#srwrites

[caesarwrites]

Historia & Levi

Student/Professor AU

(Oof. Bonjour.)

Yes. Hello. I’d like to be punished.

Historia doesn’t say the words aloud - she’s not an idiot, after all - but she thinks them as she feels the steely gaze of her Classical Literature Professor practically pinning her to her chair. Her pen scratches away at her notepad, careful to catch every detail of his lecture.

Not that there’s ever any chance of her being punished - she’s the star student of the entire course; she’s never had so much as a stern word from any of her professors. Everyone loves her.

She doesn’t care about everyone. She only cares about him. Confident that she’s got down what she needs to at this point - and she’s read ahead on today’s topic anyway - she allows herself a brief moment to look up at him.

Ugh. He’s so hot. Why can’t her friends see him in the same light she does? Sure, he’s a little short, but ... her eyes linger on his toned forearms, shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows, and she bites her bottom lip. His dark hair falls across his brow as he gestures to the whiteboard. She finds herself chewing absently on her pen lid, mind wandering.

She’s seen him get pissed at some of the less mature guys in class - namely Connie and Eren - and for the first time in her life, Historia has actually wanted to be on the receiving end of someone’s harsh words. The tip of her pen rolls around her mouth as she wonders what she’d have to do to make him angry at her.

Someone kicks her chair leg from behind - Mikasa probably - and she snaps out of her daydream to find Professor Ackerman glaring right at her. He’s no longer pointing at the whiteboard.

Oops.

She offers him a sheepish smile. Maybe she doesn’t want to be punished after all. Well, not here, like this.

————

Levi carries on about the play he named as assigned reading for his Classical Literature course - The Bacchae.

A story of the Greek god Dionysus inducing Greek citizens into lust-driven crazes and episodes of insanity in an effort to seek pleasure. He knows this play well, and he intended to instill his students with the same passion for this particular play that he has for it. It’s an odd play, but unique.

Except that one of his students begins to daydream.

Historia Reiss.

One of his star students - arguably his best student. Top grades, never turns in a late assignment, and is keen to please. And to top it all off, she’s fucking gorgeous. It’s quite unfair, really, for the subject of his many fantasies late at night to be placed in his course, in the second row with her damn pen in her mouth. His grip on a marker tightens as he pauses mid-sentence as he explains the origins of Dionysus and the manner in which the Greeks saw the eccentric deity.

“Miss Reiss,” he growls, and her eyes snap to his.

Those damn bright eyes. Her fucking pen is still between her lips.

“Would you care to explain what it is you’re daydreaming about? I had a waitlist for this course, and I’m sure the students who weren’t able to join would gladly be paying attention instead of lolling off like you are.”

@sr-writes

[breakingthroughthenight]

Overthinkers

Don’t pretend to love an overthinker. Don’t make them believe you love them. They’ll fall in love with the smallest things about you, the color of your eyes and the way your smile forms. They’ll spend days analyzing your facial expressions when you speak, and nights deciphering what the period placement in your messages meant. They’ll agonize for hours over why you didn’t say hello to them at breakfast, and start to create unrealistic scenarios in their head that you decided you no longer liked them. Don’t get close to that person; don’t make them believe you love them, because otherwise they’ll suffocate you with their care and affection. They’ll always want to ask you if you’re Okay and constantly say that they Love You just to hear you say it back to them. And they’ll cry, Oh Dear Lord, will they cry. They’ll cry over the way you looked at that other person, or the way your eyes stopped lighting up at the sound of their name. They’ll cry when you start hugging them like it’s your job and talking to them like it’s a habit. They’ll even over think the fact that maybe they’re just over thinking. That you do love them that all these worry might actually just be in their own head. So then when you do leave, they’ll still be awake late at nights, months from then replaying the memories over and over in their head like a jukebox saying “Where Did I Go Wrong.?” Or “What Did I Do This Time? “Do not pretend to love an over thinker and do not make them believe you love them. Do not do it unless you plan on loving them for a life time, because it will stay with them forever.

[garnetwrites]

sr-writes​:

A Birthday to Remember

Levi & Historia

Fritz Manor House, Orvud District.

January 15th, 854.

@garnetwrites - hope this works!

Levi

The place was crawling with people. Levi wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a room so packed. And it was a big room, too; lavishly decorated, with a dancefloor and what appeared to be half a damn orchestra seated beside it. The Fritz Manor House had been deemed the perfect setting for such a party as this, residing in the district where the Queen took back her kingdom over 4 years ago now.

♕ —-; A day of celebration – the young queen was now of age, a woman by society’s standards. Warm laughs filled the room as all the stringed instruments played softly from the stage. The glass chandeliers glistened above, illuminating the ballroom entirely, creating the warm atmosphere among those socializing. Everyone seemed happy, mingling in groups, dancing across the marble floors. It was odd, witnessing an entire room of people singing songs of joy instead of lamentation. Usually, when she was in a room filled with people it was during funerals for their fallen soldiers. It was haunting, putting it in that perspective.

 A burgundy polyester dress complimented her figure, perfectly hugging along her curves and breasts. The crochet lace long sleeves and trimming along the V neckline created the illusion that the dress was demure in its design. But, trailing along behind her shoulders showed the back of her skin, the lace banded just at below the top of her neck. Its full length skirt was romantic and was not exaggerated in anyway. She wanted a flexible dress in case she had to run. That natural sense of fight or flight has never left her, even after all these years playing aristocrat instead of soldier.

So when Historia cut a slit to the left side of her dress, rising up her right thigh in order to alleviate her restrictions, the handmaiden’s didn’t understand why. With her hair perfectly pinned in place and out of her eyes, the trumpets sounded upon her arrival, and she had to stare into the eyes of dozens of strangers; some carrying the apple of envy and pride within them. As she marched down the red carpeted steps, she frantically tried to search for a familiar face, specifically her former Captain.

Everyone had plans for her during this event; some of the politicians from the round table wanted her to meet a bunch of older men and pick suitor. But, Historia had plans of her own for even entertaining this party of lies. She knew that he would have to come, even if he hated these kinds of parties with every inch of his soul. This fluttered a burning excitement in her chest all day. However, as her eyes scanned the entire room, she didn’t spot anything that resembled Levi.

After the cheering charade, the party carried on. The queen stood at the bottom of the staircase, watching everyone supposedly celebrate her birthday; alone with a frown. Her heart grew heavy as disappointment started to set in. The only reason she greatly anticipated this stupid party was only because she had a few gifts for the Captain; one from her and the others were from the children at the Orphanage.  She planned ahead of time, but she was never able to meet up with him due to their conflicting schedules– this was going to be her only chance.

Gingerly, she closed her eyes, remembering how dedicated the children worked to make their cards for the hero they warmly admired. She couldn’t let their efforts go to waste. Historia whispered to Nile that she was feeling nauseous and crampy – and Nile wanted nothing to do with the details of that as every man did when it came to the time of the month; which helped in her favor because the guy pried like the entire world was his business.  Historia kept the façade up until she closed her room doors. A deep breath was inhaled before she looked at her room and tried to plan everything with great haste.

Without wasting a moment, she changed out of that uncomfortable tight dress and heels and threw on a white long sleeve button up, her casual long pink skirt and black stockings. A heavy irritated sigh escaped her once she realized she left her coat in the dressing room, and it was early December. Historia braced worse conditions during boot camp – she used as some odd form of justification to carry on with the plan; finding Levi. She knew he had to be here somewhere – and she was going to check the stables first.

 Carefully, she placed the drawings and the small box in her brown satchel before creeping down the stairs from another door. Silent was of her steps before she turned right into a hallway, heading to the one place no one would ever linger during a grand party – the library.  Carefully, she peeked her head through the double mahogany doors, listening carefully to see if anyone was inside. Once she knew it was clear, the worry bubbling in her chest faded and she felt more at ease. She ran straight without wasting any time and swung open the towering windows by pushing it outward, allowing the brisk cold air to greet her porcelain skin with its icy kiss. She felt the chill, but wasn’t going to back out now. That was when a familiar demanding voice scared her half to death,

“Oh no you don’t, brat.” A chill paralyzed her, traveling down her spine just as she propped one leg up on the window sill, her hands grasping the frame, preparing for launch. “Ah fuck...” She uttered very softly beneath her breath; clearly the Captain had rubbed off on her. But that was when his voice registered and she turned with widening eyes.

Her heart quivered at the sight of him, a feeling of longing she didn’t know she felt until she locked eyes with his usual stoic steel grays. This confused her but she threw the thought away, not knowing how to explain herself right now.

“…Did you just call me a brat?” Nonchalantly, she tried to change the subject.

“Haven’t you heard?  I’m a grown woman now.” She said sarcastically, mimicking the nobles who made such comments in order to pressure her to rush and find a king.  Historia planted her feet firmly on the ground, her dark brown boots tapping against the tiles. She turned her gaze from him and to the outside, damning herself that she wasn’t fast enough. Finding Levi was surely her goal, but she didn’t want to get dragged back to the party either.

@sr-writes​

[garnetwrites]

sr-writes​:​

Levi resigned himself to merely glaring as the assholes from the library made pathetic plays for Historia’s attention.

He’s wasn’t about to jump into anything stupid with them, when they were clearly begging for him to react. No, fuck them, and their petty comments. He knew their game, and he wasn’t going to get swept up in it. That didn’t mean, however, that he’d to let them speak to Historia in such a shitty manner without getting called out.

When the lead goon made some comment about her youth, he placed himself between them instinctively. His fingers twitched at his sides, but he managed to keep from balling them into fists as he held the gaze of the man coolly.

“Doesn’t seem to me as though the Queen is interested in what you were expecting. Maybe you should take the rejection on the chin here, and head back to the party with your entourage.”

To his inner horror, they all laughed at his words.

He squared his jaw, unwilling to show any signs that he was phased by their outburst.

“I don’t see what’s funny.” His voice was low; dangerous.

The man at the forefront gave him a wide grin. “You’ve just proved a little theory of ours, Captain. Makes sense that you don’t want to share.”

Levi’s heart began to pound. Hold on - did they think … ?

“What?” He spat the word at them.

His question was ignored, as the man continued on. “Honestly, I can see the appeal. She looks like a goddess, and for a man of your years, she’s young enough to manipulate into exactly what -”

The guy didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Because Levi’s fist met his jaw squarely.

He reeled backwards into the group; hard enough that his momentum knocked several others off their feet.

Ah. Fuck.

Levi hadn’t intended to entertain their childish bullshit, but then, the idea of him manipulating Historia in any way? It made his stomach twist sickeningly. Disgusting pigs. He couldn’t give a shit about his own reputation, but to suggest she would be so naive as to allow herself to be taken for some sort of fool? They didn’t know her at all.

He grit his teeth, his eyes ablaze with warning as they swept the sorry group before him. The guy he’d struck appeared to be unconscious. Good.

“You disgust me. How dare you. I can assure you, Her Majesty is quite capable of making her own decisions.”

To prove his point, Levi turned to look at Historia. Shit, he hoped she wouldn’t be pissed at him for losing his temper. “What would you like to do, Your Majesty? Will you be returning to the party with your adoring fans, here?”

♕ —-; Historia didn’t have time to dissect what the man was trying to say, she could only focus on the fact that the tension in the air was rising. She started to blame herself for running away and putting the Captain in a position where he had to defend her or to even get violent. And then it happened. Widen eyes stared in both amazement and concern as Levi knocked the man out cold in one hit. She shook her head slightly, trying to figure out why the man before her was stupid enough to push the wolf from its den. 

But, a warm sense of justice captured her heart that wanted to form a smile of satisfaction on her lips. It had been so long since anyone stood by her as ironic as it was given that she was queen. But, she’d hear the same kind of trash talk from those around her either when they drowned themselves in beer or thought they were safe to gossip. When Levi looked at her, she broke away from her cogitations and tried to think of an answer. Quickly, she turned her gaze toward the group of pigs and stepped forward a bit closer. 

“Relay this information and I won’t have you locked up for the night.” She promised with a glare burning in her eyes. “Tell them I am sick and will be returning to my castle with Captain Levi as my escort.” She allowed the wisdom of silence to linger for a moment as the men scrabbled to get their guy up on his feet even though he was lifeless in their arms. “Enjoy the rest of my party.” She said coldly and sarcastically before turning on her heel and walking away – without any actual destination. She just wanted to get away from them as fast as she could.

 Her mind repeated the words the nobleman spoke so carelessly and wondered what he was trying to hint at. Why would he think that Levi was manipulating her? When the pair was finally alone again with the nobleman’s dead garden to the right of them, Historia paused. A heavy sigh escaped her before she would turn to Levi with guilt etched across her beautiful blue irises. “I’m sorry I dragged you into my mess.” Historia unclipped the pin holding her hair up perfectly and allowed her long blonde strands to fall just above her waist before turning and chucking it into the moat which separated the garden and the castle. 

An aggravated groan would leave her as she finally felt an odd sense of freedom away from playing dress up and pretending to look perfect.  Her heart was heavy and she almost didn’t want to say what she was going to. “…The rumors about us are only going to get stronger now…” she paused. “The councilmen might try to forbid us from ever seeing one another because of it…” Her voice was shaking and she didn’t know why the well of emotions was bubbling up in her chest from the mere thought of such happening. 

 “But maybe that would be best...look at what trouble I caused you. That piece of shit might have his lackeys try and get revenge or worse…” Historia was panicking deep inside even though on the outside it was hardly visible to the naked eye. But the fast exchanging of words and situations she was painting was a clear indication of her frantic state of mind. She placed her hand over her eyes, her index finger and thumb gripping her temples as she tried to prevent the headache that wanted to form.  

She kept thinking of her time at the orphanage with him, the warm colors which painted their moments of peace. She realized she yearned for those times, for the connection she built with him – because it was unlike anything she had before; because it was the first one she was able to living as herself. 

But before she even knew it....

Historia looked to him like a red rose, seeking the sun no matter where it goes.  

@sr-writes​