oneshots ⤷‧₊˚ levi ackerman

⤷‧₊˚ fate [levi x reader]

HI

This is a prompt/idea from PurebloodDalek7 's book, it was so amazing so liiike why not write it?

We hit N.10 in the category #ackerman out of 4k stories and 5k reads omg.

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"Yes yes! I wanna see psycho lady!" you boast, followed with an ear-to-ear grin.

Your feet drag to a purple tent, along with both your hands being held by your parents.

"It's psychic Y/n, not psycho" your dad tells you.

"Okay, but this is the last thing before we head home" your mother says looking down at you.

With a large frown, you whine.

Your toddler self was clearly devastated to leave the fun fair - after such an eventful day, you wish you could stay here forever.

Since it was near closing time, there was no waiting line, making you slowly open the curtain to the side - peeking.

A middle-aged woman with fair grey hair, lifts her head revealing her smile "Come in" she flicks her hand back.

"Go on Y/n" your dad says, pulling your hand forward into the tent.

You slightly jump forward, plopping yourself down on a leather chair, with your parents beside you.

The small silence made you get the chance to look around the tent with wide eyes.

It was filled many picture frames, little statues and monuments, as well as lamps which were decorated with jewels - along with its intricate designs and patterns.

"Little girl, you want to see the future then?" the old woman ogled.

You nod twice, hair bouncing "Yes!"

The woman closes her eyes, almost meditating by the looks.

She inhales and exhales through her nose.

The silence was cut off from your fathers' coughing.

Causing the woman to look up.

"Ahem, sorry" your father says awkwardly.

The woman meets your wide eyes with her cold ones "You will die from a man named...".

Form the corner of your eye, it looks as if your mother's jaw fell to the floor.

"Levi".

Your smile tips upside down "Die? Huh? I won't become rich?"

"And who's Levi?" you question.

The old woman had opened her mouth, only for it to close as your mother grabbed your arms, bringing you up onto her hip.

"You're talking with a child ma'am; I suggest you not scare them with the obvious reality of death" you heard your father say as you walked out of the tent.

You frowned, but kept silent, whilst closing your eyes to rest on your mother's shoulder.

Even at your young age, slight worry grew in you.

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Your 15-year-old self sighs on boredom as your head slips off your palm.

Making your head smack down on the desk, however thankfully, the sound was tuned out from the sound of the door opening.

Head rising, you see a teacher enter the classroom, then trailing behind them a boy.

A boy with dark, raven hair - styled in an undercut.