Rewritten

Eren Jeager and Levi fanfiction

Summary: Ever since Eren Jaeger was a child, he had been receiving unexpected dreams of a giant human eating inhuman creature of all kinds. As he grew older, he posted blog stories of his recent dreams. However, one day, he had been on hiatus due to the fact he wasn't able to figure out who was the one man who saved his life in that illusionary mind. Up to then, he started searching for his role-model of a character he never seemed to identify. When that day came, he noticed a certain someone who fitted the role perfectly. He just had to have him.

Meet Eren Jaeger

IT was hot.

That was the first thing that came into Eren's fuzzy mind for a mere split second before it disappeared. Whatever made him extremely hot, was burning his tanned skin to rotten hell, cooking his raw flesh alive. And if anyone actually thought that it felt good in the very beginning, well they were completely and absolutely wrong to no end, where meets abyss of nothingness. This burn wasn't something affectionate nor pleasurable, no. It was as if he was entirely surrounded by raging fire flaring furiously like it kept growing and growing, caused by an explosive reaction by and touched with a lit match. The feeling of his hydrated skin peeling off to a crisp and ash—which could be blown away by the wind—made him shudder uncomfortably. It was painful and it throbbed every single part of his body continuously that he couldn't think of anything to stop it when it came out of no where. Oh, how it hurt.

He kept sweating since he first woke up to his conscious. He wasn't at fault for it to happen too. Not only his pain came out of no where, but the running sweat as well. He felt his face coated with his own disgusting body moist resulting into having his brunette hair plastered all around his forehead in a messy ruffle. It steamed as it evaporated as soon as another coat of his body's perspire extract his skin by the insanely crazed heat. It was sickening honestly. How did it come to this, he wondered.

Later, he then wondered how he actually ended up in here in the first place, an unknown location he never recalled to be in, but it somewhat felt familiar to him, yet unsatisfying to long in such a place. He didn't have a clue as to where he was being situated at the moment. He couldn't remember at all; how this happened. He remembered that the last time, he was at... Oh, dear him, he couldn't even remember where he had last been as well. Wherever he was, he wasn't able to move a single muscle of his weakened body due to the fact he was attached to burning flesh itself. His face, his arms, his legs, his torso—everywhere. He couldn't tell if the flesh belonged to him or if it was something else that had him wrapped around in this odd situation.

That aside, he wasn't afraid of course, but he was extremely confused about everything that was going on. What could he do if there was nothing to do at this moment. His mind was blank as white, blank as emptiness, even if he tried thinking of something—anything, it wouldn't bother crossing in. His memories had been erased for a short period of time, temporarily, well that was what he figured. He was in deep trouble.

His eyes blurred in a blinding haze, whitening his sight that he couldn't focus on escaping this sucked up place. He shut them tightly to regain strength and mental ability. He needed to do at least something-something to bring up his spirit into motivation, get his brain working. However, it didn't happen because he did feel somewhat sleepy for some time now. Yes, he felt tired. Very tired. He thought that maybe he should take a little nap and rest for the time being for at least a few minutes. His muscles he didn't know were tense, had relaxed itself as he let his well being escape his body.

Before he had the chance to leave his mind to tranquil by his heavy lids dragging him to possible eternal sleep, a loud sloshing sound interrupted right next to his ear. He cracked opened his tired eyes slowly and looked over lazily to the corners of his viewpoint. A shiny, bloody, silver and rectangular sword ripping through the pile muscled of flesh that kept him still. The cut tugging the meat had been forced away from his skin, in the process of seeing the exit he wished earlier to go to. Who was bothering him, he begrudged mentally. All he wanted to do was be left at peace and leave the world of reality for a short while. So he groaned and shut back his eyes.

Before he knew it, he was roughly pulled out of the heating strong muscles that planted and attached itself on his body. A new breeze of air tickled his fiery skin. It was cold. He was cold now, like a cold water pooling around his fevered body. He missed that hell hole place he had just been in just earlier. It felt good.

Although, as much as wanted to protest whoever—whatever had him out of it, he was too weak to voice out his feelings, too weak to even move a finger in his state. Somehow, as his upper body was freed, his body felt incredibly heavy that he wasn't able to hold it up physically; he was about to fall back until something hard hit his back, along with a wrap around him for support. What was holding him? He didn't know, so his green eyes shifted downwards to see, until the sight sunk into his now renew fresh mind, consciously. Ah, arms. He was being held by strong arms. He believed this felt better than when he was attached by tight strings of flesh that pulled his skin like a blood-sucking leech. These arms were gentler, and delicate. He wished to remain like this longer. He closed his eyes, slumping over to the unidentified person.

'Eren.'

His eyes opened back again as he was being called by a deep husky velvet voice. He luckily had enough will to turn his head slightly as much as he could. The back of his head rested on a shoulder. A familiar broad shoulder. He looked up to see the face of the man he admired deeply since he was a child. His chapped lips parted but words wouldn't come out like he hoped. His throat was dry and it tickled him. Oh, how he wanted to respond to the man he respected all his life. He wanted to reassure him that he was alright. Right here. In his comforting arms.

He watched as the older man's lips stretched a bit, giving a small smile only for him to see. Oh, was he ever so beautiful. Such a gentle smile, a smile made only for him. So handsome—so perfect. He instantly melted like a marshmallow microwaved on a plate after about thirty seconds.

Eren cracked back a weak smile in response instead of speaking out his lost voice. This man had always told him that action spoke louder than words, and that was true. Well, only to him that was.

Staring at the elder's face, he just loved every single curving feature of the man who sent him mental care. However, the thing was, now that it was mentioned, he knew that the elder was utterly beautiful but he wasn't so conscious to see his face properly. It was shadowed by the sun shining bright rays directly behind him. Who knew why. Who knew why he knew that the raven was just so gorgeous despite the fact he couldn't see the detailed features. It was a mystery. He also knew his name, it was right on the tip of his tongue. Usually it would be spoken out naturally when his mouth opened. But when he said it lowly after his voice returned miraculously. It was unusual that he couldn't hear himself saying it though—that simple name he loved so much. What was going on? Nobody knew. But the man heard it, he knew.

Suddenly, he was given a gentle stroke across his sweating cheek by his beloved and a kiss a top his wet hair. He also knew that this man detested getting himself dirty by anything or everything, and yet, here he was, supporting a dirty man like Eren himself.

He was loved, that much Jaeger knew. And It was an amazing feeling.

'Corporal...—'

EREN jolted in a sitting position in a flash on his single sized bed, his covers thrown forward from his chest pooling around his waist by the rough push of his body thrust up of his wake. Dry heavy pants stuffed the room out of raging disturbance, devouring his innocent mind as several beads of sweat formed from the line of his hair rolling down his light caramel colour adoring face, reaching his chin and dropped away on his sheet.

Facing up the darkness surrounding his being, he felt his pulse throb viciously in terrify, his blood turning cold, paling him as it froze into place. He became slightly frightened out of no occasional reason, but terrified of the thought of a large inhuman creature of his dreams would possibly be lurking in the black pitch. That made his dark green eyes widen slowly with a hint of fear before getting his hand out, shuffling to find the switch of his bed side table lamp hurriedly, while panic ran through his chest. At the touch of a sharp triangular button, he quickly pressed it, ignorant to the fact that his free trembling hand clutched tightly the covers when it turned white.

When the bulb of the lamp lightened, its yellow ray shined in his bedroom, giving out a golden hue colour to every furniture he owned, meeting the light. Then his eyes softened when he looked around the clearing as nothing had been hidden within the dark while catching his breath and his beating heart. He calmed down a bit. He was safe.

He then looked down at his hands observing every single detail of them. Staring at the cracks that folded his fingers when he closed his hands. A thought triggered his mind all of a sudden. He didn't feel as hot as he thought he was, compared to his dream he had just now. He had forgotten that he was already out of there, but it felt as if although he was still there. Only because the feeling of burning warmth still tingled his skin. He felt quite uneasy by that, he balled fists onto his lap, grinding his teeth together numbing his jaw before he licked his cracked lips.

Again? He asked himself. Gradually becoming worried with his daily dreams of that same event playing over and over; it was fearsome, wonderful, yet slightly annoying on how much it had repeated itself no less. The constant reminder of a certain man in a free-flying green cape with a print of blue and white wings, different colour of each, saving his life out of a fleshed body, his deep soft voice calling out to him in patience and care, haunted him to no end for the passed two long months. Day after day, night after night, week after week, and month after another, he just couldn't sleep as he used to anymore, waiting excitedly for another new dream to read him another story-one that continued the previous one. But that couldn't possibly happen, not when he didn't know the man's face nor name. It became even more difficult to cope with.

And he was Eren Jaeger for goodness sakes, a newly eighteen-year-old, attending college. How could he still be such a baby over dreams he never could control after building so much courage of standing up for himself since he was younger in order for his half sister to stop getting so overprotective. Well, that always was in her nature to do so. No one could blamer her. He was loved dearly.

His adoring fresh grass green eyes, glanced at the virtual clock that flashed red numbers by his lamp—5:47AM, then he stared back into space. He could get back to sleep for a little longer, although, his alarm would ring in about fifteen minutes no less. At first, he didn't have a clue on what to do at the moment, he was far too caught up by the man in a green cape invading his mind. Now he questioned to no one in particular; How am I going to continue writing stories if the same dream keeps playing every single time? Letting a sigh escape past his lips, he let it slide for now. He wasn't in the mood to solve this case anytime soon, unless a hint finally showed up.

Tossing the sheets aside, he swung his legs off the bed to the edge and started tugging up his white tank, revealing his nudity to the public view of his own soft lit room and left him in nothing but his boxers before dropping it on the floor as he stood up. Making his way directly to the bathroom to get himself wash up, he went to get ready for college before making his bed.

Eren Jaeger was quite a naturally tall brunette man for his age, somewhat about five feet seven or so. Due to his baby face, he was often mistaken as fifteen for quite some time now. Not that it actually bothered him really but it did irritate him that everyone distrusted and doubted him for telling the truth especially when it came to part-time jobs. What was the point of lying about his real age anyways? He didn't know. He was never the one to lie since he had always been a terrible liar to begin with. He may be well at hiding things, but that was far different than making an excuse when he could avoid suspicious with honesty that didn't point directly to the truth.

The young adult, as was mentioned before, had a half sister. A sister about two years older than he was. And her name was Mikasa Ackerman, now a woman of twenty. She had been there throughout his entire life since he was born. Sure, he was attached to her as a child but growing up, he didn't want his sister to keep protecting him every time he was in trouble, and baby him every time to the point where he'd figure out that he'd turn into a spoiled brat. As for the protection part, he wanted to take bullies into his own hands and fix it. He wanted to show her that he wasn't a child anymore and that he was a grown boy. And proving her that he was years younger didn't mean that he still needed to be called a kid. Although honestly, he secretly liked being pampered—just a bit—a tiny little incy-wincy-bit.

Moving on, Eren never denied that his older sister was beautiful. Their parents had once told them their past story as to why they were half siblings instead of full fledged real ones. And what was it they revealed? It was that because Mikasa and he shared two different fathers, yet shared the same mother. That explained her beauty, Jeager thought, she must had inherited it from her biological father. To be honest, the two youngsters didn't really care about the troublesome situation of being halves much to their parents' relief, as long as everyone was happy. They were contented with what they had. They were blessed just enough for it.

Eren and Mikasa also had a childhood friend; a blond, about a year younger, a seventeen-year-old boy named Armin Arlert. And in Eren's emerald eyes, he had always seen the shy boy as a pure, white, innocent angel descended from Heaven, to becoming his first friend in kindergarten. Oh, how was he very fond of the youngest, like a little brother of his own. Not only that, Mikasa was very overprotective of Eren, but Eren was just the same for Armin. He could also imagine that Arlert was like a lost puppy searching for his mother, or a duckling searching for his mother duck every time he was confused.

How they met? Well, it actually all started with how Eren was openly forward that time, blurting ever so loudly for everyone to hear; 'Oh, an angel! Look Mikasa, it's an angel, an angel! Hey, you. Yeah. Be my friend and I will give you my cookies. Okay? Okay!' And that was when the brunette spotted the blond at the entrance gate of the school. What did anyone expect from a kindergartener? Wasn't such a thing practically normal for kids? Of course, little Armin felt a little embarrassed by the compliment and by how the brunette had such a big mouth with confidence by the way it looked when pink blush tainted his cheeks. It was an adorable sight. A very adorable sight indeed. Mikasa thought it was a miracle for someone like him to easily get along with the idiot brother of hers.

As soon as Eren fixed up his attirement with a plain faded colour orange shirt and jeans, he jogged downstairs to the kitchen only to be greeted by his sister. And boy was she an early-bird.

"Eren, you're up early. That's not like you though. Did a titan from your dreams finally eat you alive that it woke you up? I wouldn't be so surprised if my character saved your sorry ass again in order for you to keep your promise to fight the war for humanity."

Eren stuck out his tongue, grimacing nonchalantly at Mikasa as she cooked some scrambled or probably sunny-side up eggs for breakfast as he ruffled his hair. Asking if she had toasted any sliced bread in the toaster before he came in, he received a head shake from the raven. With a shrug on the shoulders, he made some toast for them both. Waiting for the bread to pop up within a few several minutes, he finally replied back after a short while with a roll of his eyes at her joke and a scoff;

"For your information, Mikasa, I wasn't eaten by a titan. I was actually the one controlling a titan of my own with my own bloody flesh. If you have forgotten your part of the story, you found me out a little after when you thought I was already dead the first time. Thank you very much."

"Ah, I see. So you're still alive, huh. Well at least I don't need to get revenge after whoever will eat you between their teeth, on their tongue misted with smelly breaths and down its throat. It'll be a very troublesome job indeed."

Eren frowned deeply. He gave a look that told her; seriously? Placing a hand over his beating heart, he purposely dropped his jaw with a mock expression of being hurt by his sister's half-hearted comment. He played;

"What? You, my own half-blooded sister, wouldn't bother saving your only, oh-so-loving-beloved brother, from getting eaten by a human eating monster? Hurtful. I'm incredibly heart-broken. No toast for you, my evil-demon of a sister!" he laughed in amusement which he received back full-heartedly.

"I believe it's monster eating human, Eren."

"Well it made no sense either way. Whoever made up the phrase's got no straight mind to make a sentence."

As soon as the topic was already dropped and quickly over by the second, silence fell on them, filling the whole kitchen with nothing except for the bubbling crackles of the eggs and oils of the pan. Of course, Mikasa didn't have anything in mind to say other than her concern for her brother's education, but she also knew that he would just repeat the same boring thing in an uncaring way as all the other days; 'Yeah, s'all good. Don't worry about my grades... mom.' So, she just kept silent to herself. Even if she bothered asking, she already knew the answer anyway.

The reason as to how she understood the brunette's mumbo-jumbo of Titantivity, was only because he had told her everything there was about it. Like how he had been having those dreams of inhuman creatures eating up people like them. He had dreamt all that since they were just kids.

It all started when little Eren Jaeger reached the age of three years old. He had been drawing several of inhuman monsters of all different variety of height, with possibly covered in colour red, which might of been considered as blood in many flocks of papers and as to all which he described the details of his monsters quite perfectly. Now all those had been kept away in the closet of the basement their father owned. Needless to say, the boy's art rose the five-year-old Mikasa Ackerman into slight suspicion with the wild imagination of that head of his. However, despite the suspicion, she was proud of her little brother for dreaming big like a child should be. She patted his head fondly.

Although, ten years later, when Eren turned thirteen in his first freshman year at Rosa Middle school, her suspicion grew slowly even more. She never noticed anything at the beginning, but she did start to realize that lately, he had been furiously writing on endless sheets of paper—of any paper and any crayon he could find around in his room, literally anything he could really use—about some story he had been working on every single morning right when he had woken up. It was also the same in school as well, as to what Armin had told her what happened during classes.

In order to find out whatever story the tanned teenager had kept to himself was actually about, she had to sneak into his room one night—after two in the morning to read a few random found pages on his desk. As a result of the progress, it all happened to be related to the inhuman drawings of eight years ago. After flipping through a couple more ripped, full, crumbled and other torn book pages, she learned what those monsters in the boy's head were actually called: Titans.

At his age of fifteen, she had planned to confront her brother about what was really going on around him along with the crazy mass of paper pile scattered, pinned and thrown in his room. But before she had the chance to ask, it was sort of vice versa, he suddenly came up to her asking to be his role-model for some character she practically had no clue about. Yes, Mikasa was utterly confused to the gutter by all this, but agreed to it no less. At least she was going to get some answers, she thought. And, oh, the answers she got.

In the end, Jaeger told Ackerman about the Titan life he lived in the dreams he'd been having for as long as he could remember. He said that it was like a movie playing in his head every night, except this was something much more realistic yet unrealistic simultaneously. He felt it when he would wake up. And he never really shook away the feeling due to the adrenaline running in his veins of excitement. It dawned him. And then, he explained how much his bizarre dreams had inspired him to make it into a story he would post in a blog he had created a few weeks ago. He needed her and Armin's help to be his role-models, along with many of his other friends from school she was never aware of.

It was all too surprising to her. She never expected something like this to make her brother have a goal of his own out of the blue. He was growing up so fast along with his new experiences without her help at all. The life Eren was happily living in, in that moment, brought a smile to her worrying face. As long as he was happy, so was she.

That was how she knew what he had been spluttering non-sense about. He had been giving everyone—whoever was involved—a heads up of every update of the story he had been working on; Attack on Titan.

"I dreamt of him again..." Eren spoke softly, voice low compared to a whisper as it interrupted the silence. Mikasa looked up at him from the eggs popping in the oil of the frying pan. She turned down the heat to a minimum and leaned against the railing of the oven with her arms crossed over her chest. Really, Eren never told her any specific details of the man in the green cape every time he had dreamt of him because he somehow had the feeling that his sister wouldn't be so very fond of him, especially when his dreams mentioned her character's hate for the one he admired most. Having to know about all the characters' different animas really had him understand more his role-models' attitude and life—or was that the other way around? Well, whichever he would meet first.

"'Again'?" Mikasa shifted her weight to her other leg, leaning off the stove after turning it off. She gave away the longest sigh he had ever heard. Was she tired of listening about his illusionaries? "How long exactly have you been dreaming of mystery Corporal guy—"

53 nights... But it wasn't like Eren was counting anyways.

"—and yet you're not making any progress with that 'Attack on Titan' story anytime soon. You already know that if this keeps up any longer, you'll never be able to finish anything, Eren. Do you know how much this can discourage you in writing? Discourage is the reason for giving up."

Sitting on the dining table waiting for the food to be served, Eren dropped his head in slight shame that the story still in hiatus for far too long while pressing the bone between his thick brows against his laced fingers. His inspirations are lowering him down night after night. He was starting to lose patience. If only everything was easy since not even he can control his visions like the way he wanted. It seemed like it was if that was controlling his life. It made him realize that writing was harder than ever to be expected, much more harder than remembering every single, tiny itsy-bitsy detail of dreams he dreamt of every night.

He sighed heavily. Life was being rough on him. Was it wrong to write inspirations, was it even illegal? Making his dream influence the activity he loved most—writing? He didn't think so. It wasn't fair at all. His frown turned into a pout.

As he was lost in thought, he never noticed Mikasa staring right at him from a distance;

"Why not just search for that role-model. The one right for him?"

...

For a second there, Eren pulled his head away from his intertwined fingers as he let the suggestion sunk in slowly. That alone gave him a reflex of reaction to shoot himself back up on his feet from the wooden chair which fell back with a loud CLANK. He flinched at the sudden movement and the loud snap but ignored it all within a second. All his system stopped short just for a single thought.

Why...why haven't I thought of that before! He scowled at himself and chewed his upper lip out of a habit he picked up out of getting frustrated of anything. Now, he was completely and utterly not happy. Two months. It's been two months. Two months that he had been sulking for nothing! He could have just searched for his real life Corporal for his role-model for the past months. But no, it never bothered crossing his little damn mind!

He growled loudly within his throat, he pulled at his brown locks hard and he stomped the floor madly. He was going insane! He couldn't wait anymore. His blood was rushing through his veins and to his brain from both frustration and excitement. He wanted to find him. His Corporal!

Without using the mind of his own, his body moved subconsciously. His feet dragging him away to the closet to grab a thin green colour sweater to wear. Sliding his arms through the sleeves in a swift quick motion, he guessed that if he left now, he would have more time to find the Corporal's role-model sooner. After all, it was only 6:22AM. It was better to start now than never.

He hurried away, stumbling over to put on his sneakers and shrugging on his sweater again properly to get himself a little more comfortable. However, right before he could even take a step forward to the exit, Mikasa called out to him from behind in the hallway;

"What about school? Don't tell me you have already forgotten about it. Had the thought of finding 'Mister Awesome', let school slip out of your mind or something?"

Right then and there, Eren froze on the spot. All movements were stopped along in place, even the track of his mind. His fresh green eyes widening in realization. School. How could he have let that one slide? He then blinked a couple of times while calming his running mind and system that were in excitement then took a deep breath and let it all out slumping down his tensed shoulders. Now that he was relaxed, he could finally think.

To be honest, today was the first day of Military Organization College, and Eren couldn't afford to miss his class of creative writing's course, the only course he had chosen since applying to Sina High School for College. During his years back in Sina, he had always wanted to take the specific course in order to improve his writing skills for 'Attack on Titan'. And luckily, he was accepted at the Scouting Legion program. But he wouldn't be able to do his work if he skipped. He couldn't start now.

Another heavy sigh passed through his lips from his lungs. Guess the Corporal can wait... he thought to himself and turned on his heels to the kitchen, passing by his sister while dragging his weakened legs lazily in depression and disappointment. Doesn't look like I'll be able to meet him.

Back in the kitchen, he laid his upper body on the dining table, his arms thrown over with a few muffled of low grumpy moans as his sister also followed by behind him. Dropping and smacking his forehead against the surface of the wood with a THUMP. Luckily, his head was hard enough to be kept intact than break apart for him to get into a coma. Haha. Hard. Haha, he was thinking wrong just there. How hilarious. Yeah, it's not funny anymore. He pouted. Again, he was not happy. His happy meter must have decreased to around probably twenty-five percent. Amazing.

"You know, if you're really that desperate, I don't mind calling in sick for you so you can find your... beloved Corporal." Mikasa spoke leaning against the door frame spilling the words Beloved and Corporal bitterly as they rolled out of her tongue.

He shook his head weakly, sadly refusing the opportunity that would only come once in a blue moon. "Wish I could, Mikasa. But you know I have to go to college for my writing."

"I don't get why you need to, when your writing is completely fine. The level of vocabulary and English is high enough already."

"Well yeah, but there are still many things I don't know about yet. Good advice from whoever my teacher will be, would probably be a good thing for me. Maybe I can ask him to read 'Attack on Titan' on my blog. I always do love someone's opinion on it."

The raven chuckled to the brunette. "You give too much credit to everyone."

Eren turned his head to face his half-blood from the table, with the widest grin he could form on his lips, "Hey, I had to. Without them, I wouldn't have gone this far."

"True. Very true. Sharing is caring," a pause. "Well, to you that is."

Eren laughed.

"I'm leaving!"

SLAMMING the door shut behind him, he jogged away from the duplex building with a warm toasted bread stuffed in his mouth. He took his time chewing and swallowing the subsistence in any case he would choke and die half way getting to Military Org. College. 'Never eat and run', his mother used to tell him. However, he never got to hear it this year, not when his mother passed away at the age of ten. He wouldn't hear it from his father either, the loss had a great impact on him that he was completely consumed into his work and went abroad while sending his children money for school sessions and other important needs. Luckily, both Mikasa and Eren stood tall and moved on knowing that their parents were supporting them from a distance.

After the city's clock tower struck 8:30AM, Eren hurried himself up to get to the underground train before it would leave. And he was still far from reaching the subway. But time was enough. School wouldn't start for another thirty minutes after all.

As he slowed down his pace in jogging, he decided to go on with his little hunting session for his role-model on the way there. Between left, right, front and back, none of the citizens had satisfied him yet. They weren't what he was expecting at all. Just the opposite of what he wanted. But he didn't give up.

He flicked his green eyes to a man sitting down on the park's bench, watching him read a newspaper which Eren possibly believed was yesterday's news. He shook his head though; the man was too chubby for his liking. Turning his head to his right, he noticed a couple giggling right in front of a pastry shop. As they stepped out of there, the two were getting all lovey-dovey this morning, weren't they. He rolled his eyes; how cute, he wasn't looking for young flirting lovers. Turning his head around the back, he watched a lazy-like guy yawning and rubbing his head. His clothes were pretty much terrible looking—he wasn't so organized first thing to waking up from the bed. In Eren's opinion, he sure wasn't the one; the guy was too tall and messy to be the Corporal he actually wanted. He sighed. He was looking for someone a little shorter than he was. Even shorter than himself.

For his Corporal, he needed the perfect role-model. Everything his eyes met up with believed that everyone didn't do to fit in the superior's characteristics like he hoped. They were all either too happy, too stupid, too big, too small, too... not of a clean-freak.

Eren knew what kind of person he needed to put 'Attack on Titan' in progress. Sure, he had plenty and countless of role-models for his story in real-life, but they were necessary. He was content when his friends had agreed to be in it. It was a major help on his side. They were even satisfied with his lines of writing. As they said; the story-line had an exciting suspense kind of genre. They liked it. He grinned to himself. At least they weren't offended with any tragic event happening with their characters.

The first person he came up to when he planned to make his dream into literature and publish it in a blog was Mikasa Ackerman. He was pretty much like a jumping excited dog when she didn't mind helping him with being one of his role-model. As much as she was his half-blooded related sister, his own character in his dream also had a sister—an adoptive sister, though. Since the adoptive sister didn't have a face shown or a name revealed in his dreams, he was able to use Mikasa to place the pieces together. And guess what? Those two matched perfectly. Although, he never did understand why.

In 'Attack on Titan', the story went on how he and 'Mikasa' became adoptive siblings. Apparently, he dreamt that 'Mikasa' lived a happy life with her mother and father in a cabin hidden within the thin yet thick forest inside of one of the three great Walls; Maria. Unfortunately, they were killed by merchandise men who sold valuables, such as an Asian like herself, to the nobility superiors in Wall Sina for high priced money. In the end, she was saved and became his sister after that.

'Mikasa' happened to be quite skillful when they trained to be a soldier for humanity. She gained much respect along the way. 'Eren'—the character of his own in his dream, on the other hand, was a little jealous by her strength but he made up for it with his determination. However, between real-life and illusion, both Mikasa's never ceased to baby him.

The second person he came up to for the progress of the story was Armin Arlert. Truth be told, he never hesitated to make a decision for anyone, but he did hesitate for the results. Even Armin matched the childhood friend of 'Eren''s in his dreaming wake. How they met in the imaginary world was pretty much simple. They met before 'Mikasa' entered their lives. 'Armin' was constantly bullied by bigger kids their age just because he dreamt to once see the outside world—where Titans have all been exterminated—from the great Walls. Of course, 'Eren' was there to save the little blond.

'Armin' happened to be highly intelligent with academics above anyone in the whole 104th Trainee Squad. He was definitely a shy boy, that was for sure, but he as well had plenty of determination written all over his blue eyes if he tried. However, the kid had always doubted himself because he didn't have the confidence even when making decisions that placed both lives of 'Eren' and 'Mikasa' in his two hands. Then, he soon realized that he wasn't as weak as he thought; it was thanks to everybody who placed their trust in him with their lives to the death. 'Eren' and 'Mikasa' were glad to see 'Armin' slowly gaining confidence. He was getting stronger without their help. Another thing between reality and imagination, both Armin's were the same.

Just as Eren was about to cross the busy street between people, the fire light quickly changed before he had the chance to blink and take a step forward. The sign flicking from a flashing walking stickman to a red hand stop. He missed his cross. He sighed heavily.

Boy, he sighed a lot today, hadn't he.

For the time being, while waiting for the walking sign to switch back on, Eren took the moment to close his eyes and breathe the cool morning fresh air in his nose. Clutching his laptop bag-strap upon his shoulder, he opened up his wide shoulders apart, stretching the top half muscles of his torso by pulling his arms back with his spine arching until a satisfying pop hit him. It felt good.

He tilted his chin up slightly sniffing the city air from the pollution of several vehicles and a hint of scented fresh flourish nature of spring. The breeze brushing though his brown locks between the rooted hairs on his scalp felt nice. And the bright sun soothing his tanned exposed skin felt amazingly warm on his body, much better than where he fell in that bunch of boiling meat of a Titan. But that was all a dream. It was never real to begin with.

Although, he shouldn't be thinking like that when he would get the left over tingly feeling after he would wake up almost every night.

Sighing away for the n'th time this morning, he finally opened his eyes, the rays of the shining sun changing his green orbs into a golden hue as he watched the birds gliding in the blue sea sky under the fluffy-looking white clouds. Wings of freedom, huh. He thought to himself. He squinted a bit by the bright light flashing in his sight.

Suddenly, before his mind could be drifted to the walking sign, he caught a sight of a little something that somehow pulled over his attention in front of him. Tilting his head back down as the crowd moved forward passing through the street, the wind blew hard from behind, which received a few squeaks from people and which he had to shield himself from. Lifting his head up, he stared at a man who was quite shorter than average, standing a couple of feet away through the crowd of people. His neat and trimmed hair with a well undercut, and his well being fit perfectly in a grey business suit—from behind that is, he looked good, despite the fact he couldn't see his face.

Eren stared at the man's back for the longest time possible as his eyes slowly widened. A picture flashed in his mind; a figure of a man faced away from Eren in a green cape with the blue and white wings printed on the back. That figure he was imagining was now standing right next to the stranger in the exact same position. The hair, the height—the everything. They matched. Everything single little damn detail there was fitted perfectly. Sooner or later, the ghostly figure by the stranger disappeared. His illusion of the Corporal faded in a blink.

Eren's mouth hung for who knew how long it had dropped. His lips trembled in either anticipation or nervousness. He just couldn't speak in his state, his voice failed him, but he thought;

He's the one! And he took a deep breath and then another, a step then another as well, before breaking into a run over to the stranger's direction.

He wanted him. He wanted him badly.

Because he was the Corporal's perfect role-model.