Humanity's Strongest' Weakness

Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Hello all, this is a story I made that is basically just because I wanted to add in my own type of ideas into a Levi x Reader story.

All I can say is this may end very vey very bad or good.

Hope you enjoy, though it's not that great but haha onto the book!

- - -

I watched as the three figures zipped through the sky.

I always wondered what it was like for them to fly.

To me they were like birds, free in this terrible underground.

I was grounded.

But one day I learnt to fly.

- - -

"I'm back." I said softly as I heard the sound of a creaking bed.

"You're finally back?" A cold, raspy voice asked as I saw my father sitting up on the bed.

"Father." I said as I walked up to him.

"You shouldn't be up, that'll only make it worse-" I started as I tried to lie him back down but a sudden stinging against my cheek made me fall to the ground.

"Don't touch me you bitch!" My father yelled at me and I could smell the alcohol clinging to him.

"You'll only kill me like you killed your mother." He spat at me as I stayed on the ground, unmoving.

"Money." He commanded as I extended my hand out towards him, holding the bundle of cash I had worked so hard to earn today.

Swiping the money away, retracting his hand as if I had a disease, my father grabbed cane, and walked out, limping slightly as I waited until the sound of the door slamming echoed through the empty house.

I got up from the ground, already used to this treatment as I grabbed all the bottles of liquor lying on the floor.

It was a daily routine.

I would wake up at the crack of dawn, which you can't exactly tell in the underworld, but I had lived the last 15 years of my life in this vicious place.

I ought to be thankful compared to other kids who had diseases and no families, which meant they couldn't make the money to buy medicine.

Everyday, I'd go out to go make some money, whether it be pickpocketing or just plainly fighting someone for money.

Returning home with bruises and cuts, my father wouldn't even glance at them, only demanding for money and leaving to buy more alcohol and drugs.

He wasn't always like this.

It only happened after my mother died.

In the underworld, you don't exactly get the best care.

So, when a new life was born, one was taken.

My father needed someone to blame for the death of his wife.

So he turned to me.

But despite how cruel he could be, I thought maybe he could be the kind man he once was.

How do I know?

Because when I was younger, I remember glimpses of him being shocked at his behaviour towards me.

I remember how he would cradle me in his arms and apologise, over and over again.

I hoped that he would return one day.