#postwar!levi x reader

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

postwar!Levi absolutely chafes under enforced bedrest, unfamiliar and uncomfortable with doing nothing

his useless legs feel like cinderblocks holding the waterlogged sack of his body to a riverbed, drowning slow

his nervous system hasn’t caught up to the uneasy peace, flooding his veins with adrenaline that has nowhere to go, leaving him gasping for air and sick over the side of his bed

he can’t clean the mess, and that might be the worst thing of all, the helpless wait for someone to witness his weakness

postwar!Levi can’t tell his fevered dreams from reality, follows the green smudge of Erwin’s cloak across an endless battlefield, calls to his commander till he’s lost his voice and wakes up tasting copper

the people who come to check on him are not who he wants to see- why hasn’t Hange visited, changing his bandages with their steady hands?

he leads Isabel and Furlan up a set of stairs that never seem to end, crunching over the hollow bones of birds that died searching for the sky

postwar!Levi finds his clarity has returned one featureless morning and he weeps for the first time since the battle of heaven and earth, mourns the loss of the delirium that had left the door open for his loved ones to creep through

he begins to recognize the recurring figures at his bedside, the gentle touch on his forehead that signals your arrival with water or blankets or bread

the light of anything more than a candle burns his blind eye, so he learns your face only by the flicker of firelight, the absence of shadow

postwar!Levi is desperate for something to occupy his fractured mind, painfully empty without the urgency of strategizing survival

you hide your surprise when he asks you to read to him in a voice rasped with disuse, saying he doesn’t care what it is, just something to focus on outside of himself, and you understand

you begin to visit him every evening, reading softly from your favorite books as he lies taut and silent in bed, brow furrowed in concentration, breathing through the pain that wracks his battered body

postwar!Levi finds unlikely comfort in your voice, your consistent presence, the slow walks along the winding paths of the stories you tell him

you take a quiet pride in the way he seems to soften each night, just barely, the deep black shadows under his haunted eyes fading into the color of an old bruise, his furrowed brow smoothing into satin as you read

postwar!Levi is sitting up when you arrive one evening, gives you the barest incline of his head in self-conscious greeting

he frowns and shrugs off your praise for his progress, doesn’t want to hear of how miraculous it is that he can heave his once-superhuman body up against the headboard, doesn’t confess how long it took or how much it hurt

he does, however, ask you for tea, not telling you that it would be the first time he’s accepted a cup he hadn’t prepared himself, swallowing a sick resignation with the request

postwar!Levi makes eye contact with you for the first time when he offers gruff thanks, shivering as your fingertips brush around the warm ceramic

something clenches in your chest and you turn away to hide it, occupying yourself with invisible specks of dust on his bedspread

you’re busy swiping the corner of your apron over the nightstand and miss the way his eyes go wide, then soften as he watches you bustle around him

“it’s alright. you don’t have to-” “-I know.”

the two of you speak at the same time, fall into the same embarrassed silence, watching each other warily in the low candlelight

your shadows overlap where they are thrown onto the wall as if they don’t realize the distance between the bodies that grew them, or refuse to recognize it at all

[leviraaaaaa]

"Lev?"

"Yes?" Levi looked up to see you leaning against the door, swaying on your feet. He sighed, realizing how drunk you must be. The night air was sweet, it flowed through your hair as you tried to adjust the stray strands.

You grinned sheepishly, stumbling over to him with unsteady feet. Levi sat up straight, ready to catch you if you fall.

"Whatcha doing out here alone?" You asked confusedly, tilting your head. Loud sounds came from the interior, voices and music tangling together. A lot of people was here in the usually empty house today.

"It was too loud inside." Levi replied. It was true. But perhaps not wholly. A tiny part of Levi knew he was avoiding you really.

Now wasn't that strange? Avoiding his newly-wed wife? On his wedding night?

But that was the problem.

It had been hours since he murmered the vows with you, your hands in his. It had been hours since then, but he still couldn't quite believe it. He still flinched every time his eyes fell on the gleam on his fingers.

It was a quite small wedding really. Go to the church, say your vows, then come back home with the guests. There weren't a lot of people left in you and Levi's life to invite, but there was still a handful. The brats, along with some Marleyan friends and acquaintances, the house was filled.

Levi had stayed in for the first few hours, talking to people, watching you talk to people. But then it became all too much. The questions, the teasings–it was too much. It was already too much for him, the bare concept of it, the fact that you were truly his now, it was all too much.

It felt like a dream, truly. You looked like a dream.

And he was so scared any second he might wake up.

So he stepped out, leaving you with all your friends as you laughed your head out at something Jean said. You gave a worried glance at Levi when he was leaving the room, but he only nodded, a gesture that all was well. Levi only needed to breathe a damn second.

What am I doing here? He thought.

What is she doing here with me?

This isn't how it should've been. You shouldn't have been stuck with him. You deserve better, someone whole, not..not someone as fucked as he was.

But yet there you were, clad in white with the brightest smile in your face. All throughout the day, he had not seen that smile fade once.

A girl like you had chosen him. Chosen him to spend your life with.

You were his now.

"I was always yours." You had told him right after. "I'd dedicated my heart for you, back in the first day of scouts, don't you know?"

He had wanted to run away then. Get the hell out of there because he didn't deserve the way you were looking at him.

He never did.

But here he was.

"Hey!" You snapped your fingers in front of him. "Heyyy! Earth to Levi?"

"Yes?" He looked up startled, broken from those parasites in his head. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking." You tutted disapprovingly.

Levi stared at you, scowling at how red your face was. "God, brat. How much did you drink?"

"I did not!" You gasped dramatically, hands flying to your chest as you clutched your heart. "I'm just..tipsy."

"You're going to be so fucking hungover tomorrow." He shook his head. "Just tipsy, huh?"

"Yes." You said defensively. "Also it's not my fault, Reiner made me drink."

"Of course he did." He sighed.

You put your hands on your hips, staring down at him. Then suddenly you leaned down, peering closely at him with parted lips and squinted eyes, head tilted with curiosity, like you were just seeing him now for the first time.

Levi instinctively leaned back. You were too close. "What?"

"Levi." You mutter.

"Yes?" He asked warily. You and your randomness wasn't anything new to him but it still leaves him on his toes everytime. Specially when you're drunk, there's no telling what you might do.

You observed his face with such intensity he felt warmth flooding his cheeks. You pulled back, finally seemed to have made up your mind on something.

"I think I like you a little."

Levi almost snorted then. Trying his best to hold back the smile that was tugging on his lips, he scoffed. "A little? Brat, you're married to me."

The information was absolutely new to you, it appeared. You pondered on his words, thinking closely. "Hmm" You hummed. "Yes. I think I like you a lot now that you mention it." You grinned. You didn't quite remember what he was talking about but you liked it. Being married wouldn't be bad.

"I know." His lips quirked. Such a rare sight.

Such a pretty sight, you thought.

"Do you like me?"

"Hm? Actually, no I don't think so. Not really."

You pouted. "But you're married to me too."

He reached for your waist, pulling you to his lap. Your legs straddled him. "Is that so?"

He smiled.

"Actually, I think I love you."

You grinned widely at the response, butterflies bursting in your stomach and your face flushed. "You're a simp."

"Definitely." He kissed your forhead. "For you? Definitely."

"And clingy."

"Shouldn't have married me then."

"You love me?"

"I love you."

You nodded thoughtfully.

"I changed my mind. I think I like you a whole lot. This much–" You streched your arms wide to show him the amount.

"You don't love me? You said you did."

"I did?" You squinted, considering his words. You let your fingers trace his face, running them over his scars. "You have a pretty face. So I must do."

"You think I'm pretty?"

"A whole lot."

"So you love anyone with a pretty face?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?" You paused. " No. Not sure. They don't have faces like you. "

A small smile. You stared wonderingly. The moonlight shone bright across his face and you wondered if this was an angel.

An angel said he loved you.

"You love me?" You repeated the question again.

"I love you."

"That's... nice of you."

He snorted. "How generous of me huh?"

"I'm married to you?"

"Yup. Just today."

"Forever?"

"Definitely."

"So you're mine?"

"Yours."

"You're so nice." You stared at him. His gray eyes gazed into yours. "Can I kiss you?"

"Do you want to?"

You nodded. You wanted to. You really, really wanted to. The silvery moonlight carressed his lips and you wondered if he tasted like stars.

"Im yours, aren't I?"

You gave him a shy smile. But slowly, hesitantly, you leaned forward. Pressing his lips against his. Then pulled away.

"They're so soft" wonder dripped your voice.

His face heated up a little. His ears turning red. "You should get drunk more often." He murmured.

"I'm not drunkkk," You whined, leaning again to kiss him. You held it longer this time, feeling him press back against you. Euphoria spread through your blood, mixing with the already existent alcohol. You lost all ability to form coherent thoughts, not that you had much ability today. And When you pulled away, you felt happiness. In the purest form.

"You're the nicest person I've ever met."

It was him to lean forward this time, and he didn't let go.

"I hope so."

A whisper against your lips.

@sad-darksoul

[littlerequiem]

Levi Ackerman from my post-war story, we mourned the sea. Commission done by the amazing & talented Sfonsecan - please do not re-upload without consent.

[leviackermanssjewishwife]

If you don’t think post war Levi is the prettiest, it’s okay to be wrong.

[leviismybby]

Watching postwar!Levi setting up the crib for your baby, he is kneeling and focusing on putting the wood pieces together. You watch as you lean on the doorframe with a smile, your belly is getting bigger by the day, the baby will be here in two months. He looks so attractive like this, his sleeves rolled up, his eyes are fully focused on setting up every piece correctly. "You look so attractive like that..." You say as you check him up and down, he did look good. He has been taking care of everything in the nursery, it made you melt.

Levi looks back at you. "Do I?" You approach him. "Yes, you do. This one isn't even out yet and you already make me want another one." He almost snorts at that. "Weren't you complaining just yesterday that he was kicking you in the rib?" You sigh and rub your belly. "That doesn't mean I don't want more." Levi stands up and walks over to you, he reaches out to gently hold your belly. "Let's take care of this one first. I'll give you as much babies as you want." He kisses your temple. "Unless you aren't ready to deal with more Ackermans running around..."

[stillackerman]

postwar!levi x reader

You're preparing for the event, which requires formal clothes.

You're watching how Levi is trying to fix his white ascot. He's been fighting with that piece of fabric for a few minutes now, still not satisfied with the result. You can almost sense his frustration in the air. You always can. And you also know that he won't ask you for help. His pride will never allow him.

You're getting up from the chair and coming closer. You look at his mirror image, your eyes meet, and you smile a little before speaking:

“Let me help you.”

Levi doesn't say a word, but he turns to you, giving you a free hand. You focus on the task, and slowly take care of this, everything must be perfect, the way he likes it.

You feel his eyes on you, focused the same way on your beauty as you're on the ascot. You're almost blushing; even after all this time, his gaze makes you feel weak on your knees.

When you've done, you look at him, putting your hand on his cheek and tracing his scars with your thumb.

“You look really handsome,” you whisper.

“Tch...” You know Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“I mean it!” You assure him, and to confirm it, you give him a sweet kiss. You feel how he relaxes at the touch of your lips.

And when you pull away, you see he's even more handsome than before. His skin gains some color, and he has happy sparkles in the eyes.

“We should go,” he says. “We can't be late.”

You nod. Levi takes the cane in one hand, and he gives you the free arm. You grab it, and both of you leave the room, looking like the most beautiful couple in the world.

[reive-1]

consider this: postwar!levi with bedhead and a comfy blanket watching you potter around the house (his ass is NOT reading..)

edit: updated/alternate version of this doodle here! <3

[abiatackerman]

Masterlist of personal headcanon and thoughts on Levi

Lulling levi to sleep

Levi's a mature boyfriend

How Levi handles period

The reason Levi used to act stoicly

Choosing Levi over everyone

Acts matter, words don't

Levi's reaction to "Haunting Adeline"

Kuchel and Levi

Is Levi a virgin?

Levi's ideal partner

Levi and cleaning

Levi and rain

[ackermansbest]

Imagine Levi taking care of you as you lay sick in bed. He would make you tea, clean up your used tissues, and cook you a soup so you get better, so he can call you brat again without feeling bad

[tortellimi]

thinking about how postwar!levi would wake up next to you, awoken of course by his face being peppered with kisses. if he dared to question you, he’d be shut up with soft kisses to his pillow soft lips. because why would he complain when he could let you love him?

[starrylevi]

🐚 A tiny bit of dadvi! Inspired by this tiktok 🐚

You watch Levi as he wheels his way across the boardwalk, stopping every once in a while to pick up something buried in the sand. You wait for a few seconds before walking over to him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Hey, whatcha doing?”

“Seashells.” Levi mumbles to you.

“Hm?” You don’t quite hear him.

Levi sighs and repeats himself. “Seashells.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. You glance over and see a small pile of seashells in his lap.

Levi answers your silent question as he follows your gaze. “They’re not for me. They’re for Armin.”

You take in his words and remember that Armin’s birthday is tomorrow. “That’s so-“

“Don’t. Please don’t.” He cuts you off before you make a big fuss and you giggle in response.

“Okay.” You snicker. “Do you need help?”

“Maybe.”

“I can carry the seashells for you.” You offer him.

He seems to contemplate it. “Okay…Thank you.”

You give him a beaming smile. “You’re welcome.”

You see a hint of pink on his cheeks before he mumbles a couple more words. “Love you.”

[happybird16]

Postwar!Levi prefers to sleep with you on his right side, although sleep is often a relative term for him. Most nights, haunting nightmares keep him wide awake for hours - visions of burning red flames and monstrous faces that linger even in the bedroom's darkness. These dreams leave his ears ringing, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and his heart threatening to burst from his chest. Yet, he finds solace with you on his right side, despite it being his blind side, as it makes him feel safer, especially in his unaware moments. This positioning allows him to twist to face you, ensuring that his scarred eye is nestled into the pillow, while his good eye catches a glimpse of your sleeping face. He traces the lines of your brow and the curves of your cheeks, the presence of you helping the terrifying shadows fade from his periphery.

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 1

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Explicit Content, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Switch Levi (WC: 6.7k)

( Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

-

The first time you see Levi, whispered-about-thug and recently-enlisted Scout, you think he doesn’t seem as scary as everyone paints him to be. Sure, he has a hell of a glare, but that’s not the thing that sticks out.

No, what is most striking is the loneliness.

How alone he looks, shadows like bruises under his eyes.

.

.

.

Levi is lost.

He’s not lost in the physical sense, of course.

Levi very well knows where he is. He has repeated these words to doctors so many times he’s starting to sound like a broken record: My name is Levi Ackerman. I come from Paradis Island. I live in Marley.

No, Levi isn't lost physically.

Rather, Levi is lost in the ways often described in novels. Those cheap-thrill books Erwin liked to read so much, the kind that ensured suspense and chest-clutching moments. Usually, it involved a character going on a journey and finding the thing they lost.

“It’s all a metaphor, you see?” Erwin once pointed out.

But Levi did not see the point of metaphors back then, and he certainly doesn’t get it now.

Levi was a soldier for most of his life: so that he could aid the fight against titans, so that Erwin’s vision to help humanity could come true, so that Hange would not be alone in shouldering the weight of it all, so that the world would not crumble under Eren’s actions.

Now, three years after the Battle of Heaven and Earth, his body is changed, and his mind… well, that's the thing that’s lost, isn’t it? He’s still sane, he knows that, but… there's ways he feels himself slipping.

The first two years after the Rumbling were by far the hardest. There was so much to rebuild, so much to do. Levi spent most of his time in makeshift hospitals and infirmary tents. Refugees all around. People who had lost everything, who were in search of a new home, but who lacked the means to do so (Levi never thought he’d have to witness the sight of starving children all over again).

And then, one day, a new start.

Onyankopon was the one who discovered Mare a year ago. He told Levi that it would be the perfect place to retire from his soldiering days. "Mare," Onyankopon said, "is the town where sky meets the sea."

Levi isn’t sure what to make of that idiom; there’s no such thing as a place where sky and sea connect. Another metaphor, perhaps—another thing that flies right above his head.

But he decided to take Onyankopon's proposal there and then. Levi had been idle for far too long, and there was still fire in him, a will to push on.

To keep going, just as he had in the past.

A month later, Levi moved into his new home.

His one-story cottage is located by the edge of town, overlooking a cliff that descends into sandy shores. It is far enough from the crowds, just the way Levi likes it, while still remaining close to all necessities—just ten minutes away from Onyankopon's home.

Aside from that, everything else is just… strangely ordinary.

Because Levi now has a roof over his head. He has a garden, where he grows herbs. A patio, where he watches sunsets. He gets money from Marley for his so-called war accomplishments (accomplishments is a strange word for murder, he thinks). He sees doctors, all kinds of doctors—specialists that didn't exist back on Paradis.

What keeps him going through it all are his routines. Levi has always been a creature of habit, and that much hasn't changed in his new life.

There’s tea, for one. Despite all the special blends available here in Marley, Levi still prefers the tea he drank back in the Underground, made from cheap black tea leaves—over-extracted, with no added sugar. Piss water, Kenny used to call it, and maybe the old geezer had a point. The tea is bitter to its core, much too strong for anyone to stomach (“I’m going to be on the shitter for days after this,” Hange once declared after trying it.). And yet, Levi likes it this way. 

There’s his knife, the one Kenny gave him decades ago. Levi still keeps it in his boot or tucked under his pillow. He doesn’t hold it out of sentimentality per say; Levi just doesn’t see the point of throwing it away.

As for other patterns in his life, Levi likes to keep busy. Levi sees his doctor on a weekly basis. He works part-time at the local carpentry shop. He tries to improve his body on a daily basis, even when his mind fights him against it. His leg hurts some days; it’s at its worst when it rains. Over the last year, Levi's regained some of his mobility, enough that he can sometimes walk using a cane when his legs aren't too stiff, though most days, he uses a wheelchair. It frustrates him, sometimes, his reduced range of mobility—he misses pushing his body to the limit—but the physiotherapist ensures him that he is just where he needs to be. He feels coddled, and that annoys him.

Then, there are the people in his life. Scarce as they are, they are all that is left of his past and Levi clings onto scraps of conversation where he can find them.

Most of the brats of the 104th are living their own lives. Levi is relieved to see that. When the war ended, he worried that they would linger too much, but they never did. They moved on.

Falco and Gabi, rowdy kids they are, travel from Liberio to see him. They tell him how Falco is taking flying lessons, how Gabi is part of a youth association that’s going to make Marley a better place.

Onyankopon is another familiar face—a talkative one at that. Every time the man stops by Levi's house, he brings something new to show Levi. Sometimes, it feels like Onyankopon is on a personal mission to get Levi up to speed with the new world. Coffee, typewriters, vinyl players… there doesn’t seem to be a thing Onyankopon doesn’t want to show him.

All these machines are met with a somewhat lukewarm reception on Levi’s part.

All except one.

Because if there's one invention Levi is inclined to think is useful, even if a part of him equally loathes it, it's the telephone. Onyankopon was ecstatic about it, and his enthusiasm eventually rubbed off on him too. It's not that Levi likes to use it—the sound waves, the grated voices… they remind him of the sound of planes and machines, of war and guns, and that gets his heart palpating to the point where he sweats (because Levi’s learned that with his growing age, his body sweats faster than ever before, so much so that Levi sometimes has to wash twice a day).

But the first time Levi hears a familiar sound—your voice—on the receiving end of the telephone, his breath stops. His clammy fingers tighten around the phone, and he glances at Onyankopon, who only gives him a thumbs up in response, two dimples appearing on his lifted cheeks.

Levi decides then that the telephone might not be so bad after all.

“Levi,” your distorted voice sounds from the other side. “Can you hear me?”

At first, Levi doesn’t know what to say. He’s seen phones, of course; he remembers Hange using them to communicate with Zeke and the Azumito clan. But he never thought he’d use them personally, and that makes his brain go blank.

“Shit, I think I lost you,” you say, the sound of crumbled papers resonating across the line, “Jean, I think the tele-thing you gave me isn’t working properly. Can you—”

“Hey.” Levi’s voice bleeds into the machine, rough like sandpaper. “I can hear you.”

“Oh, good, I thought I wasn’t using this correctly. Gee, isn’t this just unbelievable? Onyankopon promised me he’d work to set up a phone line in your house, I’m so glad it worked! I know these things are costly but, you know, at least we get to talk, even if it’s brief. Of course, I’ll still write you letters on top of that! And hey—Levi, are you still with me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. You’re the one going on a monologue.”

“I’m just excited! Can you blame me? I haven’t heard your voice in… a long time.”

Levi’s heart jolts in his chest, clinging to the fact that you’re excited to hear him, but mourning the time passed since he last heard your voice. He’s all aware of how long it’s been (347 days, by his account).

“I can’t wait to see you next month,” you add in a lower voice, as if you were trying to whisper into the phone, words only meant for him to hear. “I’ve… missed you, 'Vi.”

Levi’s throat feels thick when he hears your familiar nickname for him. His mind buzzes with words, words he has long thought about, words he wishes he could tell you.

I’ve missed you too. I want to see you again. Please come back to me.

All things he thinks to himself, but doesn’t say out loud.

Instead, he manages a breathy, “Mhm,” because more feels impossible right now, especially with Onkyankopon so close by.

“How are the brats doing?” Levi asks instead.

“Oh, they’re good! Armin cut his hair recently. He looks like a blonde mini-you or err… I suppose he’s taller than you now.” If you were standing by his side, Levi would definitely have glared at you. But you chuckle, oblivious to his souring mood. “Guess he always did admire you a lot; I think he’s learned a thing or two from your leadership style.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, he’s cool. Doesn’t glare at everything that moves like you, though.”

Levi clicks his tongue. “Still haven’t lost your shitty sense of humor, I see.”

“Hey, you always found me funny.”

“I never laughed.”

“But you always found me funny—I could always tell.”

“Delusional thinking can get you a long way.”

“Anyway.” You huff with an indignant tone. “Aside from that, Reiner and Connie have changed a lot too! Reiner is still pining over Historia…”

“Disgusting. She’s a married woman.”

“Yeah… weird, right? I keep telling him to move on, he’s got so much going for him now. But he’s hopeless like that, they all are. Besides that… well, Jean grew his hair! Think he’s secretly trying to impress someone. He’s applying pomade and everything.”

He hears the sound of muffled protest, “I am not, Doc,” blending with your sentence. It is followed by your hearty laugh as you seemingly tell Jean to scram.

“That aside, they’re all good. Growing into real adults, you know? It feels like yesterday I was doing their first medical checks... just stupid teenagers. Your old Levi squad, huh?”

The second Levi squad, he wants to correct.

“Yeah, sounds like they’re still a real handful,” Levi mutters.

You chuckle. A comfortable silence follows, one that reminds of old times—you and him sitting in front of the fireplace; him reading his reports, you drawing. The cracking of the phone lines almost sounds like splitting logs now, and Levi feels warmth spread from his lower belly to his torso.

He hears your breath through the phone, like you were leaning closer. “Hey, so… less than a month, yeah? You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I told you already, didn’t I?”

“Because if it’s too much, you can still say no.”

“Adler, I promised I’d take care of you all, and that’s gonna be the case until I’m buried below ground.”

“Don’t speak like that, Levi! It’s morbid.” Levi hears the sound of your laughter again. He wonders if your eyelids are crinkling, the way they always do when you laugh too loudly. “But, hey, thanks. I really appreciate your help, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder what it is like, your new life.”

“S’nothing special.”

“Sounds to me like you’re still selling yourself short.”

“And sounds like you’re still talking nonsense.”

After a year of not seeing each other, you are finally coming back to Marley.

You are finally coming back to him.

Levi wonders what you will think of all the ways he’s lost.

.

.

.

Section Commander Erwin Smith seeks you out in the infirmary one day. He tells you that there’s a wound he wants you to check, one he supposedly got during the last expedition.

“I have the new recruit’s file with me. You might have seen him around,” Erwin says as you inspect the wound. "His name is Levi."

In lieu of a response, you give him a nod, not thinking much of this observation. This is probably just trivial small talk. 

You should have known better. Erwin Smith isn't known for triviality.  

“I’d like for you to keep an eye on him.”  

You pause at Erwin's words, eyes shifting away from the stitches. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

Erwin leans back in his chair. His gaze is clear. “Presently, Levi is flighty and hot-headed. He’s just lost his friends. He refuses to get a medical check. As it stands, this won’t work—I need to know that his condition is stable to place him on my squad. I need him operational.”

“With all due respect, most of these duties you’ve listed fall outside my medical jurisdiction.”

“I know.”

You raise a brow. Erwin shoots you an eyeless smile. You finish the stitch. Erwin pulls his hand back, admiring your work, and shifts his focus back on you.

Waiting on your answer.

“I’ll... I'll see what I can do, sir,” you finally say. 

Erwin stands, interlinking his arms to the back. “I should tell you he’s from the Underground. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir…" You rise to your feet as well. "Though, knowing this, permission to speak my mind?”

“Please.”

“May I ask what’s so… special about him? If rumors are to be believed, you went through quite the trouble to get him.”

“I didn’t think you listened to gossip, Dr Adler.”

“I don’t. But if that wound on your hand speaks for the labors of your efforts… well, I think I have cause to worry.”

A low hum vibrates out of him. “What’s so special about Levi, you ask?” Something lights up across Erwin’s face. The intensity of the pendulum swinging his way. “Why, I believe Levi can alter the fate of humanity.”

.

.

.

Today is the day.

The morning shines brightly over the little town of Mare, an endless cerulean that speaks of summer and new beginnings. The sun peaks over the horizon, lingering where the sky meets the sea, a ripple of lavender and peach glimmering over the reflection of the water.

At this time of the day, the wind is at its strongest, a breeze that blows the long strands of grass to one side. Beyond the valleys, there's footsteps dotted across white beaches, only to be ushered out of existence as the waves roll in.

Mare. This little town was nothing but fire and dust three years ago. Today, everything has changed. Houses have been rebuilt, trees replanted, and life has begun sprouting again.

Levi wonders what you will make of it.

He spent the first hours of the day cleaning his house from floor to ceiling—a painful undertaking. The cleaning material stings his bad eye; the positions he has to adopt to clean makes his leg hurt. But cleaning has always helped to ground him, and that much hasn’t changed here.

Luckily, he wasn't alone in his task.

“Yo, Levi! You ready?” Onyankopon calls out. The man came early to help Levi get the house ready, and he's now driving Levi to the train station.

“Yeah.”

Levi grabs his favorite cane, an elegant stick made of thick wood from up north. For the occasion, he’s wearing his nicest navy suit, silver cuff-links, and a matching hat—a gift from you, something you bought him the day the Survey Corps first set foot in Marley. You thought it suited him and Levi’s inclined to agree: he doesn’t look half-bad.

The drive to the train station is uneventful and quiet. Onyankopon asks him if he is nervous, which Levi denies. He's not nervous, not really. He just needs silence to gather his thoughts.

After a year of not seeing each other, he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely.

Will you be happy to see him?

It’s ridiculous, really, all this uncertainty. In all his years as a captain, Levi never stopped to linger on hesitations, on regrets. No matter what it was—grief, rough expeditions, political coups—he trusted his comrades, he trusted Erwin. Levi trusted himself.

That it would be you, now of all times, who makes him this agitated, seems a strange twist of fate. Perhaps it is his growing age that has turned him into a sentimental fool, perhaps it is the knowledge that it is you, perhaps it’s because Levi doesn’t quite know what to make of the uncertainty... but Levi feels restless.

It took Levi by surprise, your letter. Three months ago to the day. Can I stay with you, Levi? you'd written. Just for a little while, until I figure out what it is I want to do next.

You were gone for a year, helping the Alliance become delegates of peace. Now, Armin and the rest are ambassadors, and Levi no longer needs you letters—he gets to read all about their exploits in the newspaper.

And yet, you never stopped writing to him. Levi's glad of that.  

Following all of this, it was decided: of course you could stay with him. Yes, he would help you. When it came to you, there was little Levi wasn’t prepared to do.

And so, with Falco’s and Gabi’s help, he made sure everything was well-suited for your arrival. He purchased a bed, a night table, and a wardrobe. He built you a desk, with the help of his boss at work. All of it was arranged into the spare room in his house.

Levi remembers Gabi teasing him. “Is she your sweetheart, Mr Levi?”

Levi had just finished hanging a mirror on the wall when she said this; he scowled at the teenager. “No.”

“S’just, it’s an awful lot for an old comrade.”

“Shut up, nosy kid.”

But Gabi raised a point. What were you to him, exactly?

Levi doesn’t know the answer to that question, not exactly. He considers all the people he’s cared about in his life, and he still falls short in finding the right word to describe what you are. He cares for you, that much he knows—he’s cared for you for a long time. It isn’t the same care that he feels when he thinks of his mother, of Isabel, of Furlan, but it’s just as deep. Love, some might call it, but Levi has seldom witnessed it, so he doesn’t know what to make of his feelings.

He supposes if he had to label what the two of you are, it’s connected. Remnants of an old system, a memory of a past when all that mattered was reclaiming the Walls. Two survivors who carry the legacy of those who sacrificed themselves for the cause.

Not that defining it truly matters. Levi’s long accepted his role as the one to carry the torch. He has found stability and peace this way.

Only, Levi wants more for you, even if it means being far away from him.

Yes, it will have to mean being far from him, won’t it? He’s too lost for it to be any other way. He knows that. And yet, it doesn’t stop that tiny wisp of something he sometimes feels in his heart at the thought of you—like air, it fills his lungs, begging to be ignited (if you would choose him, he thinks it might).

But Levi’s life was always that of water, and he knows he will drown you if you come too close, like everyone else he has cared about.

.

.

.

You glance at the injury on his forearm, gushing red. Those damn cadets, ganging up on the new recruit. Erwin’s gamble won’t pay off if everyone else is hostile to his new prodigy.

“Hey. It’s Levi, right?”

Levi’s gaze flickers to yours and you realize it's the first time you're up close to him. His eyes are striking. Freezing gray, like pale moonlight.

“Who the hell are you?” he mutters with a deep baritone.

You give him your full name. “But I actually prefer to be called by my last name, Adler, if you don't mind.” His face stays blank. You sigh. “Listen, Levi, I don’t want to butt into your private affairs... But I just came to tell you this: any injuries you sustain from now on, come to me directly, alright?”

"Please. Those cowards were outclassed. They only landed a hit 'cause they played dirty."

"Even so. Don't let that deter you from seeking help; it's important to take care of injuries before they worsen." A pause, one where you weigh each thought carefully. "That said, you also have my word. Those cadets will be punished for what they did to you."

“Yeah, whatever.” Levi glances at your hands for some reason— transfixed by the way you press on his wound with a clean cloth. “So, what are you, some kind of doctor? You heal people?”

Your lips tug into a half-smile. “I certainly try.”

.

.

.

The train groans as it comes to a stop. Levi knows you dislike trains; even on Paradis, when Hizuru helped to install train tracks across the island, you  blanched at the idea of riding in one.

So Levi isn’t too surprised to see you step out of the train carriage on wobbly feet, your face a little grayer than he remembers it to be. He takes a step forward, walking into the smoke hissing from the train, avoiding the throngs of travelers passing by. He removes his hat, just to make it easier for you to recognize him.

As soon as you do, your expression lifts.

That smile.

Levi could see your smile for the rest of his life and never tire of it. He hasn’t seen it in a long time, and it tugs at his heart, like a bird flapping its wings.

That you choose to run towards him—your travel bag swinging against your hip, arms dangling by your sides—is no great surprise. If there is something he knows about you, it is your never ending supply of excitement. It makes him want to smile back, but his mouth slightly parts instead.

“Levi,” is the first word that greets him, that swirls through the air and fills his lungs. You seem to catch yourself just a breath away from him, rooted to the spot in front of him. You dip your head down, coy amusement on your features. “It’s really you.”

Levi swallows loudly. He can hear his heartbeat climbing to his head, and he wonders if you somehow can hear it too.

“Your hair has grown,” you say. In the last month, Levi's only kept up his undercut; the top is getting longer now. He knows he should get a haircut, but he's experimenting letting it grow. “It looks good… it suits you.”

The coil in Levi’s stomach tightens. He shields his expression by tilting his head and placing his hat back on his head. 

“Hey, um…” 

“Just spit it out, Adler.”

His peripheral catches a crooked smile. “Would it be alright if…if I hugged you?”

Oh.

That certainly isn’t what Levi expected you to ask. No, he expected many things just not... that.

In his stupor, Levi can't think of the right words to say to you, so he manages a nod instead.

(He’s grateful you ask before you touch him—you always ask.)

And unlike your earlier display of excitement, full of frenetic energy, your hands treat him with more care. They interlace gently around his back. Levi feels his chest lock as your fragrance sweeps across his brain. The scent can only be described as one thing... Home. Levi grows stiff, not knowing what to do with his hands, so he just lets them dangle along his body. You stay put just for a few seconds longer, and when you break apart, there’s something akin to relief on your face.

(Relief for what, he doesn't know.)

Your hands briefly linger on his forearms. “Just needed to do that. My brain can’t make sense of the fact that you’re really standing in front of me. Like you’re not a figment of my imagination, you know?”

Levi’s gut reaction is to glance down. He doesn’t want to see all the ways you inspect him, all the ways he falls short of the portrait you have of him.

His face hardens and he takes a step back, sheltering himself. “C’mon, we’ve been standing here long enough.”

“Alright,” you answer in a tone that’s no less bubbly than before. “Show me home.”

As you walk in tandem, away from the train tracks, Onyankopon comes to greet you. He envelops you into a hug where he lifts you off your feet. You chuckle, patting his shoulders, and when Onyankopon’s eyes find Levi’s, there’s a glint in them that Levi swears is speaking volumes of Onyankopon’s thoughts.

A look that seems to indicate: Should’ve kissed her, you damn fool.

Levi promptly ignores that look. Instead, he sets his glare in an altogether different direction.

The walk back towards the car is painful and slow. Levi tries not to let it show, but coming with his cane instead of his wheelchair really was not his brightest idea. He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation shooting up in his leg; his knuckles turn white the more he leans on his cane.

You take notice.

“Is your leg hurting?” he hears you ask.

Levi dismisses your concern with a one shoulder shrug. “S’fine.”

It’s not fine. Levi overexerted himself with cleaning today. The sun is too strong. His leg is throbbing.

Despite that, Levi has no intentions of telling you all about that, because you have a tendency to care, to shower him with attention he doesn’t want, and right now, he just can’t deal with it.

You stop right in front of him. “Hey, are you sure? I can—”

“I said it's fine, didn't I?”

Levi's ears are ringing as he steps past you.

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t mean to snap at you just now. He’s just no good at this, don’t you see? Already five minutes in, and he feels like he fucked up.

(It's like there's poison on his skin; Levi wants to peel it off.)

But you don’t even seem to pay his temper any mind; you hum and turn to look at the train station’s newsstand instead. From the corner of his eyes, he watches you purchase three lemonade bottles, a hand-out for this summer day. 

The drive back is filled with more words than the journey here. Onyankopon and you engage in easy conversation, talking about all manners of things—how the 104th brats are doing, how the world is looking three years after everything that transpired, how Onyankopon’s husband and family are faring.

Levi sits in the passenger seat next to Onyankopon while you sit in the rear. That doesn’t stop you from leaning forward, your hands resting on the head of the seats as you talk (“Put your seat belt on, Adler.” “It’s on!”). Occasionally, your fingers even tap his left shoulder, a heads up for you to point to interesting things you notice outside. Levi tries to ignore the sparking sensation that’s engraved in his skin.

(Sometimes, Levi wonders if your touch is actually electric.)

“What about you, Levi?” Levi feels your attention settle on the back of his head, drilling heat into his nape. “What do you make of your new home? Mare, the town where the sky meets the sea.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. And he means it—the town is just that. Fine. “The townsfolk are nosy, you’ll fit right in.”

“Consider my interest piqued. I can’t wait to see your new life.” You hum. “I’ve never started over. Not like this. I mean, I suppose I did, once. The last time was when I first enlisted for the Survey Corps a decade ago… phew, that brings back memories. I remember the looks I got from everyone then—they all thought me very strange to enroll.”

“That’s because you were a suicidal maniac, enrolling to save the lives of soldiers who’d soon be titan fodder. Normal civilians usually have safer aspirations, Adler.”

“I’m not sure if you’re one to talk, Ackerman.”

Levi huffs at that. The portrait that flashes through his mind is vivid, as were the words that went alongside them: Him, an ex-thug from the Underground and you, the crazy doctor. A pair of strange misfits, the Survey Corps' gamble in every sense of the word.

“Oh, Walls!” You’re gasping at something behind him, and Levi glances up to see what you’ve seen. It’s the sea—all shades of blue and as mesmerizing as ever. “This is where you’ve been living? Your descriptions in your letters do not do this place justice.”

“What? You expected me to turn into a poet?” Levi grumbles.

“No, but look at this—ugh! It’s everything. The valleys! The beaches! The bay! This feels just like…” you let your voice trail off, not finishing off your words, but Levi knows what you meant to say.

This feels just like the way it was when we first saw the sea.

And yeah, Levi sees your point. The sea here truly does glimmer like jewels, the way Armin always described it, and the breeze does carry that scent of salt that feels like it’s cleaning the air out of his lungs.

Just like it felt to witness it the first time.

“This must be what paradise looks like,” you say.

And just as they pass a curve of the road, something new comes into view: between the soft clouds, a flying boat appears—not one carrying weapons, but instead, carrying with it the tale of a youth whose only sin was a passion for flying.

.

.

.

The medical check is done in silence.

Levi is underweight. His lack of sun exposure has left his skin and eyesight sensitive. You prescribe things to help, though you think some ailments might be a lifelong battle.

When it comes to checking his heart rate, however, that’s when you realize the full extent of Levi’s upbringing. Levi undoes his shirt and your eyes take in the cost of his survival—Levi’s torso, marred with scars. Some of them seem recent, while others are old, stretched-out skin that tells you enough.

These come straight from his childhood.

Just how much violence has Levi witnessed in a single lifetime?

.

.

.

“So?” Levi asks, looking directly at you. He leans his weight against the door’s frame leading to your bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can redecorate if you like.”

“Why would I do that? This is perfect.”

Levi thinks you might be touched, but he isn’t sure—he was never good at reading your more subdued emotions. Anger, sadness, happiness: those, he can read. Everything in between becomes more complicated.

You continue to step around the furniture of your bedroom, inspecting it like you are discovering details of a new kingdom. Your fingers fumble over the bed frame. “These bed sheets are my favorite color.”

Levi knows. He picked them for a reason.

(He’ll never tell you as much.)

“There’s drawing supplies in the desk drawers,” he says.

He hears it then, the way you suck-in your breath, catching it in the back of your throat. He swerves his attention onto you, only to find you fixing the desk with a stupefied expression.

“You remembered?”

There’s bewilderment in your tone.

Why do you seem surprised? Isn’t this the least you deserve? Levi almost says that there is even more—that he has all your sketchbooks from Paradis, that they were recently delivered by his request. But he abstains from it. He thinks it might be too much right now, though whether it’s too much for him or for you, he’s not sure.

Instead, he just replies gruffly, “It was hard to forget.”

You take a step towards him, eyes softening. “Levi, thank you so much.” You gesture at the room. “For all of it.”

Somehow, those words make Levi want to look away. It isn’t that he doesn’t appreciate you expressing your gratitude, but he’s never known what to do with it served on a silver platter. He prefers to ignore it when he can.

“S’not a big deal.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, glancing towards the carpet on the floor. “Couldn’t let you starve on the streets, now, could I?”

“Hah, I don’t know,” you say softly. You've moved to the windows, your fingers feeling the beige curtains. “You might be underestimating me. I can be very persuasive; I’m sure I’d manage to survive out there.”

“Please. You wouldn’t last a day out there.”

You scoff at him, feigning offense. “And why not?”

“You’d want to help some poor fucker giving you puppy eyes, and they’d just end up mugging you.” Or worse.

“Well, alright. You got me there.” You glance away, raising your fingers to run along the scar on your cheek.

Levi follows your movements, studying the way your hands conceal your old injury. He wonders if it still hurts, if you forget it is there only to be reminded of its existence when you catch your reflection in the mirror.

It happens to him, sometimes.

“Seriously, thank you.”

The gentleness in your tone cradles his ears. Levi takes a step back.

“No need to get emotional on me.” he mumbles.

You chuckle. “Still. Sometimes, it’s good to say things out loud.”

“If you say so.”

Levi turns around, fumbling with the handle of the door. 

But just as he’s about to head out, to leave you to unpack, there's a distinct sound that comes from the other side. Levi hears that familiar "Meow," before he sees the tabby cat sliding in between the cracks of the door.

“Oh..." you say, "what's this?” 

Right. Levi probably should have mentioned this minor detail in his letters.

“Scout,” he supplies, eying the kitten currently rubbing her head against his right leg, a loud prrr vibrating against his calve.

“You… you got a cat?”

"Yeah."

"Like a pet?"

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, tapping a rhythmic beat of five counts against his forearm. “Do you need to get your eyes checked or what?”

You ignore his surly attitude, the same bafflement still present in your tone. “And you named him Scout?”

“Her. She's a female cat.”

You look down at the cat for a moment, your eyes wide like saucers. Then, with a low, hushed tone, you let out a strangled, “Walls, you're a cat dad,” before pinching your lips tightly, like you were trying very hard not to burst out in fits of giggles.

Levi’s jaw instantly clenches. “Stop laughing.”

“I wasn’t laughing!”

“You were about to.”

“Yeah, alright, I was about to.” And then, as if saying those words out loud gave you the right to do as you please, you stifle out a snort, shooting up a hand to cover your half-contained laughter.

This time, Levi doesn’t bother hiding his glare.

Paying this interaction no mind, Scout looks at you with a quizzical stare, her big, green eyes taking you in. Just like you, the feline creature is now discovering the new room and the furniture that goes with it, and she now seems to want to understand what to make of the new occupant that is to share this space.

And so, with a last parting mrrp, the cat skitters towards you, her fast steps tiptoeing against the oaken floor. In response, you crouch down, outstretching a delicate hand in Scout's direction.

With a combination of grace and suspicion that only cats are really able to muster, Scout sniffs your fingers, her slit pupils observing your every movement. Whatever she was looking for must have pleased her, because not a moment later, she lets out a high-pitched mewling sound and rubs her cheeks against your digit.

A smile forms on your lips.

And when you look back up, there’s a sparkle in your eyes that makes Levi’s heart skip a beat. "Oh, she's cute," you coo, scratching Scout's chin. "How old is she?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't ask?"

"I don't speak cat, Adler."

"She didn't have an owner?"

"No, she was alone when I found her."

"Oh."

Levi had found the kitten half-dead under some debris less than three months ago; no one in town knew where she had come from, or how old she was. Most likely, her mother had abandoned her, but it was hard to know for sure.

All he knew is that the kitten had been alone, and that was enough for him to want to help the frail thing. Taking her in was only meant to be a temporary thing and yet, here she still was. 

"Well," you interrupt his thoughts, head tilting as you inspect Scout, "I reckon she can't be more than four months old."

Levi lets out a grunting sound, not really knowing enough about cats to refute or agree with your observations. Instead, he half-turns away, grumbling parting words, “I’m gonna make us some tea while you unpack.”

“Your bitter old tea, huh?”

He means to ask if you’d prefer something else, but it comes out all wrong, again. “Got a problem with that?”

Shit.

Your eyes lock with his.

And your smile widens. “Not at all. This feels like being home.”

Levi clears his throat, turning away. Home. Is it really like that?

No, of course, it’s not.

Home doesn’t exist anymore.

And he’s not the same man you once knew.

-

A/N: This story has been in the works for the last year, and it's been a very precious project for me. This fic seeks to shed some light on Levi's life after the war, with its ups and down - but ultimately, it's a story of love and healing <3 Furthermore, English isn't my mother tongue, so you know the spiel - don't hesitate to let me know if you spot mistakes, but pls be patient!

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[leviackermanssjewishwife]

Postwar! Levi is so incredibly excited when you’re pregnant, it overwhelms him. It makes his heart hurt. It makes his stomach turn every time he thinks of it.

He’s had strong emotions before of course, he’s had his stomach turn with an anxiety, he’s had his heart hurt with sadness, he’s anticipated things good and bad, but he’s never felt excitement, let alone to this extent.

Seeing the round of your stomach slowly grow over the months makes tears well in his eyes. They well in his eyes at the fact that he finally created life instead of destroying.

But he still can’t help but feel a little proud when he feels your guys child kicking in your stomach, knowing that his child will be strong, that they will inherit a least a little bit of their father’s strength.

But he is so excited when he is setting up the nursery with room, even if building the crib irritates his leg. He loves placing his hand on the small of your back as you paint some small birds on the nursery walls. He loves organizing and cleaning everything so perfectly that it has an unnatural shine.

He is so excited that it makes him nervous during his final day of your pregnancy. He loves seeing how big your stomach has gotten, he loves packing the hospital bag with you, he loves the final moments of his child moving inside of you.

(Though he isn’t excited about the actual labor, he’s quite nervous actually.)

But when his little baby girl is placed in his arms, all that excitement melts away into realization.

He’s a father. He helped bring life into this world. He now has someone that depends on him. He has a little baby that loves him unconditionally. He has someone that sees him as completely clean and pure.

He has a child.

“Hello little Kuchel.” He says softly to the sleeping child, the excitement creeping back into his gut.

Tags: @lucysarah-c @humanitys-strongest-bamf @levi-ackerman-ds @shayewrites + any other mutuals

Join my taglist.

[sixpennydame]

Summer Promises

A one-shot for the Levi Ackerman x Fem!OC series, North Star

Read on AO3

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: fluff; post-Rumbling world; postwar!Levi feeling the healing power of nature

Author's note: While this one-shot is part of the North Star world, it can still be enjoyed without having read the series.

But the story is best enjoyed while sitting under the trees.

Levi can’t recall ever enjoying summers in Paradis. It had always been unbearably hot and humid; every shred of his uniform sticking to his body making it difficult to move. Not to mention that summer was the busiest time of year for expeditions. Riding for hours in the heat, the only time he felt a cool breeze was when he was flying through the air on ODM gear. The sound of nearby thunder from a summer storm would mingle with the footsteps of titans, and the flowers that dotted the forest ground were often splattered with the blood of his comrades. 

No, he had no good memories of summer. 

He’d arrived in Mursa at the peak of the season and with no knowledge of mountain summers.  But the moment he’d moved into your home he saw how much you treasured it: the fresh flowers neatly displayed on the breakfast table every morning, and the basket of vegetables from the garden under your arm. You opened every window in the house to let a crosswind cool the rooms, the gossamer fabric of the curtain blowing in the wind. 

He started his walk to his job at the stables in the early dawn hours, when the sun had not yet burned off the heavy dew collecting on each leaf and flower, the birds just beginning their songs. He noticed that the air was cool and crisp in the mornings and evenings here, and you’d given him a jacket when you’d seen him bristle at the chill. 

You - 

If people could be seasons then he’d decided you were summer. You were bright and warm, and had a bustling energy about you. He could hear you humming in your garden when you were pulling weeds, humming when you put laundry on the line to dry. Always humming, always singing…

…he didn’t mind it. 

“Come ride with me,” you said one day while visiting the stables. You were brushing your horse, Astrid, and she seemed to snort in approval. “You were saying you need to ride Demon more anyway, right?”

It’s true, he needed to get the stallion out and stretch its legs. 

“Ok, but just for a quick ride. I need to get back and do the rest of today’s chores,” he answered. 

“Pfft, you’ve done most of them already, the rest can wait. Besides, it’s summer!”

(This was something you often said, he’d realized -  when you wanted to sleep in a little longer on the weekends, when you’d eat an extra helping of strawberries with cream, when you’d stay up too late reading a book - as if summer was some magical pass to do things you don’t normally do.)

“He’s fine to leave for a few hours, right Mathieu?”

The old man smiles, the deep wrinkles around his mouth deepening. “Levi works so efficiently, I barely have anything left for him to do today.” He grabs a saddle and gives it to Levi. “Go, enjoy the summer’s day.”

Once both horses are saddled, you and he ride out of the stables and into the meadow. 

“Where to?” he asks, having a feeling you’ve got something in mind. 

“We’re gonna ride up into those mountains a bit.” You point to a mountain range just to the west of the stables. “I have a place to show you that I think you’re gonna love.”

You look at him with a gleam in your eye. “Wanna race to the foot of the mountain?”

He liked this competitive side of you. “You know Demon and I will beat you.”

“Not if I get a head start!” 

A gentle prod to Astrid’s and you’re off in a flash. Levi smirks and pets the side of Demon’s neck.

“Time to show off a little, eh?” Levi clicks his tongue and taps Demon’s sides, just as they’d practiced over the past week. The black stallion snorts, stomping the ground before he starts his cantor. It doesn’t take long before they’re neck-in-neck with you, but he says a command and Demon goes even faster. By the time you and Astrid reach the foot of the mountain, the other two are relaxed, Demon nibbling on some blades of grass.

“What was that about beating me?” Levi smirks.

You roll your eyes before moving past him, starting up a narrow trail that leads into the trees. He follows behind, welcoming the cool shade as you ride further up. There’s a rustling in the bushes and Levi whips his head toward the sound, suddenly on alert. A deer’s head rises, seemingly unbothered by their presence.

Levi sighs. Even after all these years, it’s hard not to think that any movement in a forest is a possible threat. He keeps his eyes on your back as you ascend, the trail too narrow for you to ride side by side. But it’s a well worn trail, Levi notices; whether it was you or someone else that created it, it’s been used often. You don’t speak a word the entire trek until suddenly the ground evens out and you stop.

“Here we are,” you declare in a sing-song voice, “my little hideaway.”

The dense foliage of the pine and elm trees has given way to a small clearing dotted with white and blue flowers, their petals open towards the sun as if greeting its warmth. It was almost perfectly circular, like it was cleared of trees and specifically made. 

“Martin and I would come here when we were kids.” You step into the clearing. “We thought fairies made this place - it’s always felt so magical.”

“Fairies?”

“Magical beings that live in the forest.” Levi looks at you, perplexed. “There aren’t forest spirits where you’re from?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But there were plenty of things that wanted to kill us,” he replies. 

“Fairies can be mischievous, but they’re usually kind and benevolent. Especially if you give them a gift.”

You take out a peach and a small bottle from your saddle bag and place it under a large tree next to the clearing. “They particularly like wine and fruit.”

“Who doesn’t,” Levi says, slightly to mock but he must admit, his interest has peaked. “Now what happens? Do they jump out of the trees or something?”

 “No! That’s silly,” you answer. Your eyes shine as you take his arm and pull him into the center of the clearing. “I know you don’t believe in any of this stuff, but..”

You sit down, pulling him down with you. “...you’ll see, there’s something special about this place.” 

Before Levi can respond, you’re lying down in the grass, your face towards the sky, just like the flowers around you. “Just lay down. Close your eyes. Listen.”

There’s something about the calm and confident way you voice those three commands, and the next thing he knows, he’s lying beside you, his arms crossed against his chest.

One final sigh of resignation, and he closes his eyes. He waits a few seconds, wondering if something will happen, and laughing at himself internally for even entertaining these kinds of foolish thoughts. 

But then his breathing steadies, and he notices that it’s in rhythm with the breeze blowing through the trees around him: an in and out, as if the trees are also breathing. 

He feels a tiny insect - probably an ant - walking across his hand, the tall grass brushing against his body.

He smells the scent of pine in the air, sweet and woody.

He hears the bird song around him - the same melody he hears every day, but now, he notices every note. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

There’s another sound - a voice in the air, but it’s not yours. 

“Rest..” it says..

…

…

Levi opens his eyes to the sound of you humming in the distance. He sits up, blinking a few times to adjust to the changing lighting.

“You felt it, didn’t you?”

You’re picking some flowers next to a tree, twisting their stems into a flower crown.

He rubs the back of his neck before standing up and wipes off the grass from his pants. “How long was I out?”

“Oh, for about an hour. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.” 

Levi walks over to the tree you’re sitting under and leans against the trunk. You look up and smile at him.

“The fairies tend to give us what we need most. Apparently, you needed rest.”

Levi does a mental scan of his body. He does feel rested, more than he has in a long time. His muscles are relaxed, and even his knee isn’t aching as much. He’s never been a superstitious person - he believes what his eyes and other senses tell him - but he has to admit, there is something special about this place.

He wants to ask you what you were given during your time in the clearing, and what you need most. And why you brought him, of all people,here.

Instead, he looks away, his face apathetic. “Yeah, well, an afternoon nap is never a bad idea.” He glances down to see you smiling at him. “What?” he asks defensively.

You smile so sweetly at him, he feels a slight heat to his cheeks. 

“Oh…nothing…nothing,” you reply, standing up as you hold the flower crown. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you…come here again with me some time?’

He can feel the blush growing across his face now and he turns away, walking towards Demon, who’s grazing nearby. “Sure.”

“Promise?”

He looks back at you to see that you’ve now put the crown upon your head. The breeze blows some of your hair across your face, and he almost reaches out to push the strands behind your ear, but you beat him to it. Of all people, why would you want to spend time with him? You'd only just met him a little over a month ago. And what is it about you that makes him want to say yes to whatever you ask?

He can’t explain what it is about this place that makes it feel so special. Maybe it’s some natural phenomenon, maybe it is fairies.

Or maybe it’s just you.

He reaches out and straightens the crown on your head.

“I promise.”

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[leviraaaaaa]

Cold outside.

“Levi, whatcha making?”

“Mm.”

-

It was a question you asked him everyday. Everyday when you caught him back in the couch with his crochet tools, his hands moving as he looped the hook one after another. And it was a question he ignored everyday.

But you watched eagerly. Even without two fingers, how he managed to keep working so effortlessly and flawlessly was mind-blowing to you, because the last time you attempted it, you ended up with only a huge mess of yarn. Yet, he did it as easily as if he’d been doing it for years.

After the war ended, the two of you found yourself with these huge stretched periods of free time that none of you know what to do with. It was specially harder for him, living his whole life constantly working, never taking a second to relax. Work is all he ever knew. Now that it was all over, he was overwhelmed how absurdly long days are. Not that he actually minded, he absolutely loved having more hours to spend with you. But it was the feeling of uselessness that took over him. With his physical state, there wasn’t a lot of physical activities he could do to keep himself busy either.

That’s when you started experimenting. You started trying out things with him, cooking, reading, sewing (He was good at all of them) but surprisingly it was crochet that stuck with him. (Despite his initial protests that it was for old people and how it doesn’t suit him.) So, since then, you often found him sitting on the couch, fiddling with his yarn and hooks and whatsonot. He’s even made a lot of little household things and so, though he gets embarrassed whenever he sees you actually using them. You adored them though, they were beautiful.

It was only recently he started working on a certain something. Something he refused to tell you or even let you see it. And curiosity ate you up from inside, (Because what could it possibly be that he has to hide from you?), but you always gave up after trying for a few minutes, because first of all, the man was absolutely stubborn and pestering Levi usually never ended well.

But you asked the question everyday.

“Are you ever gonna tell me what you’re making?”

“Maybe. If you stop bugging me.”

“Is it for me?’’ You asked, grinning. “Is that why you���re shy?”

He never answered, only shifted his work a little more out of your sight.

You still watched him though. How could you not? It was such an elegant sight, the way he has his eyes all narrowed in concentration, fingers working carefully. Sometimes, he does this thing where he bites down on his lip, and you don’t think he even realizes that, but holy shit, did it get you feeling all gooey.

But then again,everything Levi Ackerman does has you feeling that way.

-

“What’s taking you so long?” You called out, rubbing your hands together. It was the end of December, it only started snowing since last weekend. To say the weather was freezing would be an understatement, Levi practically had to drag you out of the covers every morning. And even now, all bundled up in jackets and sweaters and gloves and socks, you could still feel the cold poking your skin. You puffed out little foggy breaths, watching them as they faded away.

“You’re shivering, idiot.”

Hand clasped on your shoulder, turning you around. Before you even got to blink, Levi was wrapping something warm around your neck clumsily.

"It's cold outside." He muttered under his breath as an explanation.

You let out a sigh of relief almost immediately, soaking in the bundle of heat. It was so soft, fluffy, warm and…

A scarf?

Your hands reached out to feel it, and it was as you thought.

You looked up and Levi was already turning away, grabbing your hand and tugging you forward.

“Wait!” You stopped him, pulling back your hands.

“What? Weren’t you the one eager to go for a walk?” He turned around, looking at you, confused.

“But..” You trailed off, looking down at the white wool, fingers still feeling the softness. “Did you..did you make this Levi?”

Levi was silent for a few seconds, then gave the slightest nod, his eyes on the ground.

Your jaw dropped.

“No way.”

“...do you not like it?” He glanced up, voice timid. Almost as if he’s scared you’ll say no.

You stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you kidding?” You blinked, you were feeling so many things, you couldn’t even begin to sort them out. “Levi..that’s what you’ve been doing? This is for me?”

“You’re the one wearing it, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, choking on your emotions. Levi showing affection such way was so rare, but when he really did, they were always things you never even thought of. When he did something, he always gave his most.

You brought up one hand to wipe the little tears that formed on your eyes. “Oh wow, I’m crying.” You let out a little laugh. “I might start bawling,.”

“What the–” He frowned, reaching out to you but hand pausing midair, unsure what to do. “I’m…sorry?”

“Oh, Levi, it’s not that.” You let out a half snort. This absolute clueless idiot.

“Well, you’re acting weird. Did you like it or not?”

“I..” You inhaled. “Levi, you fool. I love it.”

And Levi exhaled, his shoulders finally relaxing. “That’s..” He mumbled, glancing at you. “That’s good then.”

And you stared at him for a few seconds, relief washed over his features. His cold gray eyes holding a warmth that was only ever reserved for you. The tips of his ear and nose were red, as it always was when he was flustered or embarrassed. There were flakes of snow on his hair, the night breeze blowing his bangs away from his face, ruining what was always so carefully combed.

He looked like an angel. Something ethereal sent from the heavens above.

It was so surreal, you had to pinch yourself.

“Ow.” You mumbled.

He was quick to grab your hand. “Now, what the hell was that for?” He demanded.

“Huh?” You looked up, still in a daze. “Just..” And your face broke into a stupid, stupid smile. You suddenly felt so unbelievably gleeful. “Just really happy.”

He wasn’t sure what one had to do with the other, but he stared at you. Unpredictable, always so. But it was so easy to make you happy. It makes him feel sometimes as though he doesn't deserve this.

Even after so many years of being with you, your smile had never failed to tug his heart. And suddenly, he felt like that young teenager he was when he first met you, when he couldn’t even greet you casually without stuttering over his words. Just as flustered, just as stupid, just as shy.

Next thing you know, he was pulling you by the very scarf, leaning down to press his lips against yours, trying to tell you all the things he never really had the courage to say out loud. That he was so grateful. And he wants to say thank you, thank you for staying alive, for not leaving, for giving him a chance, for always sticking with him, for giving him a taste of what living feels like.

And he's telling you I love you over and over, he hopes this is enough. Enough for you to convey how his heart feels because his tongue geys tied up everytime he tries. He wishes he could burn the words against your lips. Because he's always so scared that you might never really understand how grateful he is and how important you are.

"I love you."

You pulled away to breathe, stumbling out the words, exhaling out a cloud of fog. You looked up, wide eyes reassuring him you know. Reassuring him that It's okay if he never really says it, but you know.

“I love this and I love you.”

Levi gulped and nodded, hoping to let you know that he felt the same. Except he was a coward and you were not.

It was enough for you though. You shot a bright grin, cheeks all red. Giddily, you grabbed his hand, pulling him along.

“Easy.” He said. “You’ll slip.”

You hummed, waving away his words. “I’m never taking it off by the way.”

“Yeah sure.”

"I'm gonna become like Mikasa."

He snorted slightly. "Uh-huh."

“I’m serious. And I’m going to show it off to everyone.”

“Right.”

And then you blabbered some more nonsense things that he couldn’t really focus on as he was more busy watching you and the way your eyes shone.

“I love you,” He whispered quietly to himself.

Maybe one day, he’ll finally be able to say that out loud.