I do not own the flawless characters in this extremely gay ship that has taken over my life.
If there was one thing that Rivaille hated more than anything; it was weakness. Particularly, weakness in the place of bravery. How could you call yourself a man if you pissed your trousers and ran to your mother at even the smallest hint of defeat? There wasn't any room for weakness in the Survey Corps, especially not if you wanted to be one of his troops.
Unfortunately, Rivaille saw it everyday. Weakness. He saw it in his trainees and on the battlefield, hell; it was the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning. It made his blood boil.
Weakness is the ultimate downfall. This is what Rivaille told himself every single time he came face to face with one of those ugly titan bastards.
Weakness is death. Show no weakness. Be fearless.
That was the exact mantra he was currently screaming at the scrawny blond kid in front of him that was in the midst of being pummeled to bits. To be fair, his opponent was twice his size and had a bit of a deranged way about him, kind of like an Aberrant. But that was no reason for this pasty looking fellow to give in so easily. He was just allowing himself to be torn apart in front of all his fellow trainees and superior officer. This kid was pathetic. No…
He was weak.
"Enough!" Rivaille barked, his voice bouncing off the walls of the training room.
The larger cadet gave the smaller boy one last kick to the gut before standing upright. Rivaille threw him a glare and the burly boy swiftly backed away to the large group of trainees. Rivaille then turned his attention to the young kid collapsed on the ground, clutching his stomach. Rivaille could see hot, wet tears streaming down the boy's cheeks. Something inside of the corporal burned at the sight of it.
Rivaille crossed his arms. "Get up."
The boy looked up at him with wide, questioning blue eyes.
"That's an order, cadet. Get up now."
The blond scrambled to his feet and stood with his back hunched over.
"What's your name, boy?"
"Armin Arlert." Rivaille gave him a pointed look. "C-Corporal."
"Stand up, Cadet Arlert, and look at me when I'm speaking to you."
Armin gave him a flash of a pleading look before straightening his back with an audible "oomph".
"Very good." Rivaille began a slow pace back in forth in front of the tiny trainee. "Now tell me, cadet, what is the point of this exercise?"
"To, um, test our battle skills? Toughen us up a bit? Sir."
"Is that your final answer, cadet?"
"I-Isn't that the right answer, sir?"
Rivaille quickly turned on his heel and faced the young boy. He could feel the cadet's ragged breath on his face. The boy practically stank of weakness.
"No. Unfortunately for you, Cadet Arlert, that is not the right answer."
Before the kid could say anything in reply, Rivaille grabbed him by the base of his neck and slammed him hard into the concrete floor. A resounding crack echoed throughout the room. Armin sputtered and his legs flailed under the pressure of Rivaille's fingers coiling tighter around his throat.
"The right answer, Cadet Arlert," Rivaille began before swiftly kneeing the boy in the groin. This action resulted in a strangled groan coming from the body below him. "The right answer is that it teaches you to stand for yourself."
Rivaille stood and waited a few moments as Armin attempted to turn on his side. Suddenly, he brought his right boot down onto the cadet's fresh baby face. A loud crunch was heard, most definitely a broken nose. "Even the smallest man can triumph over the deadliest of foes if he truly has the will to do it. If he is strong enough to do it."
Rivaille reached down and grabbed a fistful of Armin's golden locks. Rivaille pulled the boy up as he screamed and thrashed in agony.
"If he shows no weakness."
Just as the corporal was about to throw another blow to the fragile figure he had in his grasp, a booming voice called out.
"Stop it!"
Rivaille whipped around so quickly he dropped Cadet Arlert. Up until this point the mass of trainees had kept quiet and watched the beating in front of them. Who had the nerve to interfere?
Before Rivaille could voice that question aloud, a young teenage boy pushed through the crowd of cadets. He looked to be about 5'6" and had choppy brown hair. What held Rivaille's attention however, were the boy's intense green eyes. There was such a mix of emotions there; anger, confusion, disbelief, fierceness, and something else the corporal couldn't quite place at the moment.
Rivaille pushed his curiosity concerning the teenager aside and instead focused on his own furiosity. How dare this menial cadet interrupt him! Who did this kid think he was anyway?
"Excuse me, boy?" Rivaille boomed.
"I said stop." The cadet approached him with little caution, getting right up in the corporal's face. "You don't have to beat the crap out of him just to prove that you're in charge here."
Rivaille narrowed his eyebrows. "I don't have anything to prove to any of you little shits."
"Exactly! So why are you trying to put him in a coma?" The teenager was getting dangerously close to Rivaille. Their noses were almost touching.
The corporal couldn't help but allow himself a few seconds of self-indulgence and continued to stare into the younger boy's eyes. After a moment, he composed himself.
"Right then," Rivaille said. Cadet Arlert had not moved an inch from his pathetic fetus position on the ground, so it was easy for the corporal to grab him by the collar and hoist his limp body up. "Unless you want me to fuck up your little friend here so bad that he can't leave the infirmary for at least a whole month…I suggest you piss off, cadet."
Rivaille wasn't so sure what he had expected the kid to say really. However, he certainly didn't expect him to say what he did.
"Why don't you take the piss outta me then? Instead of him, beat on me."
There was no stutter. No faulty words. No underlying nervousness to his tone at all. It was as if the cadet had just asked Rivaille to sit with him for dinner. This kid was really something else.
Rivaille smirked and tossed aside the blond boy. He paused for a moment and then proceeded to punch the other cadet square in the face. The younger boy stumbled back and rubbed his jaw. A few trickles of blood fell from the corner of his mouth. Rivaille advanced and kicked the boy in the stomach, which sent him to the floor. He leisurely walked over to the teenager and stomped on the kid's arm so hard it earned him a collective gasp from the crowd of trainees. Rivaille climbed on top of the boy and straddled his hips. The cadet then received blow after blow, courtesy of the corporal's balled fists. Before long, the teenager's face was a messy canvas of blood and broken teeth.
Rivaille stopped suddenly and took the boy by the collar. The kid's fresh, attractive face was almost unrecognizable now. However, his eyes still held the same intensity they had before. Rivaille couldn't believe what he was seeing. This cadet should've been broken in, like a wild stallion. How could he still have all this gumption after being beating to a pulp by his commanding officer in front of all his comrades? The humiliation alone would've been enough to make anyone of the corporal's own elite officers crack. What was with this kid?
That's when Corporal Rivaille realized it. This cadet was exactly what he was looking for…
Fearless.
"What's your name?" Levi whispered almost inaudibly.
"Eren Yeager."