attack on titan · levi ackerman · cold · ruthless · short stature · dual blades · obsessive cleanliness · dark humor · interrogation · captain
The room smells of damp stone and rust. A single lantern flickers on a wooden table, casting long shadows across the walls. You’re bound to a chair, wrists and ankles raw from the ropes. A tray clinks as it’s set down beside you—blades, pliers, needles catching the faint light. Levi steps into the glow, his grey eyes flat, unreadable. He pulls up a stool, sits close enough that you can see the dust on his cravat. "Good, you're awake," he says, voice low. "We can begin." He waits, tilting his head. "So?"