeping up dirt and dust; all seemed to sooth him. In the rare instance he found himself free of responsibility, tidying a stray mess was his preferred pastime.

Or so she’d thought.

Until one very particular afternoon.

Particular, because it was balmy yet cool; heat allayed by a chill breeze, the herald of summer’s surrender to fall. Headquarters, lulled into lethargy by the pleasant weather, was unusually empty. In its emptiness, the captain’s absence was obvious.

And because it was a slow day, strange already, Hange abandoned re-analyzing the results of her latest experiment in favor of seeking out the mysteriously absent captain.

As she searched Headquarters, moving from the more common spaces to the locked-off and obscure, Hange wondered – habit by now – mind divided between the Titans in her latest experiment and a list of Levi’s possible whereabouts.

She proceeded as such, wondering and walking, meticulously increasing her search radius until she wandered the grounds outside headquarters. She was climbing a hill, shading her eyes against the sun as she considered, once again, the ramifications of Titans occupying the walls, when she found him.

Under a wide-boughed tree, legs folded beneath him and his back pressed up against bark, Levi sat. Before him, a leather bag waited patiently in the grass. Its cinched mouth was open. As she watched, he reached in and pulled from the sack a single torn patch.

Mystified, Hange observed as he turned the fabric over in his hands. Etched in painstaking print upon the back was a name, too distant to read.

Levi closed his eyes. As he fingered the patch, his lips moved, brief. And then the patch was put carefully back, and replaced immediately with another. For half an hour he continued, unaware of her presence, before Hange, feeling too much like an intruder, left without a word.

But still she wondered.

In the span of a month she found him in the same place twice more. The third time, she ventured close enough to hear. For each patch he held, a name passed his lips. Isabel. Farlan. Petra. Gunther. Eld. Auruo. Nifa- All soldiers. Those who had died under his command.

By then she knew. It was an act of remembering.

The fourth time Hange found him, she sat. Scooting over grass, she pressed her back against the tree as she watched his ritual, silent.

By the fifth, he wordlessly passed her each patch, letting her touch the frayed fabric.

And so they sat, backs against hard bark, passing torn patches between them, lost comrades’ names upon their lips. Continuing until the bag was exhausted and the day had begun to turn cold. In the quiet that followed, Levi remembered and Hange wondered.

Levi Ackererman took unusual joy from the act of cleaning, regularly drank tea, bore the soldier’s burden of sleeplessness, didn’t laugh - though was often amused, wrote with exacting precision, and took pains to remember his every lost soldier.

If pressed, Hange would tell you she knew him.

A Bit of Sweet - fangedangel (clockworkqueen) - Suicide Squad (2016) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Suicide Squad (2016)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Harley Quinn/Floyd Lawton, Harleen Quinzel/Floyd Lawton, Floyd Lawton & Rick Flag, Deadshot/Harley Quinn
Characters: Floyd Lawton, Harleen Quinzel, Harley Quinn, Zoe Lawton, Rick Flag, Deadshot
Additional Tags: First DC fic ever, pls be nice, First Kiss, Getting Together, battles, Meeting the kids

Harley isn’t the only one who dreams of a domestic life. Floyd brings Harley to meet his daughter.


Nice, a Levihan 'fic by July
By Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Hange kisses Levi.
Pairing/Character: Levihan
Rating: G
Warnings: present tense
Genre: Character study-ish? Romance-ish. Friendship. 

Credit for Hange’s story goes to cellostargalactica; Levi’s perspective on it is mine.

Eruri Fic: Impossible

With thanks to my patient beta who is a gift and a treasure to this fandom.

Levi breathes in, exhales.  

The air is thick with dust and smoke.  He can feel it coating the inside of his mouth, the acrid taste of it on his tongue.

He breathes again, exhales. And again.  The fierce hot steam of titan blood filling his lungs.

He remembers when the air outside the walls had once seemed so clean.  So pure and untainted that Levi felt he was able to breathe for the very first time.

It seems impossible, utterly impossible that he should go on breathing, go on living, when everything should have stopped.

Levi closes his eyes.  Breathes.  Breathes again.

Opens them.  Still the same.  Nothing has changed. Except everything has changed.

At the very least he expected the sky to fall.  Or the light to fail. Or his heart to stop beating, when Erwin’s stopped beating. But it doesn’t.  Levi is still here, still breathing.  The world is still here and he is still in it.  

He is alive but Erwin is gone.

How is it possible for Levi to continue in a world without Erwin in it?  Surely Erwin’s last breath should have been his final exhale?

Apparently not.

Somehow, by some fucking miracle, Levi is still alive.

I swore I’d follow you. Don’t think this changes anything, you shitty bastard.

He stares down at the body in front of him, wanting to touch but not wanting.  It seemed an imposition to reach out and touch when Erwin was so awfully absent.

It’s undeniably Erwin.  Erwin, but not Erwin.

He looks like he’s sleeping.  But Levi knows he isn’t there.  Erwin’s absence has settled inside him, a huge hollow weight that will surely crush him.

The wind ruffles Erwin’s hair, scattering golden strands across his forehead.


Levi reaches out and sweeps them back into place. There is no conscious thought in the action, just muscle memory.  

Maybe that’s all he is now?  Just blood and bone and muscle?  Empty inside. Perhaps he is dead.  That seems more likely.  More likely than living on after Erwin has gone.

He just wants to lie down, to rest beside Erwin.  That’s where he belongs isn’t it? Always beside Erwin. His right hand man. And he’s tired, so tired. He feels weak and insubstantial; sinews fraying, every muscle tight and torn.

But he can’t rest.  Not yet.  Not while there is still one last thing to do.  Just one little thing.  He promised. Kill the Beast Titan.  Fulfil his vow and then, then he can rest.  

Why had he hesitated?  If he hadn’t hesitated, if cursed hope hadn’t stayed his hand, he could be resting now, here beside Erwin.  

He wants to blame Kenny.  All those years as a brat when he’d been desperate for something, anything, from Kenny; one single word of praise or acknowledgement.  He got nothing.  Not a single shitty word.  Not until his last breath, when Kenny cursed him with the power of life and death. Fucking typical.

Well. There’s nothing to be done about it now. He’ll just have to get on with it, like he’s always done.

But he’s so, so tired.  If he could just have one moment of rest without all this hellish noise. All these kids, screaming and flailing, all the fucking time.

But there’s another voice; closer, quieter.


Tugging at the edge his memory.


Persistent, annoying, familiar.

“Hey, Levi.”

Why won’t people let him alone?  So he can just have a moment’s rest?

He drags his gaze away from Erwin’s face.

“Shitty glasses.  You still here then?”

“Yes, I’m still here.”  

Hanji’s face is streaked with blood and tears.  They looked like shit.

“We need to go Levi.”

“I know.”

And he does.  He knows.  If only he wasn’t so tired, the empty weight inside him is so heavy.

He turns back to Erwin, still the same; there but not there.

“We’re not leaving him.”

“No Levi, we won’t leave the Commander. But we need to go from here.  Okay?”

Levi hauls himself to his feet, lead in every limb.  He bends to lift the body, to lift Erwin, feels the strength flooding back into him as lifts, cradling Erwin close to his chest.  Back where he belongs.  And he feels light, so light, no weight at all.  Levi feels like he could fly into the sun as long as Erwin is in his arms.

“Okay.” He tightens his grip, turns to Hanji, “lets go.”

'I needed a drink after my shower but I forgot I opened the blinds and you just saw me naked' prompt - part 2

Ok, so I tried to get all the smuttiness done before I started back on KH but I have been hit with inspiration and so I haven’t written much on this in a while.

There may be a part three - but if there is then Knocking Hips is going to be updated before then (because in my quest to not do my Fraud assignment I’ve written a few thousand words on Chapter 15, so that’ll be up hopefully by the end of the week)

This is a direct continuation from part one, so just read that to refresh yourself before diving into this one :)

But anyway, here is part two, let me know what you think, and I hope you all have wonderful days with lots of smiles and happiness <3

(pssst isazozo encouraged me to post it, so thank her when you get to the end :P )

Thanks guys *mwah*

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