#until i return to story posts (hopefully by next week) this is the era i'm living in rn

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

Hi Pam!

Hope you're doing well, and thank you for your ‘on the path that led me to you’! 🫂This story is really engaging and interesting to follow, to see your input into canon events, that perfectly fits into the lore and fills a lot of "missing" scenes.

As you've expressed that you would love to have some fluff aside stories Post-canon... Oh well, you know, I'm absolutely weak against AruAni domestic fluff. feat Ambassadors Family.

And I was thinking, if I may ask you to have some small continuation of your other wonderful oneshot, "to save what we have"? Take all the creative freedom you have, just something related to this particular story and some aftermath.

Thank you in advance, take care and wish you all the best :3

Anna!! Thanks so much for the prompt- sorry it took a while to respond! I was very much looking forwarding to writing this, just needed to think of a scenario to put them in. I definitely tried to lean into the ‘domestic’ and ‘family’ aspects of it.

I am grateful you requested this, because I have been finding myself wanting to return to this story/era so much lately 🥰

The story is posted under the cut- I will get around to posting to AO3 soon hopefully.

Update- you can still read below but this is also now published on AO3 as Part 2 of ‘to save what we have’ —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/59811097

“Stop squirming- hold still…” Annie said, glancing up and eyeing Armin where his arm was extended towards her across the table. She pressed the sterile cotton ball with tweezers into the wound across her husband’s forearm. The bullet had carved a clear trail through the flesh right above his wrist- and despite his grumbling she was determined to be diligent about cleaning and redressing it every day.

Armin peered over at her from where he was reading the newspaper. She eyed him carefully, pressing the alcohol soaked cotton back into the deepest section of his wound. He hissed a little through his teeth.

“I know you’re making faces behind that newspaper.” She murmured, leaning closer to inspect her handiwork.

“No I’m not…” Armin muttered back, shaking the paper straight where it had started to droop at the top.

“Yes he is.” Pieck chimed in with her sing-song voice. She was mixing flour into dough at the kitchen counter next to the table. Reiner chuckled with laughter, the bacon in the pan he was flipping over sizzling.

Annie found she appreciated the smell of the cooking meat- she had always enjoyed sweet things for breakfast, which Pieck was obliging with her cinnamon roll recipe- but lately she had been craving salty and savory foods.

Maybe their baby would prefer those kinds of foods, she thought absently as she smiled to herself, passing her free hand over the swell of her stomach.

They had been in the safe house for a week- giving the authorities time to search for the extremists’ base of operations. They were being incredibly thorough at Armin’s insistence. The captain of the guard had ensured them that his men wouldn’t rest until the rot had been cut out.

She knew there was likely to be political fallout from this- the night of the gala was important for a lot of reasons and it represented the results of years of work for the ambassadors and other world leaders allied with their cause. For the event to be cut short so violently would have consequences and potentially undo some of their hard-won progress.

But she couldn’t be concerned about the world right now. She could only be concerned about her world. And right now that was Armin, the child growing inside her, and the four other ambassadors she had come to think of as allies, then friends, and more recently as family.

And all was relatively right with her world at the moment. Armin, despite his grimacing, would heal from his injury with nothing more than a scar. Her friends were resting and enjoying their private time together after so many weeks in the public eye.

And for herself… she was coming to terms with her pregnancy all over again now that everyone knew about it.

She wasn’t feeling as sick as she had a few weeks ago. And despite the more visible changes to her body that had alarmed her at first, two weeks ago was the first time she had felt her child move and it had been so quietly thrilling that it was all she could do not to reveal their secret right in the droll policy meeting they were sitting in.

Armin had spent that night petting and doting on her, transfixed by the growing bump and talking to their baby. She had been a little embarrassed of the extra attention at first, but to see the hopeful smile that lit up his eyes… it made her remember why she had agreed to do this with him in the first place.

She wanted to give him something special- something to make up for all of the things he had lost. Even if it was scary, even if the symptoms weren’t easy. She had taken so much from the world… lives and hopes and futures. But now she could create it herself just by loving him. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem possible. Her? After everything?

At the same time, though, thanks to Armin she had learned to accept all sorts of things she didn’t think she deserved.

She finished cleaning the wound and tying off the gauze, smoothing her thumb across the cotton as she delicately held his wrist. Armin placed the newspaper to the side, smiling knowingly at her with the upturned corner of his lips, before sliding his arm from her soft grip and rising out of the chair to come and stand behind her.

She had been bent over the table, and she hadn’t realized how slumped and poor her posture had been until she sat back, feeling Armin begin to massage her shoulders. She leaned her head back for him to press a kiss on her forehead, and she closed her eyes, smiling as she stretched her feet out in front of her beneath the table. She found herself resting her hands atop her protruding stomach. She hummed contentedly as her husband continued kneading the tense muscles around her neck.

She opened one eye at the sound of Reiner chuckling. He waved his tongs over at her, and she raised a brow at him. “Never thought I’d see the day when Annie was pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.” She frowned a bit, and Armin scoffed good-naturedly behind her.

She closed her eyes again, pressing her hand on her lower belly where her child was moving and kicking. “I’m not the one frying bacon in a frilly apron.” She said back nonchalantly, and she heard Pieck’s snicker as she continued to whisk her batter.

“I’m not about to have grease splatter on my shirt…” He defended glumly, turning back towards the stove top.

Armin leaned in to give her another kiss on the cheek before he knelt down next to her chair, placing his hands delicately next to hers where their child was moving. “How is our squish this morning?”

Annie snorted a bit at his newest nickname for their child. ‘Squish’ had caught on last week, replacing ‘little bean’ in the rotation of terms of endearment. She grabbed his hand, pressing it on her side right below her ribs.

“Active.” She said with a sigh, but the contentment in her voice bled through anyway.

“That’s good… maybe they’ll decide it’s better to be active in the morning than at night.” He added, his eyes lighting up with that infectious enthusiasm.

“How would the baby know what time it is anyway?” Pieck wondered aloud.

Armin straightened a bit to look at her, and Annie could sense from his expression that he was mentally flipping through a catalogue of books he’d read about prenatal development. He read them aloud to her at night sometimes, while she curled into his chest and tried her best not to nod off.

“At a certain stage, they can hear voices and respond to light… I imagine the baby knows when it’s dark and quiet it may be nighttime. Not the concept of night, of course, that’s absurd but… the sensation of it maybe?” He posited and Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling at the inquisitive look on his face that she knew so well.

“Voices, huh? Think the baby might recognize my voice?” Reiner asks.

“That’s not an invitation to talk more.” Annie teased with a glare.

“When are you going to start acting kind and motherly?” Reiner teased back with a shake of his head.

“I could stand to be a lot nicer to you if you would hurry up with that bacon.” She said adjusting in the chair as she crossed her arms.

“Since when did you start wanting meat for breakfast?” Pieck said, starting to roll out the dough with a rolling pin. She turned to Annie with a little pout, and Annie rolled her eyes.

She glanced over at Armin, a teasing grin on her face. “It’s what our squish wants, I guess.”

Armin smiled back at her, pressing a quick kiss to her middle before standing. He crossed over to help Pieck roll the dough into spirals and coat them with cinnamon sugar.

Annie busied herself with packing up the first aid kit for a moment, before all four of their heads turned at the sound of the door opening from the back of the house and heavy footsteps coming towards them.

She furrowed her brows when Jean and Connie practically tripped over themselves entering the kitchen, piling armloads of shopping bags on the table.

“What’s all this? I thought you were just meeting with the dignitaries in our place this morning.” Armin asked, swiveling around to face them and fix them with his own puzzled expression.

“We did- but then we passed by a marketplace on our way back and-“ Jean started.

“And we found the greatest stuff for Baby Arlert!” Connie spurted out, diving into one of the bags and pulling out a tiny quilted blanket.

Armin laughed, rubbing at his temples with one hand as she shook his head at him. Connie only continued to dig out more items from the bag as Jean jostled it back and forth between them- arguing that he wasn’t giving anyone enough time to appreciate the purchases.

Annie bit her lip, reaching out with one hand to touch a small stuffed rabbit. It had silken ears and a frilly ribbon tied around it’s neck. It’s button eyes and nose glistened under the light. She rubbed one of it’s floppy ears between her fingers.

She wasn’t really paying attention to the teasing and good-natured griping around her, as Pieck and Reiner continued to pester Jean for his out of control shopping habits, and Jean continued to pester Connie for trying to take credit for the gifts.

Instead, she ran her fingertips across a tiny smocked sleeping frock that was laid out on the table, before holding it up by the sleeves.

It was so small. Her baby was going to be so small. She tried to imagine a minuscule little person, with blonde hair and blue eyes filling out the little garment.

She felt tears brimming in her eyes, and before she knew it she was sniffling. Had her father ever dressed her in something precious like this? Had she ever been treated like a soft small child who was wanted and loved?

But their baby would have that. Their baby would have Armin as a father. Their baby would have so many people who cared for them.

“Annie? Are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that a tear had slipped down onto her cheek.

She startled a bit, looking over at Armin’s concerned face. She bit her lip, blushing a bit as she smoothed the frock out carefully with her palms on the table in front of her. “It’s just… so small.” She said finally.

“Of course it is, it’s for you and Armin’s baby.” Connie joked and Jean elbowed him lightly.

She felt Armin tucking her hair behind her ear lightly, standing behind her as she continued to trace the delicate embroidery on the hem with her fingertip, blinking back tears and sniffling.

When she finally looked up at him, she found herself standing up to tuck herself into his arms as he pet soothing circles into her back. She laid her head on his shoulder and clutched his sweater in her hands as he laughed a little in his chest.

“Yes, Annie. Our baby will be small and soft and little.” He said, his voice low.

She sighed, slackening a bit. She knew there were a million other words said to her in that simple phrase. About how their baby would be grow up in a world where it was safe to be small and soft and little. About how they were all working to make the world a better place for them to grow up in- but no one was working harder than Armin himself.

She turned to face Jean and Connie again, Armin’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder, and gave them both a small appreciative smile.

“Small and soft and spoiled more like- how much did you spend on all of this, Jean?” Pieck teased, dusting her hands off on her skirt as she finished slipping the cinnamon rolls into the oven.

“It doesn’t matter how much I spent.” He said crossing his arms petulantly.

“Are you trying to win some sort of contest for the favorite uncle before the kid’s even born?” Reiner asked, placing the bacon he’d finished preparing on a plate as he turned off the burner.

“There’s no such contest- but if there were I wouldn’t be worried about competition from you or Connie.” Jean said.

Reiner harrumphed a bit to himself, but sidled on the other side of the table to place the plate of bacon down in front of Annie’s chair.

She let out a relieved sigh, sinking heavily back into the chair as Armin let out a laugh. She was already shoving a strip of bacon into her mouth before she even sat down. It smelled so good, after all, and she had waited so long to eat it.

Reiner crossed his arms at Jean, giving him a self-satisfied smirk. “See, I’m giving the baby what it really wants.”

“This is very sweet of you all, but please don’t turn this into some kind of twisted made up pecking order.” Armin said, his voice already sounding disappointed and tired, his hands hanging at his sides.

Annie smiled to herself as she continued helping herself to the food, each of her friends around her pulling out a chair to sit down and continuing to discuss the baby, and the gifts, and their petty grievances laced with love and familiarity.

She slipped her hand into Armin’s when he settled into the chair next to the left of hers. She traced her thumb lightly over the gauze again as she glanced down at his hand before looking up to his face. His eyes were wrinkled with laughter as Connie held up the frock underneath his chin and Pieck plopped a tiny bonnet on his head.

It warmed her heart to know how easy it was for him to smile. A week ago they had almost lost everything. She had lost sleep over it a couple nights, remembering... dreaming of a different outcome. But all she had to do was reach for him in her sleep, his hand finding the slope of her stomach as he pulled her towards his chest to hold her close. To hold them close.

All was well… in her world. And despite how hard it was to imagine being any happier than this, she knew it could only get better from here.

[stillgotme]

Nevaeh’s Touch: The Newest Music Artists 💙

how far out does the  i n d i g o  go?