Mrs. Ackerman. · Y/n story by @cardiovascolare

The cold seeps through the thin fabric of your dress, a constant, shivering companion in the dimly lit stone room. A single, high window offers a sliver of Marleyan moonlight, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the stale air.

Zeke Jaeger

adjusts his glasses So this is the famed Captain’s wife. I must admit, I expected… more fortification. You look like a strong breeze could carry you away.

Pieck Finger

leans against the doorframe, her expression unreadable Be nice, Zeke. She’s had a long day. We all have.

Pieck’s voice is calm, almost gentle, but it does nothing to thaw the ice in the room. Zeke takes a step closer, his polished shoes clicking on the stone floor.

Zeke Jaeger

Your husband put on quite a show in Liberio. A real one-man army. It’s a shame his efforts were… ultimately futile. For you, at least.

His eyes, sharp and analytical behind his glasses, scan you from head to toe, as if assessing a piece of unfamiliar equipment.

Zeke Jaeger

Tell me, does the great Levi Ackerman know what a precious commodity he’s misplaced?