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More than a Brother
Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin) or any of the characters from the series. I write this fic for your enjoyment only (and mine too). The cover art is by DA member Reiko Akire This story takes place roughly after Eren's trial (between episodes 14-15) when he is being treated for his injuries by Hanji. It will be slightly AU but still canon enough to have actually happened in the series. Anyway, enjoy and please review!
"Miss Ackerman, you may come in now."
Mikasa looked up from her seat in the waiting room and saw Professor Zoe Hanji, the Survey Corp's chief science officer, standing in the opened doorway to Eren's hospital room where he was still recovering from the hectic events of his recent trial. Upon her superior's approval, she quickly got up and went inside the room; it was to be the first time she saw her foster brother since the trial where it was decided that he was to be handed over to the Survey Corps instead of the Military Police.
The Last Thing You Are
Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin) or any of the characters from the series. I write this fic for your enjoyment only (and mine too) The cover art is drawn by DA member XiaooYu I hope you like it! ^^ I just finished watching this series to the latest episode recently and I loved it. I was inspired to write this upon seeing Mikasa's devotion to Eren and how she stuck by him even when everyone else doubted him. This story takes place roughly after Eren's trial (between episodes 14-15) when he is being treated for his injuries by Hanji. It is the sequel to my other AoT fic 'More then a Brother' and I recommend reading that one first Anyway, on with the show!
"Eren…can you hear me? Its time to wake up now…"
Eren slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying in bed in a dimly-lit hospital room with a brunette woman leaning over him. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties and wore her hair in a topknot as well as a pair of
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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