#rivetra drabble
Fic collaboration with @soarecreates ❤️
Life with the Ackermans
Levi Ackerman’s life can only be described by using two words: domestic bliss. When a ghost from Levi’s past visits him, his family’s life takes an unexpected turn.
Postwar Rivetra in Marley with a pinch of Kenny Ackerman in their lives
Snippet:
Their new lives with Kenny by their side lived up to Levi’s expectations: he was exhausted. He had missed his old man’s presence in his life over the years, but now he would laugh at his former self for having such feelings after getting a glimpse of how it could have turned out if Kenny had stuck by his side. Levi appreciated all the quiet years he had known before the present day, even with the war. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but even dealing with Eren seemed a simpler task nowadays. Fortunately for Kenny, Levi’s violent ways of discipline were a thing of the past, all thanks to his loving wife.
The disarray his life had turned into truly hit him when he woke one morning, and his day had already been ruined before it had even begun. He’d been looking forward to having Petra all to himself for yet another day before the children’s return from Paradise, and he had even told Kenny not to show his face around there. Any joy he’d felt was quickly sucked out of him the moment he saw the junk in his garden- an old metal trailer, rusty and as gross-looking as his uncle sat in the middle of their yard. If his uncle could afford to live in a trailer, why was he bunking with them? The man stormed downstairs from the bathroom, or as best as he could storm when he had one crutch in hand, the other hand holding the handrail with a deathly grip. He needed some answers. But his oblivious wife just stood in the kitchen, cooking some breakfast for the two of them.
“Have you seen that shit in our garden?” He scoffed in disbelief.
“Oh, the trailer?” Petra responded, ignorant to the annoyance in her husband’s voice. And Petra, not being as clueless about the whole situation, only seemed to irritate Levi further when she casually spoke about it.
“Are you telling me you’re fine with it?!” Sometimes she made him wonder why they had gotten married in the first place. That was until he glimpsed at her warm, beautiful, amber eyes and forgot about it all, even his own name. Petra knew how dramatic Levi was with personal space and cleanliness, so she never took his harsh words to heart. She had expected this response when she’d agreed to let Kenny move the trailer into their yard, sure that Kenny knew what he was doing by asking her and not his nephew.
“Not even the whiskey can keep these old bones warm anymore,” Kenny had argued with her.
“He can’t sleep in a tent all winter, Levi,” was Petra’s final answer. She would not let Kenny freeze to death in the makeshift tent their kids had come up with during the summer, no matter what Levi had to say on the matter. Admittedly, she hadn’t been so keen on the idea at first, as that was less space for their children to play, but Kenny had swayed her.
“Sure he can. He lived in the Underground, remember? I’m sure he’s slept in worse places.” Even nowadays, he dreamt of the dump he and Kenny used to call home. An old, dirty mattress that Kenny dared to call a bed was all he offered Levi when he took him in.
“It’s that or our couch,” was all Petra had to say to put an end to the argument. Levi could just imagine it: Kenny laying on his couch, pants off, with a cigarette in his hand and a beer bottle in the other, spilling everything on his precious yellow suede. As always, Petra had won the battle.
“You’re playing a dirty game, Ral.”
@soarecreates and I wrote our first fic together!
Life with the Ackermans
Levi Ackerman’s life can only be described by using two words: domestic bliss. When a ghost from Levi’s past visits him, his family’s life takes an unexpected turn.
Postwar Rivetra in Marley with a pinch of Kenny Ackerman in their lives
Snippet:
“The fucking rats are at it again, Petra.”
Levi sighed in exasperation as he looked through the kitchen cupboards, brows furrowing as the empty spot where his favourite tea biscuits usually sat mocked him again. He was quickly growing tired of this infestation. First, it had been some bread and then some cheese, and before they knew it, they would notice a little something missing every morning. But his favourite biscuits? That was where he drew the line.
“It’s probably the kids’ carelessness; I’m sure they just forget,” his dear wife always told him, brushing off his misfortunes. Little did she know of the extent of his worry, the countless nights he had lost thinking of the little devils roaming around freely in his spotless home. His life in the Underground had taught him to avoid the little disease carriers, and his skin crawled at the idea of sharing a place with them. The multiple traps that Petra had set out clearly weren’t doing the trick, but his own methods hadn’t been very successful either, as he grimly recalled that one shameful night that Petra would never let him forget.
Levi had been on a mission that night to finally spot the little scoundrels terrorizing his home and his family. Mostly him, really, not that he would ever admit it. He had come up with what he believed to be a foolproof plan to catch them. After making sure Petra and the kids were in deep slumber, the man had gotten up in the middle of the night to get everything set up. He chose the perfect bait, some stinky cheese that he usually would never dare to bring into the house, but made an exception this once. He had set it out on the countertop in plain sight to hopefully gather all the pesky rats in one spot. And then he waited, hidden away behind a sofa where he would be out of sight but could quickly jump into action when the time called. He had been ready with artillery, too: a broom in one hand and an old metal bucket in the other to swat the little beasts into their hell. One thing that was not supposed to be part of his rat hunting uniform: Petra’s floral nightgown. But the odds were against him that night. Colder conditions than he was accustomed to and his wife’s tendency to be roused easily forced him into a choice he would always regret.
