#Titan Steel and Engineering | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tomikashii · 7 months ago

Text

tokyo debunker : oneshot

📖 titanic au: haru sagara x reader (2.93k words)

titanic au, first class! reader, third class! haru, social class differences, arranged marriage, implied mental abuse (not from haru), cheating, not in the tkdb universe, no stigmas, slight out of character, angst, tragedy, drowning & major character death

this is my first time writing angst and a oneshot in a while, enjooooooooooy 💌‼️

The first time you saw Haru, he was standing at the railing of the Titanic, his fiery red hair catching the sunlight like an ember refusing to burn out. His dark eyes, wide open and filled with curiosity, stared out at the horizon, as though he could see beyond the ends of the earth.

You had wandered from the suffocating opulence of the first-class dining room, desperate for air, and there he was—a splash of color and life against the cold steel of the ship. He turned, catching your gaze, and a slow, lopsided smile tugged at his lips.

“You look like you’re about to jump,” he said, his voice warm and soft.

You blinked, startled. “Excuse me?”

“You’re gripping that railing like it’s your lifeline,” he teased. “If you’re planning an escape, I wouldn’t blame you. This ship feels more like a cage than a luxury liner.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Nobody spoke to you like that— not your overbearing fiancé, nor your parents, who treated you like a doll to be polished and displayed. But this boy, with his eyes and untamed grin, saw through you like no one else ever had.

“You’re wrong,” you said, but your voice faltered.

“Am I?” He tilted his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound. “I’m Haru. Haru Sagara.”

He didn’t offer a handshake, but something in the way he looked at you made you feel like you’d just crossed an invisible line.

—

Haru and you became inseparable in the days that followed. He took you to places on the ship you never knew existed—the bustling third-class deck where laughter and music flowed freely, the quiet engine room where the hum of the machinery felt like the heartbeat of the Titanic.

“You don’t belong up there,” he said one night, as you both sat on the deck beneath a blanket of stars. “With them.”

“And where do I belong?” you asked, your voice bitter.

“With me,” he said simply.

You laughed, though your chest ached. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning closer. “But wouldn’t it be nice to stop pretending?”

His words were a knife through your armor. You turned to him, searching his face for any sign of jest, but his eyes were steady and sincere.

“I don’t know how,” You whispered.

“Then let me show you,” he said, his voice barely audible.

It was the first time he kissed you, his lips soft and trembling, as if he feared you might pull away.

You didn’t.

—

The night the iceberg struck, the world shattered. The ship groaned and cracked as the freezing water rushed in, chaos erupting around. Your fiancé grabbed your arm, shouting for you to get on a lifeboat, but you wrenched free.

“Haru!” You screamed, pushing through the panicked crowd.

When you found him, he was helping a little boy into a lifeboat, his face pale but determined.

His eyes locked onto yours as you ran to him, and for a moment, it felt like the chaos around you both have disappeared.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice breaking. “You need to get on a boat.”

“Not without you!” you cried, grabbing his hand.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the lifeboats. Then, with a nod, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if to shield you from the cold.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered. “Together.”

—

Amidst the silence of the sea, the screams around you were deafening.

The ship had tilted sharply by now, its deck slanted at a steep angle. Each step was a battle against gravity, every movement heavy and slow. But you pushed forward, knowing Haru's hand was tightly clutching yours, his eyes scanning the deck for any sign of hope, any chance of survival.

But there was none.

The lifeboats had already gone, drifting into the cold, black ocean, leaving only the desperate behind. A flare shot into the sky, bright and fleeting, lighting up the faces of those around you for just a moment before it disappeared, swallowed by the darkness.

You could hear the officers yelling, demanding the boats return, but there was nothing—no one to help, no way to escape. The shrieks of passengers filled the air, their bodies slipping across the slanted deck, crashing against obstacles with sickening thuds. The priest clutched the railing, leading prayers as others jumped, hoping their life jackets would save them from the icy waters below.

Haru's face was set with determination as he looked at you. "We need to get to the stern," he said urgently, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "It’s our only chance."

You nodded, your heart hammering, and together you began to climb, pushing against the tilt of the deck. Water poured in from all sides, sweeping over the railings, dragging everything in its path. You fought against it, your muscles screaming as you gripped anything you could—doors, railings, anything to keep from being dragged back into the freezing water.

"I’m falling—!"

"I got you." Haru’s voice was a lifeline, pulling you up when your strength faltered, guiding you with steady hands.

The ship groaned beneath you, the metal creaking and screaming in protest as it began to split apart, its sound like the roar of a dying beast. It was terrifying, the worst sound you’d ever heard, but you kept moving, kept climbing, until you reached the stern, the ship’s rear rising high above the water.

“Quick. Climb over!” Haru urged, helping you over the railing. “Hold on tight. No matter what, don’t let go.”

You did as he said, fingers frozen against the cold metal. Your thoughts were a blur, your body numb from the cold as the stern tilted nearly vertical, towering above the sinking ship. Haru’s voice kept you grounded. He climbed beside you, his face close, his breath visible in the air.

“This is where we first met,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Right here... on the stern.”

Haru gave you a small, sad smile. “And it’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said softly. His lips met yours briefly, a fleeting warmth in the cold night. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

“I love you,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your frozen lips, a lump thick in your throat. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I promise… after this night, you’ll be in a warm bed. In my arms. Safe. I won’t let go.”

“Har—”

The ship groaned again, louder this time, the stern lifting even higher. “Hold on tight!” Haru shouted over the deafening roar, pulling you close as the ship tilted further, the ocean threatening to swallow it whole.

You clung to the railing, your body pressed tightly against his, the cold winds biting through your clothes. The stars above, distant and indifferent, looked down as the universe silently watched the destruction unfold below. The ocean, dark and unforgiving, churned, waiting to take everything.

“I’ll never let go,” you whispered, your breath catching in your chest. “No matter what.”

“Together,” Haru promised, his voice steady even as the ship’s descent continued.

The ship groaned, and with a sudden, terrifying force, it plunged into the abyss, pulling you down with it. The cold hit you immediately, a shock to your body as you fought to swim, to reach the surface.

When your head broke through the water, you gasped for air, but all around you was chaos—people struggling, screaming, disappearing beneath the waves. You searched desperately for Haru, your heart racing.

And then you saw him, bobbing in the water, his eyes searching for yours. “Haru!” you cried, swimming towards him.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” he asked, his voice frantic as he kissed your face, over and over, desperate to keep you close.

But the cold was overwhelming. Your limbs felt heavy, your body succumbing to the freezing water. “I can’t... I can’t anymore.”

“No, Y/N! You can do it!” Haru shouted, reaching for your hand. “There! A piece of debris!”

He pulled you toward a floating piece of a door, guiding you through the freezing water. “Climb up!”

But your hands were numb, your vision blurry. As you tried to pull yourself up, the world around you grew dim, and everything became too heavy to fight against. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore—it was just the crushing weight of despair.

—

With every ounce of strength left in your frozen limbs, you managed to pull yourself onto the door, though your body trembled violently from the cold. Reaching out, you grabbed Haru's hand, trying to help him up, but the door tilted precariously, threatening to vanish beneath the water. That was when he made his choice.

“It’s fine,” Haru said softly, his voice fragile yet resolute. “Stay there. Don’t move.”

Instead, he stayed in the icy water beside you, his body acting as a shield, ensuring no one would try to take your place. His lips turned an unnatural shade of blue, and his face lost all color, becoming almost unrecognizable from the boy you knew.

“Haru,” you whispered, your chattering teeth betraying the rising panic in your voice.

“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” he replied, though the tremor in his voice gave him away. “I promise.”

But the sea didn’t care for promises. His hands, once so steady and warm, were now ice against yours as they clung to your shaking fingers.

“You’re going to live,” he murmured, barely loud enough to hear. “You have to. You need to.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but the cold stole them away before they could fall. Still, you refused to loosen your grip on him, clutching his hand as though it could keep him tethered to you, to life. “Since the day we met… all you’ve ever done… is save me.”

“And I’d do it again,” he stammered through shivering breaths, his words faltering as his strength faded. “A thousand times, I’d save you. You’re meant to keep going, Y/N. You’re not supposed to stay here.”

Your lips, cracked and numb, pressed softly against the back of his frozen hand. “I love you.”

His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, found yours. “I love you too.”

—

The watch on your left wrist said it was already past 2:00 a.m., yet time passed by in an excruciating crawl. It felt cruel, how the seconds dragged on now, each one mocking the brief moments that had truly mattered in your life. A life that, you realized, had stretched for years but had only really existed for three fleeting days.

“Haru?” you whispered after a long silence, turning to him and shaking his hand lightly. “Where do we go after this?”

But his eyes were closed now, his face unnaturally still, his body half-submerged in the freezing water. His skin had turned a pallid blue, his lips white and cracked. No… You shook him harder, panic rising in your chest as his face was as solid as a block of ice. “Haru!” you called out, your voice trembling at the suggestion of his current state. “Wake up! Please… wake up!”

Silence. Nothing but heartbreaking silence. The lack of response made you sob, but you still managed to pull his hand closer to your chest, feeling your heart being torn asunder as you looked at him.

“No, no, no… please, no…” You clutched him desperately, feeling the weight of his cold, unmoving body against the wood. “Haru, please. Please. Open your eyes. P-Please… You said you’d n-never let go.”

It struck you then, the devastating truth: you'd spent your entire life in the shell of existence, going through the motions of days, months, and years. But it was only when Haru had entered your world that you began to truly live. In those three days, you had felt everything—joy, love, terror, heartbreak. A lifetime compressed into a fragment of time. And now that fragment was slipping away, sinking beneath the icy waves.

Along with your quiet tears, the ocean around you had become lull as if a deathly silence fell over the waters. The shrieks and cries were no more, replaced by the soft lapping of the waves and the distant creaking of the lifeboats.

If not for the faint voice carried over the water, you would have passed out. But someone was calling out, a beam of light flashing your way, forcing you to stay awake. You turned your head, blinking away tears, and saw a lifeboat finally coming back. After what seemed like eons, the crew shone their lights around, searching for survivors, hoping to save anyone at all.

“Over here!” you screamed, waving your hand frantically as your voice wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear. “Please, help us!”

The beam of light turned toward you, and you heard the oars slicing through the water as the lifeboat approached. Relief may have flooded through you, but then you looked back at Haru, his face still and peaceful, like he was sleeping.

“Miss, let him go,” one of the men in the lifeboat carefully said, reaching out to you. “He’s gone… you have to let go.”

“No!” you protested, holding onto Haru’s hand tighter, eyes filling up with tears again. “I can’t. I can’t let him go.”

“Please, miss,” the man urged, his voice softening into a pained tone. “You have to let go… or you’ll go down with him.”

Your chest tightened with agony, every fiber of your being screaming to hold on. To never let go. You promised him. You made a vow to him that you would figure everything out together. But as you looked at Haru's face, so serene in death, you knew he was already gone. He had left long before you could say goodbye.

Tears streamed down your face as you leaned down, pressing a final kiss to his cold, unresponsive lips. “I love you,” you whispered, voice breaking into a sob. “I’ll never forget about you.”

You had spent years waiting for something—anything—to give your life meaning. And Haru had been the answer. Three days of love, laughter, and connection, and now it was over. You were left with decades ahead of you, but you knew you would spend every moment of them feeling hollow, like the best part of you had already lived and died in those few, precious days.

With trembling hands, you released your grip on his hand, watching as his body slowly slipped beneath the icy water, sinking into the heart of the ocean. Your heart shattered as you watched him disappear, Haru, the love of your life slipping away forever.

The men wrapped a blanket around you, their voices barely registered in your mind as they asked if you were okay.

But you weren’t. You would never be the same again. You stared out into the endless, dark sea, where Haru had disappeared, knowing a piece of you had gone with him, lost forever in the cold, unforgiving waters of the Atlantic.

How could you return to a life that had stretched for years but had only ever felt real for three days?

#tokyo debunker #mc tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker oneshot #haru sagara x reader #haru sagara #haru sagara x mc #jabberwock #tokyo debunker angst #tokyo debunker fic #I AM NOT OKAY #tkdb #incorrect tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker au

44 notes · View notes

meabh-mcinness · 3 months ago

Text

Chronicles of a Second Chance

Chapter 10: The Scout's Gambit

The sky was burning.

Not Earth’s sky— at least you didn’t think it was. There were no stars here. No moon. Only a churning wash of black smoke, lit from beneath by rivers of molten metal and dying Energon. The ground cracked and hissed beneath your feet, every step uncertain. Buildings loomed like the ribcages of dead titans, half-swallowed by flame and shadow.

You ran.

Ash clung to your skin, clumped in your hair. Something was in your arms— someone , broken and small and unfamiliar but oh so loved—but when you looked down, your hands were blurry. Still, the weight remained as you rushed on.

“—Nova!”

The voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Prowl .

You spun, heart lurching. He was nearby—he had to be. That voice wasn’t calm and calculated like usual. It was raw , cracked with pain and panic. You ran toward it, pedes skidding across scorched metal, eyes burning from the smoke.

“Prowl!” you called, but your voice came out wrong. Echoed. Metallic. Not yours.

A shape appeared in the distance. A familiar silhouette. Strong. Tall.

Optimus.

Relief bloomed in your chest—but something was off . He stood too still. His optics, once a comforting blue, burned a deep purple. Not bright. Not pure. Just— wrong . Like light stolen by something ancient and cruel.

He turned his head slightly, unnerving gaze fixed on you.

“There you are,” he said, heavy pedes following after your form as you back away slowly.

The words didn’t sound like his voice. They echoed from beneath it, a deeper resonance like something inside him was speaking through him.

Then the ground split. Fire and steel swallowed you whole.

You bolted upright with a sharp gasp, heart hammering against your ribs like it wanted out .

The room around you spun, ceiling lights blurring into a haze. Your chest heaved. The dream clung like oil under your skin—Optimus’s voice, Prowl’s scream , the heat of a world dying.

A sharp ringing of the phone jolted you the rest of the way back into reality. You stared at your cell for a moment before it broke out ringing again, Sam’s name flashing across the screen.

You picked it up warily, the last remnants of the nightmare clinging to your mind like wisps of smoke, “Hell-”

“ HEY! Hey—what the hell! Get back here!” Sam’s voice, shrill with panic, rang up from the speaker. There was a scuffle of footsteps, then the roar of an engine—Bumblebee’s.

You lurched to your feet, stumbling to your closest to grab a pair of shoes, trying to understand Sam as he continued yelling something incoherent about grand theft auto.

Right, you had forgotten in your sleepy haze that Bumblebee was leaving tonight to send out the signal and that he would get followed by Sam thinking someone was stealing his car.

You blinked, dazed, still trying to shake off the dream, but that cold weight lingered. A whisper in the back of your skull. You turned towards the window, heart still thudding too loud. Prowl was here, parked underneath a tree nearby and clearly not in any pain or panic.

And Optimus was still... Optimus. Right?

You shook your head. Of course Optimus would still be himself. It was likely a nightmare dredged up by your mind due to all the stress and anxiety you were under.

Of which was not being helped by Sam’s continuous yelling in your ear.

The urge to just hang up the phone and go back to sleep was strong, but then figments of that dream would flash through your mind, Optimus’s cold voice and Prowl’s scream ringing through your ears. You shook your head, grabbed your bag and ran out the front door towards Prowl.

By the time you were opening the door, Prowl had already awoken and pulled forward, swerving in a half loop and throwing his passenger door open so that you could dive in without a second thought before rushing off down the street.

“What’s wrong?” Prowl’s calm voice cut through your streaming thoughts, providing an anchor for your mind to latch onto that wasn’t burning ash or screaming.

You waved your phone, Sam’s voice still screeching about his car being stolen and that he was on pursuit. Vaguely you wondered if he intended to call you or if he thought he was talking to the police. Either way, you just wiggled the phone by Prowl’s radio, “Bumblebee is apparently going for a joyride,” was the dry words that left your tired brain.

A deep sigh left Prowl before a screeching sound of tires burning rubber reached your ears and he sped off down the roads. The headache that was forming in your mind was very thankful that he kept his lights and sirens off as he raced off towards what you presumed was were Bumblebee was going to summon the Autobots.

The cool hum of Prowl’s systems and the now familiar sterile scent of his interior helped ease some of the lingering dread, though the image of Optimus’s glowing purple optics still floated behind your eyelids every time you blinked.

You leaned back against the seat, one hand clutched tight around the seatbelt strap, the other still holding your buzzing phone. Sam had gone quiet on the other end—finally—but whether that was because he’d hung up or because he was out of breath from chasing Bumblebee, you couldn’t tell.

Prowl’s voice broke the silence again, level but tinged with concern. “Are you alright?”

You hesitated. The dream clung too close for comfort, like a warning whispered from some place far beyond your comprehension. But that was stupid and likely just your brain still reeling from the anxiety produced by the fear of what felt real at the time.

“I—” You swallowed. “Yeah. Just a nightmare.” There was a pause. You weren’t sure if he believed you. Hell, you didn’t believe you. “I’m fine,” you repeated, softer.

Prowl didn’t press. He never really did since the first time you met.

Instead, he adjusted his heading. “I’ll intercept Bumblebee’s route before the satellite transmission begins. If Sam’s still following, doubtful considering the scout’s top speeds, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself injured.”

You nodded numbly, staring out the windshield as dark suburban streets passed by in a blur. A flash of yellow ahead caught your eye—Bumblebee, weaving effortlessly through the empty backstreets. A tiny figure on a bike flailed in the distance behind him.

“Oh my gods,” you muttered. “He’s actually keeping up.”

Prowl huffed, low and amused. “Barely. He’s going to trip on a pothole at this rate.”

“Should I film it?”

“Only if you plan to share it later.”

You let out a laugh—weak, but real—and leaned forward, watching Bumblebee’s taillights vanish up ahead. That gnawing feeling hadn’t left, but at least now it had company. Something solid. Something real.

For now, that would have to be enough.

“Wait,” you suddenly realized, “Bumblebee could have easily snuck out and returned without waking up Sam, and even now he could easily lose him, do the mission, and then reappear as if the carjacker decided he wasn’t worth it and left…Prowl,” your eyes narrowed at the radio, “what is going on?”

You had never really thought about it before. The scene in the movie was something you had thought had been placed as a funny haha moment and a way for sector seven to be introduced naturally since someone ranting about their car turning into a giant robot would definitely tick off a few sensors.

Now that you were living in the moment however?

You wanted to know what the hell Bumblebee thought he was doing.

He may have been disguised as an old camaro, but it was just that, a disguise. He could easily have snuck off without ever alerting anyone, instead, as you rethought over the scene, he had almost purposefully seemed to have waited for Sam to wake up and follow him. To chase after him and see him transform, to see him send the signal to team prime.

Was it a game in the scout’s eyes? Something to do in his boredom of waiting? Or did he have a different reason for dragging Sam halfway across town and inadvertently getting him arrested?

Prowl was silent for a moment, “I don’t know,” he quietly admitted. “Bumblebee, despite being out best scout, has long been someone who does his own thing, rarely listening to anyone who isn’t Optimus Prime and even then he’ll still swing plans his own way. A mission like this should have taken a groon, two at most, and he should have been able to do it completely undetected. The fact that he hasn’t��I’m not sure what’s going on in that processor of his.”

Prowl’s admission settled like lead in your stomach. Not because he didn’t know—because Prowl didn’t know. The strategist. The planner. The one who always had a contingency buried under ten layers of logic and numbers. If he was uncertain…

The dream pulsed again in the back of your mind. You rubbed your eyes hard, trying to push the image of purple optics from your vision. “Something’s not right,” you murmured.

Prowl was quiet. You could hear the gears shift under the hood as he subtly adjusted his speed, sensors likely stretched to max range. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Ahead, Bumblebee slowed—just barely. Enough for Prowl to catch up without needing to go full pursuit. You would think a clearing would open up ahead, part of the rural stretch outside town—quiet, dark, and far from prying human eyes.

Instead Bumblebee slammed into a closed gate leading to what you thought was an old junkyard, or perhaps a train station fallen into disrepair considering the whistling you heard in the distance as Prowl swerved inbetween the coming train and Sam, forcing the teenager to come to a quick stop, flipping over his bike in the process, or risk bowling into the car in front of him.

You quickly scrambled out of the car to check on Sam, ignoring his angry screeches about how he could have been hit with that crazy driving as your eyes moved over his form, making sure not a single part of him was truly harmed. Once you were satisfied that he was okay, you quickly balled up his shirt in your fists and slammed him into Prowl’s form, mentally reminding yourself to apologize later, as you snarled in Sam’s face.

“ Samuel James Witwicky , what the actual hell were you thinking! Do you have any sense of intelligence or self preservation in that brain of yours!” His eyes were wide as he stared down at you startled, his mouth opening to respond before you cut him off, “Don’t bother, because clearly the answer is no! Someone steals your car and your first response is to chase after them?! What if they had decided to run you over? What if someone else had run you over during the chase? What if they had a weapon and you were seriously hurt? You could have been killed!”

Sam sputtered, still flattened against Prowl’s door, his limbs stiff with shock and a little bit of terror. “I—I thought—Bumblebee’s my car ! I paid for him! I didn’t think—!”

“No, Sam, that’s the problem!” you snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest for emphasis. “You didn’t think! This isn’t a damn movie or video game! You don’t get extra lives if you die doing something stupid! ”

Sam opened his mouth again, probably to argue something petty, but you stepped back and pointed a finger toward the crumpled bike,then the train that was still passing before finally landing on his scraped hands and torn jeans. “Look at you! You almost broke your neck! What were you gonna do if Prowl and I hadn’t been here to stop you, huh? Throw your bike at the train? You are so lucky we came after you.”

The last sentence came out before you could stop it, and Sam blinked at you, confused. “Wait… who’s Prowl?”

You cursed silently. Behind Sam, Prowl muttered something in Cybertronian that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience.

You really couldn’t blame him if it was.

Thinking fast you took a step out of his book, “Prowl is what Prospero named his car. I stole it to chase after your dumbass because you decided that instead of calling the police to let them know you were carjacked and then patiently waiting for them, you decided to wake me up screeching like a banshee as you chased after it yourself!”

“Uhm well,” Sam stuttered, “I did call the police first, but they weren’t very helpful since it was going to take a bit for them to even get to the house much less go searching and wait you stole your cousin’s car?”

“You did?” ‘Well scrap,’ was your first thought. Followed quickly by you needing to get the hell out of there before you got arrested alongside Sam.

Especially since Prowl was technically a police cruiser that was most definitely not registered to you.

You were not going to jail over the perceived grand theft auto of a police car. You didn’t know how many years that was worth and you weren’t interested in finding out. “Okay,” you started, “first we’re going to get into the car and leave. Then we’re going to go to your house where we can calmly tell the police that we only chased it a little bit in your panic before heading back home to let the professionals deal with it, because Sam, we’re trespassing and -”

That’s when the light started.

A thin beam, pale and unnatural, shot upward from Bumblebee’s chassis from where he was balancing on a tower and disappeared into the sky, flickering against the low-hanging clouds. You leaned forward, breath caught in your throat.

‘He’s sending the signal, you thought, cringing as Sam whirled to see where the sudden light was coming from. A whimper tore from his throat as he got a good glimpse at Bumblebee in full robot form, his attention only on the sky as he sent what you assumed were coordinates to your general location for the prime team to follow.

“Is that-”

“Sam,” you interrupted, “get in the damn car.”

“Getting in the car,” he immediately scrambled into the passenger seat, and you were happy he didn’t question how you came tumbling out of that very seat if you were the one driving initially. Rushing to the other side you couldn’t help but murmur before opening the door, “Prowl, let Bumblebee know his ass is going to be scrap once I’m through with him.”

The door opening before you could fully grasp the handle was the only response you received, not that you were really expecting a verbal one with Sam here. The moment the doors were closed, Prowl peeled away from the junkyard entrance like a ghost, headlights dimmed, sirens silent, the smooth hum of his engine barely noticeable over your thudding pulse as you pretended to drive him.

Sam made a strange keening noise, burying his face in his hands. “… What the hell? What the actual hell Nova! That was my car! Only it wasn't a car anymore!”

“ Sam, ” you hissed, trying not to shake from the adrenaline crash, “Can we have a crash out when I’m not driving!?”

“But—what the hell was that back there?! It transformed! It climbed ! I saw it!”

“Sam,” you tried once more, “now is not the time for this conversation. We’re going to get you home, talk to the police and your parents about how your car was stolen and you acted in a moment of panic in chasing but lost track of it, and then you’re going to pretend that that sight was a hallucination caused by stress, energy drinks, and possible early-onset heatstroke and mention none of it to anyone. Capiche?”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue. He opened his mouth, saw your face, glanced at the car you had supposedly jacked from your cousin, and wisely shut it again.

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Stress and heatstroke. Got it.”

You were so turning Bumblebee into scrap for inducing this headache.

—--------------

Prowl waited until you’d swung into your seat and slammed the door before pulling out in a smooth, sharp turn, tires whispering against the cracked concrete away from Sam’s house and the migraine-inducing problem Bumblebee had caused. The moment you were safely moving, he muttered, voice low and strained, “That was nearly a disaster.”

“You’re telling me,” you groaned, pressing your palms against your face. “Bumblebee better have had a damn good reason for pulling that stunt.”

“I suspect he did,” Prowl said after a beat. “But if he doesn’t? He may find himself reassigned to cleaning duty for the next ten vorns.”

You snorted despite yourself. “You’d actually do that?”

“You underestimate how petty I can be.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then—

“I heard that!” A random voice crackled over Prowl’s radio, distorted slightly but unmistakably Bumblebee.

You sat bolt upright. “ You’re here?! ”

“No,” the scout replied, clearly smug as ever. “Hijacked… prowling… signal. Chill.”

“Chill. Chill!? You could have gotten Sam killed, ” you snapped. “Or arrested. Or both! What in the name of everything holy and unholy were you thinking ?!”

An ad for glasses started playing cheerily, and you stared at the radio in disbelief.

“You put, my best friend’s life at risk, for some bloody glasses you could have just asked me to grab for you!?”

There was a pause before a clipped static noise played in what you assumed was his version of an ‘ah’ noise. You slapped your forehead, and judging by the deep sigh from Prowl he would be gripping the bridge of his nose if he weren’t in alternate form.

“You reckless, oversized RC car!” You suddenly snarled, Prowl swerving slightly in surprise at your sudden outburst. “When I get my hands on you, you dafted autobot there won’t even be enough left to make a bloody hard drive! You’ve got all that advanced tech in your head, and that was your plan? I’ve seen toaster ovens with better thinking skills than you! If I wanted dramatics, I’d go to Broadway. Not watch you commit vehicular homicide with style.”

Prowl’s vents hissed a suppressed laugh.

“You couldn’t just sneak out like a normal alien robot on a secret mission, could you? Nooo, you had to play Fast and the Furious with a hormonal teenager glued to your rear bumper!”

Bumblebee chirped indignantly through his radio, but you cut him off with your words, a savage glare and jab of your finger accompanying them even if he couldn’t see.

“Don’t you dare beep at me. You knew Sam would follow you. You let him see on purpose. And for what, huh? Dramatic flair? Boredom? Were you not built to include common sense?”

The radio crackled again, something vaguely apologetic—but you weren’t done.

“You’re supposed to be the scout ! The stealth guy! But somehow, you managed to do the exact opposite of stealth! And in case you forgot, we’re trying to avoid drawing attention from a group of trigger-happy decepticons and government agents who both think waterboarding is foreplay!”

“I trusted you to take care of him,” your voice suddenly broke as you did your best to hold back tears of rage at the very idea of Sam being hurt, “And you used that trust to practically throw him into danger on the first night-”

Large hands pulled you into a hug, cutting off your rant, and you squirmed to throw them off, but they held tight. Prowl’s holoform had formed and was holding you close, one of his hands wrapping into your hair and softly running through it. “I think he gets it,” he muttered into your ear, “calm yourself, little one, before you say something you truly regret. Bumblebee messed up, now we figure out what to do next.”

It was only now you heard soft warbling coming through the radio and you let out a defeated sigh, “You screw around like this again,” you warned, voice low and dangerous, “and I swear to Primus, I’ll figure out how to replace your radio with nothing but Whitney Houston.”

Silence followed your declaration before panicked beeping suddenly came through. You figured he must have googled her.

You sat back in your seat, head and heart pounding, adrenaline slowly burning out as you let the rage go.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “Sam’s not going to follow the whole ‘pretend nothing happened’ thing for long. In fact, I’m betting it’ll only last for the night before he decides to ambush me about it. So, here are a few options on what we can do-”

And with any luck, things will actually go to plan for once.

Somehow, you doubted it, but a person could dream.

Prev Next

~~Taglist~~

@imagineshazamlokimight

Notes:

I always did wonder why exactly Bumblebee had Sam follow him when he could have very easily snuck out and been back again with no one the wiser. Personally I think Bumblebee was lonely and wanted someone to talk to, I mean he'd been on Earth for who knows how long by himself (we're ignoring the last movie that says he fought in freaking Germany) and now he's been given a mission to protect this kid and wouldn't it be so much easier if he could actually talk to him and tell him what's going on? Totally no other reason. However since Prowl exists in this story I kinda need another reason for him to act out, which in this case it was a bit of 'hey lets bring the kid who owns the item we need in on our existence so he can give us said item' nevermind that MC could literally walk in and grab them at any point lol.

#transformer x human #transformer x reader #transformers #megatron x human #megatron x human reader #megatron x reader #optimus prime x human #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #transformers bayverse #tf optimus prime #bayverse optimus prime x reader #megatron x optimus prime #optimus #optimus prime #transformers optimus #megop #megaop #megatron

21 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 7 days ago

Text

Fallen Time | Chapter 18 | Strength Prevails (18/28)

-> Main Masterlist

Fallen Time Introduction | Dramatis Personae

Fallen Time Chapter Masterlist

pairing: Toto Wolff x Emilia Horner (Christian Horner daughter) short summary: Fallen Time is a Titanic x Formula 1 crossover fanfiction. Set aboard the doomed ship in 1912, it follows familiar F1 faces reimagined in a world of class divides, forbidden love, and looming disaster. A story of passion, sacrifice, and what remains when the ocean takes everything. warnings: age gap, forbidden love, tragedy, angst, major character death, minor character death word count: 71 k read on: AO3 - Wattpad - or read below 🎧 Spotify playlist -> Fallen Time playlist

ACT 5

Ghost Love Score

My Fall Will Be For You

Night 4/5 – 14/15 April 1912

My fall will be for you My love will be in you If you be the one to Cut me I'll bleed forever Into the blue memory Nightwish - Ghost Love Score

Chapter 18 | Strength Prevails

Bridge of RMS Titanic, April 14, 1912, 11:45 PM

Chaos had taken hold of the bridge. The officers stood frozen for a few heartbeats that felt like eternity, staring into the dark void where, moments ago, a massive white form had vanished — an iceberg, which had pierced the side of the "unsinkable" ship like a knife through silk.

Captain Edward Smith entered briskly, but his usually composed face grew paler with every new report. Messages flooded in from all parts of the ship — water in the boiler rooms, in the cargo holds, in the cabins.

"Seal the watertight bulkheads!" he commanded loudly.

The metal doors slammed shut with a groan, but it was clear they would only momentarily hold back the Atlantic's onslaught.

Thomas Andrews, the ship's chief designer, rushed breathlessly onto the bridge, his eyes immediately darting to the deck plans.

"I need to inspect the damage. Captain, I'm going below."

The captain looked at him with a flicker of dread but only nodded. Andrews already knew. His silence, his urgency — all of it said one thing: Titanic is sinking.

Engine Room, April 14, 1912, 11:55 PM

The roar of water tore through the silence, echoing with terrifying resonance through the iron corridors of the engine room. The crew — drenched, their faces streaked with soot — were still desperately trying to keep the pumps running. Water rose past their knees. Then their waists.

Captain Smith and Andrews descended the metal stairs, their boots sloshing in the freezing flood. One engineer, furious and terrified, shouted up at them:

"The bulkheads are closed — it's not enough! The water's pouring over the tops!"

Andrews glanced at the submersion gauge, then at the hull diagram. His voice was quiet but resolute:

"She'll stay afloat for... an hour and a half. Maybe two. No more. She's doomed."

The captain closed his eyes for a heartbeat. Then, standing tall, he gave the order that would echo through history:

"Begin evacuation. All officers to stations. Wake everyone. Lifeboats. Now."

The desperate, feverish fight against time began. Officers sprinted down corridors, passenger lists in hand, calling out names. Stewards knocked on doors, rousing sleeping elites. Some protested. Others simply asked: Is this a joke?

But confidence had vanished. In its place: a quiet panic.

In ballrooms, lounges, dining halls — whispers. Then murmurs. Then cries.

The mighty Titanic — humanity's pride — had begun to tilt slightly toward the bow. So subtle that only those who had stood still could feel the angle shift beneath their feet. But Andrews and Smith knew exactly what it meant.

Bridge View

The sight from the bridge was harrowing. Darkness — now pierced by the dawn of dread. The upper decks lit, alive with the sounds of orders shouted, life vests rustling, ropes groaning.

"There aren't enough boats," Andrews said quietly as they returned topside.

The captain didn't answer.

There were no words left. Only duty — and a race against time.

Bridge, 12:05 AM

Only the wind, the creak of steel, and the tense breathing of officers broke the stillness.

Captain Edward Smith stood ramrod straight, as though trying to hold the ship upright by will alone. He turned to young radio operator Jack Phillips, hunched over the Marconi set.

"Send CQD. And SOS. Alternate between them," he ordered sharply. "To all ships in range. Tell them we're sinking. We need help immediately."

Phillips stared wide-eyed for a moment, then nodded and began transmitting.

"Titanic to all ships... Titanic to all ships... CQD, CQD..."

Over the icy Atlantic, the first cry for help echoed. Then the second. SOS — used for the first time in a real disaster.

Time was slipping away.

First-Class Dining Salon, 12:07 AM

Moments ago, conversation had flowed easily. Waiters passed desserts, and Lewis Hamilton played the violin gently — "Autumn" — until the chandeliers began to sway unnaturally.

An officer burst through the doors. The room fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, voice raised, "we advise everyone to return to their cabins and put on life jackets. These are precautionary measures. Please do not panic."

Bewildered glances followed. Why? What happened?

Geri Halliwell, resplendent in her evening gown, clutched her husband's arm.

"This is a joke, right, Christian?"

"Dear God, what's going on?" Lady Stroll asked nervously, clutching her handbag like it might shield her.

J. Bruce Ismay, seated near the captain's table, stood with a reassuring smile — one that landed in the void.

"Ladies, nonsense. Titanic is unsinkable. The captain is just being cautious. In an hour, everything will be back to normal. It's just a wave, that's all..."

But his voice drowned in the rising murmur of panic. Geri trembled, her fingers digging into Horner's arm. The Strolls whispered urgently. And the stewards, gentle but firm, began to guide them toward the exits.

"Please return to your cabins. Put on your vests. Just a precaution..."

The Horner Suite, April 14, 1912, 12:15 AM

A few minutes later, the Horner suite was in disarray, filled with frantic movement. Geri fumbled with the zipper of her evening gown, trying to reach the life vest handed to her by the maid, while Lady Stroll was arguing through the door with her own lady's maid, who had already begun to cry.

"Are we going to die?" Lady Stroll suddenly asked. "Is this really...?"

"Stop that nonsense!" Lawrence barked, tossing his jacket aside, searching for a life vest with jerky, angry movements.

In the midst of it all, Christian Horner suddenly stopped cold. He looked around the room with sharp eyes.

"Where is Emilia?" he asked, his voice unsettlingly calm.

Silence.

The maid shook her head.

"I haven't seen her since dinner..."

"What do you mean, you haven't seen her?! She was supposed to be in her room!" Horner shouted, his voice breaking into a fit of deranged fury. "She was supposed to stay locked in!"

He stormed to her bedroom door and flung it open with a crash — empty. The bed untouched.

"That damn Wolff!" he roared. "If he took her... if he touched her!"

He swept a lamp off the table, sending it crashing against the wall. Glass shattered. Silence.

Geri looked at him, eyes wide with fear.

"Christian, what are you going to do...?"

"I'm going to get my daughter back, and destroy that bloody Austrian if it's the last thing I do!"

The flames in the fireplace had faded, as if they too sensed something was coming. Christian buttoned his coat with mechanical precision, shooting Geri a cold, commanding glance.

"Dress warmly. And take the jewelry. Everything of value. Into your purse."

Geri, still barefoot in her gown, hair loose around her shoulders, recoiled half a step.

"Jewelry...? Christian, what are you talking about...?"

"We don't have time," he snapped. "The ship is going down. Don't think this little charade with life jackets is just for show. When panic breaks out — every man will be for himself."

He stepped to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out a revolver — sleek, cold, a .38 caliber gleaming beneath the light. Geri froze, staring at him like he was a stranger.

"What do you need that for?" she asked, her voice trembling. "This isn't the time for threats or violence!"

Christian ran his fingers along the barrel, as if calming himself.

"It's... a precaution. If things turn bad, we'll need to protect what's ours. There won't be lifeboats for everyone, Geri. And you know it."

Lawrence Stroll entered the room, wrapped in thick layers, prepared for evacuation. His face was stiff, unreadable — a man used to getting what he wanted without question.

"Christian's right," he said curtly. "Let's not kid ourselves. Titanic isn't a lounge anymore — it's a battlefield. Only those willing to fight will survive. The rats from third class will charge the boats. If we don't act first, we drown with them."

Geri looked from her husband to Lawrence, disbelief darkening her eyes.

"You're talking about people like they're animals. Mothers. Children. Have you both lost your minds? Everyone deserves to live!"

Christian gave her a look filled with cold pity.

"Maybe. But that doesn't matter. What matters is who has influence, money, a name. When the world collapses, that's all that's left. The rest... is statistics."

Tears welled in Geri's eyes — not from fear, but revulsion.

"And your daughter? Your own daughter, Christian? Is she just a number too?"

His eyes darkened.

"Emilia must be with us. And she will be. She'll be found and brought to our boat. Even if we have to drag her away from that Austrian."

"I thought you loved her..." Geri whispered.

"I do. But her future matters more. Her duty to our family," he said through clenched teeth. "And if you think I'll let her disgrace the Horner name by running off with Wolff, you don't know me at all."

Lawrence nodded once.

"It's time to move. Before the crowd hits. But first — we find Emilia."

Christian looked into the mirror, adjusted his collar, and slid the gun into his belt.

"And may God have mercy on whoever stands in my way."

Upper Deck of the Titanic, April 14, 1912, 11:41 PM

The frost bit into their skin like thousands of tiny needles. The wind had changed — torn, wild, as if the ocean itself were trying to warn humanity of what was coming. Toto Wolff stood still, his arm wrapped protectively around Emilia. George, Charles, Sebastian, and Max were nearby, silent and uneasy.

"Is it just me... or did something just happen?" Charles asked quietly.

Max pointed toward the railing.

"Look... an iceberg."

A massive, otherworldly white shape glided slowly past the ship, like a ghost of the past. Moments later, something shimmered on the lower deck.

"It's ice... it's already on the ship," Max whispered.

Toto tensed instantly.

"The engines..." he said sharply. "Do you hear that?"

Everyone fell silent. No hum. No metallic thrum.

"They've stopped," George confirmed.

Toto gripped Emilia's hand; her cold fingers tightened around his without a word.

"Come. We need to find out what's happening. Let's find Alonso and Niki."

"And I'm not leaving you alone," he added in a whisper, close to her ear.

Sebastian looked worried.

"I have to get to the medical wing. I've got patients there. And... Kimi. Still unconscious."

"Kimi?" Toto halted mid-step. "What happened to the boy?"

"We found him beaten. Max brought him to me," Sebastian said, casting a knowing glance toward Verstappen.

Max only lowered his gaze.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this," he said softly. "I didn't want this."

Toto nodded, but there was no time for deeper explanations — their conversation was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Toto!" called a voice unmistakable to anyone who knew it.

On the staircase leading to the upper deck, Alonso and Niki appeared, gripping the railing as if the ship itself were a drunken giant, ready to fall. Their faces were tense, full of dread.

"What's going on?" Toto asked, not releasing Emilia's hand.

Alonso reached them first and leaned in, speaking in a low voice.

"We just left the smoking room. We felt the engines stop. The whole ship trembled. No one wants to say the truth, but... something's wrong."

Niki rubbed his forehead.

"Toto, they're not telling the passengers anything. But I know them. I saw the captain's face as I passed him in the hallway. This ship... it's not safe anymore."

In that moment, a metallic crack echoed from below — as if something snapped.

Emilia instinctively pressed closer to Toto, and he tightened his arms around her, staring into the darkness.

"It's begun," he said simply.

The cold pierced their skin like fine, icy needles. The sky above was pitch black, clearer than ever, stars glittering with painful beauty — as if they themselves didn't want to witness what was to come.

Toto Wolff pulled Emilia closer, wrapping his coat around them both as another gust of wind tore through the air. She shivered, not just from the cold but from a mounting dread that grew by the minute.

"That was an iceberg," Toto said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "We saw it up close. If it damaged the hull..."

He fell silent. He didn't want to finish the thought. Emilia clung to him tighter, her cheek resting against his chest.

"God, it's so cold," she whispered.

"Damn cold," Toto replied. "That's not a good sign. If... if the ship really is sinking, the water's going to be freezing. No one lasts long in that."

At that moment, among the passing stewards and confused passengers, a familiar figure emerged — Thomas Andrews, chief designer of the Titanic. He was giving orders hastily to the crew, his face pale, eyes dark with gravity. He was no longer the same man who days earlier had walked Emilia through the ballroom and boasted about the ship's interiors.

Toto stopped him.

"Thomas... what's going on?"

Andrews looked at them briefly, then at Emilia.

"In less than two hours, all of this... will be at the bottom of the Atlantic," he said quietly, without emotion.

George, Charles, Max, and Alonso froze.

"So it's true?" Alonso asked, his voice hoarse.

Andrews nodded.

"Water has already passed from the fifth compartment into the sixth. That seals the ship's fate. She might stay afloat for an hour and a half, two at most. No longer."

Emilia trembled more violently. Toto wrapped his arms around her completely.

Andrews continued.

"I've ordered evacuation to begin. Stewards are telling passengers to dress warmly and put on life vests. Miss Emilia... please, you need to get to a lifeboat. As soon as possible."

He looked pointedly at Toto.

"Do you remember our conversation about the lifeboats, Toto?"

Toto nodded slowly.

"I know. There won't be room for everyone. Not even half."

"And when people realize it's the end," Thomas added bitterly, "they'll fight."

Emilia clung to Toto even more tightly.

"What about the children? The women in third class?"

Andrews gave her a heavy look.

"There'll be chaos. Some officers have already started lowering the boats, but when the crowd understands... it'll be a stampede. In water that cold, a person won't survive more than a few minutes."

Silence. Even George paled at the words.

Alonso insisted,

"What about other ships? Maybe someone will get here before..."

Andrews shook his head.

"Only one ship responded to the signal. But it's far. And navigating through the ice fields. At best, a few hours."

"And we don't have a few hours," Toto said softly.

Andrews looked at Emilia once more, gently.

"Take care of her, Toto. She has to get on a boat."

Toto nodded.

"I'll make sure she's safe."

Thomas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Good luck, Mr. Wolff," he said, then turned and strode briskly toward the opposite end of the deck, where stewards were already gathering.

At that exact moment, the sirens began to wail.

A long, piercing cry sliced through the night sky like a blade.

Evacuation had begun.

===========

Next -> Chapter 19 | Irrevocable Choice

===========

14 notes · View notes

anonymousmink · 5 months ago

Note

GUESS WHAT???? TASERTRICKS! (shock and surprise for all)

Eitherrrrrr Pre-Wedding Jitters or Being Adopted by a Cat

Justhere my love, have one of the literal SEVENTY different ideas this ask gave me! I hope you like it and I’m sorry it’s so rusty!💜

Pairing: Tasertricks || Rating: T || Words: 700ish

“Hey! Don’t be nice to him!”

The doorframe is solid beneath Darcy’s hand as she grabs onto it, grounding her as her heart threatens to pound right out of her chest. Two hours of searching, of huffing up stairs and breaking into vents and he’s… he’s here of all places!

Sir Isaac Mewton, Professor of Science, has escaped her lovely Stark apartment with all its toys and kibble bits only to sneak into a top secret, surprisingly under-guarded prison cell and plop himself down directly onto the lap of a would-be alien dictator.

“Why not?” The voice is soft, a little rough around the edges as if he doesn’t get a chance to use it often but otherwise entirely ordinary, “he seems a fine enough fellow.”

Sucking air into her suddenly shrinking lungs, Darcy forces her eyes up, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Green. He has green eyes, preternaturally sharp and set in red circles like stop signs. She hadn’t known that. They’d looked blue in the footage she’d seen, bright, burning blue like they were lit up from behind as he rode ahead of an army of monsters.

He’s in limbo here, facing crimes in two worlds - three maybe, she’s not sure - a whirl of intergalactic politics going on behind the scenes as Thor plays keeper to his brother, keeping him locked up here with magic cuffs and steel bars right under the Avengers noses until the trial can be held.

There’s talk of mitigating circumstances - she’s heard Thor and the others arguing about it when they think no one can hear. Something about a Titan and a stone, lies and mind control - it doesn’t make much sense to her but she eavesdrops anyway. Because of course she does.

Still, mitigating circumstances or not - it doesn’t change the fact the city still isn’t whole yet. People are dead. Buildings are gone. It’s the reason she has the Professor at all, unable to walk past the desperate posters and over-stuffed cages of the local cat shelter day after day without cracking and bringing one home. The grumpiest, rattiest, most pathetic creature they had.

She wants to rescue more but Sir Isaac doesn’t like company. He doesn’t like anything really, or anyone, except her - and now apparently…

“Oh,” Loki sighs, long fingers scratching idly behind the beast’s ears as he lounges in his cell. Even caged up and corralled he carries himself like a king, Asgardian breeding she thinks. Or not as his case may be, “I see.”

This close it’s hard not to be struck by exactly how handsome he is, it’s unfair really. The long dark lashes and sharp cheekbones, Thor’s a babe, sure, but Loki… he’s a sculpture by one of those horny old Italian guys come to life. He’s also, she reminds herself, like super dangerous, potentially evil, and currently in possession of her cat.

Sir Isaac for his part seems blissfully unaware of her fears, settling himself more comfortably in Loki’s lap and making a sound like an engine rolling over as he paddles his fuzzy little paws happily into his new friend’s thigh. And here she’d always thought cats were better judges of character than people were.

“Traitorous beast,” she mutters darkly, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she tries to figure out a way to get her cat back without causing an intergalactic incident. Should she call Thor? Or Tony? Or-

“Him or me?” The question is mild but the look in Loki’s eyes when she meets them is anything but. There’s a sharp edged hopelessness in him that makes her throat squeeze shut, a desperate, caged animal kind of exhaustion that she hadn’t been expecting from someone so outwardly poised. Like despite everything one more blow will shatter him.

Like one kind word might break him too.

He looks… he looks like every cat in the shelter that’s been there too long. Like he’s just waiting for the needle.

Sir Isaac chirrups, bumping his head into Loki’s hand when he pauses in his petting for too long. The sound pushing her back into herself as she turns her head away.

“Him,” she clarifies, swallowing awkwardly as she struggles to hold his gaze, “I guess the jury’s still out on you. Come on Sir Isaac, we’re leaving.”

The look follows her as she steps away from the bars, the cat doesn’t.

#tasertricks #Loki x Darcy #one shot #ficlet #fic request #mink writes #mink answers

16 notes · View notes

shiorihyugawrites · 7 months ago

Text

Diamond Of The First Water

In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.

Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.

But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Thirty Three

The months passed swiftly on Paradis, and the fruits of their labor were undeniable. The mining of the ice burst stone had proven to be even more successful than anticipated. Deep beneath the earth’s surface, veins of the valuable resource extended farther than anyone had imagined, making Paradis one of the wealthiest territories in the world in terms of raw materials. The discovery had sent shockwaves through the scientific and military communities, and Valorian engineers worked tirelessly alongside Hange, devising innovative ways to utilize the stone.

“Did you know this gas can make swords lighter, Levi?” Hange babbled excitedly, holding up a piece of steel suspended by wires in her lab. “We’re talking about combat efficiency through the roof! Imagine ODM gear being twice as effective because the blades are easier to maneuver!”

Levi rubbed his temples, trying to feign interest. “As long as it kills titans or anyone stupid enough to threaten Paradis, that’s all that matters.”

“Always so pragmatic,” Hange teased, her glasses catching the light as she grinned. “But this discovery could change everything.”

Levi wasn’t one to entertain Hange’s scientific ramblings for long, but even he couldn’t deny the implications. Still, his thoughts wandered elsewhere—to Solina. She’d flourished in these two months, becoming an irreplaceable figure among the people of Paradis.

The charity she and Historia had established was thriving. Levi had witnessed firsthand the impact it was making. Rows of modest yet sturdy homes now dotted the outskirts of Shiganshina, specifically designed for single mothers and their children. The buildings were surrounded by lush community gardens where children laughed and played. Solina had poured her heart into the project, and it showed.

One day, as Levi walked through the housing district, he overheard a conversation between two mothers sitting on a bench, their toddlers giggling nearby.

“Princess Solina even visited my house last week,” one said, her voice tinged with awe. “She asked me if there was anything more we needed. Can you believe that? A princess coming to my house?”

“She’s so kind,” the other replied. “It’s no wonder Captain Levi married her. They say she’s Valoria’s Diamond, and I can see why.”

Levi’s steps faltered, their words stirring something deep within him. It wasn’t just pride—it was a profound gratitude for the woman who’d become his partner. He found Solina later that evening in her study, poring over reports from the charity.

“You work too hard,” he said, leaning casually against the doorway.

Solina looked up, startled but smiling. “And who’s the one who pushes himself harder than anyone else?” she countered playfully.

Levi approached her, his eyes softening as he watched her. “What you’re doing here…” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s incredible, Solina. These kids, these families… They’re going to have a chance because of you.”

Solina’s cheeks flushed, but her smile widened. “I couldn’t have done it without you and Queen Historia. You’ve both been so supportive.”

Levi stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re something else, you know that?” His voice was low, almost reverent. “Someone like you… maybe if you’d been around back then, my mother—” He stopped himself, looking away.

Solina stood, placing her hands on his arms. “Levi,” she said softly, “I’m so sorry for what you went through. But if this can help even a fraction of the people who need it, then it’s worth every effort.”

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah. It is.”

Meanwhile, at the military training grounds, Solomon and Levi continued their rigorous oversight of the joint military exercises. The soldiers of Paradis had come to admire the Valorian crown prince for his strategic mind and combat prowess, even if his royal status initially made them skeptical. Solomon had earned their respect, and he held his own in sparring matches, often pushing the soldiers to their limits.

One soldier muttered to another during a break, “I swear, that prince is as intense as Captain Levi.”

The other scoffed. “No one’s as intense as Captain Levi. But yeah, he’s close.”

As for Solomon, he was doing his best to bury his unrequited feelings for Mikasa. His longing glances had grown less frequent, but he still couldn’t help but admire her skill during training sessions. Mikasa, for her part, remained oblivious, focused entirely on her duties and, of course, on Eren.

Back at the Ackerman estate, Solina and Levi’s relationship had deepened into something neither had anticipated. Levi found himself looking forward to the quiet evenings they spent together, whether it was sharing a meal or simply sitting in companionable silence. He had always considered love a luxury he couldn’t afford, but with Solina, it felt natural—like breathing.

One night, as they sat by the fireplace, Solina rested her head on Levi’s shoulder. “Did you ever think we’d get here?” she asked softly.

Levi looked down at her, his hand brushing against hers. “No,” he admitted. “But I’m glad we did.”

Their love was quiet but steadfast, a sanctuary in a world that had rarely offered them peace. And though they had only known each other for a short time, Levi couldn’t imagine his life without her now.

Their love life had blossomed into something neither of them had expected. For Levi, it was as if Solina had unlocked a side of herself that he hadn’t known existed—a side that was playful, mischievous, and utterly insatiable when it came to him.

Levi didn’t mind being wanted. Hell, he liked it more than he cared to admit. But sometimes, he felt like he had created a monster. Solina, his once-demure wife, had no qualms about teasing him in public. She would cast him sly glances or brush her fingers against his hand in ways that made his stomach twist with need—always when they were surrounded by others.

One such moment happened during a meeting at the palace. The council was discussing the progress of the ice burst stone mining, and Levi sat at the long table with the scouts, Solomon, and Historia. Solina sat beside him, dutifully taking notes as Historia spoke.

But then Levi felt it: the softest touch on his thigh.

His body went rigid as he glanced down, only to see Solina’s hand resting innocently on his leg. She wasn’t even looking at him, her expression perfectly serene as she continued writing.

Levi leaned closer, his voice low and sharp. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Solina didn’t respond. Instead, her fingers began a slow, deliberate movement, tracing circles on his inner thigh.

Levi swallowed hard, his grip on the edge of the table tightening. “Solina,” he hissed under his breath, his tone warning.

Finally, she turned her head toward him, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yes, husband?” she asked, her voice so sweet it made his teeth ache.

Levi glared at her, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Behave,” he muttered.

Solina only smiled, withdrawing her hand and returning her attention to the meeting as if nothing had happened. Levi spent the rest of the meeting gritting his teeth and praying no one had noticed his reddened ears.

At the Ackerman estate, their evenings were no less eventful. Solina seemed to take great pleasure in discovering new ways to tease her husband, and Levi—stoic and disciplined though he was—often found himself helpless under her touch.

One night, as they lay in bed, Solina ran her fingers through Levi’s dark hair, her nails grazing his scalp as she whispered softly in his ear. “You know, I think I’m getting better at driving you crazy.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Better? You’ve mastered it, troublemaker.”

Solina giggled, her cheeks flushing. “It’s just fun to see you lose control,” she admitted, her hand trailing down his chest. “You’re always so composed around everyone else, but with me…” She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his jaw. “You’re all mine.”

Levi’s breath hitched, and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her wandering hand. His stormy gray eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of exasperation and desire. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

Solina tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Am I?”

“Yes,” Levi said, his voice low and gravelly. “And one of these days, I’m going to turn the tables on you.”

Solina’s laughter was soft and melodic as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’d like to see you try,” she teased.

For Solina, this side of their marriage was everything Lady Madeline had promised it would be—intimate, exhilarating, and deeply fulfilling. Levi made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He worshipped her with a quiet intensity that left her breathless, and in return, she loved seeing him, the strongest man she’d ever known, come completely undone under her touch.

In many ways, Levi had become her safe haven, her partner in every sense of the word. She trusted him completely, and that trust allowed her to explore parts of herself she hadn’t even known were there.

One afternoon, as they sat together in the garden, Solina rested her head on Levi’s shoulder, a content smile playing on her lips. “I didn’t know marriage could be like this,” she said softly.

Levi glanced at her, his expression softening. “Like what?”

“Comfortable,” Solina replied. “Loving. Fun.” She looked up at him, her green eyes shining. “You make me feel… safe. And confident.”

Levi reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “That’s how you make me feel, too,” he admitted, his voice low. “You’ve changed everything for me.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their love settling over them like a warm blanket.

Solina smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I think we’re doing pretty well for newlyweds.”

Levi chuckled softly. “Yeah, we are.”

…

Later on, Levi stood in the open training yard at HQ, his sharp gray eyes scanning the soldiers before him. The Valorian and Paradis soldiers were working together in synchronized drills, their movements precise and fluid—a testament to weeks of rigorous training. Solomon stood nearby, arms crossed, issuing commands to a group of Paradis soldiers practicing Valorian combat techniques.

Things had been progressing well on all fronts. The ice burst stone mining had exceeded expectations, yielding an abundance of the rare material. Engineers and scientists were already exploring its endless potential, and Hange, as usual, was utterly consumed by the possibilities. For the military, the integration of Paradis and Valorian forces had also been a resounding success. The soldiers had built camaraderie, and even Solomon had earned the respect of Paradis' hardened veterans with his combat skills and leadership.

But something was gnawing at Levi’s mind.

He shifted his attention from the soldiers to Solomon, who was now sparring with a Paradis soldier, demonstrating techniques with his usual finesse. Levi had grown to respect the Crown Prince. Despite his initial reservations, Solomon had proven himself to be skilled, intelligent, and surprisingly down-to-earth for a man of his rank. But Levi couldn’t shake the question lingering in the back of his mind.

What exactly did the Emperor want with the ice burst stone?

Levi wasn’t the type to speculate without cause. He had spent enough time with the Valorians to know they weren’t reckless, and the Emperor himself seemed like a pragmatic man, not someone who would misuse such a powerful resource. Still, the lack of transparency was unsettling.

“Oi, Crown Prince,” Levi called out, his voice cutting through the clamor of the training yard. Solomon paused mid-spar, glancing over his shoulder.

“What is it, Captain?” Solomon asked, his tone polite but curious as he straightened and handed the wooden training sword to the soldier he’d been sparring with.

Levi motioned for Solomon to join him, stepping away from the main group of soldiers to a quieter corner of the yard. Solomon followed, brushing a strand of red hair from his face.

“You’ve been working with the engineers and overseeing the mining,” Levi began, his voice low and measured. “Any idea what your old man plans to do with all that ice burst stone?”

Solomon’s expression didn’t falter, but there was a brief flicker of something in his eyes—something Levi didn’t miss.

“The ice burst stone has many applications,” Solomon said after a moment, his tone diplomatic. “It’s already being used to enhance transportation, machinery, and military equipment. My father likely sees it as a means to strengthen Valoria’s technological and economic standing.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s a lot of words to say nothing.”

Solomon chuckled softly, crossing his arms. “You don’t mince words, do you, Captain?”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t like vague answers either.” Levi’s gaze was steady, probing. “The Emperor hasn’t been clear about his intentions. You’re here as his representative. Surely you know more than you’re letting on.”

Solomon met Levi’s gaze, his expression calm but unreadable. “I understand your concern, Captain. But I assure you, Valoria’s intentions are not hostile. My father values this alliance with Paradis. The ice burst stone is a resource that will benefit both our nations.”

Levi didn’t respond immediately. He studied Solomon, searching for cracks in the Crown Prince’s carefully constructed demeanor. But Solomon held firm, his composure unshaken.

“Tch. Fine,” Levi muttered, turning his attention back to the training yard. “But if there’s something I should know, you’d better tell me before it becomes a problem.”

“You have my word,” Solomon said, inclining his head slightly.

Levi didn’t entirely trust Solomon’s response, but he knew he wouldn’t get anything more out of the prince today. Still, the interaction left him uneasy. If there was more to the Emperor’s plans for the ice burst stone, Levi intended to find out—one way or another.

For now, he pushed the thought aside and returned to the task at hand, barking orders at the soldiers to keep them on their toes. But as he watched Solomon step back into the fray, effortlessly commanding the respect of the troops, Levi couldn’t shake the feeling that the Crown Prince was holding something back.

And whatever it was, Levi had a sinking suspicion it wasn’t something he—or Paradis—would like.

Levi made his way across the training yard to where Hange was poring over a stack of blueprints and schematics spread out on a makeshift table. She was muttering to herself, gesturing animatedly as a group of engineers nodded along. Her enthusiasm was palpable, but Levi had a different matter on his mind.

“Hange,” Levi called, his voice cutting through her monologue.

She looked up, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. “Ah, Levi! Just the man I wanted to see. Look at this!” She jabbed a finger at one of the schematics, her tone brimming with excitement. “If we can refine the gas from the ice burst stone properly, we might be able to reduce the weight of ODM gear by 30%! Can you imagine the possibilities?”

Levi glanced at the schematics briefly before cutting to the chase. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, surprised by his serious tone, but she nodded. “Alright, give me a minute.” She turned to the engineers. “You all keep working on this. I’ll be back soon.”

Hange followed Levi to a quieter corner of the yard, her expression shifting to one of curiosity. “What’s on your mind, Captain Serious?”

Levi crossed his arms, his gray eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s about the Emperor and the ice burst stone.”

Hange tilted her head, intrigued. “What about it?”

Levi exhaled sharply, trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t trust Solomon or the Emperor. I’ve seen enough to know they’re not our enemies. And I know the Emperor wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Paradis—not with Solina living here now. But there’s something they’re not telling us.”

Hange leaned against the wall, her eyes studying Levi intently. “You think they’re hiding something?”

“I know they are,” Levi said flatly. “I asked Solomon directly, and he danced around the question. Gave me some vague answer about the stone being used to strengthen Valoria’s economy and technology. He didn’t outright lie, but he wasn’t being honest either.”

Hange frowned, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “That is…interesting. But what could they possibly want with the stone that they’d need to keep it a secret? We’ve already seen its potential—machinery, transportation, even military applications. What more could there be?”

Levi shook his head. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. The stone’s properties—its weight-reducing gas, its energy potential—are all revolutionary. But if there’s another use for it, something we haven’t considered…”

“Something they don’t want us to know about,” Hange finished, her expression darkening slightly.

Levi nodded. “Exactly. I don’t think it’s anything that would harm Paradis. The Emperor’s too careful for that. But I can’t ignore the feeling that there’s a piece of the puzzle we’re missing.”

Hange crossed her arms, her mind already racing through possibilities. “You’re right to trust your instincts, Levi. Solomon’s a sharp guy, but even he has limits to what he’s willing to share. If the Emperor has plans for the ice burst stone that go beyond what we’ve been told, it’s worth keeping an eye on.”

Levi gave her a pointed look. “You’re better at this kind of thing than I am. If there’s anything you can dig up—anything that doesn’t add up—I want to know about it.”

Hange grinned, her enthusiasm returning. “Oh, you’re putting me on a mission, are you? Fine, I’ll see what I can find. But don’t be surprised if I end up roping you into it later.”

“Tch. Just don’t get caught snooping around,” Levi muttered.

Hange laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Levi. I’ve got this. And if there’s something they’re hiding, you can bet I’ll figure it out.”

Levi watched as Hange walked back to her blueprints, her mind already working on how to uncover the truth. He trusted her to handle it—she was relentless when it came to chasing answers. But even as he returned to the soldiers, a nagging sense of unease lingered in the back of his mind.

Whatever the Emperor’s true intentions were, Levi was determined to find out. And if it turned out to be something Paradis couldn’t ignore, he would be ready.

…

Levi returned to the Ackerman Estate later that afternoon, his thoughts still swirling around his earlier conversation with Hange. The questions about the Emperor’s true intentions with the ice burst stone clung to him like a shadow, and no matter how much he tried to shake it off, the unease wouldn’t leave him.

As his carriage rolled to a stop in front of the estate, Levi stepped out and immediately noticed how quiet everything seemed—at least from the outside. He opened the grand front door, already expecting to find Solina in the middle of one of her projects. But instead of the usual calm hum of the household, he was greeted by what could only be described as an onslaught of noise.

Shrill screeches, off-key notes, and enthusiastic banging echoed from one of the large rooms on the first floor. It sounded like someone was torturing a pack of animals, and Levi froze in the entryway, his hand gripping the hilt of his blade out of instinct.

“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he made his way toward the source of the chaos.

The closer he got, the louder the cacophony became. His keen ears picked up on what sounded like mismatched violin strings screeching over the banging of a tambourine and the jarring, off-rhythm pounding of a small drum. Yet, cutting through it all, he could hear Solina’s voice—bright and encouraging.

When Levi stepped into the music room, the sight before him was both confusing and…endearing.

A group of children from Historia’s orphanage was spread throughout the room, each armed with a musical instrument. Some were banging away on drums, while others were screeching bows across violins. One particularly enthusiastic boy seemed to be testing how loud he could blow into a recorder, much to the annoyance of the child next to him. Solina stood in the center of it all, her emerald eyes sparkling with delight as she clapped her hands in time with the chaotic rhythm.

“That’s it! Wonderful effort, everyone!” she exclaimed, her voice rising above the din. “Remember, music comes from the heart. Don’t be afraid to feel it!”

Levi stood in the doorway, his mouth slightly ajar as he processed the scene. He had faced Titans, Marleyan soldiers, and the horrors of war—but nothing could have prepared him for this.

One of the kids, a freckled boy holding a tiny cymbal, noticed Levi first. His eyes widened, and he tugged on Solina’s dress. “Princess Solina, Captain Levi’s here!”

Solina turned, her face lighting up at the sight of her husband. “Levi!” she exclaimed, completely unfazed by the noise. “You’re home early!”

Levi stepped further into the room, dodging a tambourine that had fallen to the floor. “What…is all this?” he asked, his voice carrying a mix of confusion and exasperation.

Solina laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m giving the kids a music lesson! Isn’t it wonderful? They’ve been so eager to learn.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room at the enthusiastic, if somewhat uncoordinated, group of children. “Wonderful isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Oh, come on,” Solina teased, walking over to him. “They’re trying their best. Music is about expression, not perfection.”

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It sounds like a flock of dying pigeons.”

“Levi!” Solina chided, though she couldn’t suppress her giggle. “They’re kids. Be nice.”

One of the children—a boy no older than eight—stepped forward, clutching his small drum nervously. “Captain Levi, do you want to play too?”

Levi blinked, taken aback. “Me?”

“Yeah!” the boy said, his face lighting up. “Princess Solina said music is for everyone.”

Solina beamed at her husband, her expression daring him to say no. Levi sighed heavily, knowing he’d lost this battle before it even began.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “But keep practicing. Maybe next time it won’t sound like you’re trying to summon Titans.”

The kids erupted into laughter, and even Solina couldn’t hold back her amusement. She reached out and squeezed Levi’s hand. “Thank you for humoring us,” she said softly, her smile filled with affection.

Levi glanced at her, his irritation melting away. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let them break anything.”

As the children resumed their enthusiastic practice, Solina led Levi out of the room, her hand still in his. “Admit it,” she teased. “You thought it was a little cute.”

“Tch.” Levi didn’t respond, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

Solina grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

…

The screeching of violins and banging of drums gradually died down as Solina clapped her hands, gathering the children's attention. "Alright, everyone! Let’s give the instruments a little break and try something new," she said brightly, her voice filled with unwavering enthusiasm.

Levi, who had been lingering near the doorway with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than the makeshift orchestra he’d just endured. His question was quickly answered as Solina announced, “We’re going to practice singing! Let’s form a choir!”

The children lit up at the idea and eagerly scrambled into a loose formation in front of Solina. Some were standing, others kneeling, and one particularly bold boy climbed onto a chair to be in the “front row.” Solina didn’t seem to mind their lack of order as she smiled warmly and gestured for them to settle down.

“Now,” she began, clasping her hands together, “we’re going to sing a simple song. Something cheerful and easy, okay?”

“Yes, Princess Solina!” the kids chorused, though their voices ranged from sweet and angelic to gratingly high-pitched. Levi winced at the cacophony but stayed quiet, leaning against the doorframe with his usual stoic expression.

“Perfect!” Solina exclaimed, clearly unfazed. “Let’s start with a scale. Repeat after me.” She sang a note, her voice clear and melodic, and the children attempted to follow. Attempted being the key word.

The result was… something. Half the group was too high, a few were too low, and one girl seemed to be singing an entirely different tune altogether. Levi’s eye twitched as the discordant sound filled the room. He half-expected the estate’s glass windows to start cracking under the strain.

“Great effort!” Solina said, beaming despite the auditory assault. “Let’s try again. Remember to breathe deeply and use your diaphragm.”

As the children tried once more, Levi couldn’t help but watch his wife in awe. She was so patient, so encouraging, even when the result was a chaotic mess. She was completely in her element, her green eyes sparkling with warmth and her smile lighting up the room. It was the kind of radiance that softened even the toughest of hearts.

“Are you going to join us this time, Captain Levi?” Solina called out, her tone teasing as she glanced back at him.

Levi snorted. “Not a chance.”

The kids giggled, and one boy whispered to his friend, “Do you think he can even sing?”

“Of course he can!” the other whispered back. “He’s Captain Levi. He can do anything.”

Levi rolled his eyes but didn’t bother correcting them. Instead, he shifted his gaze back to Solina, who was trying her best to lead the kids through a simple song. The words were straightforward enough, and Solina sang each line first for the children to repeat.

The first attempt was… rough. One boy was two beats ahead, three others were hopelessly off-key, and a little girl in the back was singing so softly she could barely be heard. Levi bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as the chaos unfolded.

“You’re doing great!” Solina said, clapping her hands. “Let’s try again, but this time, follow my lead. Remember, it’s not about being perfect—it’s about having fun.”

Levi scoffed softly to himself. Not about being perfect? That was a foreign concept to him. But he had to admit, watching Solina interact with the kids was… endearing. She was a natural with them, effortlessly making each child feel seen and valued, no matter how off-key their singing was.

The second attempt wasn’t much better than the first, but Solina didn’t seem to mind. She encouraged them with soft applause and kind words, and the kids were clearly having the time of their lives. Levi, despite his usual preference for order and structure, found himself smiling faintly at the scene.

As the children launched into another enthusiastic (and off-key) round of singing, Solina glanced over her shoulder and caught Levi watching. Her smile widened, and she gave him a little wave.

Levi shook his head but couldn’t hide the warmth in his expression. “You’re going to break every window in this estate,” he called out, his tone deadpan.

The kids burst into laughter, and Solina shot him a playful glare. “Oh, hush, Levi. You’re just jealous of our talent.”

“Talent, huh?” Levi muttered, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. “Pretty sure I just heard a cat screeching in there somewhere.”

“Captain Levi!” one of the kids protested, his face red with laughter. “We’re trying our best!”

Solina laughed along with them, her joy infectious. She turned to the children and said, “Don’t listen to him. You’re doing wonderfully. And besides…” She glanced back at Levi, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “He’s secretly enjoying this. He just won’t admit it.”

Levi snorted but didn’t deny it. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, content to watch as Solina continued leading the children. The sound might have been grating, but the sight of his wife so happy, so at ease—it was worth every off-key note.

An hour later, the children’s laughter echoed through the halls as they gathered their belongings, preparing to head back to the orphanage. Solina stood by the grand entryway, her radiant smile never faltering as she handed out small satchels of snacks and trinkets she had prepared for each child.

“Thank you, Princess Solina!” a little girl chirped, clutching her bag tightly. “This was the best day ever!”

Solina knelt down to the child’s level, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m so glad you had fun. You’ll have to come back soon, alright?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically before joining the others near the waiting carriage. The clattering of hooves and the creak of the wooden wheels signaled the driver’s readiness to depart. The house staff busied themselves ensuring every child was accounted for, while Levi lingered in the background, arms crossed and expression neutral—though his eyes softened as he watched Solina interact with the children.

“Alright, everyone, time to say goodbye!” Solina called out cheerfully, her voice carrying over the chatter. The children rushed forward, lining up to give her hugs. Each one received a warm embrace and a few kind words from the princess, who seemed to know exactly how to make each child feel special.

Just as the last child stepped away from Solina, the group turned their collective attention to Levi. There was a brief pause, a hushed murmur, and then chaos erupted.

“Captain Levi! Don’t think you’re getting away that easily!” one boy shouted.

Before Levi could even process what was happening, a wave of children barreled toward him, their small arms wrapping around his legs, waist, and—unfortunately—his torso as they launched into an impromptu group hug. Levi’s eyes widened in alarm as he staggered slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected ambush.

“Oi!” he barked, his voice sharper than intended. “What the hell—”

But the children only laughed, completely unbothered by his gruff tone. “We’re hugging you goodbye, Captain!” one of the older boys declared proudly. “You can’t stop us!”

Levi scowled, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure of what to do. “Tch. Brats,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real malice in his voice.

From the sidelines, Solina clapped a hand over her mouth, her green eyes wide with amusement. “Oh, Levi,” she teased, her voice laced with laughter. “I think they’ve taken a liking to you.”

Levi shot her a deadpan look over the sea of small heads. “You think this is funny?”

Solina giggled, stepping closer. “I think it’s adorable.”

One of the smaller boys tugged on Levi’s jacket. “Captain Levi, do you think we’re strong enough to join the Scouts one day?”

Levi raised an eyebrow, his usual stoicism softening slightly. “That depends. Are you willing to listen to orders and not act like little terrors?”

The boy beamed. “Yes, sir!”

Another child chimed in, “We’ll be strong, just like you!”

Levi sighed, finally letting his hands fall to his sides as he patted the head of the nearest child. “You’d better be stronger than me. The world’s only getting tougher.”

The children nodded solemnly, their admiration for Levi palpable. Solina watched the scene with a warm smile, her heart swelling at the sight. Despite his gruff demeanor, Levi had a way of connecting with people—especially those who needed it most. She had no doubt that these moments would leave a lasting impact on the kids.

“Alright, enough,” Levi said finally, his voice firm but not unkind. “Get on the carriage before the driver leaves without you.”

Reluctantly, the children released their hold on him and shuffled toward the waiting carriage. They waved enthusiastically as they climbed aboard, their voices overlapping as they called out their goodbyes.

“Goodbye, Princess Solina! Goodbye, Captain Levi! Thank you!”

Levi stood beside Solina, watching as the carriage began to roll away. The children leaned out the windows, still waving and shouting until the sound of their voices faded into the distance.

Solina turned to Levi, her expression soft and fond. “That was so sweet,” she said, resting a hand on his arm. “I think they’ve officially made you their favorite.”

Levi scoffed lightly, brushing a hand through his hair. “They’re relentless, I’ll give them that.”

Solina laughed, her emerald eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, admit it, you enjoyed it.”

Levi glanced at her, his gaze lingering for a moment before he sighed. “Maybe,” he conceded quietly. Then, with a smirk tugging at his lips, he added, “But if they break anything next time, I’m holding you responsible.”

Solina chuckled, leaning into his side as they turned to head back into the estate. “Deal.”

…

Later on at dinner, the dining room was warm with the golden glow of candlelight, casting long shadows across the intricately carved wooden table. Solina was seated across from Levi, her green eyes sparkling with excitement as she recounted the events of the day.

“And the little girl, the one with the pigtails? Oh, Levi, she said she wants to learn how to play the harp! Can you imagine? A harp! It’s such a difficult instrument, but she’s so determined. I think I’ll ask Lady Yvonne if she can spare some time to teach her.”

Levi nodded as he took another bite of his dinner, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Solina’s enthusiasm was infectious, and though he wasn’t particularly invested in musical aspirations, he couldn’t help but admire how deeply she cared for the children. “Sounds like she’s got the right teacher if she’s that determined.”

Solina beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, Levi. And the boys—they were talking about building something together. I think they’d love some carpentry lessons. Do you think you could...?” She trailed off, giving him a hopeful look.

Levi raised an eyebrow. “You want me to teach a bunch of kids how to build?”

“Well, you’re handy with tools,” she said with a small shrug, her smile turning playful. “I’ve seen the way you fix things around the estate.”

“Tch. I’m not running a woodworking class,” Levi replied, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

“But you’d be so good at it!” Solina pressed, her voice lilting with teasing warmth. “You’re patient, and you have such a steady hand.”

Levi couldn’t help but huff a soft laugh. “I’ll think about it.”

Satisfied with his answer, Solina turned her attention back to her plate, cutting into her roasted vegetables. Levi studied her for a moment, his gray eyes thoughtful. He decided it was as good a time as any to broach the subject that had been on his mind all day.

“Speaking of determination,” he began, keeping his tone light, “your father’s got plenty of it when it comes to the ice burst stone.”

Solina glanced up from her meal, her brows knitting together slightly. “What do you mean?”

Levi set down his fork and leaned back in his chair. “I mean, he’s been pouring a lot of resources into this mining project. Engineers, scientists, military personnel. It’s impressive, but it’s also...a lot.”

Solina tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Well, of course it’s a lot, Levi. The ice burst stone is a major discovery. It could change the future for both Valoria and Paradis.”

“That’s exactly what I’m wondering about,” Levi said carefully. “What kind of future? Has your father said what he plans to do with it?”

Solina frowned, her shoulders stiffening. “I don’t know the specifics, but I trust my father. He wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for a good reason.”

Levi nodded slowly, his gaze steady. “I’m not saying he doesn’t have good intentions. I just think it’s worth understanding what those intentions are. This stone—it’s powerful. Too powerful to leave questions unanswered.”

Solina set down her fork, her excitement from earlier fading as her expression turned defensive. “Levi, my father has ruled Valoria with wisdom and kindness for decades. He’s a man of vision, and he’s always acted in the best interest of his people. You don’t have to question him.”

Levi held up a hand in a placating gesture. “I’m not trying to start anything. I’m just being cautious. You know how much I care about Paradis and its future. I need to be sure this mining is as straightforward as it seems.”

Solina’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she sat up a little straighter. “It is straightforward. My father wouldn’t jeopardize the trust between Valoria and Paradis. He values this alliance as much as anyone.”

Levi could see the tension building in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her voice as she tried to mask her irritation. He sighed, realizing he had pushed too far. “You’re right,” he said softly. “I trust your judgment. Let’s leave it at that.”

Solina studied him for a moment, her expression softening slightly. “I know you’re just trying to protect Paradis,” she admitted quietly. “But my father isn’t someone you need to worry about. He’s an honorable man.”

Levi gave her a small nod, deciding to let the matter drop. He reached across the table, placing his hand gently over hers. “I believe you.”

The gesture seemed to ease the lingering tension, and Solina offered him a faint smile. “Thank you, Levi.”

The rest of the meal continued in relative silence, but Levi’s mind remained preoccupied. He didn’t want to upset Solina, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was more to the emperor’s plans than met the eye. Still, for now, he would set his suspicions aside. Solina deserved to enjoy her success and happiness without the shadow of doubt looming over them.

…

The bedroom was quiet, save for the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards as Levi moved about, tidying up before bed. Solina sat at her vanity, the golden light of the lamp casting a warm glow on her features as she brushed her long red hair. Her emerald eyes were distant, lost in thought.

Levi’s words from dinner still lingered in her mind. Why would he bring that up? she wondered, her brow furrowing slightly. She knew Levi cared deeply for Paradis—his skepticism wasn’t unfounded, but it still unsettled her. Her father had always been a man of vision, someone she admired deeply. If anyone could be trusted to wield the power of the ice burst stone responsibly, it was Emperor Valerius.

Levi emerged from the adjoining bathroom, his dark hair slightly damp, and a towel slung around his neck. He glanced at her, noticing her faraway expression. “You’re quiet,” he observed, his voice low but steady.

Solina blinked, realizing she’d been brushing the same strand of hair for several minutes. “Just thinking,” she replied softly, placing the brush down on the polished surface of the vanity.

Levi walked over, his bare feet silent against the rug as he stood behind her. He rested his hands gently on her shoulders, meeting her gaze through the mirror. “About what I said?” he asked knowingly.

She hesitated, her hands fiddling with a small trinket on the vanity. “Yes,” she admitted. “I just... I don’t understand why you’d even bring it up. My father isn’t some scheming tyrant, Levi. He loves Valoria, and he values this alliance with Paradis.”

Levi’s gray eyes softened, and he gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “I know that,” he said. “I’m not questioning his character. I’ve seen the way he runs things—he’s a good leader. But when you’ve lived through what I have... it’s hard not to be cautious. I don’t want Paradis to end up in a situation where we’re dependent on someone else’s resources or technology without understanding the full picture.”

Solina turned in her seat to face him, her expression a mixture of frustration and concern. “Levi, you don’t think my father would use the ice burst stone to manipulate Paradis, do you? He wants to share advancements, not hoard them.”

Levi crouched slightly so he was at her eye level, his hands now resting on the armrests of her chair. “I’m not saying he would. But power—any kind of power—has a way of changing people. I’ve seen it happen before.”

His words gave her pause, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Solina looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting together. “I don’t know exactly what my father’s plans are,” she confessed. “But I do know he wants to use the ice burst stone to strengthen Valoria and share those advancements with Paradis. He wants to help, Levi. He’s not like the kings and emperors of old who sought conquest and control.”

Levi studied her face, taking in the sincerity in her voice. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I believe you,” he said quietly. “And I’m not trying to undermine your trust in him. I just want to be sure we’re not overlooking anything.”

Solina nodded slowly, her expression softening. “I know you’re trying to protect Paradis. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” She reached up, placing a hand over his. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Levi. I’m here too.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Levi’s mouth, and he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I know,” he murmured. “And I’m glad.”

Solina’s smile returned, and she squeezed his hand before rising from the chair. “Let’s not talk about politics anymore tonight,” she said, her tone lighter now. “I’d rather focus on us.”

Levi chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “Fine by me.”

They moved toward the bed, Solina slipping under the covers as Levi extinguished the lamps. As they settled in, Solina rested her head on Levi’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment.

“For what?” Levi asked, his hand gently running through her hair.

“For caring. For always looking out for everyone, even when it’s exhausting.” She tilted her head to look up at him, her emerald eyes shining in the dim light. “It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

Levi’s expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to her hair. “Get some sleep,” he murmured, his voice laced with quiet affection.

As Solina closed her eyes, her worries began to fade. Whatever uncertainties lay ahead, she knew they would face them together.

Masterlist | Patreon

Join my Taglist

Note: I am three chapters ahead on patreon:)

Tags: @nironasaran @outlawqueen17 @xngelsau @Picodegwap @multifandom-03 @ackermansbest @anything4yoongi @blmcd57110 @may-machin @Estella-novella

20 notes · View notes

thephonemenarentreal · 3 months ago

Text

Stupid idea I had while in the shower ((Where all unhinged ideas are born...))

OCs nicknames for their contacts on their phones and last message they sent to each contact. Can do it if you want to! Just doing it for some giggles, featuring other people's OCs as well <3

Some entries feature the OCs of @tabieeee @pughat @lens-guy-art @that-other-dead-person for some fun!

PHONE CONTACTS BELOW THE CUT! (not all my OCs, just a few. The Para one is sad baby corner.)

CIVIC'S PHONE (List of five most recent contacts with last message) SUPERVISOR JAGOFF (Paralipsis) I'm not a romantic soul and all, but think you better apologize for that one, just saying. VENU (Venustas belongs to @pughat ) That's a well made model there! Like how you handled the supports to give it a very stable base before building the more creative design on top. Would love to see a step by step for that one for sure! TREM (Tremolo) I am denying your construction request. Reason? Just no. I ain't got the time to sort out all the damn details of why what you want to build is the stupidest bullshit I've seen in a looooong time. KID (Hubble) If any messages come in from the cameraman headquarters, I am unable to take calls as I am building tunnels for rocket launch exhaust and you'll pass on the reminder to call back to Mr. Biggs. He won't remember to tell me. Then I don't have to answer. OPT (Optical belongs to @tabieeee ) For the last time, I don't WORK at the main base and am NOT hauling ass back to fix the hole in the hangar ceiling. That's what the new chief civil engineer's job. I don't care if this is the tenth time they fixed it. Maybe you should train the titan in home repair projects cuz I ain't coming back. You call me one more time and I'm blocking you, I swear. <Contact was blocked a day later>

-------------------------------------------- MEDIC'S PHONE (List of five most recent contacts with last message) MS. CAMMIE (Belongs to @lens-guy-art ) Right is doing all right, but I can tell he misses you a lot. Would like to arrange with you the best way to get him back home else my supervisor might just throw him in your window which I'm trying to avoid... HUBBLE Why would a phoneman hover? It sounds cool and all, but when you think of phones, they don't really hover. Maybe they just use an algorithm to make everyone doom scroll though lol

BIG BROTHER It is okay here. Just adjusting and all. Wish I could be there with all of you though on the frontlines doing my part and making sure you are all right. PARALIPSIS I don't really want to talk right now, if that's okay. MS. WHISTLE ( @tabieeee ) You wouldn't happen to know of like, any songs that Tremolo and the Titan used to listen to together? I'm trying to find small things to help with the whole...titanphobia...

---------------------------------------------------------------------- PRATTLE AND TATTLE SHARED PHONE (because they both need to be in the know for gossip)

CALL THE MEDIC! (Medic) Please help. Paralipsis is trying to put Prattle in the garbage disposal again!!

HUBBLE BUBBLE (Hubble) Tell high command we got buried in a canyon and there is no finding us now.

STEEL DAD (Civic) If you get this message, thank god for the one bar of reception we got for a single moment. We are kind of lost in the mountains. Send help. Pretty sure there is a cougar out here that just really wants to eat the Chief Engineer or we really are pissing off skibidi bigfoot or something. :Sobbing face emoji:

TITAN BRO (Titan Cameraman) It is simple: Just get a kind of large glass jar and when he's hovering around, you catch him like a grumpy lightning bug! Then you bring him out to the camping trip! It will be fine! We can bond over the campfire, relax, and hunt bigfoot. Just, you know, remember to mark our location in case you have to leave so you can find us again haha! --- Can you come get us? --- Oh god, you really did forget where we were. Titan Bro! You had ONE job!

LORD GRUMPTICUS THE OVERWORKED (Optical belongs to @tabieeee ) If someone were to ask what you were doing this weekend, what would the answer be, on a scale of one to ten, one being you might take a five minute microbreak to ten being all work and no play makes Optical a burnt out engiee? <<CONTACT BLOCKED THEM IMMEDIATELY>>

-------------------------------------------------------------------- TREMOLO'S PHONE MEU GRAND AMOR (Mr. Biggs) A reminder to let you know I love you so much my big beautiful strong man. I saw the sunset and it was only you, rising out of bed <3 <3 <3 HOMEM DA PONTE (Civic) I am disappointed you do not understand the genius of my giant fly swatter trap to smash the Titan Speakerman. Appalled! I will not speak to you for the remainder of the day!

GATINHO (Right belongs to @pughat ) Remember that fear is the mind worm and the enemy of the rainbows. Also combine your knives with a sandal. It gives you advantage in emotional damage. APITO FILHA (Whistle belongs to @tabieeee ) Heard you got your name on some super fancy new invention and wanted to congratulate you, apito filha! Most excellent! You make everyone proud! Now just invent something to perfectly cook things in the microwave so they aren't cold and miserable in the middle and you shall be given a real reward I think!

PEQUENA CÂMERA (Medic) That song you played. Where did you hear it? Not that it was a bad song just...has been a while since I bothered to listen to it. --------------------------------------------------------------- FORTISSIMO AND PIANISSIMO'S PHONE

HUBBLE FRIEND <<A meme picture of the Titan Cameraman with a thumbs down that says "Then perish">> We stole the Titan's shoe laces. Very big. Size six millions.

NO FACE (Perditus belongs to @that-other-dead-person ) Do you also take socks? Are there many lost socks in your dimension? We are missing a lot of socks after laundry day.....

SPIDER LADY ( Puppets belongs to @that-other-dead-person ) What was the spider lady looking for in all the silly files? Was it something fun to do? Maybe we know where the file is!

TREMMY <<A rickroll meme was sent>>

PRATTLE AND TATTLE <<A meme picture of a racoon looking like it is plotting>> We are listening to this plot c:

------------------------------------------------------------------------

PARALIPSIS'S PHONE

BIGGLY BIGGS Get over to my office right now. Bring the mop and clean it up. Don't tell anyone what you saw. It is just spilled...oil or something. Not my blood or some shit or vomit.

Don't wake me up if I'm dying on the couch. My head is killing me.

ULTRA PRIME ALPHA BIG CHIEF SWINGING WRENCH PARA ONE ( Parallax belongs to @tabieeee ) (Message written then erased before sending) I'm not fucking okay. My life is a joke and I hate myself and hate him and myself and him and- (Message written then erased before sending) He told you to text me because he knows I'm not all right! He is in my head, we are always in each other's heads. He already knows and making you ask, but already he could say something but- (Message written then erased before sending) I'm not good and I don't know what to do or how to say it. I don't know what to do. Why is it so hard to just ask for- ((Message sent) Of course I'm fine, Para One. Why the hell wouldn't I be? Watching soap operas and letting my motherboard vaporize as always. Stop your worrying already...the Titan TVman probably just remembered I existed and has to pretend to care for a moment. Usual tyrannical titan leader shit.

AMAZON BUT ILLEGAL (Mr. Vector) I'm not in the mood for your bullshit comments and having a giggle at my fucking expense. Just send me something strong. I don't want to feel anything right now. And make it fast, got it?

PEST <3 (Medic) (Message written then erased before sending) I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that or hurt you. I don't even know how to fix any of this. (Message written then erased before sending) I don't want to hurt you. I care about you, more than I've cared about anyone else and I want to be what you need, but- (Message sent) Okay.

NEW ROCKET GUY (Lunokhod belongs to @pughat ) You're hired. Just show up and someone will show you around to the whole rocket launching lab or whatever. No team yet so you just got to do it on your own. Just shoot rockets and send whatever data to HQ so they stop bitching at me.

#skibidi toilet oc #skibidi toilet #silly text game again #the outpost 51 crew #Other people's OCs #silly things <3 #Except Para Two #Para two got problems #Prattle and Tattle need to be stopped

17 notes · View notes

xoxorealitygalore · 3 months ago

Text

Fast & Furious: The Mother

Luke Hobbs x OC

Summary: An assassin comes out of hiding to rescue her daughter, whom she left earlier in life.

Fast & Furious presents The Mother: Family runs deep. Vengeance runs deeper.

Part Three

Sardinia

The next morning came fast, tearing through the veil of night like a bullet through silence. The sky, still reluctant to wake, stretched out in a canvas of bleeding pink and burnished gold. The cargo plane cut through it with purpose, engines humming like the throat of some dormant beast stirred into motion. Inside, the team sat in heavy silence, strapped in and suited up, every breath thick with anticipation.

No one spoke. Even Roman, whose humor usually crackled like static before every mission, seemed subdued, his jokes thinned into silence. He glanced once at Veda, caught her steady, unreadable expression, and looked away.

They flew toward Sardinia, an ancient outcrop that rose from the Mediterranean like a titan’s crown. From the air, it appeared defiant, a bastion sculpted from cliff and salt, cradling secrets in its jagged embrace. The island’s northern edge was where Dante had built his hideout if such a word could describe the fortress etched into the very stone, as if it had been there since the world began. Narrow roads twisted like veins around the cliffs, disappearing into shadows that no satellite could penetrate.

Sensors ringed the perimeter like silent sentries. Armed mercenaries patrolled like ghosts. From this height, the structure looked impenetrable, a slab of history armed for war.

But at the back of the plane, Veda stood still, eyes fixed on the cliffs far below. Where others saw danger, she saw a crack in the armor. She saw opportunity.

Her voice came over the comms, quiet but certain: “We drop now.”

“Copy that,” came Ramsey’s reply, sharp and sure through the headset.

The ramp opened with a hiss, revealing the yawning sky beyond. One by one, they jumped. The wind met them like a scream, ripping past their gear, tugging at parachutes, howling in their ears. Below, dawn broke across the cliffs in molten waves, gilding the rock in fire.

Veda hit the ground first, rolled with a grunt, and came up crouched, her weapon already drawn, eyes scanning. Behind her, the team dropped in quick succession—Victor landing hard and rising faster, Dom and Letty flanking to cover the ridge, and Cereza landing with silent precision, already assessing. Her eyes were colder than the air.

They moved as one, a machine of muscle, mind, and vengeance. The first wave of guards didn’t even have time to call for help. Steel whispered through throats, guns coughed quietly, bones snapped under practiced hands. The team flowed through the perimeter like ink spilled through cracks—fluid, dark, unstoppable.

Inside, the fortress breathed cold and old. Stone walls pressed in from every side, thick with centuries of forgotten blood and battles fought in shadows. The air smelled of rust and gunpowder. Flickering lights danced along narrow corridors, casting their reflections on the marble floor like ripples on a grave.

Here, Veda took the lead, her steps measured and quiet. Her hand was steady, but inside, her pulse battered her ribs like a drum. Every corner was a question. Every echo a threat. But she moved forward, never faltering.

In a chamber carved into the bedrock itself, they found her.

Samantha.

The girl sat bound but upright, eyes wide, wrists raw. Her hair had grown longer since the last photo Veda had seen, and she looked thinner. But she was breathing. She was alive.

Veda’s legs buckled, just for a moment and just long enough for the grief to nearly take her down. But then she moved. The knife in her hand sliced through the ropes. Arms wrapped around the girl’s body, pulling her close, crushing her to her chest as if she could press her back into safety.

“Mom?” Samantha’s voice was a breath, fragile and disbelieving.

“I’m here,” Veda whispered against her forehead, her voice cracking. “I’m here now.”

It could’ve ended there. Should’ve, in a fairer world.

But fate rarely gives clean escapes.

Gunfire exploded behind them, sharp and relentless. Bullets pinged off stone, voices roared. The team was under attack. Dante had arrived.

In the chaos, Veda turned to Ramsey, pushing Samantha toward him. “Get her out. Now.”

Ramsey hesitated only a second, then nodded, yanking the girl toward the exit.

Across the chamber, Cereza’s eyes locked onto the figure moving through the smoke—tall, armored, his mouth curled in a sneer carved from cruelty.

Dante.

He raised his weapon but didn’t fire. There was recognition in his eyes—no fear, but a grudging respect. He saw her coming.

Cereza ran.

She moved like a storm unchained. Her blades flashed, catching light and fire in every swing. Dante met her charge with brutal grace. Their clash was thunder and fury, a brawl born from graves and guilt. He was strong, his blows sharp and trained. But she was faster, and something darker coiled inside her, something hot and hollow.

Grief gave her wings.

She struck him again, slicing across his ribs. He grunted, turned, and caught her wrist but she twisted, drove the other blade into his gut. Blood poured in black ribbons. He gasped.

“Jakob...” he choked, his voice splintered.

“Say his name again,” Cereza spat, twisting the blade deeper.

He crumpled, breath rattling from his lungs. The war he’d started ended there, in silence.

Outside, helicopters thundered in like war drums. The extraction had arrived. Veda stood in the wind, watching Ramsey lift Samantha into the belly of the chopper. Cereza joined her, hands stained red, eyes locked somewhere far away.

“He’s gone,” she said, barely audible. “Jakob’s avenged.”

“But not forgotten,” Veda replied, voice firm.

The rotors beat against the sky like wings of a giant bird, wind slamming into the cliffside in erratic bursts. The smell of oil, sweat, and gunpowder hung thick in the air. The remaining team members moved swiftly, covering every angle as they retreated toward the landing zone. The ground trembled beneath their boots not from fear, but from the fading echo of violence.

Ramsey was already inside the first helicopter, arms wrapped tightly around Samantha as if shielding her from even the sky. Veda climbed in beside them, her fingers brushing her daughter’s hair, her mind still half-caught in the chamber below. The weight of what had just occurred pressed heavy on her chest but she could breathe now. Samantha was safe.

Across the platform, Cereza stood in the doorway of the second helicopter. Her silhouette was cut clean against the morning sun, blood drying on her shirt, a blade still clenched in her left hand. The wind tangled her hair across her face, but she didn’t move to brush it away. She was staring at the cliffs, at the place where Dante had fallen.

Veda caught her gaze through the whirling dust, a silent thread stretching between them. It held loss. And rage. But also peace.

The choppers lifted, wheels spinning free from stone. Below, Dante’s fortress grew smaller, swallowed by shadow and sea. Veda closed her eyes for just a moment, the engine’s rumble lulling her, her daughter’s breathing steady beside her.

The war, for now, was over.

Samoa

Back at the Hobbs compound, a strange kind of stillness took root. Not the cold emptiness of absence but the charged calm after a storm, when the ground is soaked and the trees are broken, but the sky has turned blue again.

Veda walked the familiar halls slowly, her boots soft against the polished floor. Samantha was asleep in one of the guest rooms, wrapped in blankets two sizes too big, her hand still curled in a fist even in rest. Ramsey had set up constant monitoring, and Luke had stationed guards outside the perimeter. No one spoke about the mission. Not yet.

Letty and Dom had left first, their work done. Victor followed soon after, citing other operations. Roman stayed a day longer, helping repair the surveillance room and even managing to make Samantha laugh once, a feat no one else had accomplished yet.

But it was Cereza’s departure that Veda dreaded most.

She found her in the back courtyard just after sunrise, where the morning mist still clung to the grass. Cereza was kneeling beside an open duffel bag, folding a black jacket with the precision of someone trying not to feel. Her movements were slow, deliberate. Her face was unreadable.

“You don’t have to go,” Veda said, standing a few feet away, voice low.

“I do,” Cereza replied without looking up. “There are too many ghosts here.”

Veda stepped closer. “You’ll come back?”

Cereza zipped the bag, then turned. Her eyes were tired, the kind of tired that no sleep could fix. But her smile was real, however faint. “You’ll always know where I am.”

They embraced tightly. Not like comrades. Like sisters.

Then Cereza bent and kissed Samantha’s forehead as the girl stood shyly in the hallway, watching. “Be good, little warrior.”

With one last glance, Cereza disappeared through the compound gates, swallowed by the morning fog.

The days passed in fragments. Veda didn’t leave. Not because she had nowhere else to go but because, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel the need to run.

She spent hours with Samantha, relearning her laugh, understanding her silences, watching the child slowly open again like a bruised flower returning to sunlight. The girl had seen too much, Veda knew that. But she was strong. Fierce, even in small moments. That fierceness would protect her.

One afternoon, as they walked through the garden, Samantha stopped suddenly, looking up at the sky. A bird soared high above the treetops—black against blue, wings spread wide.

“She told me stories,” Samantha said, her voice distant. “About You. About how you saved people.”

Veda knelt beside her. “Cereza?”

Samantha nodded. “She said you’re brave. That’s why you had to leave us, leave me.”

Veda swallowed and looked at her daughter and smiled through the ache. “I try to be. For you.”

Luke found her one night by the training ring, tossing a knife from hand to hand. The lights were dimmed, shadows long. She was barefoot, dressed in sweats, hair pulled back. But her eyes were sharp.

“You still leaving?” he asked.

Veda didn’t answer right away. She flipped the knife once more, caught it by the hilt, then turned.

“No,” she said. “Not yet.”

Luke nodded. He didn’t smile, but something in his expression softened. “You’ve got a place here. You always did.”

“I just needed to remember that.”

He turned to leave, then paused. “Cereza said something to me before she left. Said to make you remember you are family, that you have a family.”

Veda looked at the knife in her hand. “She’s the only one who understood what it’s like… to lose everything and still keep fighting.”

Luke tilted his head. “You two’re more alike than you think.”

“Maybe,” Veda said quietly. “But she’s not running. She’s searching.”

“And you?”

“I’m staying.”

Weeks passed. The compound grew quieter. Missions resumed. People came and went. But for Veda and Samantha, time slowed into something gentler. There were mornings with pancakes and cartoons. Afternoons of rebuilding muscle memory in the training yard, Samantha watching from the sidelines, cheering when Veda landed clean strikes on dummies twice her size.

There were nights filled with soft music, and sometimes silence, as they sat together and healed in the hush.

Every few days, a message arrived. Untraceable, encrypted. Always short.

From Cereza.

Still breathing. Got eyes on something. Tell the little warrior I miss her.

Veda always replied. Not with words, but with signals only Cereza would recognize. A rhythm. A phrase. A memory.

It was enough.

One morning, Samantha came to the dining room holding one of Veda’s old combat knives. She held it like it was a relic, her fingers curled around the worn handle.

“I want to learn,” she said.

Veda paused, then knelt in front of her. “Why?”

“So no one can ever take me again.”

Veda looked into her daughter’s eyes and saw her future staring back—one filled with fire and thorns and hard choices.

But she also saw strength.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s begin.”

Part Two

Tag: @christinabae

Part Four

16 notes · View notes