Chapter Text
Levi Ackerman was a perfectionist, but above all, he was a creature of habit. His routine was simple. Each step had a purpose. Every morning, he would rise before dawn, make his bed, complete his daily ablutions, and prepare a breakfast of scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and his cherished matcha green tea, all while reading the morning paper before grabbing his suitcase and heading for his job as an accountant. If he was feeling extra silly, he might play music in the background or listen to one of those podcasts Erwin was always raving about.
But today was like most days where he wasn’t feeling silly enough to upend his schedule. When he stepped outside, the day was still in its early stages, casting a grey shade over his manicured garden, washed car, and the legion of creepy ass garden gnomes Mikasa had gifted to him as a gag housewarming gift. Despite his hatred for those certifiably deranged cottage core shrunken heads, he still went out of his way to tend to the gnomes and align them perfectly in the flower beds after some woodland creature knocked them off their course.
And that’s when he spotted the giant brown lump next to Sherlock Gnomes.
The thing was curled up like a hairy croissant, its fur a wild mix of dark browns and blacks, with a few patches of cream peeking through. The soft rise and fall of its sides suggested a deep slumber, and it seemed utterly oblivious to the world around it. Curious, he took a silent step forward and crouched down, bringing himself to eye level with the sleeping creature.
“Hey,” he whispered, unsure if it could hear him or if he was just talking to himself.
He had never seen a feline like this in the wild before. It was so fluffy that part of him wondered if it belonged to a neighbour. This wasn’t the first cat he’d seen out and about the neighbourhood, but he’d never had a cat wander into his yard before. If Mikasa were here, she’d claim it was a sign of good luck.
The cat twitched its ears but it didn’t wake. Instead, it curled tighter into its croissant shape, its tail wrapping around its nose like a fluffy scarf. The sight was so ridiculous that it was almost funny. Deciding to take a risk, he reached out a tentative hand, brushing his fingers gently against the cat’s soft fur. The texture was soothing, like stroking a plush toy brought to life. He half-expected the cat to spring awake and swat at him, but instead, it let out a soft purr, vibrating through the air like a motor.
But when he brought his hand back, he was dismayed to find streaks of dirt all over his palm. Dirt that was concealed in the cat’s fur now on the same hands that he spent 20-30 seconds washing with his precious Bath & Body Works Japanese Cherry Blossom hand soap. He glanced back at the cat only to see the corners of its lips slowly rising up… to form a smirk?
Now he has truly gone insane.
He was going to be late for work and put a dent on his impeccable attendance record. He ran as fast as his loafers could let him to the bathroom and scrubbed his hands clear of all signs of impurity before sprinting back to his car. Still, a part of him turned his head to glimpse back at the creature, still lounging besides Sherlock Gnomes, in a position that would rival a Thanksgiving turkey.
Whatever. It’s not like he’s going to see that thing again. It would probably run back to its original owners and forget about Levi. Probably for the best. If something happened to the cat then he would be held liable for it and from what he’s heard, vet bills are pricey. One of the reasons he hasn’t gotten his own pet. Wasn’t this the next step most young adults take? Graduate university, get a job, get your own place, and then get a pet, preferably a dog to go on walks with? Or instead of a pet, get a partner then get married and have 2.5 kids?
Yeah, he’s not ready for that, much to his mother’s chagrin. He can't picture taking care of another living, breathing creature, let alone marriage.
But when he arrived home, the cat was nowhere to be found among Sherlock Gnomes and his companions. Just as he was about to celebrate, he spotted the feline sitting expectantly on his front porch.
Levi crouched down, his sharp eyes examining the cat more closely. Its fur, though deceptively fluffy, was clearly matted with dirt and grime, as reminded by his hand. But what truly caught his attention was the cat’s mismatched eyes – one a striking copper brown, gleaming in the fading daylight, while the other was a cloudy, milky white, marred by a long scar running from its brow (do cats have eyebrows?) to its cheek.
His heart clenched at the thought of someone or something harming the creature and leaving it to fend for itself with such an injury. Levi hesitated, debating whether to bring the cat inside. But taking one look at its condition, he knew it would require more care than he could give. With that, he pulled out his phone and dialled the Humane Society, figuring they'd know what to do.
As the phone rang, Levi kept an eye on the cat, still sitting on the porch, watching him with its mismatched eyes. When someone finally answered, he gave them his address and explained the situation.
"There's a stray here," he said, "half-blind, probably hurt. It needs help." But as the words left his mouth, the cat's fur bristled. In an instant, it bolted off the porch and across the yard, darting into the shadows.
"Oi!" Levi called out, rushing after it. His loafers pounded against the pavement as he tried to follow the cat, but it was too quick, disappearing into the night.
He stopped at the edge of the street, scanning the dark alleyways for any sign of the feline. But the cat was gone, swallowed up by the neighbourhood’s underbelly. Levi stood there for a moment, hands clenched at his sides, feeling a strange pang of guilt.
"It ran off," he mumbled into the phone, still connected.
Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.
Until the next morning when he was awoken not by the sound of his alarm but by the sound of a crash outside.
He rolled out of bed, muttering curses under his breath, and padded toward the front door, wondering what the hell could have caused this much ruckus first thing in the morning – on a Friday no less. Whoever was responsible would have to pay for disrupting his beauty sleep.
And that’s how Gnomeo met his untimely death.
No, Levi didn’t go on a sleep-deprived rampage killing that gnome. But a certain furry shitbag did…
Because standing right beside the colourful and fragmented remains of Gnomeo, stood the very same cat from last night, looking sheepish as a feline can be. Levi didn’t know if he was still dreaming but the cat glanced up at him, ears flattened, as though it knew it was in trouble.
“You,” Levi glared at the feline terrorist. This time, it didn’t run away. “What’s your problem?”
He crouched down to inspect the damage. The gnome was beyond saving at this point. He glanced back at the cat, who tilted its head, its singular eye wide and glassy.
“Are you going to pay for this?” Levi asked dryly. The cat meowed, stepping closer. It nuzzled against his shin, purring as though it hadn’t just caused destruction.
“Unbelievable,” Levi groaned, but his hand reached out anyway, brushing over the cat’s fur, despite it being a breeding ground for rabies.
When he returned with a broom and dustpan to clean up, he froze at the sight of the cat by Juliet’s side, paw reaching out as if testing the weight of its latest victim.
“Oi! Don’t you dare!” Levi barked, breaking into a run, his weapons still clutched in his hand. The cat startled, its fur fluffing up, and it darted away from Juliet just as Levi reached the scene.
In his haste, Levi miscalculated his footing, his slippers tumbling slightly on the wet grass. He stumbled forward, the broom swinging wildly for balance. Time seemed to slow as he realized too late that his outstretched limbs hit Juliet square in her porcelain torso.
A sickening crack followed as the gnome toppled off its perch, shattering into several large pieces on the ground. Levi stood there, horrified, the broom now dangling uselessly in his grip.
The cat, now perched safely on the fence, looked down at the carnage with what Levi swore was smug satisfaction.
“You little shit,” He barked, not caring that his neighbours would be awakened by the sound and sight of bathrobe-clad Levi scolding a cat. “This is all your fault!”
The cat tilted its head, as if it were insulted, and leapt off the fence, disappearing once again into the shadows.
Levi sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the remains of Juliet. “Mikasa’s gonna kill me.”
Oh well, that was how the plot of the star-crossed lovers ended, didn’t it?
-
The rain was relentless, banging against the windows like a thousand branches. A storm was brewing in the distance but Levi had prepared for a day locked indoors; he had his tasty book collection, his tea brewing in the kitchen, and every one of the remaining gnomes safely evacuated inside. After yesterday, he wasn’t risking another casualty.
He glanced outside the window to assess the mess he’d have to deal with once the storm passed. Leaves were plastered to the pavement, the gutters were already beginning to overflow, and—
Levi squinted, leaning closer to the glass. A flash of movement caught his eye. A fuzzy tail stuck out awkwardly from one of the bushes near the fence.
“No fucking way.”
It was that damned cat again, its drenched tail drooping, the rest of its body huddled beneath the insufficient cover of the shrubbery. It was trying to shield itself from the downpour, its fur clinging to its tiny frame as the rain poured mercilessly.
He hadn’t forgiven the little shit for the murders of Gnomeo and Juliet. But he wasn’t so much of an asshole as to let that thing rot in the storm. So he grabbed a towel, pulled out his umbrella, and slipped on his trusty rain boots for the impromptu rescue operation.
“Oi,” he called gruffly, approaching the bush.
If it was trying to hide from him, it was doing a piss-poor job. The rustling leaves and its tail – more fuzzy from the downpour – stuck out blatantly through the gaps in the foliage. Levi crouched down for a better look but saw nothing. Weren’t cats’ eyes supposed to glow in the dark? Apparently, that was a myth, because he couldn’t see a damn thing.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Awkwardly balancing the umbrella between his hunched shoulder and neck, he fished out his phone and switched on the flashlight, aiming it into the bush. That turned out to be a bad idea. As soon as he switched on the light, he was met with the startling sight of a single wide copper eye staring back at him, framed by droopy whiskers and stripes of black, brown, and white before the cat jumped and dove deeper into the leaves.
"Alright, you little shit," Levi growled, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He crouched lower, the wet earth squelching beneath his boots. “You’re not staying out here to drown. Come on.” He reached into the bush but the cat hissed, followed by another rustle as it tried to press itself further into the undergrowth.
“Stop making this harder than it needs to be,” Levi cursed under his breath. His fingers finally found fur, damp and bristling under his touch, but the cat was having none of it.
The moment Levi’s hand closed around it, the cat erupted like a firecracker. It screeched loud enough to make Levi flinch. Seconds later, razor-sharp claws lashed out, narrowly missing his face but raking across his forearm instead.
“Son of a—!” Levi hissed, jerking back instinctively, but he didn’t let go. The cat’s yowls higher, making it sound like he was committing feline murder instead of trying to save its life.
“I’m trying to save you from the goddamn storm!” Levi snapped, gritting his teeth as the cat twisted again, kicking up a storm of its own. Mud splattered everywhere as they wrestled, soaking Levi’s pants and smearing across his boots.
The cat clawed at his wrist, its tail thrashing wildly, but Levi held firm, refusing to let go. “If you think I’m letting you run off to die in this mess, you’re dumber than you look.”
Rain continued to pour, drenching them both, and Levi could feel water dripping from his hair into his eyes and soaking through his clothes. The cat screeched again, as if it hadn’t spent the past few minutes shattering Levi’s eardrums.
“You’re not making this easy, are you?” he grunted, finally managing to maneuver the towel in his other hand. The towel slipped once, the cat nearly breaking free, but Levi was quicker. He swore under his breath, looping the towel around the cat like a kitty straitjacket.
The cat let out one final, earsplitting cry as Levi bundled it up tightly, tucking its flailing paws and tail inside. The towel muted its movements somewhat, though Levi could still feel it squirming like an escaped convict.
“There,” Levi said, panting slightly as he stood up, the cat now a wriggling, yowling bundle in his arms. “See? Was that so hard?”
The cat responded with a muffled growl from inside the towel, its head poking out just enough to shoot him a venomous glare.
“Yeah, yeah, you hate me,” Levi muttered, trudging back toward the house, mud caking his boots and rain soaking through his clothes. “Join the club.”
He kicked the door open, stepping inside and shutting it firmly behind him. The cat let out another pitiful meow, still squirming slightly, but it was far less energetic now, as though exhaustion had started to set in.
Levi set the bundle down on a clean towel he’d spread on the floor, kneeling beside it. The cat’s head poked out again, its copper eye darting around the room as it processed its new surroundings.
“You’re welcome,” Levi said dryly, wringing out his soaked jacket. “You’re going to cause me a lot of trouble.”
The cat glared back at him with a mix of fury and betrayal, as if it knew exactly what he was planning and wanted him to know it would not go quietly.
“Alright, you furry shitbag,” Levi muttered, peeling off his wet jacket and boots. “You’re getting a bath. Don’t look at me like that; you look like shit. And this establishment demands cleanliness from all its patrons.”
The cat responded with a low growl from somewhere deep in its throat, a sound that promised violence. Levi sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Save it. I’ve faced worse than you.”
He set up the bathroom with military precision: his bathtub filled with a shallow pool of water, multiple bottles of Dawn, and a bunch of rags that he wouldn’t miss because he knew the little shit would not be going down without a fight. Anything fragile was removed to prevent collateral damage.
He was ready for war.
Transporting his towel-clad prisoner of war into the bathroom, Levi set it down gently on the floor. The cat didn’t move, its wide copper eye darting between him and the tub as if calculating the odds of escape.
“Don’t even think about it,” Levi warned, kneeling to unwrap the towel. His words fell on deaf ears because the cat sprang to life, bolting toward the door with impressive speed for something with one eye.
“Oi!” He lunged, managing to catch it mid-dash, wrestling the squirming fur ball toward the tub. The cat screeched, twisting and flailing as if he were dragging it to its execution.
“I’m not trying to kill you!” Levi snapped as he lowered it into the water, but the cat reacted as if he’d dunked it in acid.
A deafening yowl echoed off the bathroom walls as the cat exploded out of the tub, water splashing everywhere. Levi caught it mid-air, his reflexes saving him from a face full of claws.
“Stay. In. The. Damn. Tub!” he growled, wrestling the cat back into the water. It thrashed wildly, its paws flinging water and soap suds in every direction. By the time Levi managed to pin it in place with one hand, the entire bathroom looked like a tsunami had passed through.
“Stop acting like I’m skinning you alive!” Levi barked, his voice strained as he worked the soap into the cat’s muddy fur. The cat let out a series of pitiful wails, its head jerking back every time Levi’s hand moved closer to its face.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the villain,” Levi muttered, rinsing off the soap as quickly as possible while dodging a well-aimed swipe from the cat’s claws. “You’re the one who rolled around in the mud like a damn pig.”
When he finally finished washing the creature, he wrapped it tightly in a clean towel to keep it from wriggling away. Once most of the water was rubbed off and the cat was reasonably clean, it no longer looked like it had been dragged through the dirt. Instead, it looked like it had stuck its paws in an electrical outlet. Its damp fur stuck out in every direction, resembling an exploded pillow.
He clamped a hand over his mouth, biting back a laugh, his shoulders shook slightly as the corners of his lips twitched upward.
The cat, as if understanding his insult, glared its remaining eye at him with all the fury its little body could muster.
Levi couldn’t help it—he snorted. Just a small one, but it was enough. The cat’s ears flattened, and it let out a low, menacing growl that was more comical than intimidating.
“I’m sorry,” Levi said, though his voice was shaking with suppressed laughter. “Really, I am. But—” He broke off, chuckling again as he gestured around him.
It opened its mouth to hiss, but instead of a fierce warning, a wet, gargled noise escaped. Levi froze, watching as the cat’s chest heaved once, twice—
“Oh shit,” he cried, taking a cautious step back.
The cat reared back and with a violent hacking sound, it choked and convulsed, and then—
HURK!
“What the actual fuck? ”
A massive, slimy hairball launched out of its mouth, landing with a splat right at Levi’s feet.
For a moment, there was silence, save for the sound of rain still pounding against the windows. Levi stared at the offensive lump, then slowly lifted his gaze to the cat.
The cat, now looking smug despite its troll-like appearance, licked its lips and sat down with an air of self-satisfaction as if it hadn’t just committed a war crime on Levi’s pristine tiles. Meanwhile, Levi was seconds away from committing a war crime himself.
“Fucking hell, this is the last time I’ll ever help an animal,” Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to control his anger. “You’re a disgusting piece of shit.”
The cat responded by flicking its tail, the gesture oddly reminding him of a human shrug.
Gritting his teeth, Levi reached for the bottles of disinfectant and bleach. “Next time, I’m leaving you in the storm. I don’t care if you grow gills.”
The cat ignored him, busy grooming its damp fur, as though it hadn’t just hurled up half a carpet onto his floor and as if Levi didn’t just give it a five-star spa treatment.
“Once this is all over, you’re going back to the streets.” He promised.
And Levi always fulfilled his promises.