Chapter Notes:
My second attempt to write fanfiction here, and since my werewolf AU is slightly different from the usual ones, you probably want to check this out first: Call My Name Werewolf 101. It would help to understand my story better. Aside from this site, I posted my story on archiveofourown (ID: himawarinee) and wattpad (ID: himawarinee). You can also hit me up ontwitter (ID: himawarinee) and tumblr (ID: himawarinee) regarding this story or just for a plain visit.
****WARNING! PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND BEFORE READING! This story is un-beta. English is not my first language and I am aware of my poorly written story with my mistakes on grammars, along with the incoherent sentences, and I intend to leave it that way. I don't have time, and simply too lazy to get a beta reader and rewrite/repost the edited version. If you are the kind of person who don't get to enjoy the book because of writer's grammar mistakes, maybe this story is not for you. Regardless, maybe you could give this story a chance? But, if this story is still not your cup of tea, no matter how you try reading it, please feel free to leave peacefully, thank you! c:
P.S. Extra chapters contains mpreg, not to worry for those non mpreg readers because the extra chapters can be skipped and won't affect the story if you wish so.
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Beautiful emerald green eyes were staring at the crystal clear river across him. He seemed so calm and content despite the forming bruises all over his tan body -along with his dishevelled look plus the mop of untamed dark chocolate hair- which make his appearance even worse, as if he's been fighting a bunch of people and lose the fight.
Well, that was partially true. Except, he didn't lose the fight, not exactly. He just finished the fighting practice with some of his friend, so all the bruises and dishevelled look made a complete sense.
But why the fighting practice? Even though he had a little muscle in him, he wasn't an athlete, nor was he a fighter. So, what was he doing with the fighting practice in the first place?
The answer; because he was a werewolf.
Have you ever heard of werewolves? Yes, they did exist and they blend in really well with humans nowadays -because in this modern era, it seems like no human being ever believed in werewolves, they thought it was just a mere fantasy- unlike hundreds of years ago where all the werewolves live in fear, afraid of being killed by the werewolf hunters.
They were living in packs where each of them has their own territory, which took place on every district, all over the world. Unless you are rogues a.k.a. the outcasts, because they didn't belong in any pack, or had left the pack for whatever reasons.
So, as to put all the information together, the boy was a werewolf, and his name was Eren Jaeger.
He practiced on his fighting because that was what a member of the werewolf's pack do, to protect their own pack from everything; another packs, rogues, werewolf hunters -which nowadays almost doesn't exist-, or whatever danger that would come to them.
Eren belonged to the Wild Titan Pack since the day he was born. It wasn't the strongest pack, but Wild Titan Pack had the most members among the other pack all over the world; almost three hundred werewolves belonged in that pack since many years ago, generation through generation.
Eren was nothing special, at least that was what he thought, because he was nothing like Mikasa; his raven haired step-sister who was a delta -the third in command on their pack- whom soon to be a beta -the second in command on their pack-, or even Armin; his blonde haired best friend who was a sigma -the tutors of the pack since he knew so much about each thing-.
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Call My Name - Levi/Eren (Werewolf AU) - AoT/SnK
FanfictionEren Jaeger lived his normal-17-year-old-werewolf's life as a member of Wild Titan Pack, before everything changed in just one night when the enemy attacked for trying to take over their land and fortune. With the help of Carla Jaeger; Eren, Mikasa...