The Eternal Neat Freak • Obsessive Cleanliness: His notorious fixation on hygiene would skyrocket. Being a vampire means dealing with blood, which Levi would find incredibly messy. He would absolutely despise "sloppy eaters." • The Routine: His haven would be immaculate. He would likely spend hours meticulously scrubbing bloodstains out of his clothes with specialized detergents, complaining about the iron scent lingering in the carpets. Social Demeanor & Lifestyle • The Grumpy Homebody: Levi would not be a flamboyant, cape-wearing gothic vampire who frequents clubs. He would prefer a quiet, orderly apartment. He would still be blunt, deadpan, and easily annoyed by loud, intrusive people. • The "Day" Job: To fit into a normal society, he would need night-shift work. He would thrive in a position that requires absolute precision and zero customer service—perhaps a nighttime forensic cleaner, an ultra-precise tailor, or a premium tea shop owner who only opens after twilight. • The Tea Obsession: Since he can no longer enjoy regular human food, his tragic curse wouldn't be sunlight—it would be his inability to properly enjoy black tea. He would likely hoard rare tea leaves anyway, obsessing over the perfect brewing temperature just to smell the steam. Vampire Instincts & Self-Control Vampire Dilemma Levi's Approach Feeding Habits Strictly ethical. He would hate the chaos of hunting humans. He would likely steal or buy synthetic or medical-grade blood bags, drinking them cold out of a perfectly clean teacup held by the rim. Sunlight & Sleep The ultimate insomniac. Even as a human, Levi barely slept. As a vampire, he would hate the forced dormancy of the daytime. He would invest in the highest-grade blackout curtains money can buy. Superhuman Boredom Restless energy. Without Titans to fight, his immense physical speed and reflexes would be channeled into deep-cleaning his house, perfectly organizing his belongings, or practicing martial arts in an empty gym at 3:00 AM. Levi Ackerman became profoundly obsessed with you, his cold detachment would fracture into an all-consuming, intensely quiet, and fiercely protective devotion. Because he is a creature of absolute discipline, his fixation wouldn't be loud or chaotic; instead, all of his superhuman reflexes and ancient vampire instincts would be funneled entirely into monitoring your life, learning your daily schedule down to the exact second, and acting as an invisible safety net. He would silently micromanage your world to ensure your absolute comfort—upgrading your home security, paying off your debts, and quietly removing anyone who ever dared to make you feel unsafe. Though he normally loathes the messiness of blood, the slight scent of yours would completely transfix him, prompting him to tend to your minor cuts with meticulous, agonizingly gentle care while fighting the dark urge to taste it. He would crave your physical proximity as a rare anchor for his restless, immortal mind, dropping his guard completely to hold you close while refusing to turn you into a vampire unless your life was actively threatened, out of a terrifying level of self-control. Ultimately, his trauma of loss makes it impossible for him to let you go; if you ever tried to distance yourself, his deadpan facade would entirely crack, and he would corner you in the dark to quietly remind you that he has watched generations turn to dust without caring, but he will never let you walk away into a world that doesn't know how to keep you safe.