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#trnt annie
tsukidrama · 7 months
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hi!
i came across your blog the other day and i wanted to tell you that you have a really incredible writing gift. your cottagecore has me hooked and i can't wait to find out what comes next.
would you be ok sharing any ideas you might have?
- 🪻
oh? interest in TRNT and a new anon? yes please! 🥺 i would be happy to share some ideas
y'know, i actually have almost the entire fic planned out. i haven't intentionally abandoned the story... about once or twice a month the document gets opened and i'll write a few paragraphs, though i know that's not much. i feel like i've been going through something weird for the past year or so. i don't really know how to explain it properly. i haven't written a damn thing in so long.
between low engagement, me being sick all the time, and life being stressful (mostly this), this fic just hasn't come together the way i hoped it would. The Road Not Taken is still massively important to me and somewhat of a personal magnum opus so, i'll finish it... but i do not know when.
ideas below. i wrote more than i thought, and it's gotten me really excited about the fic again! please let me know if there's anything specific you'd like me to go into detail about
alright firstly:
the next big thing is what i've been calling the intervention arc. obviously we have to address some of the heavier emotional issues that both Annie and the reader have. nothing can move forward until our main characters are communicating again! both with each other and with their support system.
vacation arc! i want to write more about what's left of the world post-Rumbling on a global scale. i also need a reason to get them away from the cottage for a decent chunk of time so i thought i'd have them explore a bit.
there will be a subplot about the cats who live around the cottage, just for funsies. i have a chapter title planned for it and everything lmao
there will be a pretty major division amongst the eldians later on about some of them wanting to go back and live on Paradis. to be completely honest, i haven't decided how i want that to resolve and who, if anyone, is going to leave. but we have definitely not heard the last about Paradis. some assorted thoughts elaborating on that, and how the ending could potentially play out either way:
i don't know i should give EVERYONE a happy ending or not. my initial plan was to write what i think the characters would actually do in this post-Rumbling scenario i've imagined (let's call this Ending 1), but over time i've started to change my mind and be like: i'm not the mangaka and that ain't my job, so i should write my story the way i want. aka FUCK isayama, everybody gets a steven universe-esque happy ending (we'll call this one Ending 2) even though it might not be totally consistent with the way characters are written in aot.
i'd love to hear people's opinions about either ending btw
the largest difference that giving everyone a happy ending would have, is whether or not i decide to include Historia. i really adore her and in theory i want to give her a better ending considering how tragic she is, but where she's left in the end of the manga puts her in direct opposition with the narrative and the "not my monkeys, not my circus" attitude that the narrator feels so strongly about 😖 it would make me too sad to include Hisu at all if she's on the wrong side of things.
I want everyone to move away from all the politicking. they really don't have any business doing all o' that in my opinion... they're all early 20s AND child soldiers so like. please rest guys, you can be done with the whole saving the world thing...
after all, the idea of stepping away from the alliance and NOT continuing to involve themselves in global affairs IS the metaphorical road not taken
i do know how i want the fic to end in terms of Annie and reader, and it will be good. i don't wanna oversell it or hype it too much and then have it be underwhelming... but i'm hoping that their love story plays out in a way that people will call beautiful.
if i decide to go with Ending 1 then it will very much be a bittersweet narrative about how people naturally grow apart over time but everywhere you look there will be new sources of happiness and fulfillment etc.
Ending 2 would be much more idealistic. probably a bit unrealistic but it will give the characters ending that would make them happy and make us happy. true fix it fic style.
i think either would be cathartic for me to write in different ways so i really don't know where i want this to go yet. probably gonna wing it and see what feels right chapter by chapter.
I JUST HAVE TO ACTUALLY FUCKING WRITE IT
anyway like i said above the cut, i wrote a lot more than i thought i would. i got really into it pls send me more asks 🥺 it will light a fire under my ass and i'll finally finish chapter 10
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leonhardt-simp · 3 years
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Ambassador! Annie has a cat named donut and you can't change my mind
funny enough-
if we’re talking about ambassador! annie from my story tgwwml, I actually made a reference to @tsukidrama ‘s story TRNT in chapter 4
it was about building a house and having a couple of cats :)
I agree she definitely would have some cats though
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tsukidrama · 1 year
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wtf is up with my brain sending me sexy Annie dreams lately? and though i would never ever complain about such a thing, i am just a little perplexed as to why i went months without one and now all of a sudden BAM 3 in one week
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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the road not taken
{I Doubted If I Should Ever Come Back}
ᴀɴɴɪᴇ ʟᴇᴏɴʜᴀʀᴅᴛ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ / ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴀɴᴛ
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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: night terrors, manifestations of PTSD, references to (physical) abuse, suicidal ideation, angst, & hurt with very little comfort.
Chapter 9 - Bad Dreams 2: Electric Boogaloo
Summary: When Annie hits rock bottom, you're confronted with the realities of her childhood you don't like to think about.
cottagecanon | ao3 | wattpad | ♫
← Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 →
Word Count: 10.5k
Author’s Note: thank you all for being so patient! i truly adore the little community of fans this fic has attracted. it took me a little longer than usual to write this chapter because it was genuinely making me depressed irl - nothing too serious, but it was hard to depict the unhealthy headspace that reader is currently in. so happy this chapter is over! if you haven't read it yet, i started a companion piece that goes along with this fic. linking below.
off the beaten path
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Annie looks at you with an amused smirk. 
“I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks now,” you insist, “You just don’t believe me, still.”
She shakes her head. “Okay, so who is she, then?” 
You falter. “Well, I’m not sure, actually…” you admit. Annoyingly, it only adds to the argument against you. 
“...because she’s not real,” Annie finishes. 
“No!” you protest yet again, “She was real, and she brought him a bunch of crap. You know how sometimes he comes home from town with a basketful of random shit?” 
She nods. 
You’ve been thinking about that encounter ever since it happened, and you’ve had time to formulate your own theories. 
“She’s got to have some kind of a connection to the place where he gets that crap. Maybe they met there, or she works there,” you say, even though Annie looks disbelieving. “I think it would be a lot weirder if she didn’t have any connection to the stuff. Then I’d really be suspicious.”
At first, all she does is stare. After a few moments when you don’t back down, she laughs again – guffaws, really. It’s the most amusement she’s gotten out of something since she’s been back. 
“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” she chuckles, and goes as far to wipe a tear of laughter from her eyes. 
And again you groan. “I’m not making it up!” 
She doesn’t even entertain the idea. Every time you try to bring it up she has the same reaction, barely giving you the time of day. 
Eventually, you just drop the topic entirely. You do however stay on top of watching Papa a little more closely than usual. Unfortunately nothing of interest happens in those first few weeks. 
However, it doesn’t take long for you to realize that the only person acting odd is Annie herself. One night during dinner, there’s a particularly worrying interaction. 
“Could you pass the potatoes?” she asks. It’s the first thing anyone has said in a while, so it almost makes you jump. 
Somehow in the time that she had been gone, you forgot that Leonhardt family dinner was a silent affair. On your own with either one of them, you could get them to open up. When it was you and Papa, you’d talked more during meals than you did anywhere else (maybe the barn, too, towards the end there). 
That wasn’t ever your life. As a child, the dinner table was the center of the house. Dinner was a conversational affair, always. You would be asked about your day or about school. In the best years of your life, you would often sit at the table for hours, talking with your grandparents long after you had finished your plate. 
But when all three of you are sitting at a table, it’s dead silent. They outnumber you and the silence wins. Before Annie left, you had gotten used to it. You’ll get used to it again in time. It went without saying that this was just the norm between the two of them, that Anine’s childhood had been spent in silent dinners. 
It was really lonely. Especially considering that you had gotten used to otherwise. So whenever Annie stops eating and starts talking, it catches both of you off guard before you even hear what it is that she says. 
“Do either of you ever think about where we’d be buried if we die?”
Papa’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. And shockingly, that happens to be one of the few things she could’ve said that leaves you too stunned to reply. 
She looks back and forth between the two of you before she shrugs and looks back down. “I hadn’t ever thought about it before recently,” she mutters, “Warriors didn’t get graves.”
Her dad’s face is completely drained of blood. You realize that his hands are shaking when the fork in his hand trembles, then clatters against his plate. This reaction is what sets you in motion again to redirect the conversation. 
“That’s not something that any of us need to think about right now,” you say decisively. “You and I are young and all three of us are healthy.” 
Annie nods with her brow furrowed, like she hadn’t considered that before. “I know that. I was just wondering, really.” 
Finally, Papa breaks his silence. “Okay, well, don’t,” he snaps, “Got it?” Despite the intensity that he says it with, it’s crystal clear that his emotion is coming from fear rather than anger. 
She nods again to show her understanding, though she deflates a little bit as she goes back to pushing her food around her plate. 
Nobody says anything for the rest of the meal, though the mood of the silence changes considerably after that. You’re on edge the whole time, mostly worried that one of them might lash out in pure emotion and the other misinterprets it for anger. 
Is it lucky or unlucky that they both shove their feelings down? You swear that you watch the process of each of them controlling their facial expressions carefully before they revert back to apathy. 
Neither of them cleans up their spot at the table. Papa stabs his remaining brussel sprouts and shoves them in his mouth, angrily stomping off out of the back door with his mouth full of food. At least he eats them – Annie stays at the table with you for another ten minutes, but she just continues to push her food into a different spot. 
You want to ask her if she’s alright, but you also don’t want to make her feel like she’s made anything weird. For once, you’re not sure what you should say. All you can think of is the laundry list of things of things you want to avoid saying. 
It takes so long and you come up so short that Annie is the one to finally break the silence once it becomes unbearable. 
“Maybe he should get a girlfriend…” she mutters, “If that would make him chill the fuck out for once.”
You nod so that she feels like you’re on her side. What you really want to do is point out that maye he had a point to be concerned. It wasn’t like her to bring up the topic of death so suddenly, not since you’d left Paradis and the curse ended. 
It didn’t feel like a good sign that she was talking about death from the start, but when you think about it compared to some of the stuff she’d said as a teenager you can’t find it in you to call her out. It doesn’t raise enough red flags with you that you’re particularly concerned about her state of mind, given the fact that she acts normal with you for the rest of the night. 
She’s a little quiet maybe, but she’s as affectionate as always. After you both get ready for bed she lies down with a book, and you curl up on her shoulder reading along from the side. A few chapters in you feel yourself getting tired and falling asleep on top of her, and she’s attentive enough to wake you up just enough to reposition you comfortably. 
There’s a smile on your face. The last thing you expect is for things to go off the rails, but of course life has a special way of kicking you in the ass when you’re least expecting it. 
You sleep hard that night. It feels so safe when Annie’s arms are around you and the cats snuggle in, that you let your guard down. You’re so comfortable that you fall into a much deeper sleep than you intend to. 
At some point, you’re roused from sleep, but the heaviness in your eyelids is too strong to resist. You’re vaguely aware of Annie moving beside you, but you shake off the disturbance and flip over to scoop Donut into your embrace. It’s actually only due to his claws sinking into your arm that you wake up all the way. 
“Ah fuck, nice paws – no claws,” you chide him, removing each of the tiny daggers from your skin. “Damn it, please chill out, Donut…” 
You open your eyes and sit up, losing your grip on the squirmy cat. He darts away, slinking into the shadows of the room. Only when you turn do you realize that you’re alone in bed – actually, you’re alone in the room, you realize when you glance around. Annie is nowhere to be found. 
Ah, shit. Her weird comments about death and burial from earlier that night flash in the forefront of your mind and immediately, you fear the worst. You nearly leap out of bed to check the balcony and the bathroom, and any corner of the room where she could conceivably be tucked away in. 
She’s not upstairs. There’s nothing out of place. 
The only clue to her whereabouts comes from a sound down the stairwell. The door to downstairs is wide open, and something clatters like it was knocked off of a shelf or table to thunk on the hardwood floor. 
Oh, no. Please, no. 
Your heart is in your throat as you throw on some clothes. Please, please let her just be getting a snack downstairs. The Siamese yowls at you from the bottom of the steps, probably hungry herself. You shoo her away. There are clearly more pressing things than feeding the cats right now. Fucking cats…
The kitchen is empty with the inner door open and the screen door swinging in the wind. There’s a noise in the garden, a rhythmic thumping with an odd echo that reverberates between the three buildings surrounding the area. The bad feeling that’s pulling your guts down gets so much worse when you realize that ‘echo’ you’re hearing isn’t a reflection of another noise at al, but rather quiet sobbing. 
More or less, you know what you’re walking into. Some kind of horrible nightmare manifesting in a weird way. Had she ever run out of the house before? You wrack your brains and the answer comes up no. She’s made it onto the balcony and even down the stairs, but never even onto the bottom floor, really. 
Nothing that you couldn’t fix by just pulling her back into the room afterwards. Nothing that had overwhelmed you so much you don’t know how to handle it. All of that changes tonight. 
She’s standing on the edge of the garden, kicking the shit out of the part of the fence next to the picnic table, the part that cuts out to divide the garden. She’s really pummeling the crap out of it, to the point where the wood begins to splinter. You notice that not only is she still in a sports bra and pajama shorts, but she’s also not wearing any shoes. 
Her bare foot comes down on the fence and it breaks altogether. She rips the fence post out of the ground and throws it off to the side, then graduates to pulling at individual boards. Grunting with effort amidst her crying, she dismantles it piece by piece. 
After the nose incident and talking about it was Papa, you know better than to intervene. Especially not when there are shards of wood and god knows what else flying around. So instead you remain at the bottom of the ramp crouched in shadow.
This was everything you were afraid of since she came back. You start to get a little overwhelmed by emotion, but you’re still not sure what she’s triggered about. Before you take action you need to know what you’re dealing with, to see what she’s having a nightmare about in the first place. 
You try to get closer without making any sound. Annie isn’t talking, just crying, shouting every so often, but it’s not words. After she’s ripped apart the fence as much as it will budge, she kicks aside one of the chairs. 
When she tries to get a new angle on beating the fence, she ends up backing up right into the tree, and from the sound of it, she smacks into it quite hard – you audibly wince at the thwacking noise her skull makes against the bark. Her crying grows more frantic, and you can finally hear what she’s saying clearly as she cries out to defend herself. 
“No… I’m sorry. I wasn’t slacking off,” she whimpers, “I’m not taking a break… No sir! … okay, yes… I will.” Her voice shakes, and she falls to the ground as she scrambles away from the tree. 
There’s no metaphorical expression that can describe the way it feels when it hits you. You might as well have been punched in the gut with the way it twists. You’re nauseous and dizzy and in shambles. 
“I’m sorry,” she sobs, “I won’t do it again…”
Hearing those words coming out of her mouth fogs your brain up so badly that you just stand there stunned for a few moments. This is the one thing that you can’t handle, the one thing that breaks you more than anything else. No matter how hard you try, you can’t address this with a clear head. 
Annie pulls herself to her feet, and all of a sudden to your horror, she kicks up one of the tomato plants. It goes flying through the air. In quick succession, she kicks down the entire row of plants. Bell peppers, then squash, then eggplants go flying in every direction. Some are entirely uprooted while others are kicked like a soccer ball. 
She smacks into the tree again, and it triggers another episode of hysterics. The crying starts up anew, with another sputtering of apologies and half-coherent begging. “[more horrible dialogue]”
Half of it isn’t ready to harvest yet, not as if that matters to the nightmare. Cabbage, lettuce, kale, and cauliflower all go flying around and break apart on impact. Seeing her physically rip the garden to shreds is what tips you over the edge. 
You swallow the sickness you’re feeling and slink along the fence as you creep toward the en suite. You can’t do this alone. Desperately, you wrap your knuckles against the glass of Papa’s window. It’s a lot louder than you anticipated so you duck into the shadows in fear that Annie heard you.
If she did, she doesn’t react to it. She continues screaming and kicking, spinning quickly on her feet amongst the destroyed plants. You start banging on the door now, rather insistently, until you hear rustling on the other end. 
You keep knocking even when you hear him, though a little bit more softly. Only do you stop when you hear the lock disengaging. 
The door creaks open and Papa peeks out groggily. He looks confused at first, but the second he registers that it’s you, the bleary look on his face disappears. 
“What happened?” he asks, his gaze sharpening. 
You can’t even get any words out. As soon as your mouth opens you just start sobbing. Papa is expectedly taken aback by it. His eyes widen, though by his standards you know he’s trying to control his face. He reaches out for you but then freezes in place, unsure of what to do, and flounders for a moment. 
His expression grows unreadable as you watch the worst-case scenarios flash in his mind. He looks genuinely worried as he swallows hard. You can literally the recollection of her weird comments at dinnertime dawn on him, and worry floods his expression, “...she’s not?” 
“No, not like that,” you blubber, “but I didn’t know what to do.” 
Eventually, you manage to point out in the garden as you choke on another sob. Finally, it seems to sink in for him what’s happening when Annie once again bumps into the tree and shrieks, sobbing and promising that she’ll do better. 
When you turn, you see that she’s back in the middle of the garden ripping plants straight out of the ground and hurling them against the side of the barn. Dirt splatters against the red painted wood, noisily thunking with each collision. 
You look back to Papa to see his reaction. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the blank look on his face, but you are a little disappointed. Right now, you need him to be there for you. Well, what are you expecting from him exactly? After all, it is Papa. You feel bitter tears forming in your eyes as you start to realize it might be a futile effort. 
A shower of dirt rains down from a few feet away. You jump in surprise, whirling around to see that Annie’s aim has now reached the en suite. Some onions thud against the bricks again, and this time the dirt that flies off hits the both of you. 
Only the third time do you realize that Papa is somewhat frozen. A hard handful sails across the garden directly toward you, and all of a sudden the instincts you learned during that annoying month and a half where deflecting random shit became a regular thing for you. Soil rains down all over your body but you manage to successfully block whatever vegetables – radishes, maybe? – that she’d hurled over. 
Finally, it seems like Papa fully realizes that you need help. You cry out in shock and disgust, and the squealing as you try to shake off the dirt must bring him back into reality. He grabs you by the upper arm and yanks you inside his room before the next vegetable comes flying by a few seconds later. 
He shuts the door and all at once, every emotion hits you at once. It’s like as soon as you’re physically separated from the event, you start to process it. The full effect of seeing Annie in this worst-case scenario, your inability to deal with it, the fact that you had to admit that, and the fact that you’re hiding when you feel like she needs you. 
You completely lose your shit. Tears flow down your face as you blubber hopelessly. “I should’ve brought her back to bed before she was able to make it out here. I usually wake up – I don’t know how I slept through it. Is this my fault?”
“Stop that right now,” he demands, placing a hand on your shoulder, “No way this is your fault. This isn’t your mess to clean up. You were right to come to me, okay?” 
You start out sniveling, balling your hands up into fists so hard that your fingernails dig into your palms. Words don’t come out. 
“Did she hurt herself?” he asks seriously. His grip on your shoulder unintentionally tightens. 
Immediately, you shake your head. “Not beyond whatever she did to the fence. Maybe some bruises… I don’t know. Nothing intentional, if that’s what you’re asking.” 
And though Papa looks a little bit relieved, he’s still very tense. Right now he looks older than you’ve ever seen him. 
Your lip trembles as you try to say more, but what ends up coming out is so shaky that it’s nearly inaudible. “I just… god, I feel so fucking useless. I can’t help her.” 
“You’ve done a lot for her already, more than anybody else ever has,” her dad tells you, and he begins to shepherd you towards the nearby armchair. “More than I ever have, too. You never should have felt responsible for this burden. This is all on me. I need to know that you understand that.” 
More tears overwhelm you. Papa stops trying to guide you when you start to stagger. Instead, he just pulls you into a hug. 
Something broken inside of you cracks further as emotions you didn’t realize you still had come back to haunt you. You feel terrified and inadequate and like you should have done something different, or better. Is he sure that this isn’t your doing? 
The choked-back emotion suddenly becomes too much, and once again you’re sobbing. “No,” is all you’re able to get out this time, “no, no.” You say over and over again. Your vision tunnels and your limbs go weak as you start to hyperventilate. 
“Yes,” he tells you, firmly, “You’ve done a good job for a long time. Do you hear me?” 
You nod, out of instinct more than anything. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been doing anything at all. Maybe you just don’t know how to accept praise anymore. 
He pats your head affectionately, albeit a bit awkwardly. “I want you to try and let this go after tonight…It’s time I took responsibility for my actions. It’s my fault after all. There’s nothing you can do to help her.” 
Whatever endorphins that the hug releases in your brain are enough to physically calm you down enough that you can breathe a little easier. “So what am I supposed to do then?” 
“All you need to do is stay here in this chair. I’ll come to get you when it’s over.” 
Before he releases you, Papa sighs. He waits until your sobs have calmed before he lets you go with a comforting pat on your back, and then he guides you down into the large cushy armchair next to his dresser. 
He takes a moment to grab a blanket from the trunk at the end of the bed. He unfolds it halfway before draping it around your shoulders. It’s a little bit haphazard, but the gesture is received all the same. 
Now that you’re a little calmer, you let yourself relax. He adjusts the blanket around you to tuck you in, then pushes your hair out of your face. 
“Stay here,” he repeats. He looks at you with more concern in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before as he tries to read your expression. 
You sigh, and the remnants of your sobs rattle your breath. Eventually, you nod your head. 
“Okay…” you agree, and then nervously add: “Don’t take too long.” You’re not sure where it comes from. 
Papa nods, and his eyebrows knit together with emotion. “Of course not.” 
You hadn’t realized you’d had so much tension in your body still until it releases. You slump down in the chair and release a sigh – also one you didn’t realize you’d held in. 
Whenever he rises back up to his feet, he lets out an old-man grunt of effort. He hasn’t even gone outside yet and it’s obvious that he’s exhausted. Not that you can blame him, of course. And though you’d stopped counting after a while, just a few months had run you ragged. What must it be like to have your existence whittled down to the worst things you’ve done, no matter how hard you try and fix the mistakes of the past? 
It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. He certainly reaps what he sows, but regardless you don’t envy the twenty-something-odd years of baggage that he’s carried with him all this time. He’s dug himself a hole so treacherous that he’s the only one capable of navigating out of it unharmed at this point. It must be daunting.  
Before he leaves, he takes a moment to pull himself together. You don’t think he knows that you can see around the blankets based on the way he lets his facade crack. His face visibility breaks as emotions overcome him. He takes a moment to compose himself, wiping at his eyes viciously and pushes down all his feelings.  
You recognize it all too well – of course that’s where Annie got it from. 
It makes you so genuinely sad to see Papa struggling that it sends you into another bout of hysterics. You hold it in just as long as it takes for him to leave, but as soon as the door closes you make no effort to quell your sobs anymore. 
The moment that you let the flood loose, you’re swept away in it. It’s overwhelming in the worst possible way. 
You’re plagued by the uncertainty you feel, and for a moment your brain runs wild. 
Is this really what this life has turned into? Is this actually happening to you right now? It started out so idealistic and felt so right… How could something so genuine have devolved into something that feels like a nightmare of your own? Sometimes you wonder if that’s all this is – maybe Annie was never the one with the issue. You’re the one stuck and you can’t escape. If you squeezed your eyes shut tightly enough, then maybe you can force yourself to wake up. 
Wherever, whenever you end up has got to be better than this. The things you’ve experienced in the past were objectively worse than having your girlfriend freak out on you… But it really wasn’t just that anymore, was it? 
It started before she even left, you realize. The first time you felt this way was when she found out she had to go back to Paradis. You’d been so afraid that you were going to lose her that you couldn’t recognize that she was already gone. 
She was gone the minute she knew she’d have to go back. You put your best effort forward and still, you watched as she slipped through your fingers. 
How the fuck could that NOT be your fault? How could you not blame yourself? 
It feels like the life you’ve spent so much time and effort building out here might fall apart, and you’re sickened that it makes you nostalgic for the time she spent in the crystal. At least back then, you didn’t know what it was like. Now that you’ve experienced a taste of the domestic happiness you wanted so badly with her for all those years, you can’t imagine living without it. 
You’re not entirely sure what exactly scares you so much. It’s not like you’re going to be kicked out onto the street. Annie is more than your significant other, she’s your everything. When something happens to you, she’s the first person you want to tell. You tell her everything. She’s the only person in the world who knows everything about you, and you’re the only one who knows everything about her. 
For so long you turned to one another for comfort and validation. Even just for attention – basic social needs. All three of you have a lot of time on your hands out here. A few months ago she would happily chatter on about this or that project she wanted to take on, or explain whatever she’s been working on to you. 
It feels like she never talks to you anymore. Not only that, but you hardly even see her doing the things she enjoys. She stops painting, stops carving. It was noticeably concerning, but every time you try to point out that she’s clearly not okay she just brushes you off. Asking her any questions about how she feels gets the same reaction as if you’d tried to pull teeth.  
So badly do you miss the days where she’d come to find you from across the cottage just to tell you about the plot twist in her book, or to show you something she found in the grass or from the garden. She hardly ever even looks at you anymore save for when you specifically get her attention. 
Even when she does listen, her eyes are vacant like she’s hardly paying attention. For the first time in years you feel like she doesn’t want to be around you. These days you get more from Papa than from her. It really fucking sucks. 
You miss her. You miss the life that you’d had out here, and you don’t understand why she’s gotten so depressed or what you could possibly do to help. 
After the worst of the panic passes, despair ebbs into curiosity. 
You could try and pretend like it’s for some greater purpose, that you’re listening so you can know how to better help them – after all, even if Annie was talking to you she won’t remember anything, and Papa has never been forthcoming. But honestly, that’s not why you end up choosing to snoop. 
It’s really not any more complicated than you being nosy, in the end. The context of Annie’s nightmare alone tells you what to expect from the interaction, but you want to listen in for yourself. You feel like you need to hear this. 
You’re not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s just the fear you might regret not finding out, in the end, that pushes you to get up. You keep the blanket around you snugly as you stumble to your feet and over to the door. 
Quickly you realize that the only way you’ll be able to hear anything outside from there is if you crack the door. The wood is just too thick. You’re worried that if you do that, Papa will notice. It doesn’t seem like a risk you’re willing to take. 
Instead, you waddle across the en suite into the bathroom. There, you feel a little safer away from the glaring yellow lamplight. Just the moon lights up the bathroom, dimly, and even though the glass still distorts the sound from outside, you can already tell that it’s a better option than listening from the door. You have a clear view of what’s going on in the garden. 
The first thing you noticed is that Annie has escalated to projectiles. The wooden stakes holding up beans and fruit bushes have been thrown like javelins, buried in the soil with severed vines still wrapped around some of them. Luckily, she seems to have exhausted her supply at this point. In fact, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything left for her to use at all. 
You undo the latch on the window slowly so it stays quiet, and silently push the window open so that you can finally discern the mumbles. You hear grunts of effort from Annie and the sound of blows landing, then the splintering of wood. You can’t see either her or her dad, but you’re not sure you want to. 
Maybe this was the world telling you that this is your chance to stop before your feelings get hurt. Maybe Papa had been right and you should have just stayed in the chair where he’d left you. 
No, it’s too late for that now. You’ve already seen the damage. Your heart is in your stomach. 
Quite literally, there’s nothing left. Nearly all the plants are ripped up or somehow broken. You can’t even see her at first glance, but you’re so overwhelmed that you can’t bring yourself to look. 
All of a sudden, you change your mind. You abandon the idea of snooping and run to lean against the sink. 
Tears flow down your cheeks despite trying to hold them in. It’s all too much, this night, everything about it. It destroys you that it’s happening at all, and the fact that such old wounds were still literally destroying aspects of her life. The poor garden… 
It was the heart of the home, both literally and figuratively. It connected the three buildings physically, and from the flowers and shrubs lining the fences to the garden that you eat from, it was by far the most closely-tended bit of land. It was beautiful and important to all three of you, and now it was completely and totally wrecked. There was nothing usable. No harvest to be salvaged, nothing to sustain you anymore. 
It wasn’t like you would starve or anything. You go to the market on a regular basis and you could just buy more food. It was the emotional aspect of losing everything that you worked so hard to build here with her. Right now you couldn’t even try to find a bright side. The depression overtakes you and you let yourself collapse in front of the sink in tears. 
What you want to do is embrace the emptiness. You wish you could lie down on this cold tile floor and dissolve. The wind will sweep away your body bit by bit as it erodes mountains and boulders. Tiny little pieces of you will scatter one atom at a time until you’re everywhere and everything. You’ll be strewn throughout the world in a million places at once, and most importantly, you won’t be in pain anymore. 
Even then, when you’re nothing, would you feel as lost as you do right now? This isn’t good or evil. There’s no moral decision to come to terms with, and maybe that’s why you struggle so much. You can still make a choice that will push Annie away even if you have the best intentions. 
You have nothing to win. In every scenario, you lose. Right now it feels so suffocating like there's no possible way out. 
Are you supposed to fix this, when it's so behind hope? What you wouldn't give for anything else to be happening to you right now. 
A high-pitched shriek from outside snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s clearly Annie –  you don’t even have to hear her speak to recognize her voice. You go back to peer out the window, and somehow you will yourself to look past the wreckage. Desperately, you search for movement or a familiar silhouette. 
Annie cries out again, and the noise aims you in the right direction. She’s on her hands and knees close to the barn, scrambling backward in the dirt, flinging debris left and right as she tries to avoid her dad. 
“Get away from me!” she screams. 
Papa stands with his hands up in defense about fifteen feet away. “I haven’t moved any closer,” he points out.  
It doesn’t seem to matter. She tosses a handful of ripped-up leaves and broken stems in his direction. “I said to get away from me!” 
He sighs, but he doesn’t flinch when plants shower on top of his nightclothes. He doesn’t even bother to brush them away. He just stares ahead with no expression. 
“If I stay where I am, will you stop throwing things?” 
She looks in both directions like she’s considering her options, and shrugs after a few moments. 
“Probably not,” she admits. 
Papa laughs, a little dryly. 
“Thanks for your honesty. If it makes you feel better, keep at it,” he says apathetically. He goes as far as to roll something toward her with his foot – maybe lettuce, or a head of broccoli? – from this distance, you can’t tell. 
Annie accepts the ammunition, holding it aimed, locked, and loaded. “I will not hesitate to throw this at your face,” she threatens.  
All he does is stand there. “That’s fine. You can throw it.” 
She winds herself up, cocking the vegetable above her shoulder, ready to hurl it. Now it sounds like she’s about to cry. 
“I’ll really do it!” she shrieks, her voice getting more desperate. 
Once again, her dad puts up no fight. “Okay.” 
The vegetable sails through the air, revealing itself to be broccoli as it shatters against his shoulder and flies in every direction. He barely flinches as he absorbs the entire impact of the blow, just takes it. All he does is stagger backward a few steps. 
Even from here, you can tell how hard of a collision it was, but Papa makes no sounds of complaint or pain. He holds his shoulder, though he still stands. 
There’s a long silence so oppressive and thick that you struggle to breathe. 
“So, is it helping?” he asks eventually. His voice isn’t angry or resentful, just weary. He’s sad, worn by so many years of regret, just now accepting the reality that this is where she’s ended up. 
There’s more crying and grunting from Annie on the other side of the garden, who now drops to her knees as she scrambles to find something else to throw. 
“Get it all out, there’s another pile on your left.” 
Quickly she finds the aforementioned ammo sitting a few feet over. A chunk of potatoes, roots, and dirt smacks into his stomach a few moments later. You hear an audible grunt on impact afterward. It’s not as hard of a blow, but even from across the yard it’s clear that he’s struggling to keep himself upright. Yet Papa doesn’t let himself wobble and remains as tall as he can manage. 
Just seconds later, an eggplant hurtles end-over-end to smack him right in the head. You gasp, expecting him to be hurt. Maybe it’s in the shock but he doesn’t seem to react to this blow at all. He stays there hunched over for a few moments as the garden goes quiet. 
Luckily, after this third throw, Annie gives up on attacking. She can’t seem to find anything in the general vicinity and it visibly overwhelms her. She buries her face in her hands, and defeated, she collapses to the ground. 
You watch with bated breath, not sure what to expect. The silence and stillness put you at unease. This is a loud and tumultuous affair and it doesn’t make sense. There’s a long moment where Papa just stands there, seemingly stunned. You’re right at the moment when you’re asking yourself why he isn’t doing anything when he finally does. 
Slowly and deliberately, he starts to make his way over to her. He keeps his distance at first and when he gets close enough for her to be aware of him, he calls out. “I’m coming closer now. I’m not going to hurt you.” 
“I’m not taking a break! I’ve been training this whole time,” Annie pleads, terrified. 
He sighs heavily. “I don’t care about that anymore.”
“Wh– what?” Annie asks, her voice cracking. 
There’s a long silence, and when he speaks again there’s a tremble in his voice that makes you feel even less sure than you already did. 
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” he tells her, more firmly this time, “In fact, I think you’re long overdue to take a break.”
You can barely hear her with the way she’s crying, but at some point, you hear a word squeak out amidst the heaving. “Really?” 
Papa nods as he walks a little closer. As he does, he blocks her from the view you have of her from where you sit. 
“You can rest. You’ve done perfectly,” he says. 
“...I have?” 
Although you can’t see her anymore, you can still hear everything. You want to move again so that you can see them, but you’re also frozen in place. 
“Yes. I’m proud of you, Annie. Rest, okay?” 
You can hear in the way her breathing quickens that she’s getting frantic. “I – I don’t know how…” she admits. 
Papa sinks down, presumably to his knees. “That’s alright. We’ll figure it out together.” A few long seconds pass before he asks: “Is it okay if I hug you?” 
She doesn’t respond, but the fact that she doesn’t shove him away is enough. It’s so dark that you can hardly see what’s happening aside from the vague dark shadows of movement. You hear Papa wheeze as he sits down on the grass, then Annie starts crying more intensely a few seconds later. 
“I’m sorry,” she says loudly after a few seconds. 
Her dad says something in response, but it’s too quiet for you to hear. What’s left of the fence now obscures most of your view. 
It’s not good enough. You’ve heard too much to back down now. Ever nosy, you back away from the window and walk back through the en suite. The blanket falls from your shoulders and onto the floor behind you. 
The door handle clicks and disengages quietly, but then the door creaks as you push it open. Even though you were told to stay in the chair, you’re not really afraid of being seen. Most of the reason that you stay quiet is that you don’t want to interrupt. 
You crouch behind the overturned table a few feet away to hide, willing yourself to be silent. You still can’t hear anything, so you hold your hand over your mouth to cover the sound of your breathing. Now that you’re closer the hushed whispers between them start to become audible.
It’s not just Papa talking, you realize. Annie is speaking in surprisingly full, coherent sentences. She doesn’t sound present, though. Her words are slightly slurred and empty of emotion, sleepily mumbled out.  
“No, I’m not upset at all. You’re not in trouble right now.” 
You glance around the edge of the table and catch a glimpse of Annie’s hair. Her face is buried in her dad’s shoulder, her voice so muffled that it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry. All I ever do is hurt people…”
Papa shakes his head.“That isn’t true. You have so much to offer the world and your family. You’re smart, and you’re strong. Not just your body, either. I’m so proud of the way that you take care of Y/N, and of me.” 
As she curls in further, her eyes disappear out of sight. “But I’ve hurt you.” 
“Well, I hurt you too,” he reminds her. His fingers scrunch up in her hair to comfort her as he holds her close. “It’s never something I’ve resented you for.”
She sniffles. “Really?” 
“Of course not. I was always proud, even if it wasn't for the right reasons,” he says, “At first it was just because of how much progress you made, but after a few years I realized: you proved that day you won’t let yourself be treated poorly by someone who claims to love you. That wasn’t something I taught you, for sure. But it’s come to be one of the things I admire about you most.” 
When he stops speaking for a moment, a silence so heavy and filled with uncertainty fills the air, that you’re grateful when you hear his voice again. 
“I wish that you could have had a father in me before I sent you out into the world. I was too stubborn and proud. Because of it, we both missed out on so much. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” 
Annie remains quiet. From behind the table, you're hit with another wave of emotions. The hand on your mouth tightens as your sobs threaten to burst out. 
Papa continues on. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good father. I’m sorry that I thought it was enough to give you food and a home, and that I made you fight instead of letting you be a kid,” Papa’s voice starts to waver, but he continues on as his daughter sobs in his arms. “I’m sorry that I did things so wrong back then that you’re still hurting now. I wish I knew how to fix it… but sometimes it feels like it can’t be fixed. You have every reason in the world to hate me–” 
“– no!” Annie interrupts, all of a sudden. It stops him dead in his tracks. 
“That’s not true,” she cries, “I don’t hate you at all.” 
Now it’s Papa’s turn to sniffle, left wordless. “Really?” 
“Never. You’re my dad…” 
You’re so upset that you throw up in your mouth a little bit. The first instinct you have is to choke it back down, but you’re so viscerally upset that you realize you’re genuinely about to hurl. It’s all you can do to aim away from the place where you’re sitting.
There’s a long silence after that, much longer than you’re comfortable with  After you manage to pull yourself together enough to move, you once again peek your head around the table.
He’s not talking because he’s crying, you realize all at once. You had barely even heard Papa’s voice break before this – you’ve never seen him lose his composure, never seen him give in to vulnerability like this. His stoicism didn’t allow for such weakness, or so he thought. Now, it seems like he’s evolving. 
“I love you, Annie,” he chokes, “I really am sorry. For everything.” 
She mutters sleepily, hardly intelligibly: “Love you too.” 
As she readjusts to a more comfortable position, you can see that the look on her face is finally peaceful. Tears still shine on her cheeks but she’s not crying anymore – it seems like she’s fallen back asleep all the way. 
It seems like it’s over. You put your hand back over your mouth again to quiet yourself, terrified to move. At this point what you’re afraid of is interrupting such an insanely personal moment for Papa. The telltale sounds of crying still echo in the garden. 
All you can think of is how you feel after Annie has a nightmare. You usually want to be left alone to wallow in your misery, so you want to respect his privacy if that’s what he wants, too. 
Unfortunately, it seems like that’s not what he needs tonight. 
“Y/N? Can you hear me?” he calls out after a few seconds, his voice still shaking, “I know you don’t listen. You’re out there somewhere, right?” 
You freeze. Maybe it’s not too late for you to creep back inside and pretend that you stayed in the chair the whole time and that you hadn’t heard a thing. Though, any potential plan is quickly foiled when you step on something that cracks loudly – either a twig or some poor uprooted plant thrown across the yard. 
Ah, shit, you think. 
“I don’t care if you heard what I said,” he says. Immediately it relieves some of the uneasiness. He sighs, “but I don’t think I’ll be able to carry Annie inside by myself... I need your help to get up.” 
Something in your gut twists at the admission. You don’t make the conscious decision to start moving, but before you know it you’re climbing to your feet. You stumble your way across the broken garden. 
When you get to where Papa can see you, you freeze. You’re overwhelmed by your emotions again at the sight of him
“Come here, please,” he asks. You can see why he won’t be able to get up on his own; Annie is basically half-draped across him, leaning. 
Her head is still on his shoulder, lolling now that she’s fully unconscious again. They’re both sitting on the ground, but all of the weight of her upper body is being supported by the fact that her arms are around his shoulders. He looks at you sadly and continues to stroke her hair. 
Again you’re completely overwhelmed by emotion, and you can’t help but fling your arms around him. It throws him a little bit off-kilter, but you have enough balance to keep all three of you upright. 
“I’m sorry…” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, really. It occurs to you later that you could’ve thanked him, but when he’s crying the way he is you feel paralyzed. 
To your surprise, he turns around and says: “I’m sorry to you, too.” 
It catches you off guard. “Why?” you ask, and pull back so that you can see his face. 
Papa shakes his head. “This is affecting you now, too. I wish I could take away this pain, for you both. It never should have existed in the first place.” 
Your lower lip trembles as once again you feel doubt creeping into the back of your mind. This isn't your family, not really. You’re still the outsider. “You really don’t owe me anything.” 
He rolls his eyes. Not maliciously, but because his arms are still in use. “It’s not about that. It’s my job to take care of you whether you think you need me or not. That’s what fathers do for their children, and the world has decided to bring me another daughter.”
A beat of silence passes. Tears start to form in your eyes as you realize the full weight of those words. Should you hug him again? Should you tell him what he means to you, too? It takes a moment for your brain to catch up. 
“I love you too, you know,” he adds. It’s tacked on the end as if it’s a side thought. Like it’s not one of the most impactful things that an adult has ever said to you.  
A million emotions hit you at once. Despite the fact that you’re physically holding everyone up, you yourself collapse. You can’t help it. Between what you’d witnessed and what he’d just said, you’re overwhelmed.  
Papa’s hand on your back draws you back into the moment. He doesn’t let go of Annie, but he shifts most of her weight into one of his arms so that he can put the other around your shoulders. You’re conscious of his limitations as you lean into the group huddle, holding all of your own weight on your knees. 
You take the opportunity to try and center yourself again, to calm some of your less rational emotions. 
The three of you just sit there for a minute – well, it’s really just the two of you, since Annie is dead asleep. You sit there with one arm resting gently on her waist and your other around Papa’s shoulder.
Honestly, the only measure of how much time passes you notice is that it’s long enough that your knees go numb. It doesn’t feel real, any of it. For the dozenth time that night, everything hits you all over again. 
Is this going to be the new normal? You look around at the destroyed garden from the destroyed rows to the splintered fences and realize that you can’t keep doing this to yourself. No matter how high the highs are, if this is what the lows are like… it scares you.  
You need to believe that this was a freak occurrence, something that would never happen again. Yet the night she broke your nose you’d secretly hoped the same thing. As horrible as that had been, maybe you should have anticipated that it would get worse. It always does, after all. 
It’s all just too much. This is so overwhelming, to be sitting in the aftermath of… whatever this is. This horrible, horrible nightmare come to life. There’s a part of you that wants to clean it up before the sun comes up so that you don’t have to face the hard truth in the light of day. Maybe if you avoid looking at it you can ignore that it’s happening. 
You haven’t felt like this since the night your nose was broken. This time, however, you don’t have any physical pain to distract you from the gaping hole inside of you. Even after watching it, not even for the first time, there’s still a part of you that can’t comprehend that Annie was capable of hurting you. The broken nose was easy to rationalize as an accident, but this? 
This is a really, seriously tangible difference. You can’t hide the trashed garden behind a layer of concealer and an upbeat attitude. You can’t make excuses to keep people away until you’ve got your shit together. 
It’s bad this time, and the both of you know it. After he lets himself go for a moment, Papa sobers up, then sighs deeply. 
“Can’t sit here forever. You can take her into my room if you don’t want to go up the stairs,” he offers, looking up at you guiltily. His expression says what he doesn’t - that he’d be the one carrying her if he could. That he wishes he didn’t have to ask for your help, either. 
Gently, he transfers Annie into your arms. Together you both lower her onto the grass with as little turbulence as you can manage. You stand first, then extend both hands to Papa. He slowly rises to his feet with no lack of trouble, groaning and cursing all the while until you finally heave him up. 
As he limps back across the yard into his room, you keep an eye on  but you try not to stare. Instead, you consider the best way to carry her and try to judge how far you’ll have to go. She looks shockingly unbothered. 
It’s a short enough distance that you feel confident in carrying her bridal style. You scoop her up underneath her shoulders and knees and lift. You stagger forward as you struggle to gather your balance, but once you stabilize, you’re able to power on. 
Papa is holding the door to his bedroom open. By the time you stumble through the door, your strength is failing you. You drop Annie onto the bed a little harder than you intend to but she doesn’t seem affected by it. She stays in the exact same position she lands in, so you try to straighten out her body a little so she doesn’t wake up with a cramp. 
For a while, you stay on the end of the bed to watch over her. You don’t pay much attention to anything besides watching the slow rise and fall of her chest until you feel a familiar weight around your shoulders. Again a blanket is clumsily wrapped around your shoulders. 
You look up to see Papa standing above you with his arms out. He looks more broken than you’ve ever seen him. 
As he did with Annie earlier, he approaches you cautiously: “Can I hug you?” 
You’re not the same way they are. Maybe you never have been, but especially not after these past few months. He doesn’t need to ask. You don’t want to be asked. There’s this deep aching loneliness inside of you that gnaws at you – and maybe it just means that you’re soft like he always points out, but you want to be doted on unconditionally. 
You can’t manage to verbalize a response. Luckily Papa picks up on what isn’t said by the way you weakly reach out to him with tears in your eyes. He sits down on the end of the bed to hug you. 
This time, there are no tears left in you. You cry silently as you let yourself relax into the hug, gasping and shaking. It feels totally hopeless and like no amount of reassurance would help, though he does try anyway.
“It’s okay,” he says as he pats your back, “it’s over now.” 
Instead of being a comfort, his words make the dread inside of you grow exponentially. Your breathing quickens, your vision blurs, and something in your chest grows tight and painful. Even though you know you’re panicking you can’t stop yourself from spinning out and letting your emotions get the best of you. 
Papa sees your reaction and pulls you back by your shoulders. He extends one arm at a time to look you up and down – you’re a bit confused at first but also too overwhelmed to protest. 
“Are you hurt?” he asks. It’s then you realize that he’s checking you for injuries. 
You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just–” you break his gaze as you pull away. Your arms go limp at your sides. “It’s not over. Maybe it’s done for tonight, but what about the next time this happens? It’s only getting worse.” 
Papa’s lips press together tightly. He considers your words for a moment before tilting his head in acknowledgment. The fact that he doesn’t verbally respond is enough to bring tears back to your eyes. It feels like his reaction is a confirmation that it’ll be horrible forever. 
It leads you to spiral a bit. “It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair,” you spit, bitterly, “I don’t recognize this. She would never do this… Why is this happening?” 
“I wish that I had answers for you,” he tells you, “you know that I would take away her pain if I could.” 
You nod, and as you start to cry again, Papa finally catches on that you need wordless instinctive comfort. He puts his hand on your shoulder. 
“It’s going to be okay,” he repeats. 
“–is it, though?” you ask. It’s hard not to let yourself spiral, but you do your best to hold it together. 
“I hope so,” he says, though he sounds uncertain. He sighs. “Sometimes I worry that my being here is hurting her.” 
You look up at him. “What do you mean?” 
“Do I even need to explain after what we both just saw?”
“No…” you admit, but you recall the many conversations you’ve had about the subject. “She needs you, too. She’s wanted you here from the start.” 
Papa shrugs. “Hmm. Annie doesn’t always know what’s good for her.”
He’s right, but you still feel the need to defend her. “That’s not fair. She doesn’t know how.” Your lower lip trembles. “For so long she couldn’t accept that she has feelings like everyone else. She’s only just figured out how to be honest with herself.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. If she can be honest, then maybe it’s time for her to reevaluate what she wants.”
All you can do is stare at him. “What the hell are you saying? It would be so much worse if you weren’t here. What am I supposed to do without you?”
“You saw what happened tonight,” he says sadly, “I’ve never seen her like this before. I’m worried that she needs more help than the two of us can give her by ourselves. We can’t keep doing this – not like this.” 
What you want to do is argue. He was the only person who could have possibly talked her down tonight. You couldn’t have done a thing for her and more than that, you couldn’t even bring yourself to go near her. 
You get why Annie wants him here. Nowadays, you need a parent just as much as she does. 
“I can’t take too many more beatings like that at this age,” he cracks a smile to try and break the tension, but it doesn’t work. Quickly, his face falls again. “More than that, look at you. When is the last time you slept through the night? You keep denying the toll this is taking on you but I can see how much it weighs on you. Neither of us can keep going like this.” 
He’s right, and you know it. The stakes are too high, and all the events from the night had done was put that into perspective. You knew that it was only a matter of time before things escalated. Is it really worse than you imagined it to be, or was it always going to be hard to watch no matter how it happened? 
It was bad, but you already knew that. Until now you were able to rationalize a million different reasons as to why you bottled up your own feelings. It only made things worse for everyone. 
You let out a defeated sigh as more tears roll down your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted is to make Annie happy.” 
He puts his arms around your shoulders. 
“I know you do, but we clearly haven’t been doing any favors for her lately,” he says, surprisingly gently. “Something needs to change.” 
“So what are we supposed to do, then?” 
“I have no idea,” he admits, “but right now I think we should sleep. It’ll be hours until the sun comes up.” 
“You’re tired?” 
“Down to my bones,” he nods wearily, “and so are you.” 
He’s right. Your eyes feel like sandpaper, but you groan in reluctance. 
Papa nods sympathetically, and re-wraps the blanket around you more snugly. “Lie down, Y/N, you need the rest.” 
He sits down in the chair a few feet away with his arms crossed. Immediately he closes his eyes and goes dead silent, and it genuinely seems like he’s already fallen asleep. 
You feel too guilty letting him sleep without saying something more. Surely he knew how much you appreciated him, and especially so after tonight… the part of you that was raised right can’t bear to not show some kind of gratitude beyond what goes unspoken. 
“Thank you for your help tonight… and I’m sorry.” Even though you try really hard to keep your voice even, it breaks anyway. 
Papa sniffs. “Of course,” he says, “I’m sorry, too.” 
You know that if you look up and see him crying that it’ll push you over the edge again. So badly you don’t want to break down again, that when more tears inevitably come, you just let them drip down into your hair as you stare blankly at the ceiling. Something deep inside of you aches. 
“I don’t want to lose the two of you,” you mumble in the midst of your existential dread. 
Papa doesn’t say anything, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep. Then you hear a heavy sigh float across the room followed by the comforting rumble of his voice. 
“Get some sleep, kid. We’ll both still be here when the sun is up.”  
You nod. After a few minutes of silence, you roll onto your side to look at Annie and push her hair out of her face. For a long while, you sit there staring at her and thinking. 
It makes you feel better to know that Papa is just as clueless as you are. You don’t want to be alone in this struggle. And even though you still feel absolutely horrible, you also feel slightly less alone. It was too much to handle on your own. 
All you wish is that she didn’t have to fall so low. 
In the end, if you sleep again that night at all, it’s so fitful you don’t even realize it. For a while, you close your eyes just so they won’t get so dehydrated. 
You wish you’d slept. Maybe it would have made you make better choices. 
At some point, birds start to sing and the sun begins to rise, dusking the windows and casting a pale light in through the bathroom. It’s around then that you start pulling yourself together and shoving everything down. 
It’s too much, too out of your control. Maybe there’s nothing you can do for her anymore, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself break down in front of her. It’s the worst possible choice you could’ve made, but you unhealthily rationalize that it’s better to put up a front. 
It doesn’t even occur to you at the moment how hypocritical it is, and when it hits you later you just bottle it up even harder. It makes you feel like shit – you know how it feels to be lied to and it’s not something you’d ever bring upon her. And even though you recognize it’s an issue, it feels like the right move. 
But this is different, right? You’re doing it to protect her, and it never occurs to you that maybe Annie had thought the same thing
By the time she begins to stir, you’ve plastered a fake smile on your face so convincingly that even to you it feels genuine. You don’t know what to do, but making her feel guilty can’t do anything but make the situation worse. Even if it’s to your detriment, you’ll keep pushing through. 
88 notes · View notes
tsukidrama · 2 years
Text
desperation [nsfw]
off the beaten path (a trnt side story)
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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: thigh-riding, partially clothed sex, and Annie's fingersssssss
ao3 | the road not taken | cottagecanon
setting: the beginning of chapter 2, the cottage
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author’s note: throwing up bc i want her so bad
word count: 1.7k
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The most time-consuming part of finishing the interior of the house was decorating it. Painting and detailing was finished in three days. It took another few days to deliver and transport the furniture. Once it arrived at the house, lugging it up the front steps took less time than it took for Annie to decide where she wanted to put everything. Eventually you start unloading boxes of pots, pans, and other cooking tools over in the kitchen, and all the while you hear the creak and scrape of the couches and desks being pushed around in the next room over.
The first night you spend at the house is the day the two of you struggle for an hour to haul a queen-sized mattress around the curve in the indoor staircase. And eventually you manage to bend it in the middle, and Annie uses a surge of strength to deadlift it while you guide it in the room. The mattress falls down on the bedroom floor at long last. That first night you don’t even bother to put on sheets, and you just collapse together in a mess of limbs.
-
Neither of you moves for about an hour. At first, you’re grateful for the reprieve. You stretch out onto the mattress and let your spine decompress, popping one disk at a time. Annie’s legs settle on top of yours, trapping you in place. You’re not going anywhere, it’s fine. 
At some point, you feel her tapping on your hip with her hand, trying to get your attention. You reach down to hold her hand and it seems to satisfy her for the time being. 
The both of you are so exhausted that you stay there for a while, resting in silence. Relief floods through you to the point where you start to doze off a bit. Your eyes slip close and your mind grows hazy. 
It doesn’t really surprise you when Annie’s fingers unclasp from yours. Her hand stays on your hip, rubbing gentle circles on the fabric of your pants. To be honest, you figure that she’s just being sweet until you feel her fingers slip beneath the waistband. 
Immediately, your eyes fly open and you lift your head. 
“Hmm,” she giggles, “I thought that might get your attention.”
Annie doesn’t have a particularly good angle from where she is, but she can reach far enough to play with the elastic on your underwear. She snaps it with a smirk. 
You’re still sweaty and dirty, but it’s the last thing you’re thinking about. She doesn’t climb off of you – in fact, she just pins you down further as she climbs over you to straddle your hips. Her hands wrap around your wrists, pushing them down into the mattress. 
“Oh…” you mumble. A blush overtakes you. You’re not embarrassed so much as flustered, taken aback by the unexpected move as you suddenly come face to face, “...well hello there.” you say to her. 
“Hey,” she whispers, as she leans in for a kiss. 
Her nose bumps against yours. It’s a little sloppy and uncoordinated, messy. She isn’t well balanced, and her knees slip on the blanket to make her fall forward on top of you. 
Annie seems unaffected by it though, as she just uses it as a way to bury her face in your neck. The warm exhale of her breath against your skin makes you shiver. You try to kiss her again, but when you’re close enough to lean in she grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back. 
It makes you gasp. While your head is thrown back she uses the new angle to run her tongue up your neck. She giggles again when you moan softly, and kisses the skin to draw more noises out. She’s being gentle and light to purposefully tease you. 
She pulls at the base of your shirt, freeing it from beneath you and yanking it right over your head. As she gets rid of the garment, you unbutton her pants and push them down. 
There’s a moment where she pulls away, just long enough for the both of you to strip off your bottoms. You go ahead and hook your thumbs around your panties as well and toss them somewhere off to the side with the rest of the discarded clothes. 
Immediately Annie notices and smiles wickedly as she grabs your ass with both hands. She gives it a big squeeze before she pulls you closer by the waist. This time when she climbs on top of you, she straddles you so that she presses against you with her knee. It provides enough friction that your back arches. 
You can’t help but moan as you lean in to kiss her; she’s so tiny that she has to stretch her neck to reach you properly. Whenever she leans back down on her heels, she grinds against your thigh purposefully. Wetness soaks through her panties so thoroughly that it smears on your leg, and your gut burns for how badly you want her. 
She knows what you want – she’d started this in the first place, after all. Part of you wonders she might leave you hanging indefinitely with nothing other than the blunt pressure of her knee, with the way she’s going at it on your thigh. She bites her bottom lip and breathes heavily as her hips swivel around. 
You genuinely couldn’t complain if she didn’t. While the growing wet spot on her panties is certainly turning you on, it’s the little noises she makes in the crook of your neck that affect you the most. Every whimper muffled by your shoulder, every moan she tries to keep down goes straight between your legs. It’s starting to grow unbearable. 
“Oh… nnghh. Please, come on,” you beg, gazing up at her with the most alluring fuck-me eyes you can muster up. “I need you.”
Annie moans into your collarbone. The slight reverberation of her voice tickles your skin and honestly, your instinct is to pull her closer still. Her warm breath against your skin makes your head feel light. 
She shudders above you, her hips stuttering. “S-sorry, hah. It just feels really good,” she whispers behind your ear, her breath shaking as it puffs in your hair. “Open up for me.” 
Without a moment’s hesitation, you oblige. She readjusts herself to a more stable position, though unfortunately for her it means her position grinding against you becomes less than ideal. You wrap one of your arms around her shoulder to pull her closer. 
In return, she puts her around your back to effectively hold you in place. You end up being glad you’re holding onto her when you feel her reach between your thighs. 
First, she dips two fingers inside, swirling them ever so slightly to slicken them. When she starts to rub your clit, she muffles the groan of pleasure that it elicits with a kiss. As her hand continues to move in small circles and she grows bolder, it becomes clear she’s had her fill with teasing you. 
Annie’s hips start moving faster. One of her knees locks her wrist in place so that her hand works in tandem with each thrust. She moans into you, only breaking the kiss whenever she pulls away to gasp for breath. 
“Yes, touch me,” you whisper into her skin, “touch me, please…” 
As she continues to grind on you, you push the fabric of her shirt up to expose her breasts. Again she crumples into the crook of your neck as you play with one of her nipples. 
The soft vibrations of her voice against your neck send shocks down to your toes while the steady pressure on your clit works you closer to the edge. It builds much more quickly than you anticipate – it’s embarrassing, really, but you can’t help it. 
It’s all so good, and you’re so consumed with so many physical sensations that it saps away your self-control: her lips nuzzling your neck, the smooth curve of her breast against your hand, the pleasure she thrums up in your gut, the searing wet heat rubbing against your thigh… 
As her pace quickens and her movements grow more erratic, her panties have slipped off to the side. Her bare cunt grinds against you deliciously, intoxicatingly. The more she gets into it, the more you feel drip down your leg. You have no regard for how messy it might be, you can’t get enough. You’re mesmerized by the way her hips stutter and jerk back and forth. 
She speeds up her motions a little bit in her excitement, and it builds you up to the point where you feel you might burst. 
“Yeah – like that,” you cry out, pressing your lips against the top of her head, “I’m gonna cum.” 
She nods into your shoulder, panting and pressing messy open-mouthed kisses. A strained “Mhmm,” is all you hear from her as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. 
Right as you don’t think you can hold back anymore, her grip on you tightens. A moan builds in her throat, and when her fingers start shaking you realize that she’s close. It’s the final push that sends you right over the edge alongside her, so you grip her waist to pull her flush against you.
Annie comes with a high-pitched whine and loses all her composure. A gush of hot fluid runs down your leg, she twitches against you. You’re coming, too, all at once blinded by ecstasy. The pressure in your gut releases rhythmically, and she continues stroking you albeit slowly and a little shakily. 
You squeak out her name at some point while you’re lost in the pleasure, and there’s a noticeable physical reaction from her when you do. Your grip on her tightens as you ride out the pleasure. 
A few moments of soft moans fill the silence as she continues moving. When she finally stops, you let out a sigh. 
“Mmmm, much better,” she mutters as she pushes herself up. “I really needed that.” 
All you can muster in response is a flustered giggle and a hasty nod of agreement. Your face is still warm with embarrassment so you hide your face in Annie’s hair. 
She stays straddling you for a good few minutes, and you’re in no hurry for her to get off. You hold one another close, in silence aside from the sound of your breathing. A quiet, tender moment passes between the two of you. You’re both sticky, sweaty, and exhausted, but you’ve never felt closer. 
You’re still too tired to move, so you just smirk as you stroke her upper arm. “I love you,” you tell her wistfully. You wouldn’t be surprised if your pupils were shaped like hearts as you gaze up at her. 
She looks down in embarrassment – like that had been the most flustering thing that had happened just now. Maybe for her, it genuinely was. 
All these years later she still struggles to say those three little words. Her lips tremble, but she pushes through the insecurity and gives a soft, shy, “L–love you too,” in response. 
You’re not sure how much time passes before you finally clean up and lie back down again. It’s long enough that you feel your eyes begin to grow heavy and your limbs uncoordinated. The only thing on your mind is cuddling up with Annie, so everything else is insignificant in comparison. 
As you’re falling asleep, she curls into your chest with your arms around her. 
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tsukidrama · 1 year
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So I was just curious, in the road not taken, Annie and the reader have moved in together and have pretty much completely committed to spending the rest of their lives with each other, but they still refer to each other as their girlfriend. So, obviously, they aren't married, but I was just curious. Does one/both of them want to be? Or is it just a case of labels not meaning much to them? If this is something lore important that'll come up later, you don't have to answer, but if it's not, I’m curious to what the reasoning around that is.
TLDR; oh HELL to the yes. i will definitely be addressing the status of their relationship in the main plot!
let's be real, though. Annie DOES NOT care about getting married. i feel this pretty strongly actually. i love her to death and obviously, the idea of a wedding fills my heart with joy. but she would not be the one pushing to get married, she would think that's too excessive. the way Annie sees it - they live together, they sleep together, they're vulnerable with each other, they support each other, and basically every other thing that defines a married couple. what's the point of a little ceremony? it's not like it would change their relationship. even at the current moment of the story, they've BEEN together in every way that matters, for years. Annie considers them already married in every way that matters.
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tsukidrama · 6 months
Note
HEY TSUKI!! i also finished the last aot episode and i am still #dreading it but more importantly im currently in the middle of finishing trnt and i wanted to ask, will there be more of an explanation or even more interactions between papa and the lady who stopped by the house? i was wondering what her role will be in the story. anyways i wanted to say i really love your writing and am looking forward to more of it when trnt 10 comes out :3
HEY ANON! 💖
don't #dread too hard, postcanon is actually better sometimes. one of my favorite things about fandom and writing is all of the creative diversity that you have across different fic and from one author to the next.
the short answer concerning Papa's mystery woman is yes! however for now i will still be confusing my readers about her identity and how she fits into the story 😭 it's mostly because i think it's funny ngl
there is a longer answer that boils down to: nobody has questioned it too hard yet considering that they're all going through their own shit. going into ch 10 especially... everything is in shambles. the house, the people. Papa's addiction issues will be addressed before we find out exactly what's going on with the woman.
but i do reveal her name in chapter 10!
🥲 well um.. yknow like
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tsukidrama · 1 year
Text
sometimes i genuinely forget that annie's dad's real name is Mr. Leonhardt and Papa is just a name i made up for him
because like? that man's name is definitely Papa he doesn't respond to anything else
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tsukidrama · 9 months
Note
every once in a while i come back to read TRNT because it's sooo good💔💔 genuinely in love with your writing!
oh my god 🥲 thank you! it touches my shriveled-up little heart to know that people are still emotionally invested in the story.
i promise that i haven't abandoned that little world! i have every intention to see everything through until the end, though i don't yet know when.
i appreciate this message 💘😘 luv u anon
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tsukidrama · 1 year
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i was rereading ur annie series and i was just realizing that i never took the time to appreciate HOW GOOD UR WRITING IS i literally never thought i was gonna find any good annie fics bc she's such an underrated character and most of the fics i find of her are just not for me but URS ARE LITERALLY SO DIFFERENT 😭😭 the way u write annie is so accurate and realistic, the fact that you are able to take her character and add more depth into it is honestly so amazing - i know u update like every few months (this isn't me complaining) but i swear the wait is so so worth it i literally wouldn't be reading ur fics if it wasn't for mars so thank u both u guys are the best 💖💖 (PS please give a 24 hour warning before u release trnt 10 so i can mentally prepare myself for what is coming thank you 😊😊/j)
sorry this took me a few days to answer. im an emotional person and this put tears in my eyes every time i started to reply 🥺❤ my entire week is made!
wow i also didn't expect this after so much inactivity lately! thank you thank you, a thousand times thank you. i have been feeling a little discouraged by this series lately, so this is wonderful to hear 💖
also like can i just say that ilysm for saying that it's the worth the wait when i update? that make my self-confidence skyrocket so much. writing is hard but more than that, 2021 and 2022 have both been incredibly stressful and all around bad years for me and this fic has been the ONLY thing keeping me afloat creatively.
i love and cherish the fanbase TRNT has grown so much & it really warms my heart to hear from readers in any capacity. but this is soooooo uplifting.
also lol sounds like you owe double thanks to mars, because i don't think i would have even CONSIDERED writing /reader fic if she hadn't encouraged me to put my Annie ideas on paper (in computer?)
i know it's a joke but i generally do post 24 hour warnings before i drop TRNT! every chapter is pretty intense and it feels like the least i can do warn people, lmaoo
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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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.
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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ahhh its papa leonhart's birthday! i wonder what annie and reader would do for him on his day,,,
later than i'd like, although i wasn't going to write anything at all until this ask made me change my mind ♡ happy bday to our collective father in law
pancakes for papa
off the beaten path (a trnt side story)
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ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ ᴀᴘᴘʟʏ
setting: the cottage. after Annie is home again, before the garden massacre. (between TRNT 8 and 9).
ao3 | the road not taken | cottagecanon
otbp masterlist
word count: 1.7k
author's note: i just really needed this to be set after they are a family. i know y'all know how much the Leonhardt found family means to me over here...
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The night before Papa’s birthday, you offer to take care of cows for him the next morning so that he can sleep in. He laughs and offers his thanks, but you notice that he looks distinctly sad as he agrees. That next morning, you only do the bare minimum so that when he does get up, he’ll still have something to do out in the yard with the two of you. 
After the sun comes up, you cry in the kitchen because you feel so guilty about “taking away” the opportunity from him. 
Small but strong arms hug you from behind as Annie comforts you, seeming genuinely concerned about you until you tell her why it is you’re crying. Then, she starts laughing at you. 
“You think that he’s mad because you offered to do his work for him?” 
“I think he might be sad that he’s missing out on spending time with us…” you sniffle. 
She presses her fingers over her lips to quell her giggles. It doesn’t work, but at least she’s making an attempt. “Okay, but didn’t you also say that you left some things for him to do out there?”
“Yuh-huh,” you squeak. Once again you fight tears, “I felt bad–” 
Annie bursts out laughing again, although she knows she’s being insensitive. She tries to make up for it by rubbing the side of your arm. “Oh, Y/N… he’s fine. This is why he teases you, you know... and you do worry too much, my sweet girl. Shit, why are you crying?” 
Tears flow openly, and it proves her point. Yet all you really want is for everyone in the house to be happy. 
“I just want him to have a good day, you know?” you explain, “Maybe we could do something else nice for him.”
She almost looks nervous. “Just don’t overdo it, okay? My whole life I never saw him get so much as a ‘Happy Birthday’ wish, much less a present or anything.”
You already know this, and consider it to be one of the more depressing things about their life before you met them. “I feel like that’s exactly why we should do nice things for him. He’s liked everything we’ve done for him in the past couple of years.” 
“That’s true…” she admits, “but I think it’s a lot for him process too.”
A moment of silence passes. You lose a little bit of your confidence about the whole thing, but the seconds you start to deflate Annie’s face fills with regret. She grabs you by the shoulders. 
“No, I’m sorry. You’re right, let’s do something nice for him. I’m sure I’m just being overthinking it, too. It’ll be nice – I’ll help you… Here, tell me what you had in mind.” 
She wipes away your tears, then strokes your cheek with the back of her hand. You smile, knowing that she’ll help you with whatever you want to do now. 
— 
“Breakfast in bed?” she repeats, for the tenth time, “Is that really a thing people do?” 
You’re already carrying a tray full of food out through the garden – it’s too late for you to change course at this point. She brudrudgingly helped you make the batter for the pancakes, even if she tried to shoot down the idea throughout the entire process. 
“My brothers and I used to bring breakfast to my grandparents all the time growing up. Especially for my grandma when her arthritis got bad – it’s a sweet gesture, I promise.” 
She shakes her head and blushes. “He’s really never had anything like this happen before.” 
“Are you going to come up with another idea, then?” you snap, under your breath. The two of you stop in front of Papa’s door. “It’s a little late to be backing out now.” 
Annie doubts herself and you watch her have a mini, but after she takes a deep breath seems to  convince herself to knock on the door. She takes a deep breath, then raps on the heavy wood apprehensively. After a moment, she tries the doorknob only to find that it’s locked. 
The time it takes for him to answer the door is filled with a lot more anxiety than you’d antipcated. You find yourself chewing on your lip nervously, and you notice Annie is wringing her hands. Scratch everything you said earlier, you’re just as nervous as she is. Whenever the lock clicks and the door handle finally turns, she shoots you a wide-eyed, nervous look and her faces grows pale. 
“What’s going on?” Papa asks. His voice is groggy, and he seems genuinely confused as to why the two of you are standing there. “What is this?” 
“Surprise…!” you announce, “and happy birthday!” 
“Happy Birthday, Dad…” Annie mutters much more quietly as she stares down at her feet. 
It lands weakly, as he looks confused. He seems too blindsided to say anything and just blinks at you. 
The door opens all the way after a few seconds, but you aren’t invited inside or even acknowledged beyond the wide-eyed stare that bores into you . His eyes move from Annie, to you, to the tray of food that you’re holding. 
“We made breakfast,” you tell him excitedly, raising up the tray as you offer it to him. 
He doesn’t take it. Instead, he flounders for a minute as he stares at the poorly-formed pancakes stacked on the plate. 
“I usually make breakfast,” is all he says. 
Annie is still staring at the ground, conveniently opting out of the staredown you’re now stuck in. You’re worried that your intentions are going to be misinterpreted and you’ll embarrass yourself in front of both of them. 
“Yeah, I know. Since you do it every day, I thought it would be nice to do something for you instead. You know, so you can relax on your birthday,” you explain. All you get in response is more staring, and in your nervousness you continue yammering on. “I don’t know, I was thinking that we could eat together. I made the kind of bacon that you like.”
He doesn’t even know how to react, much less properly accept the gesture. Shit, you’ve blown it. Now you’re the idiot standing in silence with a tray full of food that nobody is going to eat. 
Oh god, you start to realize, I totally did overdo it. Should you just walk away? You nervously glance between Annie and her dad unsure of what to do. He’s as still as a statue and just as emotive, so a silence settles aross the yard. 
The last thing you expect is for Annie to speak up in defense of the idea. 
She sighs. “Y/N calls it ‘breakfast in bed,’” she explains, though she still doesn’t look up, “She says it’s a normal thing to do for your parents. I don’t really get it, either…” 
Finally, the tension breaks. Papa still seems a little unsure of how to react, but he does seem to understand the gesture now. Again he looks from the tray of food and back up at you. His brows furrows in an attempt to 
His mouth opens and closes before he actually speaks, his feelings written all over his face. “You made that… for me?” 
It looks like he’s terrified that the answer will be no. 
You nod happily while Annie looks like she wants to bury her face in her hands. Despite her clear embarrassment, she nods as well. 
“You helped?” he asks her, the corners of his mouth twitching. 
“Yeah… oh my god,” she mumbles, evidently humiliated by it for no apparent reason. As soon as he steps back from the door enough for her to fit past, she rushes by to get out of the interaction. 
You giggle at her bashfulness. Her dad doesn’t outright join you, but you see him fighting off visible amusement as well at her little dramatics. It’s endearing, really, though maybe in a way that only the two of you can appreciate. 
He gestures for you to enter as well, and as you do so Papa warmly pats your shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do all of this…” he reminds you, still hesitant. “It’s just another year around the sun. It’s not even worth – ”
“Can you just try the pancakes?” you interrupt. You set the tray down next to Annie where she sits cross-legged on the end of the bed. She grabs one of the pieces of toast and takes a bite out of it. 
You have to run back across the room to shepherd her dad back to sit on the bed as well. So you close the door for him, kick off your shoes, and do anything else that he might fuss over before he getss the chance. Begrudgingly, he finally sits next to his daughter and takes a proper look at what you’ve made. 
As usual, mealtime with the Leonhardts is quiet. At one point, Annie hands you a piece of toast, and at another, you nab a piece of bacon off the plate while you think Papa isn’t looking (he is). He doesn’t say anything while he eats, but you never expected him to. 
However, there’s a moment where he’s cutting into the pancakes you made for him where you see him with a genuine smile on his face. As soon as he realizes that you saw it, he blanches and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth to hide it. 
You don’t need him to say anything. The way that he offers you another piece of bacon knowing full well about the one you stole earlier tells you everything he doesn’t say out loud. He appreciates you, even if being brought breakfast in bed is something completely foreign to him. 
Even if it tests the limits of what he’s comfortable with, he recognizes that you’re showing appreciation in the way you know how. 
In the same respect, you appreciate him too, even for the things that are still a bit unnerving. You’ve learned to decipher some of his more subtle micro-expressions, how to evade some of the same types of barriers he puts up in the same way Annie did/does. 
You happily munch on your second piece of bacon while the two of them look down at the floor in silence. It’s sure to be a low-key day knowing Papa, but you can’t help but feel satisfied that you’ve gotten it off to a successful start. 
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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would you write about reader being sad about losing her little brothers and Annie comforting her about it?
scattered like seeds
off the beaten path (a trnt side story)
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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: discussion of grief / dead little kids
setting: the cottage, sometime after chapter 2
ao3 | the road not taken | cottagecanon
← previous | next →
author’s note: accidentally hurt myself real bad with this one... definitely going to be writing a happy fic about the little brothers in the future. poor reader gotta be equally as repressed as Annie to explain how much that bitch compartmentalizes
word count: 1.9k
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Chickens cluck at your ankles, bobbing their heads up and down as they run around the fenced-in enclosure You throw another handful of feed amongst the grass. Predictably, a swarm of chickens mobs the area immediately. 
It brings a nostalgic smile to your face. Animals are what you’d been missing – not only does it give you something to focus on, but it reminds you of better days. You think back to your childhood when you’d help out around your grandparents’ farm. 
You’d fed the chickens back then, too. Another handful of seeds scatters amongst the chickens. 
“They’re so loud…” Annie mutters distastefully. The birds don’t even come up to her knees, but she flinches every time one of them moves a little too quickly. She startles at the slightest bawk or the flap of a wing. 
You suppress a giggle. “Well yeah, they’re chickens. But it’s too quiet out here anyway.” 
She crosse her arms and huffs. “Hmm,” she grumbles, “That’s why I liked it.” 
More than anything, her moodiness is endearing. “You’ll get used to them soon enough,” you assure her playfully. 
Another grimace. “Do I want that, though?” 
The animals are one thing that you’re not going to budge on. Alright, you’re out in bumfuck nowhere. Her dad lives here too? Fine. But you ARE taking care of farm animals and you are NOT going to eat them. They will be your pets and it starts with the chickens. 
But in the spirit of keeping the peace, you decide to appeal to her ethos instead. 
“It reminds me of home,” you say simply. 
It works like a charm. 
Finally, Annie smiles. The grumpiness fades away as her face softens. “Yeah?”
“Yeah…”
“I’ll get used to it,” she confirms, nodding, before she sucks air in through her teeth again, “but right now, I really want to go back inside. Are we almost done?”
You can’t pinpoint whether it’s her words, or the intonation in which she says them, or maybe the all-too-familiar way she cringes away from the chickens, that triggers your deja vu. But you’ve seen this before… In your mind’s eye, you can see a little boy saying those exact same words. 
“I wanna go back inside,” he’d pouted, “Are we almost done?” 
You don’t remember what you had said in return. Had he usually come with you to feed the chickens, or was that time special? You can only come up blank. What’s more distressing than anything is the fact that the memories seem to be slipping away. You stop what you’re doing and focus entirely on retrieving the memory. 
In the process, you wall yourself up without even realizing it. Annie is still talking to you, you’re watching her mouth move, but you have no clue what she’s saying. Her words go in one ear and out the other. 
“Don’t let them peck me!” Annie cries out, shrieking. 
It’s the only sentence that cuts through the haze, and it unintentionally triggers the rest of the memory. Something inside of you freezes up as you’re is flooded by recollection. 
You’re nine years old again, carrying a basket of eggs you’d gathered for your grandparents. Two little boys are inside the coops with you shrieking and running in circles. 
“Don’t let them peck me!” your youngest brother shouts. He screams and slaps at the birds helplessly in an attempt to shoo them. His grubby little hands don’t actually hit the chickens, but he effectively scares them away. “Noooo! Save me!” 
You hold back giggles as you lean down with your arms outstretched. “Jump up here. I’ve got you, Joey.” 
He’s small enough that he can still fit on your hip if you hoist him up and young enough that he still clings to you without resentment. He squeals as he holds his feet out of reach. 
Another boy a few years older than the first guffaws across the coop. He laughs up until it causes the swarm of chickens to turn on him. 
He shrieks. “Nooo! Don’t let them come over hewe, I’m out of food! My bucket’s empty.” As they bump into him he lets out a scream.  
“Run away!” shouts Joseph from your arms. “Run, Sam!”
“Come here!” you encourage, reaching out your one free hand. Samuel cackles joyfully as he runs along the fence of the coop. He succeeds in outrunning the chickens until he reaches where you and the little one are standing. 
He manages to dash behind you. Immediately he clutches your waist, trying to push you in front of him as a human shield. You hold back your own giggles as you let him. The chickens swarm harmlessly below, doing nothing more than bumping against your legs. Your feet are pecked, but they’re harmless taps of exploration, not aggression.  
Both of the boys giggle as the lack of real danger becomes clear. You smile warmly and nuzzle into Joseph’s head. 
Since your hands are full, Samuel opens the gate of the chicken coop while you block the chicken with your leg. Even back then you were the one responsible for making sure none of the birds escape from the open door. 
You set Joey down as you re-fasten the latch on the coop door. He goes to rattle at the fence, laughing when the chickens curiously gobble through the chainlink in return. 
Suddenly, he yanks his hand away with a shout. “Ow!” he shouts, “It bit me!” 
Again Sam laughs at him. 
“Hey!” you protest. Not really even to fuss at him, but to stop Joseph from getting too upset about it.
It’s too late, though, and there are already tears welling up in his eyes. 
The three-year-old stomps his foot in defiance and sticks out his tongue. You hand off the basket of eggs to the older of the boys as you kneel down. 
“You’re alright, see?” you remind Joseph. You gently take hold of his chubby little wrist and kiss his finger to make it feel better. He smiles despite the fat tears still rolling down his cheeks. 
“Sowwy Joey,” Samuel adds bashfully after a few seconds. 
The littlest one sniffles, but moves on quickly. “S’okay Sam… but can I be the one who carries the basket?”
You giggle at how quick his turnaround was, and at how the frown is wiped from his face as the basket is handed over. 
Joseph holds your hand without you even having to ask. Sam, on the other hand, pretends to ignore you when you’d reached for his. However, after you clear your throat he gives in. 
You remember the smile on your face and the joy you felt in that moment when the three of you walked back up to the house together hand in hand. 
How could you ever have forgotten? Had you really forgotten, though? Or had you just buried it so deeply that you didn’t even realize those memories had floated away from you? Immediately, you clutch your chest as an old and familiar ache comes out. 
Annie notices your reaction and approaches you gently. “Uh, are you okay?” she asks, looking both nervous and confused. 
For a moment you stay completely frozen up. Tears well in your eyes and flow down your cheeks, seemingly out of nowhere. For a second you genuinely don’t know how to react. All you can manage to do is stare at Annie hopelessly and terrified. 
“Hey…” she mutters. All at once the seriousness of the situation seems to hit her. She crosses the distance between you to put her hands on your shoulders. Instead of forcing you to make eye contact, she just snakes arounds you to offer a quiet comfort. You try to move but you can only stumble, so you lean against the outer fence of the coop. 
Now you stare down at the chickens again. You’re finally able to get a few strained words out. “Being out here with them makes me think about my brothers.” 
Annie’s face falls. She can recall the amount of times that you’ve talked about them on one hand easily, and most of those times she had been encased in Titan crystal. At the time, it had seemed like a blessing to be able to sit there passively listening. She had no clue what to say back then, because after all, what do you say about somebody’s dead siblings? 
Now that she was seeing you upset about it for the first time, it felt much more like a curse. She regrets not thinking about it more, or not coming up with a plan to deal with your reaction. Her hands shake as her embrace on you tightens. 
“I’m sorry – I didn’t realize,” she stutters, and presses her forehead to your shoulder. “I feel stupid. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
You shake your head. “It’s not really your fault, and it’s not a bad thing, either,” you insist, although there’s a notice crack in your voice, “uh, I think. It’s lot, you know? I just — I don’t know. I miss them.”
Once again, you start to cry as more memories resurface. Little but significant things like the smell of the top of Joey’s head, or the way Sam used to hold your hand far too tightly (not that you’d ever complained). The sound of their voices, their favorite holidays and times of year. 
“Oh shit,” Annie mutters, starting to sweat a little bit, “hey, come here.” She pulls you closer to her and wipes your tears with the back of her hand. 
You cry for a little while longer while she holds you, though you’re tying to suck it up the whole time. There’s no rush or pressure, but you’re embarrassed of how it came out of nowhere. Maybe you just want to be perceived as being more put-together than you actually are. 
“Do you think it would help to talk about it?” Annie asks after a few minutes. She seems hesitant to bring the topic up again. 
You shrug as you consider it, but in the end you decide against it. The memory was top unexpected, and honestly, it hurts too much to process right now. You’re starting to calm down at long last. 
How was it that even just by remembering, it felt like someone had reached into your chest and squeezed your heart into a mangled pulp? 
Eventually, you shake your head. “For now do you think you could just… help me feed them?” 
Annie nods earnestly, all hints of hesitancy and sarcasm gone. She lets go of your shoulders and takes the bucket from your hands. 
And though she doesn’t look particularly excited about it, she even reaches into the bucket to scatter a handful of feed amidst the birds. She isn’t looking, and throws it directly on top of one of the hens, who screams like it’s being murdered and dashes into the covered coop. 
It’s enough to break the heaviness of the moment. You laugh, much to the blonde’s embarrasmmnet. Pink floods her cheeks and she pushes the bucket back towards you. 
“Your turn,” she encourages, but you know her well enough to know that with this kind of blush, what she actually means is: “Take it away now.” 
So you take it back as she loops her arm in yours. Annie leans her head on your shoulder while you scatter another handful of seeds. This time, it doesn’t land on a chicken. 
You watch them bob around, pecking and clucking between the grass. The throbbing in your chest dulls to a nostalgic ache. Finally, you let your guard down enough to let yourself rest. 
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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what happens to reader after annie goes into the crystal? does she join levi's squad? what's her experience during the war against marley? what's her reaction to reiner and bertholdt?
I IMMEDIATELY GOT SO EXCITED UPON READING THIS MESSAGE HEHE *cracks knuckles*
okay okay i'm going lay out a basic timeline from after the Female Titan arc all the way up until the timeskip!
homegirl is imprisoned for a good bit after what happens in Stohess - in an actual jail cell for a bit, but then she's allowed back into the barracks essentially on house arrest. i mentioned in the last chapter of please be that Hanji is the only person who Reader feels comfortable giving details to while interrogated. and since Hanji is a very busy bee constantly on the move, Reader ends up becoming a reluctant addition to their entourage.
during the Clash of the Titans arc reader just kind of trails behind whoever she's with at whatever given time, in handcuffs and being mopey. while shit is going down at Ulgard Castle, she's bonding with EMA while Hanji is investigating the wall titan.
y'all know how after the Survey Corps come in to kill all the titans, the only ones who will go within a 20ft radius of Ymir are Hanji (research purposes) and Hisu (gay purposes). i think that reader would be right there behind the two of them, if for no other reason to be a source of comfort for Historia. i mean, if anybody is going to understand the predicament of your lesbian lover turning out to be a Titan....? they are definitely friends.
in her emotional whirlwinds immediately following The Crystal, reader goes from being friends with Reiner and Bertholdt, to being extremely bitter and distrustful of them. back when they were in the training corp she was ABSOLUTELY aware that ABR were a trio with lots of history together, and knows Annie was close to both of them in a way she wasn't with anyone else. she picked up on the 'team' vibes they gave off, dysfunctional as it was, and she starts to resent them for not helping Annie and leaving her behind. she gets this idea into her head that the only way she can protect Annie is by ratting them out. she definitely tells anyone who will listen that she suspects them of being traitors/titans/whatever the fuckin theory is at that point in the storyline.
but ofc she's just as caught off-guard as everyone else is by the sudden reveal and the transformation on the walls. and anyway she's still cuffed throughout all of this so she really can't do anything besides being emotional support for the people who need it.
whenever everybody else goes to get eren back for that big battle, reader is not allowed to go. she goes to the village to confirm the titans = people theory. the only significant thing that would've happened on the battlefield significant to reader would be that her opinion on Armin goes sour after she learns about what he said in order to get an emotional reaction from Bert. tbh that opinion remains low up until TRNT timeline, bc reader feels that he uses Annie as a tool to get what he wants (which he does, multiple times, just saying). she's not a dick about it but she doesn't get over it until years have passed.
she visits the crystal every 2 or 3 months, basically giving Annie updates on her life and cleaning up the area. lmao i once had an idea that never got written that's literally just reader talking about her day while sweeping up cobwebs and dust from the floor, wiping down the crystal if it's dirty, etc.
i don't think she would join Levi squad - i see her being absorbed into Hanji squad by default after the tagging-along-in-handcuffs turns into genuine trust/reliability. reader is motivated to find out the answers to the million questions she was left with concerning Annie so she commits herself to that in the only way she can, which is being a good soldier.
emotionally she's very empty, and i see her becoming a lot closer with Historia from here on out. they cry about being abandoned together. i love the idea of them still being friends and hanging out even after Historia becomes the queen. i want to include Hisu in TRNT so bad but I'm struggling to come up with a good way to bring her into the story that feels organic.
after the battle to retake the wall + basement reveal, she learns of the Warrior Unit and how young Annie must've been forced to do awful things. i have a vague plan for writing a fic about this one-sided conversation - i'd probably make it a direct parallel to the crystal scene in Please Be part 3 with a similar continuous train of thought-style storytelling and speculation about what she must've gone through. just like, really sad stuff. genuinely heartbreaking shit.
as much as I hate that Moblit died and it agonizes me to think about, i like the idea of Reader stepping up to perform those same jobs once he's gone. the two of them get a lot closer over the timeskip too (i'm allowed to do this because hanji isn't around for TRNT and i need in my soul to include them in this story as much as possible). reader becomes less combat-oriented and more into of a research position and just helping carry out day-to-day Commander duties. essentially a desk job, almost like a secretary?
ideally i would like reader to be minimally involved in murdering innocent people, if possible. during the attack on Liberio i see her being the airship with Hanji and Onyankopon.
i haven't thought much about what would happen for her after that point, though. i have ideas for Annie interactions but not really for where reader sits in canon for that final stretch
if one of you bitches (affectionate) wants come talk to me about any of this in the DMs i am so open to that, because i had so much fun writing this post out! heheh
if you have any more questions about Annie's reader and her extremely depressing life pleeeeeaaaase, i would love to answer it! and i'll love you forever if you give me an outlet for this creativity-fueled infodump
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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hi! same anon. thanks so much for answering all of my questions! i hope it’s ok that i have some more?
when reader and papa first met at the battle of heaven and earth, what was she like? i know even in trnt she still has some negative feelings towards papa for what he made annie go through, so what was she like towards him before she actually got to know him?
are any of the other animals besides cinnamon and the cats named? I like to imagine reader and annie naming each and every one of the chickens and then forgetting who’s who
what was reader like when hange died?
im so sorry for all of these questions i know you said its fine but i just kind of feel like im bombarding you 😓
have a good night!
of course i don't mind! though the first two questions don't have very interesting answers. i genuinely have a lot of fun answering these and i like it when people are curious!!! continue to send asks forever if you want to. i will never get tired of talking about TRNT.
i've gotten this question before, i think? they really don't interact that much! Annie does introduce them to one another in the aftermath of the battle but he's never met any of the Paradis kids, so nobody particularly stands out. on Reader's part, she's definitely not thrilled to meet him. and she doesn't particularly like him going in but she knows that he's important to Annie, and that being with Annie means being okay with her dad. so she swallows her feelings in favor of just politely nodding and smiling, shaking his hand, and introducing herself. Papa hasn't seen his daughter in years so he's more focused on catching up with her rather than grilling her about who she's dating. i don't think the idea of her dating someone even crosses his mind until it happens. that's his baby, yknow? the image he has of her in his head is from when she was a child. even if they were hugging in front of him i don't think Papa would immediately connect that to her being romantically involved with anyone. plus, after that big battle everybody had a lot of other things on their mind.
i don't think he's that observant so he doesn't even really notice anything after reader and Annie move in together. have you read off the beaten path? particularly this one and this one since they deal with the early dynamic.
yeah, the other animals have names! i don't list them in the story because there would be too many names to keep track of. i don't think i've ever sat down and come up with names for them and i doubt i will but they obviously exist in canon. any suggestions from the people? lmao
Papa would only know the cows' names since that's what he deals with, but reader + Annie know them all. they have all their little markings or feather/coat patterns memorized, as well as their mannerisms. you might be surprised how distinctive of personalities farm animals can have! after a month or two of seeing them every day they become part of the family.
as for hanji's death: initially, i mean, basically the same reaction as everyone else? she'd be devastated and crying and shit, but i don't think she would spiral too incredibly badly. more than anything i think reader's biggest takeaway would be that all this fighting just keeps killing people she cares about. she realizes that death is the only thing coming for the people who are involved in war.
honestly it didn't hit me until now but... hanji's death might be what pushed reader over the edge into being so eager to detach herself from Paradis. there are very, very few people left for her. she's got no family left alive and like everyone, she's watched people she's known for years slowly being picked off one by one. hanji dying just pushes her to the point of not wanting to be involved in anything having to do with war - or peace/diplomacy for that matter.
that's definitely part of why she doesn't go back to Paradis. she doesn't want to see places that she associates with people who are now dead. and it also doesn't help that things would be awkward with Historia. what happens from the raid on Liberio all the way to the finale changes reader's mind about "going home," and i think she's so caught up in the fairytale feelings of having Annie back that she doesn't even realize she left Hisu behind until it's too late. and with a newborn baby, too. it's not reader's best moment but hey! girl has got issues.
this will come back in TRNT at some point actually, but shsh sh ssshh spoilers ....
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tsukidrama · 2 years
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hi tsuki can i just say how much i love your interpretation of annie? seriously my fav that ive read. ur a gift to annie stans after that ending
omg this is so sweet 😳 aaauuughh thank you so much for this ❤❤ sshhhhhh don't worry about that, i'm fixing it for her ...
i exist only as a vessel to give annie the development and emotional depth that she deserves as a character. reject the bullshit of canon! join me in my silly little gay la la land.
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