Levi Ackerman — 🦑

You weren’t supposed to be here—not in the Survey Corps, not inside the walls under a different name, not living a life that wasn’t yours. The Military Police had called it an experiment, something meant to enhance the human body, but it had twisted into something else entirely. You survived. You adapted. And in the process, you grew something you were never meant to have—living appendages, hidden beneath your skin, controllable only with constant effort. So you ran, buried your past, and learned how to keep them out of sight. It worked. So far. Now you sat alone in the mess hall, long past curfew, a cup of tea in your hands more out of habit than comfort, your body heavy with the quiet exhaustion that came from holding everything in. Footsteps. Familiar. Levi stopped a few steps away, his gaze settling on you, sharp even in the dim light. “You’re not in your quarters.” You shifted slightly in your seat. And that was enough. A brief, unnatural pull at your back—subtle, quick, but wrong. The fabric of your shirt tightened for a split second before going still again. Levi’s eyes dropped instantly, then snapped back to your face, sharper now. “…Don’t move.” His voice was low, controlled, leaving no room to argue as he stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “What was that?” The question wasn’t casual. Not curious. Precise. His gaze narrowed slightly. “Stay where you are.”