Attack on Titan: Survival and Dedication - Male Reader

CHAPTER ONE - PART ONE

A GHOST

Year 849
Unknown territory
200 kilometers Southwest of Shiganshina

A long valley of towering pine and tall grass rustled under a gust of wind. It was cold and the air carried the smell of freshly fallen rain, making the conditions perfect for a hike or camping.
The sun began to peek out over the horizon, illuminating the sky and turning everything it touched a fiery orange. But as the day just started, work never ended.
A loud boom shook the ground, constantly rumbling as one came after the other. They were footsteps and they were close.
A lone Titan standing twelve meters tall scanned his surroundings, snapping at the open air with his wide and wicked grin. He smelt something but it was almost impossible to find.
Walking forward, it bumped into a nearby tree, snapping branches and making its needles rain down to the damp ground. It wasn't concerned with its surroundings, it was on the prowl.
Rearing its head back, it took a good whiff of the air, trying its damndest to find the scent it caught just moments ago.
Suddenly, far down the valley and just to its right, a snap and tumble caught its attention. So working on instinct alone, the abnormal Titan made a mad dash for its prey.
Down below, a mass of green began to move. Just within arm's reach of the Titan's footprint, it moved, inching away from the scene in a prone position with sounds mimicking the grass around it.
A faint outline of arms and legs could be seen within, pushing a man ever so slowly away from the searching Titan.
His heart beat a mile a minute but a focused frown was underneath his green cloak. He took deep breaths with the movement of grass, never making more sound than nature itself.
Slowly he crawled, making it five meters, ten meters, then eventually one-hundred meters until the rumble of each of the Titan's footprints was no longer felt.
He lifted his head to survey the area and access the situation. With a quiet sigh, he shook his head.
Too close. He thought as he removed a strap from his shoulder to pull his backpack close.
The backpack, like the rest of his clothes, was forest green and covered in brown netting stitched with ruffled grass. It covered him head to toe, making him almost invisible.
Undoing a couple of buttons and opening a flap, he pulled his journal free. The little notebook was made with wrinkled leather, a testament to its age and the dozens of pages it was missing.
With a pencil in hand, he got to writing. He finished up his report the Abnormal had just interrupted, stating the number of Titans in the area, their variety, the local fauna, and the abundance of wildlife. To finish up his report, he also added a simple map and helpful sketches or headings describing the Titan and its area.
With the sun touching his journal, he wrapped it up with a piece of leather and worn down pencil before stowing it. He was done and it was time to head back to the nearest base.
  He wasn't familiar with his destination in question. The only thing he knew was that it was occupied by the Survey Corps.
Before he made the long trek back, he was sure to double-check the contents of his bag.
Letters are fine. Seals are intact. Couple packages but they're fine. Still got enough food but running low on water. He nodded to himself and finally stood, revealing his moderate frame.
Being a Scout was hard work, but there wasn't any doubt when it came to his physical health. He walked with a full pack, a loaded rifle, and a sheathed sword made of ultrahard steel. The weapons alone were at least 15 kilograms. With his pack, it could easily go up to 50. It honestly depended on the job and the length of his trip.
Because of this, he had a good bit of muscle on his body. It wasn't anything chiseled or cut but it was enough to be intimidating when paired with 90 kilograms of weight and 182 cm of height.
He wore the signature cloak of the Survey Corp over it, hiding his broad shoulders. However, it lacked its insignia. Instead, it was covered in grass and remained a flat but deep green.
As for the rest of his uniform, it was specially made. An ODM harness was used to carry a variety of pouches. Some had ammunition, powder, and flint. Others had oil, a whetstone, and medical supplies. The things he would grab when in a pinch or just out of convenience.
The uniform itself was also changed. The dress shirt and pants were dyed green and had a looser fit, being one size bigger for overall comfort. The only addition he made was a green cloth covering the lower half of his face.
The main goal was to be as quiet as possible, to turn him into a metaphorical ghost without sacrificing comfort and mobility. It was also adaptable, allowing him to wear thicker clothes for harsher environments or winter weather.
Sometimes he wondered why he was the only one doing all the hard work.
  For being called a Survey Corps and Scouts they do a whole lot of sitting around. He mulled as he walked a large plain of flowing grass.
After an hour of walking and careful observation, he made his way over a small hill, giving him a good view of a long, flowing river.
The water was as fresh as can be. It was also pretty much untouched as it was kilometers from the nearest village and outpost. The Scout had it all to himself.
Pulling a string from around his shoulder, he filled a leather bladder with the cold water before taking a few sips to himself. For now, he sat at the river's side, his eyes being drawn to the moving water or a distant butterfly.
Downing a few slices of bread and a piece of salted pork from his personal stash, the Scout leaned back, using his pack as a sort of wall or rock to rest against.
He undid the straps to his heavy pack and rubbed his shoulders, releasing sighs of content while doing so.
In this plain of grass and water, where his clothes mingled with nature, he shut his eyes for much-needed sleep. After walking all night he felt he deserved it.
When he awoke he noticed the shifted sun and the shadow made by his hood. He couldn't tell exactly but he knew a few hours had passed.
Shouldering his pack once more, he stood and was off. He had a day's walk ahead of him and wasn't about to spend the night in another tree.
He crossed the plain and forest, only stopping for a sip of water or to hit the deck and wait for a few wandering Titans to pass. But after so long, he crossed an invisible line in the land.
The forest was far denser where he stood, hiding anything beyond 20-ish meters behind great trees so old they could predate most towns and villages.
His sharp eyes caught movement in the trees and he could hear voices carried in the wind. It didn't take a genius to know that Scouts were on the lookout.
"Finally..." The lone Scout uttered just above a whisper.
A large estate or plot of land finally came into view. This place was new to his eyes but it wasn't a very pleasing sight. It was made of stone, almost like a castle with windows that just screamed cold and damp.
Whoever owned it must've been pretty wealthy. He thought with a short hum.
A long stable was made just out front, holding the Corp's horses and a few soldiers forced to shovel the excrements.
  Surrounding the estate was a rather tall wall made of stone. It was more for decoration than defense but it didn't stop the Corp from changing that.
  "What the—?!" A soldier - likely assigned to guarding the gate - leaning far back into a chair flinched at the lone Scout's appearance. Apparently, the lookouts weren't keeping their eyes peeled.
  One long look at the Scout's appearance and the sharp (Eye Color) eyes under his hood turned the soldier's scared expression into something of awe.
  The Scout shared a momentary glance with him before continuing on his way to the house. He wasn't much of a talker but the slacker seemed to be.
  "H-hey!" He called out before giving chase, his footfalls heavy and well-spaced. "You're the one that's got mail, right??"
  "No." The Scout almost grumbled, crushing the man's spirits.
  In truth, he did have mail, just not his. No, what he carried was far more valuable than some love letter or page full of words from a worried mother. Their importance was the reason he carried them.
  Stopping out front, he began removing his gear. Little by little he laid out every piece on an empty picnic table until all that was left was the cloak around his shoulder and the grass covering his body.
  Undoing a few buttons, he set aside the olive cloak and leaves, creating a small pile that drifted away in the cold, evening wind.
  He removed his face cover before getting comfy, which was just a long moment to himself where he could simply turn off his brain and relax his tense muscles.
  One would think he was daydreaming or dozing off, but he was still, his eyes only focusing on one point on the wooden table to immerse himself in every grain, ring, and splinter.
  "Oh, Y/N~" A voice sang his name, which in itself was just as rare as anyone saying it. It was enough to divert his gaze for but a moment, long enough to acknowledge a woman throwing herself to his side.
  "Do you have it?? Please tell me you have it." The woman, Hange Zoë, a very weird and unhinged person, asked.
  He'd made deliveries for Hange before. Whatever it is that she was up to it required small and delicate parts, something she couldn't risk on a normal supply run and was far too expensive to replace.
  Y/N merely grabbed a strap to his pack and gave it a small nudge, just enough to give her a hint.
  Hange was quick and snatched the bag away, apparently giddy to take the packages, letters, and his journal away.
  "Thank you~" She sang once more with a wide grin.
  The ditzy researcher must've expected a response as she hung back for a moment with her eyes drilling holes into his skull. However, the most she got out of him was a quick and awkward glance before leaving him to his devices.
  It wasn't just Hange either, the Scout felt eyes on him from all around the estate. He had crawled and walked through some of the most Titan-infested areas around but the idea of someone else coming up like Hange did made him anxious.
  Fortunately for him, they let him be long enough for someone, some Captain, to come and shout them back to work.
  The Captain's name was at the tip of his tongue but he just couldn't remember. He was a big shot in the military, supposedly the best they had. But he was short with onyx hair he parted down the middle, making him look more like bored or grumpy royalty than someone the other members of the Corp feared and respected.
"Captain Levi!" The Scout heard a soldier shout followed by an overzealous salute.
Levi. Y/N was sure to mentally note the name for later.
It wasn't hard to remember names, the problem lay in the fact that Y/N never asked for them or paid very much attention to those around him. It also didn't help that the Captain hardly acknowledged him and vice versa.
"Hey." A gruff and almost crass voice said, gaining Y/N's attention.
  Speak of the devil. Y/N took a wild guess and pushed the remaining package toward him.
  The contents were unknown but the packaging was small and smelled of something sweet. Was it soap? Y/N wasn't sure.
Captain Levi took the package with a scrutinizing gaze fixated on Y/N's current situation. He stunk of sweat and piss, but the latter wasn't his and that made it worse.
Levi fought the urge to scold the younger man and force him to get a fresh pair of clothes and a bath. The only thing stopping him was what he had just accomplished. Considering not many people could do what he did, he let it slide for now.
Before he left, the bored-looking man parted with something surprising. "Oh, yeah. The Commander wanted to see you."
  Commander? Y/N frowned, which seemed like all Levi needed to see for the message to get across.
The Scout let out a tired sigh, masking what bit of sound the Captain made as he walked away. He had hoped for a bit of a break before the next trip, but it wasn't like the Survey Corp was holding out on him when it came to compensating him for his work.