#soldier! reader

Sweet, kind Isabel. She had just been a starved, homeless kid when he had found her. His heart hadn't been able to accept the idea of just leaving her there, of walking past her and ignoring her like he forced himself to with all the others. Farlan had only smiled at him when he brought her home and had given her some bread. It had been his way of saying he agreed with Levi's decision.

Since then, they had been a trio. They'd wreak havoc in the underground together, working hard to sustain themselves. Levi, knowing his superior strength, took up more work. He didn't mind it, feeling more safe ensuring their well being with his own hands.

It eventually became a pattern, of leaving it all to him. Sometimes it made him feel pressured, most of the time he pressured them to keep it up. He was too nervous, too scared that he would lose his self made family if he didn't protect them.

His worries hadn't been for nothing, his fears of losing them hadn't been unfounded. Unfortunately, his own actions had been the root cause of it.

If only he hadn't insisted that they believe in him. If only he had kept them close and hadn't gone off on his own. Farlan would be alive right now, and so would Isabel. Had Levi not pushed them to pick, his family would be safe and sound, with him.

Instead, here he was, lying in bed, covered in blankets, and unable to to do anything but mourn.

He would never be the same again, for he would never have his family back. All the positive emotions he had accessed in the years of being with them, had died, leaving behind a shell of a man.

It was like the candle lighting up the room had been shut off by wind. One strong breeze cut off the entire light source, leaving all the darkness in the room what it needed to thrive and spread. Levi didn't think that candle could ever be lit up again, that he could ever experience care for another human being again.

It felt like his heart had been effectively killed.

And that's when he heard the door open.

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He heard you put down the tray, but could tell you hadn't immediately left after. You were still there, staring at him perhaps. Probably ridiculing him for his depression, like he could tell everyone else was.

It ignited a fury in him, an anger he had felt leave his body once he had butchered that titan to pieces. He suddenly wanted to be violent, to destroy everything that crossed his path. Anything that could serve as outlet for his grief. Just as he thought to get out of the blankets and confront whoever had dared to enter his room-he heard the door shut.

Levi sits up, frowning. His hair is all over the place and his uniform direly needed to be cleaned. But he didn't care, he wanted to know why you had dared to enter his room. What gave you the right. He didn't care that you had come to give him food, he just wanted to pick a fight.

Throwing the covers off of him, he ignored the voice in his head that chimed at him to clean his shit up. But he would do that later. Right now, his hands were itching to unleash violence on something. Or rather, someone.

He followed you out, noting that you were a female. His stealth abilities were top notch-a novice like you couldn't even hope to notice him, walking along like nothing was happening.

You paused, and Levi stopped short, thinking he had been found out. He didn't bother to hide himself, after all, he was here to face you. His eyebrows furrowed as he distinctly heard a few male voices chattering.

‘H-Hey did you see that midget from the underground?’

Levi tensed, having a good idea of where this was going. He couldn't help noticing the way you had done the same.

'Yeah. You see the nerve he has, locking himself up in that room like he’s actually mourning. That fucker didn’t even join for the cause.'

He frowned, so what if he hadn't joined the suicidal corps for their cause. Isabel and Farlan had been alive, just like any other person. They had loved and cared for him, and he had done the same for them. Only ungrateful surface dwellers would think he had no right to mourn his friends.

It made his fist clench. You were the furthest thing from his mind now, these men would be the fight he needed ot sate his blood lust.

'Let’s.. Let’s teach that midget a lesson. I bet he’s putting it on. He’s just scum from the underground, he doesn’t even belong here.’

Levi was long accustomed to being called words like that. He fucking hoped they would approach him to 'teach a lesson.' As they all decided they would 'counsel' him on the death of his friends, Levi wanted to laugh. The underground and the surface really did have the same type of scum on it.

Their voices got louder as they approached, and Levi prpeared himself to kick their asses to hell and back-

--Only for you to grab one of the mens arms and smash him against the wall.

Confused, he kept himself out of sight, watching as you took on all three of them. He couldn't understand why you were doing this. Were you like him, frustrated and needing a way to let loose? It made sense, those drunk ass men were good target practice. But he couldn't help feeling that there was more to this.

'Have a little compassion you jerks! He just lost his friends!'

You were defending him? Him? The scum of the underground? Against your precious cormades? Levi could feel the fight in him dying out, being replaced by emotions he had thought that he would never feel again.

'If anyone of you dares to approach him, I swear I'll get the Commander on your asses!'

You were holding one of them in a choke hold, confident that they couldn't overwhelm you.

Levi was in awe of you, watching you lecture and beat up the men that planned on attacking him. The last time someone had defended him like this was Farl-

His breath seized, and he closed his eyes, feeling an abundance of emotions he just couldn't identify. He couldn't word them out, not today.

But he knew he felt grateful to you.

Once he was sure you wouldn't get hurt, he went back to his room. He took the soup and the bread from the tray you had left, and began to eat, allowing himself to not think about anything.

Unbeknownst to him, the candle flickered back on.

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He takes note of you after that, his eyes seeking you out whenever you were in vicinity. He's accepted his role in the corps, his responsibility as a soldier, but he can't help gravitating towards you.

You remind him of Farlan, but it's different. Farlan had wanted to be his friend, but you? You came to his defense, solely out of the kindness of your heart. You want nothing in exchange.

You don't boast about it, don't flaunt it, not to him or anyone else. If Levi hadn't seen you defend him with his own eyes, he would have never found out about it. Those men don't even look in his direction, not after what you did to them.

He feels curious about you, and allows himself to keep you in his radar.

He settles into his job well, climbing the ranks quicker then he thought he would. But Levi is quick to realise why--there just aren't enough people in the Corps. They need him, and if it means having to put aside their reservations about his origins, then so be it.

It makes his day a little better to watch Erwin sweat over keeping him around. He doesn't plan to leave, but it's nice getting a little special treatment. Especially all the free tea he gets.

He doesn't know how to approach you, and even if he did, he has no idea of what to say. Should he tell you he knows what you did? Thank you for it?

He's not used to making friends, so he doesn't know how to be friends with you. Rather, he contends himself with watching you from afar, keeping an eye out for you just in case.

You're a strong, capable soldier, and it brings him a little relief to know that. As his time in the survey Corps piles up, Levi notices how easily some of his comrades get slaughtered. How helpless he is to stop it all.

He selfishly celebrates your safe return from each expedition in his mind.

He can't help noticing you, how kind you are. You put everyone around you at ease, making jokes. He remembers the first time you talked to him, how flustered he had felt afterwards.

'Levi I'm beginning to think the walls were built to protect the titans from you. Not us from them.'

Everyone had laughed, and Levi had felt heat creep up his cheeks at it. It had launched an entire debacle of comrades lauding his strength, one he hadn't been able to shut down. Everyone had been too drunk to be scared of him, and he had been too lost in his thoughts about you to be terrifying enough.

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His following interactions with you are cordial and meaningful at the same time. Ranging from drinking tea together, to practicing with your gear at the same time.

Even though he can't quite explain it, he finds himself making exceptions for you. You're not that good at cleaning, just average, but he doesn't have the heart to scold you for it like with everyone else. He finds himself turning a blind eye to it, blaming your mess on others and letting you off the hook.

It doesn't make much sense on his part, but it happens without him even planning it. There's just something about you that makes him automatically nicer. Levi doesn't question it much, instead opting to simply follow his gut instincts without regrets.

He's too tired of having to think on the battle field, feeling exhausted in his efforts to keep everyone alive. Being around you has a powerful effect on him- for just being your vicinity makes him feel at peace.

Maybe it's because he just misses his friends, and has latched on to you. Or maybe he's too worried about the others still judging his background, thus making him cling to you, the only person he knows doesn't give a damn.

Or maybe it's just that he's very much interested in you- and it's so foreign that he can tell it's not just friendship.

Friendship was when he wanted to help Farlan not die carrying crates that are too heavy for him. He's sure it's not him snatching them away before you even look at them.

Friendship is being okay with his friends talking to other people, not feeling possessive about the low lives who flirt with you. It's certainly not imagining different ways to teach them how to keep their hands to themselves.

Friendship should be being okay with the bare minimum physical affection, not day dreaming being wrapped up in your arms, wondering about how soft they would feel.

He's got a good idea of what he's feeling, but he doesn't have enough nerve to verbalise it. Doesn't have the required courage needed to look you in the eye and say it.

He needs a push, and not the literal one Hange tries to give him everytime she catches him staring at you. He knows he should at least admit what he feels about you in his own mind, but he just can't.

Until he does.

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Ever since he's accepted his position in the survey corps, Levi has made it mission to give it his all. Every order is carried out swiftly, every action is conducted with purpose. He's devoted himself to his job-- no one could link the brash underground thug to the man he is now.

And he likes it that way.

The job isn't easy, of course, especially with all the losses incurred on every expedition. He feels grief for every life lost outside the walls, inwardly chastising himself for not being there, even though he knows its out of his hands.

His hands itch with the urge to do something for his fallen cormades, who gave up their lives to help them succeed. Their young, bright expressions flash in mind, because he was fond of them. He wonders what he can do to honour them, and comes up with two methods.

One, he begins to take their wings of freedom insignia off their dead bodies, keeping them safe and sound for their loved ones. To him, it's proof that they were alive.

Two, he starts making them special graves. It's a laborious task, especially on his own, but he wants to do it. He has to do it, if only to give himself and everyone a way to talk to them, to tell them that they're remembered, even in their deaths.

It's one day he's in the midst of his self assigned mission that you stumble upon him.

He notices you from the corner of his eye, wondering what you think of what's upto. He pretends not to notice the smile you flash his way, knowing that it'll be harder to hold back his blush if he dwells on you too long.

You walk away, and he finds himself slightly dissapointed. He figured you'd at least try to talk to him a little, but shoves his thoughts aside. However he finds himself pleasantly surprised when you return just a few moments later, with a shovel in your hand.

As you flash him a grin and begin to dig as well, he barely manages to take his eyes off of you. Returning to his own task, he finally admits it to himself.

He likes you, scratch that, he's more then half way in love with you. And if you keep this up, he's not sure he can control himself and keep these feeling bottled up for much longer.

He's not sure he can stay away from you for much longer, and a part of him is aching for that time to come.

Now that's he's admitted it to himself, he wonders if he can admit it you.

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The most notable moment he has with you is, unfortunately, when he saves you from a titan. He had hoped that he would never have to see you in this situation, but when has he ever gotten what he hopes for?

He manages to save you in the nick of time, and he's sure he's going to have nightmares about it. You almost falling into a titans mouth, your expression frozen in terror. It's something he'll remember in his darkest moments, a scene right out of his worst fears.

He can't bring himself to keep his distance after saving you, wanting to ensure that you're not injured in anyway. He knows his grip is more delicate then usual, his eyes are more worried then expressionless. But he can't help it.

You mean more to Levi then you think, more then he can even comprehend himself.

He's a little giddy, like a cadet with a crush on his senior, when he finds out your horse isn't there. It means you have to ride on his horse with him, the idea of which makes him feel shy and a little more excited then it should.

You fall asleep on the way back, your head resting on his chest. He doesn't have the heart to wake you up, to the point he sneaks you past everyone in the formation and gently lays you down in the cart. He covers you with his cloak and eyes your peaceful expression, heart sorely wishing for things he's never known he wanted.

There's an urge to brush the strands of hair on your face, he tries to resist it at first but ultimately gives in. His hands are stiff, and he's alert, worried you might wake up. But the moment he manages to brush them aside, he hurriedly moves away from you.

His heart is beating too fast, and he doesn't know how to calm it down.

He's doesn't think he even wants to.

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Dream do come true-especially in Levi's case. He's dreamt of all of his friends dying, and life has served accordingly. Every worst case scenerio that has ever invaded his mind, has the tendency to be brought to life.

It stings really, the injustice of it all. But he knows better then to complain-like always, he makes peace with the situation, and moves on. He refuses to look back and cry, knowing he'll end up in drowning in regrets if he does. He braces himself for the future--likely to be a very dark and bleak one.

He never, in hold widest dreams, expected one of his deeply desired dreams to come true.

He's been digging deep inside himself, trying to find the needed courage to approach you with romantic intentions. To let you know his hearts desires. But so far he's achieved nothing.

So when you approach him one night, eyes unable to look into his own, he's on the edge. He overthinks, expects you to reject him. You probably noticed him pathetically staring at you, and no doubt decided that he needs to be put in his place. He knows he deserves it, after all, what right does a man like him have to even think about someone as pure as you?

He braces himself to be brutally turned down, what he doesn't expect is the words that tumble out of your mouth.

'I.. I'm in l-love with you.'

The words are stuttered, with a red blush spread across your cheeks. He stares at you for a few seconds, mentally commanding your eyes to meet his. When they don't, he takes action with such confidence that he surprises himself.

His hands move to grasp your wrists, and he pulls you closer to him. He rests his forehead against yours, finally managing to get you to look him in the eyes.

Levi smiles, a sight that only you would have the pleasure of seeing for the rest of your life. He chuckles a little, moving even closer to you.

Dreams really do come true in his case. Sometimes, even the good ones.

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The camp was jam-packed with soldiers turned fugitives. Lost, pitiful, battered. Their uniforms had gotten soaked in the battlefield and were now drying out, shrinking and getting too small for them. It looked as if they were made for children’s games or theatricals, but grownups had pulled them on and started doing everything in earnest. Their faces were scratched and smeared with mud; their steel-tipped low boots had dried out and cracked. 

You were no exception to these harrowing conditions. Your undershirt was a size too big and your jacket a size too small, both pulled off corpses. One of your boots was stuffed with socks so it would fit properly and the other pressed your toes back into your foot. The only pair of pants you had was stained with blood, vomit, and had a white stain on the pant leg that you refused to identify. Your gloves were a patchwork of fabric, and they were the only article of clothing that fit sort of well. There was no doubt in your mind that once you died, you would be stripped and buried naked in a mass grave that could be mistaken for a mass orgy. 

The only thing you truly felt like you owned was your dog tags. 

When they chimed, it felt like the sound threw you down from the heavens and pulled you up from hell. It was the only thing that could keep you grounded in the forever battle between going insane and going numb. 

That’s why it was so odd when you heard dog tags chime from an alley. 

Whoever was the superior of your superior of your superior decided not to carpet bomb this city, but war and the general displeasure it brought had evacuated it. There weren’t any rules regarding where the soldiers had to stay, but the closer together they were, the more comforted they felt. You were on the edge of the boundary, finding the delicate balance of comfort in the masses and comfort in privacy. 

The dog tags in the alley chimed again. 

Armed with whatever guns were on your person and the weapons in your satchel, you crept over to the alley. Even though it was bright outside, the alley was dark and desolate. It was exactly as a stereotypical alley should be. You assured yourself that there was nothing that could go wrong. You weren’t exactly sure that that statement was true. 

The dog tags chimed from beneath a dumpster. 

Checking over your shoulder and keeping a cautionary hand on your knife’s grip, you pushed the dumpster with your foot. It rolled away dejectedly. The only thing that was underneath it was a puddle that showed you your miserable reflection. 

You rolled your eyes and kicked at the puddle. Now, on top of the guarantee of PTSD, you had to be tested for schizophrenia. War brings out the best in people. 

The ripple in the water settled and a small shine appeared. Kneeling down, you skimmed your fingers over the top of it. A hand made of black flames grabbed your wrist and pulled you through. Before you even had time to scream, everything went black.

You woke up on hard ground with blood in your eyes. 

Sitting up, you instinctually rub down your entire face, pressing your fingers into your eyes a little too hard. Tears seeped out from underneath your eyelids and ran down your face. You opened your eyes again. 

There wasn’t blood in your eyes. There was blood in the sky. 

You decided that you couldn’t lay down and die, even though you were already laying down and probably in the process of dying. With shaky legs, you got up and started walking. The entire landscape was monochrome with splashes of red. The sand was grey and didn’t shift when you stepped on it. It was uncomfortably cold. 

A distant crackling broke up the sound of wind. It came from a fire in a metal barrel that was half your height. You stumbled over, removing your gloves and stuffing them in a jacket pocket. You sat down, got as close as you could bear, then a little closer. The flames reached for your hands, then fell and jumped back up in a desperate effort for contact. 

Footsteps alerted you of someone’s presence. You got on one knee and looked around, unholstering your sidearm. 

“Come out,” you said. “I have a gun and I’m not afraid to shoot.”

A small creature peeked out from behind a rock. He looked like he barely reached knee-height. Tentatively stepping closer, he revealed the rest of his body. He was dressed in a tiny trench coat, fabric covering his head and mouth. Red goggles covered his eyes, concealing emotions you didn’t really try too hard to decipher. 

You holstered your sidearm and turned back to the fire, sitting back down. “Great. I’m dead, I’m in hell, and the demons are tiny and nonthreatening. Just put me back on the field.”

The grey little imp scurried around you and sat next to the fire. He warmed his tiny, floating hands before pulling out weapons that matched his size and started cleaning them. 

You let your head loll to the side and watched him work. “What’s your name, demon?”

“Hank,” he said in a low grumble. 

“Hank.” you repeated, then laughed. “Such a… normal name for a demon.”

He gave you a look before finishing cleaning one of his weapons and pulling out another one that looked like a miniature M4 Carbine. After he separated the upper and lower receivers, he sat the lower receiver aside, cleaning the flash hider with an old toothbrush. 

“Doesn’t the Dark Lord give you better tools to clean your guns with?” you asked. 

Hank shrugged and grumbled. “Don’t serve Dark Lord. Not much choice for cleaning.”

You pulled your satchel to your lap and opened it, pulling out an oil bottle and a double-ended nylon brush. Gently taking the tiny upper receiver from Hank, you oiled the flash hider and started working at cleaning away the carbon residue. 

“I think toothbrushes are made of nylon, but this is the real top-notch shit. I got this field cleaning kit a few weeks ago and I’ve only gotten the opportunity to use it once. Nice to have a break and just to get your mind off everything,” you mumbled. The way you talked was stream of consciousness, and you missed the way Hank started to pay more attention with every word you said.

When you were satisfied with your work, you handed the upper receiver back to Hank. You almost laughed at the way he briefly marveled at it before reattaching it like he didn’t care. 

“Got more?” Hank mumbled.

“More stuff in the cleaning kit?” 

“More guns.”

You thought for a second about revealing your entire hand to Hank. Pulling your lips into a thin line, you sighed. He was a quarter of your size, and his guns were even smaller. 

Erwin sits in his office, dimly lit by a few candles. His hands don't stop as they continue to write, scribbling on the pages without pause. He looks like his usual self; the untouchable, always composed commander.

Nothing can get past him, nothing can make him panic. It's well known that hardly anything has ever phased him, even since before he became the commander. It's why he's considered to be the best at his job.

But there are signs, signs of a weary man. Someone struggling to keep it all in, to not let out how awful he's feeling. Erwin knows himself well enough, he knows when he exhibits those signs. It's usually on nights like these that he has no choice but to acknowledge the overwhelming guilt he feels and give in to the urge to reminisce.

His hands are trembling a little as they write, his hair is slightly messy, from his running his hands through it so much. His foot lightly taps against the wood of the desk, and his face is more grim then neutral. If anyone who truly knew him took a closer look, they would see that he wasn't doing well.

Erwin sighs, putting the pen down. He knows no one is near by, no one who can see him break down a little. So he allows himself to lower his walls, and bury his head in his arms. He welcomes the darkness and drifts off in his thoughts.

He met you three years ago, an aspiring soldier. Strong, witty, reliable and all the things one needed in a capable solider. He had appreciated you, your never ending strength and ability to turn every bad situation beneficial for them. Even at the cost of your own self.

He recalls how badly you would get injured in your attempts at saving lives, how you would selflessly give you up your gas to Levi, knowing he would use it better, while completely ignoring the danger you put yourself in. He remembers how you never hesitated even then, going as far as to call titans to you by yelling, in hopes that your comrades could attack them in their distraction.

What an honourable soldier you had been, having devoted everything to your duty. You had easily attracted him to you with those traits.

Initally, it had only been comraderie. But then it had evolved, growing beyond what two people who work together should be like. The two of you struck up a quiet friendship, often spending time with each other outside of work. It had genuinely been to dicuss work, at the start, but then months in, he found himself embracing you the way a lover would, not how a friend should.

There were parts of you that only Erwin learned about, and there were parts of Erwin only you knew and got to keep to yourself. No one else would ever know the secrets between the two of you, the laughs, the jokes, the moments where you could only see each other.

Those were things you had taken to your grave, and Erwin had locked up in the darkest parts of his heart and mind. He would never let anyone know of them. After all, it was the least he could do, even though he knows that you would rather he forget them all, rather then reminisce about them.

Erwin is too selfish to honour that last, unsaid request of yours. He has to at least cling to your memory, for it's the only thing keeping him from driving himself to the brink of insanity.

No one ever knew about your relationship, and the two of you had been fine that way. Spending time with each other under the guise of work, sneaking kisses after lights out, all of it had been enjoyable. A relationship he hadn't thought possible had blossomed, one that stuck to him with every thought.

He used to drift off to thoughts of your sweet smile during casual meetings, to the point Levi would threaten to throw him out the window for it. He would plan secret dates, often pretending he was taking you along for work, and take you to nice restaurants. Almost every moment of his spare time had been devoted to you, to enjoy your presence and bask in how you make him feel.

Back then, he had been so lovestruck, so spoiled by your affections, that not a day went by where he could help thinking of you. Not a day went by where he didn't fall for you more. The warm feeling in his chest at the mere sight of you was love, and he knows that he'll never experience it for someone else again.

Not a day goes by where Erwin doesn't miss you. But he also knows that he has no right to, not when he's the one who got you killed.

Erwin shut his eyes tight, to the point they hurt, as he tries to bury his head in to his arms even further. He wishes there was a way for him to become one with darkness, to never have to open his eyes again and acknowledge that he lives in a world where you don't exist.

And it's all because of him.

It had been such a simple mission, an expedition solely to set up check points. They were expecting minimal losses, considering how short the mission would be. There shouldn't have been anything that went wrong, beyond the usual.

But then there was.

In a spur of the moment deicison, Hange had decided she wanted to try capturing a titan, all on her own. She had run off, with her gas not even half full, towards a 7 meter abnormal titan. He had been about to send Levi after her, only to remember that Levi was in the left flank that day, not the central like usual.

Hange had ended up being surrounded by multiple titans in her chase, and had gotten knocked out. She had hung from a tree, surrounded by titans. At that point, he only had your squad available to help.

It had been a tough decision, he had known. Anyone he sent there was going to die saving Hange, and any sane person wouldn't bother with saving Hange after that. But, he had been forced to pick.

You were a reliable soldier, but Hange was too brilliant. He had a gut feeling that they would need Hange and her brain more in the future, and Erwin wasn't one to not follow his instinct. A cold hard fact was that they needed her more then you.

So he demoted you. In mere seconds, you went from being the person who owned his heart, to another replaceable soldier.

He had seen the anguish in your eyes, the absolute hurt. You had known you were going off to your death, and that the man you were in love with was sending you there for his own goals. But you didn't argue.

You could have said that Hange wasn't worth an eight person squad of skilled soldiers. That Hange had gotten herself in this mess on her own and she was unreliable because of it. But you didn't make any of those valid points, knowing that Erwin wouldn't give a damn.

Instead, you took a off, only turning back once to glance at him.

You shot him a look, a sight he had yet to forget. The sheer hatred in your eyes, the betrayal, it had given away how much he had fucked up. It often haunts him in his dreams, knowing he deserves it.

The sight of you getting mauled to death by titans was even worse. It had been the one expedition where he had actually needed to throw up upon getting back to headquarters.

Erwin sits back up, leaning against the chair, his eyes full of an unusual amount of sorrow. He gazes out the window, feeling even worse.

You had loved the full moon, often dragging him out to watch it with you. You would bring snacks, and tea, and just lean against him. The serenity he had felt with you was out of his reach nowt was what made it more painful for him, knowing that he had hand delivered you into the arms of death.

The sight of the full moon reminds him of you, of what he's lost. He can't even complain, or curse you out for haunting him like this in death. He did this, he robbed you of your life, robbed himself of a chance at happiness, for his own selfish goals.

He can only reminisce about you, think about the good times he shared with you. But he can never have you back. He can never turn back time and win back the woman who's one smile made him weak at the knees. Who knew how to make just the right tea he needed to calm down from a frustrated mood. Who could sass Levi to hell and back and not bat an eyelash at the grump man's violence.

With a deep breath, he forces his himself to pick up the pen again, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in his chest. He begins to write again, resigned to his loneliness and regrets.

Maybe you'll forgive him once he starts his time in hell. Then again, a devil like him, who sarcficed others for himself, wasn't even worth forgiveness. Let alone worth you.

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