Levi x Reader Oneshots 2

Sapio (Omega Levi x Goddess Reader) Part 1

Author's Note: Hello, lovelies! I had originally intended for this to be a Levi x Reader oneshot where the reader is Athena. However, once I finished writing it, I realized I never actually called out Athena as the reader. So, feel free to think of yourself as whoever you want. You can be Athena, Erwin, even Levi – whatever makes you happiest. 

Also, this story does discuss sexual themes, and it gets a little saucy at times. (It's omegaverse, you know.) However, I'd consider it only mild sauciness. Nothing too crazy.

Lastly, this story contains a very brief mention of a spoiler for the end of the manga. However, it is so small that if the detail hasn't been spoiled for you already, I doubt you'd even notice. Hope you enjoy!

Levi found himself seated in an uncomfortably hard chair, facing a desk piled with stacks of paperwork. A quick glance around revealed there were countless such desks in the cavernous room, where busy-looking people were furiously scribbling away. It reminded him of a clerk's office in the military, except the architecture was quite different. In fact, the room looked more akin to a church than an office.

"Levi Ackerman," a nasal, male voice clipped – causing him to abruptly face forward, his wary gaze locking on the person seated on the other side of the desk. The clerk, as Levi thought of him, focused entirely on a document in his hand, seeming to have no actual interest in Levi as he read, "Born in the Underground City on Paradis. Son of Kuchel Ackerman. Raised by Kenny –"

"Oi," Levi snapped, not feeling at all inclined to sit here and listen to his life story be read by a stranger. His mind was swimming with questions – and he wanted answers. "How do you know all that? Who the hell are you? And while you're at it, you can also tell me where we are, and how I got here."

The clerk rolled his eyes, as if he'd heard Levi's questions so many times that they were now beyond mundane. "You're dead, obviously," he stated in a flat tone, with no attempt to soften the blow. "You died in your sleep at a ripe, old age. Congratulations. This here is the afterlife. And I'm the lucky Sorter who gets to figure out where you're supposed to go. Now, where was I...? Ah, yes. Raised by Kenny Ackerman..."

Without giving Levi a chance to respond, the man returned his focus to the document, reading off the details of Levi's life in that same, bored tone. Yet, Levi barely heard him, and the irritating voice faded to mere background noise. No – he was more interested in his hands, which he lifted from his lap so he could examine them more closely. Miraculously, they were free of wrinkles, and from what he could tell, they had regained their former strength. They also had a total of ten fingers.

Impossible.

Was this a dream?

Or...was he truly dead?

"Mhm..." the clerk hummed, oblivious to Levi's inner turmoil. "And it says here...you're an omega. Let's see...given your physique and your mortal-world status as a hero...yes, you'd definitely qualify as a commodity for the deities. Well, that makes this easy enough. I'll just send you to auction –"

"What's an omega?" Levi interrupted.

Once again, the clerk rolled his eyes, and Levi had to resist the urge to break his nose. "Look, every mortal who dies and comes to the afterlife is assigned a secondary sex based on their natural tendencies – even if those tendencies were never expressed in life," the clerk explained in an exasperated tone, as if it were the simplest of concepts that shouldn't have needed explaining in the first place. "They also obtain physical characteristics related to their secondary sex. There are three classes – alphas, betas, and omegas. You're an omega. Most people are given their designation and then released to do whatever. But you have been identified as a potential object of interest to the deities, so you'll be sent to auction. In all likelihood, a deity with a preference for omegas will buy you, and you will then become a servant in their bedroom. Now, may I continue with my work, or do I have to –"