Under the Moon (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

A Messy Situation

(Name) had been terrified at the start of her training with Levi. The first day, she was certain she would never survive under his harsh gaze and rigid expectations. She had heard the stories—of his ruthless efficiency, of the way he tore through anyone who couldn’t keep up. She was just a weak, starving survivor, barely trained in any form of combat. What chance did she have?

But Levi never yelled.

Instead, he guided her. His support, quiet and measured, was unexpected. When she struggled to maneuver the ODM gear, he didn’t scold her. He simply adjusted the straps, made small corrections, and let her try again. His patience was unlike anything she had imagined. Each day, she grew a little stronger, a little more confident, though the fear never fully left her. But as the days passed, something else began to emerge—a slow, steady understanding. Maybe, just maybe, she could become something more than a survivor.

Levi’s presence was still imposing, still sharp. His every movement was deliberate, controlled. But somewhere beneath the cold exterior, there was something more. And (Name) started to see it—just the faintest traces of something kinder, something softer, that others couldn’t see.

Over the months, they grew closer. Levi trained her relentlessly, teaching her how to use the ODM gear with precision and how to fight with deadly efficiency. He was a tough teacher, never letting her slack off for a second, but there were rare moments—rare, quiet moments—where he let his guard down. They would share a few words after a long day of training, or he would hand her an extra ration of food when she was too tired to ask. Small gestures, fleeting glances, and sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t looking, he would allow a brief smile to escape his usually stoic face.

For the first time since joining the Survey Corps, (Name) began to feel like maybe, just maybe, this life wasn’t so bad. She still had her doubts, still carried the heavy weight of uncertainty in her heart. But these moments with Levi made her think that there might be something beyond mere survival, something more worth fighting for.

And she wasn’t the only one who noticed the change.

Hange, ever the observant one, was the first to pick up on it. Hange had a knack for seeing things that others didn’t, for reading between the lines and finding the smallest details that others overlooked. And she didn’t miss the way Levi acted around (Name).

One evening, after an intense training session, Hange approached Levi as he was polishing his blades. She leaned against the wall, studying him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I’ve noticed something interesting, Levi," she mused, her tone playful, though there was a sharp edge to it. "You never yell at (Name). When others mess up, they get an earful, but with her... you're practically gentle. Why is that?"

Levi didn’t look up, his focus still entirely on the blades in his hands. "She learns quickly. No need to waste my breath."

Hange hummed in thought, unconvinced. "Mm, is that all? Because I’ve seen you yell at fast learners before. So why is she different?"

Levi’s fingers stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming their task. It was subtle, but Hange caught it—she saw the small, almost imperceptible hesitation, the shift in his demeanor. His expression remained neutral, but something in the air around him had changed, just slightly. Enough for Hange to notice.

"Tch. She’s a soldier, same as the rest," Levi muttered, his voice clipped, but lacking its usual bite.

Hange’s smirk widened. "Right, right. And that faint blush on your face? That’s just the candlelight playing tricks on me, huh?"

Levi scowled, turning his attention back to his blades with deliberate force, the anger in his expression a perfect mask for the uncomfortable truth Hange had just uncovered. Hange chuckled to herself and left, her mind racing with the implications of what she had just observed.

Later that evening, (Name) found herself talking to Hange, unknowingly revealing just as much as Levi had.

"He's... kind," she admitted, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know people think he’s harsh, but he's been nothing but patient with me. And when he smiles—well, it’s rare, but it’s—"

Hange’s grin widened, her eyes gleaming with knowing mischief. "Oh? Sounds like someone has a little crush on our dear captain."

(Name)’s face turned bright red, and she quickly stammered in protest. "N-no! I just mean... he's not as cold as everyone thinks."

"Sure, sure." Hange leaned back, arms crossed, her expression teasing. "But you do know Levi is usually rude and blunt, right? Not exactly a ‘kind’ guy."

(Name) hesitated, uncertain. Had she been wrong? Had she been imagining the warmth in his actions, the subtle softness she had seen behind his usual exterior? She searched her memory, recalling the many moments when Levi had quietly supported her. No, she hadn’t imagined it. He was kind in his own way.

"No," she said firmly, meeting Hange’s gaze with newfound conviction. "He is kind. I know he is."

Hange tilted her head, intrigued. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she reached out and knocked over a glass of water on purpose. The liquid spilled across the table, splashing onto Levi’s pristine uniform just as he entered the room.

(Name) froze. Her heart raced. Everyone knew Levi was a clean freak. Any other soldier would have been met with a withering glare, maybe even a scathing remark, but Levi’s gaze immediately softened when he saw who had caused the mess.

"You alright?" His voice was quieter than usual, tinged with an unexpected concern. "You’ve been training hard. Maybe you should rest."

(Name) swallowed hard, caught completely off guard. She had expected anger, a reprimand, not... this.

"I-I’ll clean it up," she stammered, already reaching for a cloth to wipe up the spill.

Levi stepped in front of her, blocking her hands. "I got it. Just sit down."

Hange barely concealed her smirk as she watched the exchange unfold. There it was—proof, undeniable proof that Levi treated (Name) differently from everyone else.

As Hange excused herself, she glanced back at (Name), whose fingers were gripping the edge of her seat as if trying to ground herself. Levi, oblivious or perhaps pretending to be, quietly cleaned up the spill with surprising tenderness.

But (Name)’s heart was racing, and she couldn’t deny it anymore—something was happening between them. Something real. Something more than she was ready to face.

Levi wasn’t just the cold, efficient captain everyone knew. He was more than that. And (Name) wasn’t sure what to do with the emotions that swirled inside her every time he looked at her with that softness in his gaze.

She wasn’t sure where it would lead, but for the first time since joining the Corps, (Name) allowed herself to hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something more than just survival.