#papa leonhardt

[tsukidrama]

I'm just imagining Papa coming to the kitchen and doing a double take when he sees this 4 year old.

He awkwardly says hello and looks at the reader asking for an explanation.

Reader pats him the back and says "congratulations you're a Grandpappy now!"

[prev]

poor man, he never has any idea of what's going on until after it already happens.

while Annie is putting the kid to sleep, he's ranting to her wife: "what the hell? i'm used to her coming home with new cats every now and then but this is a person! she brought home an entire human being. who does that?!"

"...gee, i wonder?"

he keeps going on completely unaware of how oblivious he's being, genuinely not realizing the irony of it all. Annie thinks it's so funny that she doesn't let anyone correct him.

[evilsquirrelstuff]

i had an explanation for this but it’s worse than the post

why are my edits perfect blackmailing material?

[kyojinofbraveos]

After 66 chapters, more than 5 years, Mr. Leonhardt finally made an appearance, this time we were able to get a full glance of him.

This was our first meeting with him.

Chapter 33.

After the basement reveal, first one, it didn’t took too much of an effort to figure out Annie’s father first wanted his daughter to be chosen as one of Warriors but then realized what he did was an awful, awful mistake after it was too late. So he asked his daughter one promise, that she’ll come back no matter what happens.

We thought he may be a Revolutionist, a kung-fu teacher and what else but he ended up being a an average looking sassy man that uses a walking stiff. 

Look how dissatisfied he looks when he sees Kalina and how the word “honor” is in commas. He is at Villi’s play because he is curious about what he is gonna reveal, not because he thinks this is an “honor” like Kalina does. 

He is quite sulk when Villi is telling the story of RBAM. 

Actually if you look at all his panels, the only time he is giving a different expression is that one panel he is talking about Annie. Like father like daughter, right?

Could it be that the only hope he’s holding onto is actually long gone or his daughter will be back to him and keep her promise?

[leonhardtannie]

[marsbutterfly]

Drabble: What's In Your Mouth? - Annie Leonhardt x Reader

Warning: suggestive language.

She sits on the chair, legs crossed one of top of the other as she silently allows you to place the black blindfold over her eyes. She straighten her back and laces her own fingers together, a little nervous to ask what are you planning on doing.

Eagerly, you open the box in front of you, fingers carefully gliding above the contents as you finally choose the pink one with what seems to be glitter all over it.

A devious smile on your lips as you bring it up to her lips, asking for her permission to place it inside her mouth, Annie nods and opens it up, a nervous sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Now close." You say and it sounds more like a demand than a request. She obliges. "Good girl."

Her teeth grinding through the surface and a few delighted hums making their way past now shut lips, you can tell she is delighted by the texture of said item. She smiles and you pull it away.

"Well?" You inquire, hoping that she would enjoy it.

"That's a strawberry donut with white sprinkles, duh." She says and hooks her fingers underneath the edge of the blindfold, pulling it away. "My third favorite kind."

"You're too good at this." You respond and she snorts, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

Papa, who only paid attention to the first part of the conversation, now stands in the living room, traumatized. He tries to shift focus back to his book but his wide eyes refuse to pay attention to anything else.

"I need to move out."

[perfectackeracy]

Any theory/spec on why Isa hasn't reveal anything about papa Leonhart? Who he could really be?

Pretty sure we’ll see him soon. He was the cause for Annie to return to Librerio, no matter what, so I guess he must have held a great influence on Annie’s early life. From the spinoffs and that piece of flashback, he looked like he held a training ground. Probably a martial artist teacher, whose art is the pride of the family.

From what Annie described, her father had ideals that had nothing to do with reality, making him sound like a mix between Reiner and Eren. An idealist thinking “if I make my daughter learn these moves, I can finally open my dojo and my technique to the world!!”.

The 13 years limit was probably the factor making him realize he shouldn’t have used Annie to further the Leonhart pride. I’m curious to see him in his current state. 

[anya-grace]

Yogurt

Summary: Levi and his daughter in an online class.

Word Count: 568

Rating: General Audiences

“Papa, ompen! Ompen!”

Levi tried to keep a straight face as his two-year-old daughter practically shoved a sealed cup of yogurt on his face. He doesn’t know how she got inside his home office. Let alone, how she got herself a cup of yogurt from the kitchen.

On the other side of the screen, however, Braus and Springer are dying of laughter. Yeager and Kirstein are trying to stop the two which, as always, resulted in an online fight in the chat box (and Ackerman would always try her best to stop them). Arlert and Reiss looked like they were about to piss their pants off. Braun and Hoover disconnected. And Leonhardt is late as always.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his daughter still hitting his face with the yogurt. Nothing good ever happens in an online chemistry class.

“Oi,” the chaos stopped, Braus and Springer’s giggles are mildly audible now, “Want me to give you a whole semester's worth of assignments?”

There are groans and then, a silence. But his daughter decided that biting the cover of the yogurt with her baby teeth is the best course of action at the moment. The yogurt exploded on his face, and it spilled on his shirt.

There was a fit of laughter again on the other side of the screen, louder this time. His daughter smudged more of the yogurt on his face, giggling and clapping her little baby hands while doing so. How could he be angry when his little bundle of joy is smiling like that?

The door to his home office opened, and his wife entered. The laughter died on the other side of the screen. Levi was thankful Petra took the time to wear a robe because he remembered the satin dress she wore last night. That’s not something teenagers should see. Petra’s face is mushy and bare, but she still looks beautiful. He doesn’t have the time to admire his wife though, he has a class to teach.

When Petra saw him and their daughter, who is now smearing yogurt on his keyboard, she giggled.

“Oh, there you are.” She took the baby from his lap and pinched her cheeks. “Look at you. My little baby.” She kissed the child’s forehead.

Thank fuck. Levi appreciated that Petra is handling the kid now.

“Papa! Papa!” The child clapped her hands again. There was yogurt on Petra’s robe now. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“And look at you,” this time Petra’s attention was on him. Or rather to his shirt with yogurt. She smiled at him meaningfully.

Her one hand was cradling their daughter, while the other, she smudges the yogurt more on his chest and she gave him the look. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“Want to continue last ni–“

“Petra.”

“What?”

His head throbbed, something below throbbed, and he gripped her hands.

There was a sound of someone clearing his throat. It was Yeager. Petra turned her face to his computer and Levi saw as the realization hit her. Her cheeks blushed and her mouth opened.

“Oh. Oh.”

Yes. Oh. Now his students saw him getting beaten by his daughter, a yogurt being smudged on his face, and his wife suggesting sex in the morning.

Maybe he should just let his students answer a semester worth of assignments rather than having an online meeting next time. Yeah. He’d do that.

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

I have no idea what's happening or what's gonna happen anymore but I'm happy Annie and Papa Leonhardt at least got to meet

[flailingkittylover]

Perfect

[Archive of Our Own]

Summary: “I just had a thought,” Armin taps his chin then points at his wife, “Since you asked me to do this to you, can you really complain?”

“Yes, I can,” Annie snaps, “Now either figure out a way to painlessly get this baby out of me or go away.”

Characters: Armin Arlert, Annie Leonhardt, Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman, OC

A/N: I needed some LIGHT these chapters are killing me. So have some floof and Papa-Min.

But @kepobaka I mostly blame you for this. >;| I saw your latest upload and went “:O...hmm, I should dust off my Armin POV dad-fic…”

“Whoa...” comes the admiration from the small boy next to Armin. He stands on his tip-toes, scanning over the table dotted with steaming or syrupy breakfast delights. “All of it smells good.”

 “I’d hope so!” Armin chirps. He sets the last plate of his culinary hard work in the table’s middle then takes off the apron Annie likes to tease him for “looking pretty” in.  “I’m going to go fetch Mom. Andrew, can I trust you to handle being alone for a couple minutes? And if you do that and something else for me, you might get a special treat.”

 His son nods enthusiastically, the top row of his teeth biting his lower lip, and a burst of affection summons a large smile from Armin. The young father bends down, whispers in his son’s ear —the boy nodding in understanding—before he ruffles the hair Andrew inherited from him. 

 Armin walks down the hall to the master bedroom and once he reaches the door, he knocks, “Annie?” No response. “Annie, are you awake?” Armin hopes so. It’s almost half-past nine though he does remember last night being particularly horrible for her. He hopes she’s feeling better now. As quietly as he can, Armin opens the door. 

 Their bed with a white duvet sits in front of him and nestled on the left side rests who Armin looks for.   

 He whispers, “Ann— “

 A pillow clocks him in the face then falls to the floor. 

 No, she’s still in a bad mood.

 “I would finally believe that you’re brainless if you think I’m getting out of this bed...” is his wife’s irritated mumble. 

 “Annie…”

 “No.”

 Armin’s chest inflates then deflates from a deep sigh. She doesn’t move from resting on her side and the cunning part of him gets an idea. Sneakily, Armin approaches the bed, harnesses his inner lizard and belly-crawls through the dunes of sheets until he reaches his grumpy wife, digs his face into the space between her neck and shoulder.

“Pretty please come to breakfast?” Armin begs in a sweet voice, “Andrew and I might eat your pancakes before we can remember we need to save it.”

 Annie’s opening eyes reveal tired, ice irises, her tousled morning hair accentuating her annoyance. She shoves an elbow into his sternum, pushing him back, “You’re making it too warm.”

 “You’re very sweet to compliment me this early.”

 “No, it’s an insult to get you away from me. Want another?”

 “Maybe later. Right now, I’m only interested in trying not to be the only adult at the dinner table.” A grin of crafty goofiness splits Armin’s face, “How about it?”

 “Armin, I’m too tired...just eat without me.”

 Worry takes root in Armin, “Are you sure?” his palm settles on her forehead, probing for a fever. Annie pushes his hand away.

 “Yes. Now leave me alone.”

 “I will, but only if you tell me what’s wrong.”

 Annie’s jaw slides to the right. Vexed winter-lake eyes roll over to him, “What else could I be frustrated at? Who else is not only making my life difficult but keeping me up all night?”

 Her husband’s first instinct is to pin the blame on their son who hardly stops running around in the day and remains restless at night. But Armin understands, smiles sympathetically. Annie twists her body around, the culprit behind her lack of sleep rising the bedding over her middle and once she’s on her back, the large globe which is her stomach keeps the bedsheets lifted.

 “I don’t feel like taking five minutes to get myself out of bed then waddle another five minutes to get to the table,” she grumbles with her eyes squeezed shut, “I just want to sleep.”

 “I can bring it to you,” Armin offers happily, “I don’t mind. Everything is already made.” His exhausted wife pulls the covers up over her shoulders and moves onto her left side, seemingly not hearing him. Armin tucks his face farther into Annie’s neck, nuzzling against the soft skin there, “Annieee.”

 Her small hand slaps over his face and pushes him away, “Get away from me.”

 “Alright, alright.” He chuckles. Armin gives Annie the space she demands but not before he tries to help; he sits on his knees next to her lower back, places mindful hands on her hip to probe then sinks his knuckles along her hip bone, carefully digging into muscle and twisting his wrist. There’s an immediate high noise of relief from Annie so he keeps going, ventures down her leg too where she’s complained about pain before. It’s slow, but as he tends to his moody, better half, the tension flexing her neck and back relaxes.

 Armin’s brows upturn as he stares down, admiring Annie. Her womb has protected a being Armin never knew he could love so unconditionally and now she’s due to give birth to their next child any day now. He also knows how hard Annie is trying to hide that everything hurts, again. He’s read how pregnancy puts her bones out of alignment and strains the ligaments in her abdomen, and at times, the aches in her back and hips get so bad, he hears Annie wake up late at night, gasping, sounding near tears; he always knew she was strong but this stress on top of her fight against persistent night terrors has Armin seeing his wife on a whole different level of tough. The least he can do is take her sharp words—and at times, more life-threateningly cold attitude—with the calmest smile and approach he can manage; Annie deserves something which was consistent in her life, after all.

 “I’m sorry it’s so difficult, Annie,” he strokes her neck with the back of his hand. “If I could help with the pain or calm the baby down more I would. But this is the best I can do for now.”

 “I could think of one other way this could have been avoided all together...” Annie grumbles.

 The urge to be a smart mouth uproots in Armin, “Hm, you’re absolutely right about that. But I did just have a thought.” Armin taps his chin then points at his wife, “Since you asked me to do this to you, can you really complain?”

 “Yes, I can. Now either figure out a way to painlessly get this baby out of me or go away.”

 The other night must have been far worse than he thought and Armin sheepishly scratches his cheek—he probably went too far just now. Annie fidgets on her side, rubs absently at her large belly and Armin wants to join her. He reaches for her swell only to have Annie slap the top of his hand. 

 “You are not allowed to touch,” she very nearly snarls, “You only make things worse.”

 Armin slants his head, confused. Annie huffs annoyance out through her nose, “You being close only makes the baby more active. I don’t need Sleepy bouncing around like you do when you find something interesting to study.”

 Her husband’s head is stuck in a pensive head slant, “Ah, I see. So, if you want Sleepy to be the opposite of me...then you do want the baby to be like you? I’d like that too!”

 Her finger shoots up to point at him then Annie’s fingers pincer and cuts across the air in the same motion of a zipper sealing shut. Armin sniggers. He follows through on not teasing anymore like his wife orders with the exception of him not keeping away. He leans down and kisses the roundness keeping their child safe, whispers how amazing Annie is for creating a new body for them to cherish. His hand settles on her round middle, fans his fingers out and back in, then he feels it - the light rumble and thump beneath his palm. Feeling Sleepy move shoots a static-shock through Armin, makes his smile reach his ears. 

 He can feel Annie’s gaze on him, can tell frustration is twitching her eyebrow, but she doesn’t shove him away; he even sees pinkness filling her cheeks. Armin and his smile must appear painfully dopey because when he rises to stare back, Annie’s blush transforms from pink to fiery red, shoves her face in the pillows like she’s tired to hide from him.

 Annie then flinches, groans miserably. Her hand presses into the bottom curve of her belly.

 The ends of Armin’s eyebrows turn up in worry, “Getting close?”

 “I think,” she says in a pinched voice. The straining woman’s head falls back onto the pillow when the sharp pain appears to subside, a resigned sigh blowing out of her, ��But I’ll never know for sure. The baby will come whenever she wants to.”

 One side of Armin’s mouth rises slowly, “You think it’s a girl too?”

 “Who had to carry your brat for nearly a year? You?”

 “If by some magic I could, I would, but I can’t. Besides, I thought you didn’t believe in that gut-feeling stuff. We couldn’t tell Andrew was a boy and you said everyone who said so made a dumb guess. Why is this time different?” 

 “It just is. I wasn’t even attuned enough with my instincts back then to try to guess,” Annie combs back her bangs, her focus elsewhere, “That’s different now.”

 Armin’s cheeks have been rounded from a smile for so long, the muscles in his face scream from aching — it’s the one pain he wished he could have all the time. It took some years for them to make it to marriage, a couple more for parenthood —Armin going so far to accept that Annie may never want children—but time changes and drive to be the caring mother Annie’s mom never was has made her softer, more patient. He congratulates this goal Annie panicked over not achieving with a kiss to the nose.

 “Stop patronizing me,” is Annie’s menacing threat but her venom doesn’t match the crimson highlighting her face. 

 An entertained noise whistles out of Armin—but her blunt behavior will never go away, thank goodness.

  “Annie, if you keep talking like that, the baby will come out with your attitude. We might even be so lucky to get your cute nose again too.”

 Stressing hands slide up and around Annie’s face, “Damn it. I’ve dealt with my fair share of curses in my life. Stop adding more.”

 Armin bows in submission all while his face threatens to crack from how long and high his smile has stayed. He should really leave her alone now. Armin starts to move off the bed until a quick hand grabs his wrist. Armin turns, worries for a second— Annie’s forehead is wrinkled and her expression looks pained.

 “Armin, I’m—,” a long, regretful sigh blows up the hair strands in her face, “I’m sorry. You’re just trying to help and I’m treating you terribly...again. I’m really trying not to. It’s just frustrating. It’s hot outside, Andrew won’t stop jumping around, the baby won’t stop moving every time I try to sleep and everything hurts. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around already and to add me getting frustrated over every little thing you two do must be...” Annie doesn’t look at him. Remorseful misery thickens her voice when she says, “I’m sorry...”

 Armin kisses her temple and Annie flinches. She turns her upper body toward him and Armin moves down, slants his mouth over hers. His hand forms a fist again and he returns it to grinding away the pain surviving in her hip bones, drawing a sigh from Annie which pours into him.

 They part and Armin smiles as warmly as he can at her, “You don’t need to apologize. I know you don’t mean any of it. And even if you did, I don’t care. You’re doing a lot of work right now and I’m sorry I can’t help you more with it.” 

 He pecks her forehead, her nose, her pink cheeks. A vulnerable sound leaves Annie, her strong grip fisting the front of his shirt, a habit she’s formed to make sure he stays close. His forehead bumps against hers, “Which is why I made breakfast. I promise it will perk you up a bit. Because really, it’s an amazing sight: your biggest child can cook!”

 An eye roll and tooth-revealing laugh from Annie is Armin’s reward and he steals another kiss to her cheek. 

 “Momma?” Annie lifts herself up right as Armin switches his attention to the doorway. Their four-year old crosses the threshold, holding a plate which has a messy stack of pancakes, eggs, and sausages all piled on top of each other. “Do you not wanna eat with us again? I brought this for you if you wanna eat here!”

 Annie’s exhale is immediate as is the softness breaching her face. Armin has to bite his cheeks to keep down a cackle.

 Armin’s secret weapon always works far better than his usual tactics. He can’t wait for Sleepy to join in on swaying their mother too.

 “No, sweetheart,” Annie says, caving in, “I will. I just needed time to get ready. I’ll be right there.” Annie extends to Armin a judgmental glance, “This has you written all over it.” 

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Armin defends, though his back is toward her as he says it and scoots off the bed, trying far too hard to not let his laugh escape. Annie’s clever husband moves to help her up, but not before sneaking his son a thumbs-up which is not visible from Annie’s sharp eye. Andrew bounces, his sapphire-blue twinkling. 

 “I’ll get the table ready!” As Andrew rushes down the hall, food flies off the plate like confetti and falls with a splat to the floor.

 “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up,” Armin swiftly assures Annie who drops her head, possibly dreading another chore to do.  He helps her rise from bed and squeezes her shoulders, “Let’s go give him some attention now.”

 Annie relents with a nod, “Right. But just know you owe me an extra massage for using Andrew against me.”

 “I need breakfast first to fulfill that promise though.”

 In spite of being so tired, Annie’s elbow jabs him so hard in the ribs, he grunts from pain; the move doesn’t stop him from laughing either. He really doesn’t care — he got what he wanted.

 It’s not three days from that morning when Sleepy finally decides to say hello and Annie’s water breaks. One of the benefits of being a successful writer — and as to how he’s so successful, Armin isn’t quite sure at all — is affording a guest house across the garden, one which has been housing Mikasa and Jean for the past month. He throws open a window and yells for his friend’s help. Mikasa is the first to run out and just like they planned, both she and Jean escort Andrew away from the property during the worst of Annie’s labor. Armin stays by his wife’s side, wipes off her glistening forehead, gives the midwife an apologetic smile for Annie’s repeated cursing through contractions. It was early morning when her water broke, now it’s late afternoon. 

 When, at last, the time to push comes, Armin’s finger bones are probably fractured and the skin of his hand purples under Annie’s devastating grip but he pays the feeling no mind; Annie needs him and he continues wiping her forehead with the towel in his free hand, encourages her gently even after she yells at him to shut up. She’s exhausted and her eyes — when not falling closed between the pains and bearing down— are glazed and teary.

 “Only the shoulders are left dear,” The midwife below says, “You’re close.”

 “Only the shoulders,” Annie repeats, her eyes haggard and raspy voice ice-cold, “Why don’t you switch with me and see if you can say that so easily!!” 

 Armin inches toward speaking up but he refrains. If Annie says childbirth was worse than being shot then he doesn’t want to know the pain—his old wounds flare up from the mere thought. Armin simply holds her hand between both of his, gingerly kisses her exposed thumb because if he tries to kiss her cheek, she might headbutt him again. 

 Then after the last push, Annie gasps like she’s the one taking her first breath of air, stunned for a moment at the sensation of nothingness, of blissfully fading pain and Armin hears it, a single noise from a newborn, one little choking cry which awakens every part of his soul. 

 The midwife smiles up at both of them, “It’s a girl, dears.”  

 Armin is so stunned, happy, and teary-eyed he can’t respond—he’s lost in the same emotional whirlpool he fell into when Annie first told him they were expecting again. He cuts the cord at the midwife’s invitation and a touched sound leaves Annie when their newborn is put onto her bare chest. The baby—who's as red as a lobster and face is scrunched—coughs then continues with her feeble cries, a sound which is like music to Armin’s ears.

 Annie laughs, breathless, “You and your brother gave me so much grief. Then when you finally get what you want, you cry,” her hand rubs circles into the baby’s back, so well rhythmed and practiced, the cries devolve into whimpers, “Hush now,” she says in such a light, sugar-sweet voice, it convinces one to obey, “You’re here now and we have you.”

 To Armin, it’s the most angelic and soft Annie’s ever sounded and she reserves the voice only for her children. 

 Armin can only sit back in his chair, staring stupidly at both of them. Once the midwife takes their daughter and finishes cleaning her — ensures she’s warm and comfortable when placed back on Annie— the woman bows to take her leave. Armin thanks the midwife profusely for her help, guides the woman out to the front door, and when Armin returns, their daughter is still whiny yet alert while Annie’s eyelids flutter, her eyes glossy.

 “Armin, can you hold her for a while? I... I’m more tired than I thought.”

 Concern forms trenches between Armin’s brows, “Should I bring back the midwife?” 

 “No,” her voice is hoarse from yells or screaming but neither after-effects from child-bearing block out the genuine care Armin hears. “I promise, I’m fine. I’m just tired,” a short laugh rushes out of her, “Story of my life, huh?”

 Armin makes a face, uncertain. He’ll have to take Annie’s word for it and the midwife also wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t sure everything was fine either. His panic complex switches off.

 Annie’s husband moves around the pillows propping Annie up to help her nap more comfortably. He then dives for the newborn snuggled to her chest but stops, moves his hands to different angles because it’s been some time since he’s done this. He finally figures it out and carefully picks his daughter up, paying close attention to how frail a newborn’s head is. 

 Holding a baby isn’t new to him but he’s still scared of not securing her, of not holding her right; so scared in fact, Armin only just now felt Annie's hand moving along his arm. 

 “I’ll never understand why, but over these years, you keep giving me so much, Armin…” she squeezes the end of his forearm, rubs the skin she holds with the side of her thumb, “I can’t ever repay you but thank you for staying with me, for giving me both of them…” her eyes slip shut to sleep but not before she whispers, “Thank you.” 

 Armin stares, dumbfounded. Annie must be absolutely delirious on top of being tired. Doesn’t she realize what she just put her body through? Twice? What keeps running through his mind is how he can repay her and Armin wonders if building a small dojo in the yard might get him barely a quarter of the way there. 

 Annie's chest rises and falls from being sound asleep and Armin doesn’t waste a second more. He leans over, kisses the middle of his wife’s forehead, pecks the warm space beneath her eye—his own thank you and he’ll embarrass her with more praise when she wakes up.

 He also wants to make sure Annie’s sleep is undisturbed so he acts fast, hopes he hasn’t missed what his textbook teachers called the “golden hour”. He settles the baby on an empty spot on the bed, unbuttons his shirt, then brings his daughter to his chest for skin-to-skin contact as he sits back in his chair. Like his research predicted, her whining reduces, soon dies out completely, and the lullaby of another steady heartbeat helps their daughter calm down. 

 Armin has to remember to breathe—everything he has is too much to take in sometimes. Beyond the pain of war and deaths and Eren, he has a love which survived the long, desperate repair it needed to move on from their betrayals and pasts, he has a son, and now a daughter. A small smile twitches his mouth as he inspects his baby’s face. 

 Annie got her wish: his daughter has his nose and from this day forward, he’ll argue day and night to anyone at how she pulls it off far better than he ever could. There’s only so much he can see but aside from the shape of her face suggesting it mimics his own, every other feature has been nabbed from Annie—fine, bleached-blond hair, the shape of her eyes. Her true eye color won’t settle in for a week or so but Armin is positive her blue eyes will fill in with Annie’s frosty-blue too. 

 So carefully, Armin’s neck bends down to softly graze the tip of his nose on her forehead. He’s happy Andrew is more confident than he ever was but his daughter will be a mystery for a while. “What would I have been like?” Annie had told him once, “I think about that sometimes. What would I’d be like if I didn’t...if I never had to do any of this? If I wasn’t born with Eldian blood...”

 Armin isn’t sure and he hopes Annie doesn’t think about the what-if too much. But maybe their little girl is the answer. She’s small and her features already show signs of being Annie’s duplicate but with enough of a blend of him for his wife to be relieved; he’d also argue Sleepy here was so active because she’s as impatient and stubborn as her mother but he’ll keep that to himself...for now. 

 He pecks her small forehead and the baby quickly retracts, tucks her nose into his chest, hiding.

 “Oh no you don’t.”

 He pecks her little forehead a couple times more, cautiously lifts his fussing daughter higher on himself until he can safely poke their matching noses together, “Listen, princess—your mother didn’t get affection and was thrown away at your age; she probably was barely even held. I won’t let that happen to you or your brother or let you shy away from me fussing over you. Okay?” he smiles, happy and resolute, “Whether you like that or not.”

  His daughter yawns, either unenthused or unimpressed, and Armin chokes on his laugh—he’ll wake up Annie and his entire street if he dares let it go; like Annie in looks and in attitude too. He gently rocks her, watches as her eyelids fall and body relaxes until sleep turns his youngest limp, has her drooling on his sternum. 

 Armin stays like this for what feels like minutes but maybe it was an hour or more as Annie jolts awake and evening sunlight has shifted to moonlight gleaming through the window. Panic has her head twisting about the room until she reaches him, relief having her tense shoulders falling. 

 “Your turn,” he says, smiling wide, “I kept her warm for you.” Annie lifts herself up, takes their daughter back into her arms and Armin kisses her cheek again. “Thank you, Annie. For everything you’ve given me too.” 

 “We’ll fight about who should keep saying thank you later,” Annie says with a side-smile. There’s a moment they share where one of her arms holds their daughter, Annie’s fingers on the opposite stroking the top of Armin’s hand, “Want to bring Andrew back over?”

 Armin beams, nods excitedly. He kisses her, props her up with pillows again before peeking outside—the windows in the guest house are on so everyone is still awake.

 As he rushes out to fetch their son, he overhears Annie say, “It wasn’t a dream. She does have your nose...thank fuck.”

 Armin sprints across the yard and after he knocks, Mikasa opens the guest house door, Andrew who holds her hand tight standing next to her. Armin picks his son up by his underarms as he squeals in delight and plants a firm kiss to Andrew’s cheek before setting his son down. He extends his arm out to the pathway Andrew runs down, invites his friends to see his daughter.

 His childhood friend shakes her head, “No,” Mikasa smiles, “This time is for you guys first. We’ll come over tomorrow morning. You all need rest.” 

 Jean shoves Armin’s shoulder, “Nice work, Arlert. Your little champ is also quite the builder and chess player too. He must be as smart as you!” he pauses, “That being said, try not to let your other one end up too much like, uh—”

 “Jean…” Mikasa sighs.

 “All I’m saying is a little less rudeness from a female Arlert would be nice!” 

 “This isn’t the time,” the tall girl looks at Armin. “We’ll be by later, Armin. Enjoy your time together.”

 Just like all three of them have before, the group goes their separate ways and Armin leaves to the room where his family resides. He enters and observes Annie usher Andrew on the bed, the smaller boy handing her a flower he said he plucked for her—he’s got a good-eye too, his son holds one of Annie’s favorite carnations from the garden. Annie smiles broadly, thanks him and she uses the flower’s silky-petaled end to tickle Andrew’s smaller Roman nose, the move pulling a yelp then giggle from their eldest. Armin sits back down, overwhelmed.

 What’s a word to describe this? When you thought you were already complete only to find there’s so much more waiting?

 Armin wonders this as Andrew inspects his sister, Annie guiding his finger down only to have his small finger grabbed by someone smaller than him. Warmth blossoms in Armin’s chest when amazement widens his son’s eyes—has him grin—, the summer sunshine heat branching out as Annie joins in, smiling with so much adoration and love, Armin’s heart could pop. 

 Tears well at the ends of his eyes but closing them squeezes the threat away.

 Ah, that’s right. 

 Perfect.

[tsukidrama]

what do you think the name of annie's father is? calling him Papa is really cute. but i imagine he has a strong name

i always pictured that he just doesn't really use it that much because it's unpronouncable in the language they speak.

no idea what it could possibly be though... imagine if it just says [REDACTED] on his birth certificate lmao

[kyojuuros]

ok imagine if.......... "uh oh eren and zeke are both fatigued, and armin cant transform!!! we have to use our trump card" *camera pans out* *holy shit its the female titan* papa leonhardt: "OMG I TOLD YA'LL SHE'D COME BACK... wait... why is she killing our officers?" comeback of the fucking century ヽ༼ ಠ益ಠ ༽ﾉ

literally i need this more than oxygen (well, not necessarily in as a last resort, but in general haha)

Kind of related, but I feel like Mr. Leonhart doesn’t believe in the system so much anymore either and would be supportive if Annie switched sides. lol He seems really disenfranchised with it all.

[nakamatoo]

One thing I really hope in the next chapter is Eren making a conscious effort to not try and kill the eldians that are in the crowd. Let’s not forget that Reiners mom and Papa Leonhardt are in the crowd, though how close they are to the caos is something I’m not so sure of.

Willy said that the Eldians would be sacrificed and the first would to be killed in the attack, but I wonder if Eren is going to be careful not to endanger the lives of the innocent eldians that are currently present in the crowd. Since his target was the Marley and to make a statement of a declaration of war.

[kyojinofbraveos]

「vivi」 

[ghostmartyr]

Do you think Papa Leonhardts words might be foreshadowing for Annies return?

If this arc has a function outside of heralding Annie’s dramatic return, I’m not seeing it. She’s been in a crystal for four years, and during most of those years, the Survey Corps has probably been interested in experimenting with Eren’s plot magic. I wouldn’t be shocked if she’s already out.

By which I mean I really, really hope she is. She’s way more fun when she’s walking around, and going back to the Han Solo cosplay after all the recent new content would be a downer.

The manga clearly hasn’t forgotten her, so here’s to her getting some present day plot soon.

[sweetlydarling]

The Warriors as Broadway Songs

Bertholdt Hoover: ‘Words Fail’ ~Dear Evan Hansen

Okay, it was a huge tie between ‘Waving Through a Window’ and This song. Yet, I had to use this song. It fits Bertholdt very well. Especially during his speech to everyone in Season Two.

These lines make me think of Bertholdt.

“I never meant to make it such a mess I never thought that it would go this far So I just stand here sorry Searching for something to say Something to say Words fail, words fail There's nothing I can say”

“That's not a worthy explanation I know there is none Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done.”

Reiner Braun: ‘I’m Martin Guerre’ ~Martin Guerre

This was a really hard choice. After my friend sang this in our voice class, I realized I found the perfect song for Reiner. It makes a lot of sense. The poor guy has been through a lot.

“While they run with the pack, they will pay for the scars on my BACK!” “They want my blood, they’re ready to feed, they don’t even know the man that they bleed.” “Accept his life is already planned.” 

Annie Leonhardt: ‘Home’ ~Beauty and the Beast

With Annie in that crystal, this song fits perfectly. Not to mention, Belle in the song, mentions her father in the beginning. That reminds me of Annie and her father.

“Yes, I made the choice. For Papa, I will stay. But I don't deserve to to lose my freedom in this way” “Is this home? Is this where I should learn to be happy? Never dreamed That a home could be dark and cold” “My hearts far, far away, Home is too.”

FROM CHAPTER 91 ONWARD

Falco Grice: ‘Corner of the Sky’ ~ Pippin

I was originally going to have this for Reiner, but then I realized this fit Falco much better.

Gabi Braun: ‘Naughty’ ~Matilda

Matilda and Gabi have a similar mischievous side to them and the song really fits Gabi to a ‘T’ “Even if you're little, you can do a lot, you Mustn't let a little thing like, 'little' stop you If you sit around and let them get on top, you might as well be saying You think that it's okay And that's not right!“

Pieck: ‘Memory’~Cats

The song is very soothing and I believe it fits Pieck moderately well.

“Midnight not a sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone”

“Memory, All alone in the moonlight I can dream of the old days Life was beautiful then I remember the time I knew what happiness was Let the memory live again”

Porco Galliard: ‘Being Alive’ ~Company

Okay so I’ve actually never heard this song until just now. I looked at the lyrics and I kinda thought of Porco with Reiner in someway.

“Someone you have to let in, Someone whose feelings you spare, Someone who, like it or not, Will want you to share A little, a lot.”

Zeke: ‘The Pitiful Children’ ~Be More Chill

Okay, this song fits Zeke during the Return to Shinganshina Arc. Not to mention imagining him doing the “BEEP BOOPS” make me cackle.

“You were always quite the loser Jeremy. Then I invaded and you upgraded”

BONUS:

Karina Braun: ‘Spread a Little Sunshine’ ~Pippin

Don’t let this title fool you. The true premise of this song in the show is that the character Fastrada (Pippin’s stepmother) wants Lewis to get the throne so she can have higher ranking to be Queen (or something like that, it’s only vaguely explained and we never see her again after that song so...) BUT I DIGRESS! The song really fits Karina, especially the lyric: “God’s Wisdom teaches me, when I help others I’m really helping my myself” 

DOUBLE BONUS

Reiner and Bertholdt: ‘[I Guess] I Miss You’ ~Spongebob: The Musical

Okay, okay: first, you’re probably thinking:  “KATELYN WHAT THE FEATHERDUSTER?! THE SPONGEBOB MUSICAL?! REALLY!?”

Hear me out:

It’s their friendship that made me think of this song. Reiner and Bertholdt been friends ever since they were children and although they aren’t as hyperactive as Spongebob and Patrick, they are always there for each other. In this part of the musical, Patrick is lamenting about Spongebob and how much he feels bad for not being there for him. This fits Reiner extremely well in a way.

Patrick’s lines “I'm only pretending I'm alright without you.” make me think of Reiner, especially after Bertholdt’s death.

(Tbh, I imagine Bertholdt’s ghost singing this along side Reiner, don’t judge me.)

[annieleonhardt]

Do you already have headcanons for Papa Leonhardt and his grandchildren? You said that meeting them would be emotional so now I am curios o^o

My favorite is the thought that while he and Armin still have a really like. Tense relationship, his grandkids are super important to him and he’s quick to spoil them. Like even as he and Armin are being super passive aggressive toward each other, as they’re left alone watching the kids while Annie is out doing something, he’s playing with all four of them and making them laugh. His lack of a filter ends up teaching them quite a few bad words tho.