Good morning! Happy Thursday!

My name is Queen Tzahra, thank you so much for clicking on this story, hello and welcome! Forgive me, this is my first time writing for Attack On Titan and my first time in a long time writing for a fandom this big, so I won't lie, I'm a little intimidated, but very, very happy to be here.

I didn't want to go into too much of a speech about how this fic came to be because it's kind of a long story, but I think some context is important, so here goes!

I've known about Attack On Titan pretty much since it came out. My friends and my brother have been super into it since 2013 and have been trying to put me onto it the whole time, but I didn't listen. I choose to believe it was because I wasn't meant to meet this cast until now, though honestly I was probably just being annoying. So I was always aware of it, and I knew who Erwin and Levi were because I saw lots of naked pictures of them on yaoi boards (you know, as you do) but nothing really happened until last year when I got Covid.

Yeah, that fucking sucked. I was really lucky though: my symptoms were mild, I wasn't sick for very long and I didn't infect anyone close to me. It could have been WAY worse, and I'm grateful every day that it wasn't. However, I was stuck inside for seven days, which was absolutely miserable. Thank god for my cat, otherwise I'd have completely lost my mind.

Anyway, I was angsting about it on my Instagram, and my friend Vega, who I've known and loved since high school, called me to see how I was doing. We'd never really lost touch, though we hadn't spoken properly in a few years, but we ended up on the phone for like, six hours, and it was absolutely beautiful. We talked about all kinds of shit, but the big thing was Attack On Titan. She LOVES Levi, like, that's her fictional other, so by the end of the conversation I was like, "All right well if that's your person I gotta meet him and make sure he's all right."

Yeah I binged the first season in three days and picked up the manga the second I was able to go back outside safely.

It was not what I was expecting AT ALL and I was blown away. I loved the bleak atmosphere, the creativity, the soundtrack, and of course the cast, which brings us to this fic!

During one conversation, Vega and I were talking about the cast and what it would be like if they lived in our respective cities, in my case, New York. Where would they live? What would they do for work? Where would they hang out? Etc etc etc. While we debated about Levi, I was like, "You know I once saw a Youtube documentary about this aguy in California whose job was to clean up death scenes, couldn't you see Levi doing something like that?" Immediately my brain was like, "Bitch that is a good ass prompt!" Vega agreed, so we talked, the ideas simmered, I wrote a few test scenes, then, the day before Eren's birthday, I started the first draft, which I finished a few days before Halloween.

What a crazy few months that was, holy shit.

I'll tell that story in the A/Ns of subsequent chapters, but for now all I'll say is that this story ended up being VERY different from what I originally envisioned, but I'm absolutely thrilled with it. Eren and Levi were fantastic to work with, I can't wait to share our work with you all and of course I hope you enjoy it!

For the vibes: listen to Nap by Darsena or Fighting Gravity by Of Mice & Men.

Okay I've said enough, let's finally get into the fic!

Once again, my name is Queen Tzahra (Captain Tzahra if you're nasty!), this is Light Pollution, thank you all so much for being here!

DISCLAIMER: Attack On Titan/Shingeki No Kyoujin and its wonderful cast belongs to Hajime Isayama, I am making no money from this. It's a labor of love and I regret nothing!

12:36 AM

Eren Jaeger watched the screen fade to black, then stared at his reflection for a few seconds before dropping his phone onto the bed beside him. The time felt like a taunt. If he fell asleep right now, he could still get a decent number of hours in. He doubted that'd happen, though. He hadn't slept at all the night before and his body and mind seemed in no mood to cooperate tonight. Not that he'd expected anything better: sleeping well was apparently an ability he'd lost since graduating high school.

A summer breeze blew outside Eren's window, and the branches of the skimpy tree that grew in front of it shook and rapped on the air conditioner, making the glow of the surrounding street lights dance. Eren rolled over onto his other side and buried his face in his pillows. He found the noise comforting, but the light was sharp on his tired eyes. Born and raised in New York City, you'd think he'd be used to both, but not so, and no one seemed to get it, mostly Eren himself but least of all his parents.

He'd fought with them a lot over it growing up, especially when they'd dragged him upstate every summer. The sun was harsh and bright, the quiet intense and unnerving, and his mind spun out thoughts faster and louder to compensate for both. He remembered one trip in particular, nine or something years ago, the first they'd taken after Mikasa had come to live with them in some show of family togetherness.

Late on the second night, Eren had snuck out to the pier in front of the house they'd rented on the shore of Cayuga Lake. He sat on the weathered edge, staring out over the dark water, when, "Can't sleep?" Eren turned and found Mikasa walking slowly towards him. The pier, which had creaked and groaned under his stomping footsteps, made no sound at all as she approached.

"No," he replied, coldly, turning back to the lake. He hugged his knees into his chest and rested his chin upon them, hoping she'd go back to bed. To his irritation, however, she came to sit beside him, her bare feet hanging over the edge. Eren looked down, the water so black and smooth it reminded him of photos he'd seen of deep space, far beyond his own night sky where only the brightest stars were visible.

Eren sighed and turned so his cheek was against his pillow and stared across his bedroom. Everything looked the same as it always did these long, sleepless nights. The dark shapes of the furniture, the black rectangles of the posters on the walls, the weird shadows on the floor and ceiling. His heart beat a little faster at the almost oppressive familiarity. At least upstate he could stare into something new, something open and sprawling and vast. However, thinking about it now, when he was stuck here, when all those stars he'd been able to see were way beyond the walls and the tall buildings and the street lights, just made his heart beat even faster. How many nights had he spent this way? Seeing the same view, hearing the same sounds, feeling the same feelings and pondering the same, unanswerable questions? How long would, could, this go on, like, seriously?

Very suddenly, Eren felt his ribs tighten around his racing heart, saw the walls of his bedroom close in around him, heard all the surrounding noise get swallowed by a sudden, compressing silence-

He sat bolt upright, shuddering and clutching his chest. His eyes were wide and his breath was ragged, but he fought for each gasping inhale and every sharp exhale, struggling to expand his chest and slow his heart again. It seemed to take an eternity, but he managed it, and as he came back to himself and his body relaxed by maybe half a degree, two things became clear: he wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon and he needed to get the fuck out of this room.

Eren sprang out of bed, snatched the jeans and t-shirt he'd worn that day off the floor and put them on, then pulled his hair into a bun.

"Your hair's longer than Mikasa's, Eren, for goodness sake!" his mother loved to remind him, as if he'd let it grow out to spite her personally.

"It's just hair, who cares?" he'd always snap back.

Eren opened his bedroom door with a soft creak. The old townhouse in which he'd grown up was narrow, shadowy and full of odd noises, all of which were worse at night. The second floor landing stretched ominously ahead of him, one slim shaft of moonlight spilling out from the bathroom on the opposite end. After taking a breath to steady himself, he padded down the carpeted landing, past a hall closet, then Mikasa's room, and was about to escape down the stairs, when,

"Eren?"

He stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs, his hand gripping the banister. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. "Yes?" he asked, on his exhale. Behind him, he heard the creak of Mikasa's door opening wider, the squeak of the floorboards as she stepped out into the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Eren opened his eyes and turned to face her through the darkness. Although he could only see her in shadow, he knew exactly the expression she was wearing, and his heart sped up uncomfortably.

"Out," he replied, coldly. He wanted more than anything to tell her to back off and let him go, but he also didn't want to deal with the fallout. The last time he'd blown her off like that she'd ratted him out to his mother, who'd lectured him endlessly the following day as if he were still a little kid for whom a smack to the back of the head was a real deterrent or consequence.

"Out where?" asked Mikasa. Eren gripped the banister so hard his knuckles whitened and the scars there shone in the moonlight. He had no idea where he wanted to go. He hadn't had any thought or plan other than "get the fuck out of my room." He bit his lip, trying to get his wits about him and come up with an excuse, but the walls were threatening to close in again, led by Mikasa's relentless, cold stare that he couldn't quite see through the darkness.

"For a drive. I can't sleep," he said, eventually.

"A drive where?"

"Armin's," he replied, saying the first thing he could think of. He bit down on his lip again, the sharp sensation helping him fight the urge to just dip.

"I'll go with you," said Mikasa, after a moment. Eren didn't think much of this, but knew it wasn't worth the argument.

"Whatever, just keep quiet," he replied, rolling his eyes.

He descended the stairs as silently as he could, Mikasa following at a distance, and crossed the foyer, which was lighter for the huge windows in the living room and kitchen on either side. Eren put on his shoes and snatched his father's keys off the hook next to the front door, then opened it with yet another soft creak.

The townhouse was on East 65th Street, halfway between 1st and 2nd Avenue. The block was empty, except for a few rats scurrying in the garbage bags piled along the sidewalk. The summer night felt hot, heavy and sticky after so long in the air conditioning, but Eren found the change in sensation helpfully distracting. He sprinted down the front steps towards Grisha's car parked right in front of the house, leaving Mikasa to lock the front door behind them. He yanked open the driver's side door, threw himself into the front seat and started the engine before calling Armin. The dial tone rang and rang while Eren bounced his knee impatiently and Mikasa slid quietly into the passenger's seat, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"Hello?" came Armin's sleepy voice at last, and Eren stopped bouncing his leg at once.

"What are you doing?" he asked, without preamble. A pause.

"Going to bed?"

"Fuck that. Get dressed, I'm gonna be at your house in fifteen minutes." Another pause.

"Eren it's nearly 1 AM, what are you talking about?" Eren took hold of the steering wheel with his free hand, the AC blasting from the vent above it sharp on his scarred knuckles.

"You said you wanted to go to the beach, let's go to the beach." This, like going to Armin's in the first place, had only just occurred to him.

"What the-" Eren could picture Armin's despairing head shake perfectly. He was his oldest friend, after all. Mikasa sighed softly and leaned back in the passenger's seat, staring out of the windshield. Eren closed his eyes, needing Armin to understand and cooperate.

"Come on. Mikasa's with me and the beach is mad nice at night, it'll be cool." As he said it, he realized he actually really liked this idea. He waited, hoping, wanting, needing, and eventually, Armin gave a little sigh. Eren smirked.

"Fine, but I have my work study in the morning," he warned.

"All right, bet." Eren ended the call and connected his phone to the car's bluetooth. He selected his current favorite song, and an electric guitar riff and screaming vocals blared from the speakers. He then buckled his seatbelt and pulled out of the parking space with a screech of tires. Mikasa fell back against the passenger's seat, but said nothing as Eren turned left onto 1st Avenue. Green light after green light glowed ahead of them, so he sped up, swerving easily around double parked trucks and cars driving too slowly. The movement and music and rev of the engine seemed to slow his racing heart, or maybe it just wasn't moving as fast by comparison. Mikasa crossed her arms in front of her chest, but still said nothing. She hated the way he drove, all their friends did, but she was the only person who never told him so.

"Dude, slow down, what the fuck are you in such a rush for?" Connie had asked a few months ago, as they sped out to Flushing.

"No, that's fine, I don't value mine or my girlfriend's life at all," Ymir had drawled on the way home from a show in Greenpoint that winter.

"What's it like to never experience the consequences of your actions?" Jean had asked, shortly after Eren's eighteenth birthday. Eren had wrecked Grisha's car on Friday night, and everyone at school knew by Monday morning, even before he'd shown up with an impressive bruise on the side of his face and a black eye. All day people had been coming at him with sympathy or jokes, and he couldn't decide which pissed him off more. "If it were me, my parents would, I don't know… Make me pay back what I owe them for their insurance going through the goddamn roof or something?" Jean's sharp eyes kept darting to Mikasa, who'd been in the car with Eren but hadn't even gotten a scratch.

"No one was hurt," Eren reminded him, testily, because he could tell he was actually pissed. Jean rolled his eyes and faced Mikasa properly, his expression softening even as he silently demanded the question everyone, including Eren, was desperate to ask:

"And what difference did you being there actually make?"

At 86th Street, Eren turned sharply left and was met with more green lights. He forced the car further and further west, the glow of the store fronts on either side of the empty street an eerie backdrop to homeless encampments and drunk people making their way to the train station. Armin had grown up by here, but had moved across town with his grandfather a year ago. Not that it had stopped them seeing each other. Armin being way too serious about school had done that far more effectively.

Eren put on a burst of speed to get through the yellow light at Park Avenue, but finally had to stop at 5th. The Metropolitan Museum of Art stood out, white and shining, while Central Park loomed behind it, far darker than the night sky above them. A police car was parked by one of the entrances, no doubt waiting to harass people coming in and out. "Fuck," Eren muttered, his heart catching up to him now he'd stopped moving.

"Eren?" Mikasa asked, softly, but the light changed, meaning he could reasonably ignore her as he pulled through the intersection and entered the park. This road was also desolate and eerie, the street lights overhead dappled by trees. He shuddered a little, though it reminded him of the flashing lights at concerts and parties, and he knew a sudden, sharp pang of regret at not looking to see if anything was going on tonight. He liked the energy, the open hostility and aggression, the crazy shit other people did when they were fucked up.

He recalled, suddenly and viscerally, the last party he'd gone to, at some warehouse in Queens and thankfully without Mikasa tailing him. He'd gotten into it with someone in front of the stage, and though he'd landed a solid right hook, his adversary had hit him back so hard in the face he'd nearly passed out. He remembered getting pushed out of the line of fire by other people dancing nearby (this wasn't the type of venue with security who gave a fuck), then staggering backwards into the scratched and graffitied wall. Little lights popped in front of his eyes like fireworks, mixing dizzyingly with those of the venue while he coughed and gasped through a heavy nosebleed.

"You okay?" asked an older woman beside him, dressed in bondage pants and rolling on several drugs by the look of her.

"Huh? Yeah," he replied, thickly, trying and failing to stop the blood with his t-shirt and still reeling from the punch. She just laughed, pressed him up against the wall and kissed him on the lips, tasting his blood as she shoved her tongue into his mouth. Eren's head spun and he wondered again if he'd pass out, but no: the sensation was keeping him in that glorious place right after you get hurt, where your mind tries to protect you from what happened and everything is numb and floating. He tried to hold onto her, but she pulled away, laughing, and disappeared into the crowd. Eren fell back against the wall, breathing hard through his open mouth, and left not long afterwards. That night he slept more soundly than he had in months, but he never got the blood out of his shirt.

"Fuck," Eren muttered, both at the intensity of the memory and at the red light at Central Park West. He snatched up his phone to distract himself, willing his chest to relax and the heat between his legs to dissipate. With another pang of regret, he thought of the people to whom he could have sent a "you up?" text back in his bedroom. That would have been a way better excuse to go out, and Mikasa wouldn't have been able to follow. Whatever, it was too late now, and the beach would hopefully work. He selected a new song as the light changed, then pulled forward with another rev of the engine. He drove a few blocks further west, then north, before he finally slammed on the brakes outside Armin's building.

Armin was on his stoop, reading a book by the floodlight above the door, but looked up at the car screeching to a halt. He sighed and got to his feet, tucking his book under his arm, and opened the back door while Eren plugged an address into his phone's GPS. "You know when I said I wanted to go to the beach, I was thinking during the day when everyone had off," he said, sliding into the back seat and closing the door behind him. Without answering or waiting for him to put on his seatbelt, Eren sped off again. Armin flew forward and caught himself between the two front seats with a cry.

"Are you okay?" asked Mikasa.

"Fine," replied Armin, trying and failing not to sound resentful as he addressed Eren again. "What are you so wound up for?"

"Nothing," snapped Eren, and it was completely true. He had no idea why he couldn't sleep or why movement and loud noises and intense sensations were the only things that seemed to help. If he knew, he wouldn't be driving to fucking Rockaway at 1 AM, would he? He kept his music up and his eyes forward, and though he saw Armin and Mikasa exchange a look in the rearview mirror, neither of them said anything. For the rest of the drive, Mikasa watched Eren discreetly while Armin observed them both with a slight crease between his eyebrows.

Forty five minutes later, Eren slowed down and finally stopped on Rockaway Beach Boulevard, newly built luxury apartments on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. He swerved awkwardly into the nearest parking space and shut off the engine, the sudden silence echoing inside the car. "Let's go," he said, opening his door to another blast of hot summer air, now tinged with salt. He got out, kicked his shoes onto the floor of the car and rolled up the cuffs of his jeans before slamming the door shut. He headed towards the beach, Mikasa and Armin following him at a distance, and leapt over the chain blocking the entrance to the empty boardwalk. He strode across it, then finally stepped onto the sand.

The beach was deserted except for a few meandering groups of friends and homeless people sleeping close to the boardwalk. However, Eren paid no one any mind as he made his way towards the ocean. It was rougher than he'd expected, and though he could see more stars, most of the light came from cargo ships close to the horizon and planes landing and taking off from JFK. However, the view still put him in mind of deep space, and his racing heart slowed a little. He stepped closer, and a wave crashed over his feet. The chilly water was a sharp contrast from the hot, sticky air, and as the wave receded, he imagined it pulling him out to sea, cold blackness surrounding him on all sides. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath of salty air and sighed it out, waiting for another crashing wave, another split second's relief, but,

"Eren?" He gritted his teeth and turned to face Mikasa and Armin, who were looking at him as if for further instructions. However, Eren said nothing.

"How long are you planning on staying here?" asked Armin, after a moment.

"I dunno. Take the train back if you want." Armin stared back at him incredulously. Eren waited, but in the end Armin just sighed and looked down at his bare feet, then up at the night sky, then finally at Mikasa.

"Let's go look for shells," he told her, gently, and Eren was relieved when she actually went with him, though he doubted she'd let them stray too far.

Eren vented his resentment in a sigh and walked further out so the water was up to his knees. Though he kept his gaze straight ahead, he could still see his best friend and sister out of the corner of his eye. He wondered what they were talking about. Probably school. Their summer sessions at NYU comprised most of their conversations. Eren could have joined them, but after his freshman year he didn't see much point in continuing at all, much less speeding up the process. As far as he was concerned, school was and always had been a cage of arbitrary rewards that didn't guarantee shit, and what the fuck was he going to do with a pre-med degree anyway? Actually become a doctor like his father and take care of sick people? He'd only agreed to avoid the fall out.

"Really, if my existence was going to tear my family apart, I might as well be worth something, right?" Historia said, half laughing, half despairing, one spring night when they were passing a blunt back and forth on her fire escape.

"Fucking scumbags," Eren replied, and Historia smiled at his solidarity. "You didn't ask for this." Historia opened her mouth, but at that moment someone inside her and Ymir's apartment screamed. Historia cast an annoyed look over her shoulder at the party inside the apartment, then stared Eren hard in the face.

"Neither did you," she said, very seriously, and he actually appreciated her sympathy. Her family was fucked up the same way his was.

Eren stepped back from the waves and sat down in the sand, resting his elbows on his bent knees and staring out into the blackness before him. The constant crashing of waves, the breeze and the other distant noises wrapped around him, and his mind and heart seemed to slow to a reasonable speed at last. As he breathed in more of the sea air, he felt his lungs expand enough to ease the tension around them. Maybe he really would be able to get to sleep.

How long he sat there, he had no idea. He might have even drifted off a little, or shifted into that weird limbo state between sleeping and waking. All he did know was that the sky was suddenly lightening and that Mikasa and Armin had actually left him alone the whole time. Gratitude, small and shriveled as it was, took root in his newly expanded chest. He blinked, and tears slid down his face. He wiped them away with his fist and looked over his shoulder to see Armin asleep on his side next to Mikasa, who was watching him with glassy eyes. He got up and approached them, his limbs stiff and uncomfortable, and wiped more tears away.

"Ready to go?" asked Mikasa, her voice hoarse from tiredness. Eren nodded. Mikasa gently shook Armin awake, and he sat up with a yawn, then looked around in some confusion before fixing his sleepy gaze upon Eren.

"It's getting light out, I'll drive you home," Eren said in a slightly choked voice. Armin nodded. "Sorry." Armin nodded again and stood up, brushing sand off his clothes and out of his hair. He then helped Mikasa to her feet and the three of them made their slow, ungainly way back to the car.

The drive back seemed to take much less time, and the pink and gold sunrise bringing the city back to life was beautiful. They dropped Armin off first, and he told them, "I'll see you later," in a heavy, exhausted voice before slamming the back door shut, book and souvenir shell tucked under his arm. As Eren and Mikasa drove back across town, Central Park was lush and inviting rather than dark and forbidding, already full of people running and walking their dogs.

"Will you be able to sleep now?" asked Mikasa, her head against the window.

"Here's hoping," Eren replied, and though he knew better than to be optimistic, the signs were good. His body felt heavy, numb to sensation rather than craving it, his breathing was slower and his eyes were itching.

They were lucky with green lights all the way down 2nd Avenue, and in no time they turned left and pulled up to the townhouse.

Only to find Grisha and Carla standing fully dressed on the front steps.

"Oh shit," muttered Eren, slamming on the brakes to bring the car to the speed limit as they got closer. Someone had taken the parking spot in front of the house, so he pulled up beside that car, shut off his music and put the hazard lights on. His parents immediately sprinted towards them, and Eren and Mikasa got out, preparing for the worst.

"Where the hell were you?" demanded Grisha, while Carla just crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared. However, before either Eren or Mikasa could answer, "I don't care if you go out, but do not take the car without asking me!"

'Oh fuck,' Eren thought, 'he's actually angry.' He stared warily at his father as he made to take the keys out of the ignition, but,

"Don't bother. You-" he addressed Mikasa, "-go back to bed. You-" he jabbed his finger at Eren, "get back in the car."

"Why?!" Eren demanded, panicking slightly as the sleep that was so achingly close was suddenly held hostage.

"Because you're coming to Zeke's apartment with me." Eren's eyes widened in genuine shock. This was the last thing he'd ever have expected.

"Why?!" he demanded again, and something in Grisha's face tightened in the early morning sun.

"I just got off the phone with the police. He's dead."

Well... That's chapter 1, I guess!

I'll be updating this fic every Thursday, so if you liked this I'd love to see you back next week! Thank you so so much for reading this far, it means the absolute world to me. Also please check the author's notes for content warnings! I know this week's was kind of long and gushing, but this fic is gonna get pretty gnarly and I don't want anyone reading anything distressing by accident.

Anyway, thank you again, see you next week!

Leave me a review and I'll dedicate my heart to you!