spite || levi x reader

1 - 1

You most absolutely can not do this.

These kids all look like they're twelve. Twelve! And while you have no idea how old you are, you know you're definitely not twelve. Granted, there's some people here who look more like your age. Hange told you that the earliest anyone can enlist is twelve years old, but a lot of people end up joining later, due to changes in career or loss of business or anything like that.

Still, the majority look much too young. You've seen the titans, you've been outside the walls; these kids have so much life in their eyes. They don't know what's out there.

Well, you muse to yourself as the instructor wades through the recruits, stopping to yell at most of them, I suppose there's always the Garrison. Or if they're lucky enough, the MPs. Hange had told you all about the ranking system and the three possible branches that you can be assigned to.

You'd told them you didn't want to be anywhere else other than the Survey Corps.

"You could go to the interior," Levi had said, glaring at you hard. "Live in safety."

"I don't care," you'd insisted. "I want to be where you are."

"Don't say shit like that, idiot."

That had been the last time you'd seen Levi, two weeks ago. You weren't sure how often you were going to see him over the next three years, but Hange promised that they'd drag Levi down to come visit.

Three years, you remind yourself.

You can do this.

Soon enough, the head instructor- you believe his name is Shadis- stops in front of you. You tighten your hand in your salute and meet his gaze, refusing to waver. "What's your name, maggot?" he demands, eyebrows narrowing as he glares at you.

You want to laugh at his attempt at intimidation. There's no one out there scarier than Levi.

Before you can reply, he says, "oh, don't even bother. I know your name. Commander Erwin told me about you."

Your fingernails dig into your palms. Then why'd you ask?

"No intention on rankings, then?" Shadis asks. "Dead set on Survey Corps?"

"Yes, sir," you say.

His glare darkens with a hidden pain behind his eyes. "We'll see how useless you really are."

You've got to admit, it is really nice sitting in a mess hall. The hall's alive with chatter, but you're older than the bulk of the group and not friends with anyone, so you're left alone. But you don't mind- you like to observe, watching who is easily angered and who gets in fights with who. So you decide to sit alone at the back of the room, at the very end of one of the tables, left to your meals in peace.

Days go by, and the intro training is desperately boring. A few lame self defense lessons which you pick up easily (Hange mentioned you could fight, and if it was against Levi, then you're betting you were damn good at it) and an intro to the ODM gear. For some reason, plenty of people seem to have trouble with sitting in a harness. The process comes easy to you; you even swing your arms around loosely, pretending you've got swords in hand, and you've got no difficulty staying balanced.

Shadis regards you with a cold eye. Sometimes, he looks at you like you're already dead.

It isn't until two weeks in before someone decides to bother you at your table. A boy with shaggy brown hair comes up to your table, plate clutched firmly in his hands. You meet his eyes: they're a startlingly bright blue-green. Or maybe just green? You can't tell in the lighting.