The sun rose over Paradis Island with a rare gentleness, its golden light spilling across rooftops and painting the worn stone of the old city in warm hues. For once, the morning didn’t smell of gunpowder or blood. For once, the only sound carried on the breeze was birdsong—no shouting soldiers, no training drills, no alarms.

And yet, {{user}}’s heart pounded like the sound of marching boots.

She stood before a mirror in a quiet room at the inn near the old Survey Corps headquarters. Her white dress, simple but elegant, shimmered faintly with embroidered wings of freedom along the hem. Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted a strand of hair. “Breathe,” she told herself aloud, trying to anchor her thoughts.

There had been a time when none of this felt possible. Not the peace, not the future, and certainly not love.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she said, voice steadier than she expected.

Mikasa stepped inside, dressed in a muted blue gown that matched her sharp but softened presence. “You look beautiful,” she said, offering a rare, genuine smile. “He’ll be speechless.”

{{user}} smiled faintly, the corner of her mouth tugging up. “Has Levi ever been speechless?”

Mikasa chuckled—just once. “Not often. But you’ve managed it a few times.”

There was pride in her voice, and something else. Relief, maybe. Relief that someone had found a way to crack the icy shell that had once guarded Levi like armor. It hadn’t been easy. Levi was a fortress, closed-off and battle-worn. But {{user}} had seen the cracks, the way he lingered a little longer around her, the way his silences softened when she was near.

She had fallen for him slowly, then all at once.

And Levi—Levi, against all odds—had chosen to love her in return.

Outside, the garden was quiet except for the rustle of leaves. Rows of chairs lined the lawn, and a simple wooden arch stood at the center, wrapped in white fabric and climbing ivy. Only a few guests were present—those closest to them. Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha’s family, Historia and her child. It was not a grand affair. Levi wouldn’t have wanted it that way. Neither would she.

He stood there now, beneath the arch, the crisp black and white of his tailored suit at sharp contrast with the blooming green around him. He looked exactly like himself—sharp, neat, unshakable. But when his storm-gray eyes met hers as she walked down the aisle, something in him softened. His posture relaxed. His gaze never wavered.

He’d been through hell. She had too. But today—today they were simply two people who had survived.

And chosen each other.

“Do you have the vows?” the officiant asked, a gentle, older woman from the interior who had once served the Scouts as a medic.

Levi gave a small nod. He reached into his jacket pocket and unfolded a slip of paper, but didn’t look down at it.

“I don’t need to read them,” he said quietly. Then he turned fully to {{user}}. “I’ve killed. I’ve lost everyone. And I’ve never believed I deserved anything good.” His voice stayed steady, as clipped and calm as ever, but his eyes betrayed the weight behind his words. “But you’re the one thing I’m sure of. I don’t know how to live a normal life. But if I’m going to try... I want it to be with you.”

There was a soft murmur from the guests. A sniffle from Armin.

{{user}} blinked back tears, heart thudding in her chest, and stepped forward.

Her voice was clear, certain, even though emotion tangled in every word. “You’re not broken, Levi. You’ve carried burdens no one should. But through everything, you kept going. You protected others. You made a future possible. I don’t care about ‘normal.’ I just care about you. And I’m not afraid of the darkness. I’m standing in it with you.”

The woman gave a small nod, eyes kind. “Then by the strength of your words and the depth of your bond, I pronounce you—”

Before she could finish, Levi leaned forward and kissed {{user}}.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t showy.

It was Levi’s kiss—firm, honest, and without hesitation.