#adwd

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—★★★★:

Finally finished writing it yipeee!

5012 × Reader (0213)

It takes place after day 3!

You are woken up from your sleep by a distant, loud blast of sound. A strong flash of light illuminated the room from behind you as you opened your eyes, but it was gone before you could blink. You lay curled up, facing away from the window where the light came from.

Sitting up, the blanket slips from your shoulders and pools down on your lap. You rub the sleep from your eyes and look out the window to see if you could find the source of such a disturbance.

Luckily, you didn’t need to wait too long before the strong light tore through the sky again and made you squint your eyes a little. The same loud crashing noise followed it. Lightning and thunder… Somehow you knew. But you did not care right now. You just wanted to sleep.

With a huff, you plopped back on the bed and pulled the blanket up, covering your face.

You were trying hard to fall asleep, but you hear that stupid loud noise again. You ignore it, wishing it would go away.

But it happens again, and again, and again and again, and then you pull the blanket back down and groan, glaring daggers at the ever dark sky outside. If only it could stop roaring at… You check the analog clock by your bed…

At fucking four-thirty in the morning…

You stuffed your ears with your fingers. Nope, that noise was still very much audible. Being a master at eavesdropping also had its drawbacks, you suppose.

Giving up, you quickly sit up and swing your legs off the bed and onto the cold floor. Discarding your blanket, you spring to your feet and stretch.

It was doubtful any reapers would be awake at this hour, but still you couldn’t sleep anyway, so might as well go out. Besides, you were curious how different parts of R.A.D looked at night… The underworld did not really have mornings, but you still hadn't seen the place empty and out of use.

You flick the light switches beside your bed, and the soft yellow lighting that follows gives your room a cozy feel, especially when it is raining. You open your closet to get your day wear and quickly slip into it.

Standing in front of your dresser’s mirror, you lightly brushed your hair into place with your fingers. You’d usually comb it, but you were probably not going to run into anyone at this hour anyway.

Now, the lights were all turned off, and you had made sure to take your keycard out before stepping outside. You closed the door quietly behind you, looking around the hallway that stretched before you.

It was very dim, but it was lit by some strip lights on the edges of the floor. It felt like the whole building was asleep. It was peaceful even… You never found silence peaceful… Er, in the three days you were alive, kinda.

You tread slowly, making sure your heels don't click against the floor too much. All the rooms are quiet; everyone is asleep. The lounge area had been cleaned and arranged, but earlier it was a little messy since Atlas and a few reapers were chatting there.

From there, you walk past the various usually bright game machines that were all turned off right now. Their colorful LED lights were now grey.

As the cafe area comes into view, you see someone… 5012? You weren’t really surprised. That man loved his work. Should have guessed he wouldn’t sleep either, since ‘Grim reapers require less sleep than humans’ blah blah.

Speeding up your pace, you practically hopped towards your trainer. He was making some coffee, you notice. It was obvious he saw you coming, but he chose to keep his attention on his coffee as he brought it to his lips to take a sip, as if ignoring you would make you disappear into thin air.

After reaching him and leaning on the counter beside him, you smile at him as you wait for him to accept his fate. You vaguely register that this is the first time you've seen him without his coat.

He takes another sip of his coffee, still not sparing you a single glance. Then, he calmly places it back on the counter, the porcelain mug making a little ‘clink’.

Finally tilting his head to look at you from the corner of his eye, “You’re awake.” He speaks, his voice a little rougher from disuse.

“Yep. I guess I am.” You say, still holding that mock polite smile. His eyes move from your eyes and your smile for a brief moment to read your intentions before he turns and takes another sip of his coffee.

“It is too early for me to deal with you. Do not attempt to bother me.” He says as he picks up the mug and turns on his heels towards the direction of the stairs to his office.

You quickly follow behind him, ignoring his words. ”What are you doing up? Can I help?” You ask, with every intention of bugging him till he agrees; boredom is cruel.

“No. I have it handled just fine.” He says as he continues his pace.

“Please, 5012! I have nothing to do, and I can’t sleep.”

“I fail to see how that is my problem.”

“Well… If you think about it, who knows what boredom does to a reaper! I could be tempted to do…” You make an exaggerated terrified expression,

“Unspeakable things! I might accidentally start a second revolution! And that might become your problem, so it’s best I stay under your watch, isn’t it?”

The face you show him once you finish talking is pure innocence.

His eyebrows knit together slightly once he realises your implications, and he turns to glare at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“What? No way! I am just saying I would not want you to feel responsible for whatever trouble I could cause out of boredom, you know… Wouldn’t want to make you feel more guilty than you already do, heh.”

His jaw clenches subtly. “I do not feel guilty for anything.”

“Soooo, what am I going to help you with?” You ask, stirring the conversation away.

“By leaving.” He says as you both reach the stairways that would lead to the floor where his office is.

“But that wouldn’t be helpful at all! 5012, please!” You whine and climb the stairs fast to catch up to him, your footsteps louder than his.

You were now in front of his office door. He places his hand on the doorknob and turns to you. “If you are going to help me, it would be with paperwork.” He says sternly.

This was his favourite trick. He says that so he could scare you off, but unfortunately for him, you weren’t Atlas and the paperwork trick was not gonna work on you.

“That’s okay! I do want to know how you do it.” You reply, deterred. A rush of satisfaction swells up in your chest when his brows lift a little in mild surprise. It felt so nice to catch him off guard. To show him not everything would go according to how he expects it to.

With a small sigh, he twists the doorknob and walks in, but he doesn’t close the door behind him. You take it as an invite to follow him inside. Closing the door, you turn to see him taking a seat on his chair behind his desk. There were three tall stacks of paperwork on his desk.

That's… A lot of paperwork.

“Pull a chair and sit.” He says, picking up his fancy dark blue fountain pen. He already had a few papers he was working on placed in front of him.

There were three accent chairs around the corners of his office, so you head over and pick one up. Dragging it there would just make him lecture you again, so you just carry it over to his desk with effort. You could tell everything in his office must have cost a fortune. It was so goddamn heavy.

A breath of air escapes your lips as you place the bulldozer of a chair right beside his, and he gives you a look that tells he had expected you to place the chair further away or even on the opposite side of his desk. However, he does not comment on it, and he goes back to adjusting a few things on his desk to make some space for you.

Your eyes wander around his table; everything is neatly arranged. Files, paperweights, stamps, clips, and… You lock your gaze on the most appealing thing to you on that table. The stationery holder that held a bunch of colorful pens. So many colors…

They were going to be so fun to write with! You realise this is the first time you were going to use a pen in your reaper life.

“Can I choose any color of pen?” You ask, resisting the urge to rock on your chair in excitement.

“No, you will not need it.” He says flatly after he had finished clearing the area of the desk in front of you.

You gave him a confused look.

“Your signature is not needed anywhere; they are all for me to sign. You are going to be separating the paperwork into different categories.” He says, as if it took every fibre of his being to explain.

You feel a little disappointed; you wanted to write stuff for the first time. Man… He really knew how to crush your dreams, didn't he?

“Can’t I, like, you know… Just copy your signature onto the paperwork?” You frame your question in a way that sounds like you want to help him, but really, it was obvious you just wanted to write.

Whatever you said, for some reason, displeased him, and he glares at you once again. You brace yourself for the scolding.

Here we go…

“Directly suggesting to forge my signature is unacceptable and a clear display of your bad manners. How you casually suggest illegal acts is unbelievable. You do what I tell you to or you leave, 0213.”

“Oh my-.... Fine, I will just sort out the stupid papers! And by the way, you never told me it was illegal.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are wasting my time. I could have gotten through at least thirty documents by now.”

You sigh, “Okay, okay! I won’t argue. Even if I was totally right. Just tell me the categories I need to split them into.”

He glances at the stacks of paper and then looks back at you, still wondering if this is a good idea.

“The first category. They are documents sent by the council and have a red skull stamp. You neatly arrange them into a stack.”

“Am I allowed to read them?”

“Yes, they are free to be viewed by any reaper. But do not waste time doing so. Your job is to only assort them.” He says firmly.

“The second category is complaints or suggestions submitted by the reapers of this station.”

You gasp, “So, you DO read them!”

He narrows his eyes at you. “It is my job, but I do not need to take action for any of them, and I certainly will not do it for whatever complaint you submit, so do not bother.”

You huff, but hold back your retorts.

“And lastly, are important matters directly addressed to me. They contain my name and the address of my office.” His purple eyes look directly into yours as he emphasises, “You do not read these ones.”

“OooOo, fanmail?” You tease.

“No.” He says, annoyed.

“Well, then, are you going to elaborate?”

“I don’t need to share my private information with you.”

“Then I am just going to assume they are love letters!”

“They are not-” He sighs and composes himself. “Are you going to get to work or do I need to throw you out of my office?”

Without a word, you stand up and grab as much paper as you can lift with two hands from the top of the paperwork mountain. You set it in front of you and sit back in your seat.

You can feel 5012 watching you, probably testing if he made a mistake by allowing you to do this. He needed to be proven wrong. You were going to sort out these papers so fast that he would be begging for your help in the near future.

The first document feels warm on your fingers as you pick it up.

It is neatly written on top that it's a complaint about some other reaper. Naturally, you were curious to hear the drama, but decided it was not that important as proving 5012 wrong. You place it on the empty space on the desk in front of you.

The next was a complaint about some food item, and you place it on top of the first one.

You pick up the third one, and it has the red skull stamp. It is some kind of notice to all reapers, so you place it on the desk separately to form a new pile beside the one you just started.

The next few were complaints again; you realise that everyone was abusing the complaint feature. They find a way to complain about the smallest of things that they can fix on their own. Despite yourself, you feel kind of frustrated for 5012.

After you discovered how many responsibilities he has taken upon himself, like bringing back the memories of the terminated reapers, your respect for him grew a little. He doesn't ignore the complaints like you thought he would either. He reads every single one.

It would be easier for him if the reapers only submitted complaints about real problems and not that they didn't like the color of the walls in the common room.

But sometimes when he acts like a jerk, you think it serves him right.

Finally, you found a different paper that was contained in an envelope. You could not see its contents, but it had 5012’s name and address written in front. Assuming that is the private letters 5012 told you about, you place them into a separate category.

5012 had stopped watching you a while ago, maybe when he felt that you had got the hang of it and was reading through a few documents already while occasionally writing stuff.

You peeked at what he was writing now and then, not to really read it but to see him write. You wanted to use a pen so bad! But you did notice how neat and elegant his handwriting is; it made you feel so jealous. How was he so good at everything?

The clock on his desk says it was five-twenty-two. You made up a challenge for yourself to sort five hundred documents by then.

When you started to do it, however, you got carried away by your thoughts and lost count. But by the time it hit five forty, you had fully sorted one whole stack.

You glance back at 5012, but you see that he still has not noticed this accomplishment. Your lips purse into a frown, and you were about to poke his arm to make him see, but you stop once you see his face.

The expression of pure concentration on his face caught you by surprise a little. His eyes remained fixed on the paper he was signing, and there was only slight movement in them when he read the pages.

His pen moved across the paper with perfect precision, never pausing and never hesitating. Once he was done, he quickly placed that paper aside and took a new one. Nothing could distract him even for a second.

It dawned on you that he completely forgot you were here next to him, unbelievable…

The stacks that had the letters addressed specifically to him were smaller than the others. He gave more priority to those, you could guess. They must have information related to those terminated reapers then.

You follow the strands of his hair and realise that he has tied his hair at the back into a little bun. There were still a lot of strands flowing down, but it held back the ones covering the side of his face. His purple highlights were more visible now.

As disappointing as it was to know that he was too focused to be impressed by what you did, you kind of also admired him more. He was almost… devoted in a way… Despite it being to his work, you found that devotion captivating.

He did not get distracted by anything; his attention was unwavering and absolute.

But you were no saint either; there was something extremely attractive about it. Before you get into details, luckily, his voice snaps you out of your daze.

“Focus on your task, 0213.” He says, gaze still down on the paper.

So, he was paying attention!

You huff, annoyed, and turn back to sort through the second stack.

Taking a deep breath, you get to it with the same amount of determination, whether or not 5012 noticed. You felt proud of yourself anyway. After taking the second huge stack down, you whip your head to 5012 with a smug look. He still doesn’t look at you, but you internally welcome him for making his life easier than ever.

You reluctantly drag your eyes to see the third stack. It was the largest of them all…

For a few seconds, you tilt your head backwards and lean on the chair. It was fun at the start, but now you feel tired and bored. But you couldn’t give up now, and it was also the last one. If you did, it would likely bother you forever.

Stretching your back a little, you begin to sort the papers, much slower than the first two stacks. Your thoughts start to wander somewhere else as you mechanically repeat the process. What were you thinking about? You didn’t remember. It was probably nothing important anyway.

As soon as you place the last paper in the complaints pile, you snap out of your imagination. You realised you finished separating all three Mount Everests of paperwork.

It made you feel happy? Was this why 5012 was addicted to working? A sense of pride swells in your chest, and you break into a wide smile. You look at all three sorted stacks in satisfaction.

Better do productive stuff as less often as you can, though, or you would risk turning into Mr. Grumpypants.

You turn your head towards him to gloat, “I sorted all three stacks! Faster than how long you are taking to sign them!” The corner of your lips lifted into a smirk.

He looks at the sorted paperwork, and you notice how his eyes slightly lose their usual unamused look, and he seems a little… Impressed? It wasn’t obvious, as it was when he saw that you had got your glamour first try the day before, but he was definitely a tiny bit impressed.

He straightens his already straight posture to address you. “There are way more things to accomplish than sorting papers, but it is a good start.”

You narrow your eyes at him, mouth forming a little frown.

“I will admit your enthusiasm to do even the unappealing tasks is appreciable. Good work, 0213.” He says, his eyes focused on you for the first time since all morning. He had placed his pen on the table.

That compliment… You could have accepted it and left it at that. Him saying that is already huge, but you worked too hard for the bare minimum.

“Uh huh, thanks, I think. But I did not just do paperwork. I helped you with your paperwork, so a little thanks would be nice.” You lean slightly towards him from your chair and give him an expectant look.

“You were the one who volunteered even when I clearly stated I did not want your help. So, it is you who should be thanking me for letting you assist me.” He says before turning back to the paper in front of him. You give him a look of disbelief.

That bastard…

Your expression slowly shifts into a glare as you stare at the side of his head, wishing you could burn a hole through it.

“You may leave my office since you are done with your task.”

An audible sound of frustration escapes your lips as you get up from the chair.

“Put the chair back where it was.” He says, not looking up from his paper.

With a grumble, you pick up the heavy chair and place it in the spot you picked it up from. Once you did, you swiftly turned towards the door to storm off.

“0213.”

His voice makes you halt in place despite your will, and you turn back towards him.

He flicks his pen towards the stationery stand that contained all the colorful pens you were eyeing. “Take one.” He says before shifting his attention back to what he was doing.

You hesitate for a moment, caught off guard.

Did he really mean it? It was a stupid thought, but it did surprise you. Your frustration at him magically disappeared just like that. You suddenly felt shy for some reason.

It was weird, but you tentatively moved back towards his desk and picked the pen with the color that stood out to you the most.

“Thank you.” You mumble a little higher than a whisper.

He just hums in response, and you quickly move towards the door to leave. You close the door quietly behind you; it must be six-something in the ‘morning’ right now.

You walk back to your room a little faster, excited to test the pen out.

I've been writing another 5012 fanfiction besides this one. Sighs, let my brain do its job lol. Oh yeah and the pages keep going actually.

WHAT IF HE FINDS OUT MOTHS AND BUTTERFLIES START OFF AS WORMS..

I'M SO COOKED WHAT IF HE EATS ME ALIVE ๐·°(৹˃ᗝ˂৹)°·๐

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—★★★★:

~*Atlas somehow starts panicking*~

"HELL!! even 8394 is a Raven!!! HE MIGHT EAT YOU TOO!!! 😨"

They slowly turn back at you in horror and suspicion

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—★★★★:

~*somehow, he started sweating...*~

"Thats where you're wrong-!!!"

"Ive learnt that penguins eat fish! I mean... I'm not really a fan of sea food but sure-"

"But you have to say that to 5012! He's an owl... And owls eat worms most of the time!!!!"

Holy shit I'm so sorry I got shy I do NAWT know how to flirt....

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-"Awh! Well thanks for the compliment!"