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levis-coffeecup · 4 months ago

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chapter 26| Promise

WC-4.0k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

Hiiii,

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in the fic. Had this chapter in mind, ever since I was coming up with the idea of writing this fic.

Hope you enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed writing it! Song for this chapter is Aaj Jaane Ki Zidd Na Karo by Arijit Singh.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

MAY 850

The harsh summer sun is waning, and the clouds part to reveal a gradient of pink and purple in the sky. The incoherent chatter of passers plays like white noise, and Levi walks through the narrow lanes of Trost.

He finds the evening sky is calming.

He was here, just a few days ago too. Busy running away from Kenny and protecting Eren from the clutches of the royal family.

But things are different today. The stress on his mind has reduced immeasurably. There is a slight bounce in his gait, and he almost smiles, as he sees two kids run past him, with a kite in their hands.

Things have started falling back into normalcy. From the capture of the Female Titan to the false breach of Rose. Humanity is slowly healing.

And to Levi, the humdrum of a mundane life has always felt comforting .

Mae’s house appears at a distance. It doesn’t look the same as before, but the repairs made by the government are functional. Mae seems to be comfortable.

And Levi smiles as he sees a candle, flickering through the window. She’s home.

He picks up his pace, the beat of his heart picking up as well.

The yellow walls that he once looked at with distaste, have now found a place in his heart. And a simple slab of wood has never seemed so welcoming. It feels like he hasn’t seen her in forever.

His knocks on her door almost seem urgent. And he taps his foot to somehow contain his excitement.

Then he hears the sound of the latch being opened. And he’s just about to make a comment about her taking a crap for too long. But her voice reaches him first, taut from all the crying.

When the door finally opens, Levi is taken aback by the sight of her..

Her hair is disheveled, her cheeks are tear stained. And her eyes sing of the tragedies and woes of all mortal beings.

The picture is hauntingly similar to the time when her parents died.

“Levi.” her voice frays. The sound tugs all his heartstrings, and he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

Her composure breaks the moment she meets the gray in his eyes. And her hands tremble as they cradle his face. Staunch disbelief makes her eyes go wide, and a single tear falls from her waterlines. As if millions haven’t fallen before already. “I-I thought you were dead,” she croaks.

The pain in her eyes is just a glimpse of what she’ll go through, the day he actually ends up dying. And Levi gulps at the sight. The possibility of that happening is higher than he’d like to tell her.

It’s a happy day though. He should think of happier thoughts.

“Come here,” he opens his arms wide, welcoming her in a hug. And she jumps into his arms desperate to feel the pulse inside his chest.

Her shoulders quake with an intensity that makes Levi queasy. Her restlessness gets the best of her. And her grip around him doesn’t loosen, even when he carries her to the couch, and sits on it. “Where were you?” she cries. “ So m-many people were t-telling me t-that you were k-kiled by the government.”

He rove his hand over her head. “ I’m alright… I’m right here, aren’t I?” And the pads of his finger are gentle as they wipe the tears slipping down her face. “I’m going to be safe now… Historia is the new Queen.”

He speaks with logic, but he does not make sense to her.

Her hands still tremble against his skin. Scared that he will disappear into thin air.

She looks like she hasn’t slept for days. And his heart breaks, unable to comprehend the turmoil she’s been through this past week, while he was busy with his undercover mission.

In an attempt to distract her, he bends and takes out the knife he keeps strapped to his ankles. “Here..” he holds it out to her. “Sasha stitched this wound for me,… but it must have healed by now… mind, taking the stitches off?”

“Wound?” She panics. It’s something that completely slipped past her mind. “ Oh my god! I didn’t consider that, and I just jumped on you.” Her hands start frantically roving over his frame. “Are you hurt anywhere, did you-”

“Sweetheart, “ a rare laugh slips past his lips, and he cuts her off by putting his finger on her lips. “Wouldn’t I walk differently if I had an injury that serious?”

He takes off his shirt and turns his right arm towards her. “See, one wound is, that’s all… not a scratch anywhere else.”

And Mae gulps, as she takes the knife in his hands.

No matter what she thinks of, the facts, the wins, the strength of Levi Ackerman, the tears don’t stop. They rage like the walls of a dam, left abused and broken. And every part of her still trembles. Her fear still holds her in a vice grip.

It all started when she heard a few distant gunshots. Then the fight between Levi and the Military Police became the talk of the town. People saw him dash through the roads, with the police hot on his tail. Some saw him surrounded by armed men in a Tavern as well.

In the next few hours, the government was arresting the Survey Corps, Erwin was going to be prosecuted, and Levi was nowhere to be found.

And all Mae heard all day long were rumors about his disappearance, and the thoughts of his dead corpse. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat. Completely consumed by the anxiety of losing him.

Next thing she knew, there were wanted posters with a drawing of Levi on every wall. He had a huge bounty on his head, and she even heard people conspire ways they would find him.

As it is she faced the fear of losing him with every mission he went on. But now he wasn't even safe inside the walls? The one place she thought he'd be safe…

Days came and went.

The long line of patients at her clinic somehow kept her busy during the day.

But the nights were the same. With her tossing and turning in bed, helpless. She physically felt her heart rip to pieces, at the thought of never seeing Levi again.

The knife in her hand quivers as she brings it closer to the bandage wrapped around his upper arms. She hasn’t lost him yet, the thought leaves a bittersweet aftertaste.

Then Levi cups both of her cheeks, and looks into her eyes.

The knife is so close to his skin. Unsheathed and sharp. And yet he stills for minutes. And yet he closes his eyes as he presses his forehead to hers.

It's a different kind of intimacy, not one he even registers now. All his are instincts pushed to the side

And as he keeps her in his palms, foreheads pressed and eyes closed, his love conquers. And he wastes no time to claim her, pressing his lips onto hers.

She melts with every little kiss. And she finds herself, settling into his warmth . Losing herself in the feeling of his lips against hers. It's so strong, that it pulls her out of her fears, and tethers her back to the world.

He angles her face, as he pulls her closer. And she finds home, in the erratic rhythm of his heart.

When they part, all their worries scurry away, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. And Levi puts his head on Mae’s lap. Tired from all the happenings of the week.

So much has happened, and much more is bound to happen. The mystery of the titans is only unfolding. And so far it has been taxing. His eyelids start drooping shut, and his breath evens out.

When he looks up he sees Mae. And she smiles, still teary-eyed. Holding him with such tenderness, it makes him feel delicate.

He lets the warmth of her eyes wash over him.

“Mae,” he reaches an arm up to touch her face.

And Mae nods, pushing away the hair that falls on his forehead.

“Kenny… “ he gulps. “Keny didn’t leave me because I wasn’t good enough…”

And she tucks a strand of hair behind his earlobe “I always told you, you were perfect, didn’t I?”

A rare smile traces on his lips. And even though his cynical mind wants to run off with more questions , he lets that part of him rest. The last thing he remembers before sleep comes to him is Mae telling him she’ll make a mask for his hair in the evening.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

AUG 850

The night treats Mae cruelly.

It's cold, heavy, and dark. The lights are dimmed out, and people sleep peacefully in the illusionary safety of these walls. Forgetting that there is still a war to be fought, an enemy to be conquered.

Days have passed by in a flash.

And restlessness has conquered her thoughts. Peace has eluded her. And she can only try to comfort herself, as she looks at the tall walls that surround Trost.

Levi goes past them tomorrow. Tomorrow he goes to conquer Shinghansina again.

And yet he isn’t beside her.

She decides to not read into it. She knows how he can be sometimes. And she knows how stressful the nights before a mission are. Especially for a mission as tough and risky as this one.

The Survey Corps is going to go all out.

The wind blows in her face. And her lips tremble as she looks over the sleeping city. The uncertainty of tomorrow’s mission has captured her entire heart. And its claws dig in. Slicing gashes across her skin, and making her heart bleed.

She feels dizzy, and a single tear slips past.

His memory haunts, night and day. She wishes he was here, spending a few moments with her before he puts his life on the line again.

But her job is to make his life easier, not to burden him with her desires. And she can only hope that he finds the time to come meet her, before he leaves for the mission tomorrow.

She can only hope she’s being good to him.

And Levi sits in the dark corner of a desolate shop. With a bottle of whisky by his side, and his hands touching the filthy dust on the floor.

Outside, the sound of Eren, Mikasa and Armin fills the quietness. They chatter about all that is lost and all that they still look forward to.

In them he sees Isabel and Farlan. After all they too were naive, young kids who were forced to grow up a little too young.

Armin concludes that he wants to see the sea. The enthusiasm woven in his voice is infectious.

And Levi gulps. Isabel wanted to see the sky too.

And yet he is the only one who gets to see the sky everyday. It’s unfair, something he doesn’t deserve after all the times he’s fucked up.

Tomorrow is a big day though. He hopes he can make them proud. And he hopes he can avenge all his fallen comrades.

The thought makes him feel content yet also nervous. They’ve come a long way. And yet they stand at a place where everything is uncertain.

No one knows how many shifting titans wait for them out on the battle ground. No one knows the type of terror might be hauled onto them. And for the first time, Levi is failing to understand Erwin’s motives as well.

The thought itself makes him furious. And he plops open the cork of the bottle, and gulps down its contents.

The alcohol burns his throat and bleeds into his bloodstream. Ushering him to the brink of a collapse, that he is dangerously close to.

Every time he shuts his eyes close, his heart begins to race. Wrecked by the weight of the world and the cynicism in his head.

He brings the bottle to his lips again. Gobbling the liquid until the bottle is half way done. It’s a good distraction.

A good distraction from the people that will inevitably die tomorrow. A good distraction from Erwin, who despite his pitiful condition is hellbent on going to the mission

Mikasa, Eren and Armin get up, and Levi doesn’t try to hide in the shadows. He’s a little too absorbed in his grief to even think of that. Fortunately for him, they don’t notice either.

He drinks, he drinks, he drinks up his misery. It's one of those days, where every loss he has ever endured comes crashing towards him.

His eyes ache, tired. His brain throbs, numb. And his entire body hurts, but it doesn’t stop trembling from restlessness. He’s exhausted, but sleep can’t grace him. He’s hungry, but the stress of the mission also takes his appetite away.

The night gets colder, and he shivers, sticking closer to the musty wall he rests his back on.

He fears he’s a little too close to self destruction. Shrouded by darkness, surrounded by doubts. A little too far away from everything and everyone.

And with his tattered soul, he carries himself to the only home he’s ever known.

━━━━━━━

It's 1 in the morning when Mae’s door rattles open. And she can’t help the tears that spring up in her eyes as she takes in Levi’s form.

Levi’s eyes give away. Distressed underneath the expectations he has for himself, and tormented by the uncertainty that comes along with the mission.

His breathing is heavy and she rushes closer to him. Taking the empty bottle of whisky from his hands and hauling him inside. “Where have you been all this while,” she reprimands.

Not an answer. It's often like this with Levi. He still hesitates to open up, to show where it hurts.

To him it's still a mere weakness.

Little does he know, she loves him the most when he’s weak and vulnerable, yet strong in his resolve and ambition. So beautifully human.

She makes him sit on the couch and snakes an arm around his waist, to hold him still. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Tch,” he scoffs and pushes her away. “Of course I’m alright, I know my limits with alcohol, I’m not going to drink when there's a mission 12 hours from now.” His tone is confident, but his eyes remain vacant.

His body is here, physically present. But he is somewhere else, a distant place where she can’t reach no matter how hard she tries. And she feels lost in all the darkness he resides in.

“I’ll run you a warm bath to clean you up, or would you like some tea.” She pleads, hoping something helps. The last thing she wants is for him to go on the mission in such a miserable state.

But he doesn’t answer again. He just sits, quietly fluming, and overwhelmed as hell.

And Mae rushes to bring a wet washcloth, to wipe the dirt gathered on his knuckles.

The cooling sensation of the cloth brings him back to this earth. And he watches as she takes his hand in hers, and gently rubs the filth away.

His eyes drop to her lips, and he blinks. The strings of his heart tug at him, feeble when she’s with him.

Her love alone has the strength to make him surrender. And he leans in, pressing a gentle peck on her lips. It’s a sweet distraction.

A couple moments pass by in stifling silence. And as she gets up to put the cloth away, his hand latches to her wrist.

“Sit…here.” There’s an underlying agony in his voice, that makes her break a bit.

He can never see how sad he looks from her perspective.

And whilst Levi struggles with the criticality of tomorrow’s mission, Mae struggles with something too.

The possibility of losing him.

Turmoil has weighed heavily over her the past few days. From one thing to another, she’s hardly gotten any rest. And now Levi leaves again tomorrow. It feels like sadness looms over them like a heavy cloud ready to rain.

“Come let's sleep, honey… “ She sits next to him again. “You have a mission tomorrow.” Her voice almost frays at the cruelty of the moment. The condition he’s in breaks her to pieces.

“No I don’t want to sleep,” his answer is immediate. Maybe he’s having it a little too hard with his nightmares. “You go and sleep. I’ll just stay here for a while.”

“I slept already… in the afternoon today,” she lies. Deciding that Levi needs her more, than she needs her sleep. “How about we put a mattress on the terrace, and watch the stars?”

And Levi follows, always working well with orders.

He helps her take the mattress up the stairs.

The night has turned colder and the cold bites at his hands. He shivers as he sits unusually stiff.

Soon Mae brings a set of blankets and pillows, to keep the both of them warm. And they lay down, watching the stars twinkle above.

The stars always made Levi feel better, a constant reminder of where he had begun and how far he has come. And Mae hopes that today they remind him of how proud she is of him.

She holds his hand first, and then she turns towards him. Shifting close.

And Levi gives in, defeated and exhausted. She takes her time to gently kiss the creases between his brows. Until they fade

Their feet mingle under the warm blanket. And they snuggle up, arms wrapped around each other.

Moments trickle by in silence and the effect of the alcohol fades away. The only thing that remains now is the warmth of her arms and the steadiness of her breath.

And Mae is a reminder that whilst there isn’t much positivity in this cruel cold world, there is always warmth.

He takes a deep breath. The sound of which is loud in the silence.

“My mom…” He exhales heavily. “I don’t remember much of her, but she would say that the stars are nothing but the souls of all the people that have left the world. Scattered across the darkness, so that when we look up at the sky and remember their stories.”

And Mae frowns the longer she looks at him. “A lot of people are going to die tomorrow, aren’t they?” She speaks with sadness.

“Death is the only thing that’s certain,” he jokes.

And Mae doesn’t understand whether Levi needs to be comforted, or to be heard.

“You’ll do your best… I’m sure of it. And that’s all you can do Levi, that’s all that’s in your control.”

His eyes flit from the stars to her. And he feels a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re so good to me.” His tone softens and he pulls her closer. And she doesn’t know whether it's the alcohol acting up, because Levi hardly gets drunk. Or if it's all the stress that's taking a toll on him.

A beat of silence passes by. And as she looks into the soft gray of his eyes, she realizes how quickly time is passing by. Like dust flying in a sandstorm.

Slowly she places her hand on the crown of his head. And her lips find the arch of his cheekbone.

She can feel the war on his skin. In his calluses and his scars, and the way his hardened eyes only soften for the bits when he’s with her.

Levi is his battle and half of that is hers.

She needs to be brave enough to let him go.

“Say Levi,” her voice lingers, uncertain with doubt. She questions whether the troubles on her mind should be picked apart now out of all times.

But time waits for no one

And she might never see the gray in his eyes turn blue in the sunlight. She might not see the new scars on his body. He might die tomorrow, erased from her life. Becoming a memory so distant, that she can only remember, never experience.

And if Levi dies tomorrow then the words in her mind will never get the chance to settle in his heart. “If I ask you for something, will you do it for me?”

He parts away from her, taking in the destruction on her face.

A thickness settles in his throat, and he frowns the longer he looks at her.

Because he knows he can’t give her anything other than his heart.

Hell, he can’t even assure her that he’ll come back alive. Because this mission will be dangerous, and if his death becomes important for victory, then he’ll have to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

“That depends on what you ask of me.” His voice comes out wispy. He feels like such a failure. These might as well be the few last moments he spends with her, and yet he has nothing but his own misery to share with her.

“If you die -” her lips shudder, pressing into a thin line. Words fail her, not able to slip out of her mouth without a sob.

“If you die… tomorrow, or whenever.” Tears fill her lash line, and she tries to blink them away.

She needs to be strong. She needs to be strong enough to convince him

“If you die tomorrow…, d-do you promise me that you’ll d-die happy? Will you think of how far you've come, instead of all your failures and regrets?” Her eyes sparkle, in the sadness they are trying to cage, but there is also so much love endowed in her gaze.

Because Levi stumbled into life, and then became her life.

Her biggest fear will always be losing him. But Levi doesn’t need to know that. Not for his sanity at least.

And so she pulls out the sweetest, fakest smile. Betraying the tears lingering in her eyes. “ Most of all, I want you to know that I’ll be fine,” her voice cracks.

“So…” Her fingertips shudder as they trace his jawline. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about leaving me behind if you end up dying.”

And Levi pulls her close. Letting her cry into his arms. After all, who is she trying to fool?

And Mae breaks in an instant. He can feel the violent shudder of her shoulders and the wet patches that her tears leave on his shirt.

His fingertips card through her hair, and his other hand slips underneath her top. He focuses on the softness of her skin, and her scent. And the bitterness of life hits him hard, as he hears her trying to suppress her sobs.

In the 4 years that they’ve been together, he’s not given her much. Not a comfortable life, not sweet flirty compliments or a million gifts. Not even a reason to stay honestly.

And only they’ve known what an abnormal relationship it has been. With meeting her once every three months, to letters that have been delivered to the wrong person. He has missed her birthdays. He has responded to her letters very late. And he’s always walked so close to death.

She’s been through hell just to be with him. And even now, she tells him to not worry about leaving her behind, instead of begging him not to die.

He feels so loved and privileged.

“You’re so strong.” he whispers into her hair. It’s his way of praising her selflessness.

“Really?” she manages to mutter despite her hushed cries. And he finds it so sad that she still doesn’t see herself the way he sees her.

“Mhmm,” he hums. “Humanity’s Strongest is telling you that. Are you doubting him?”

“To me he’s always been Humanity’s Cutest.”

“Tch,” He clicks his tongue. Somehow the nickname still annoys him.

The next day brings hell for both of them. And with gentleness, Levi picks Mae’s head up and forces her to look at him.

“Mae…” The conflict in his voice is palpable, but there’s also a strong resolution hidden underneath. “I can only make the promise you’re asking for, if you make a promise to me as well.”

“What promise?” Her brows furrow, and she looks up at him through her clumpy lashes.

And his lips morph into a bittersweet smile, as he holds her in his eyes a moment longer. “If I die tomorrow, or in the future…, then find another-”

“WHAT! NOOO.” Mae interjects, knowing where he’s headed with this.

“Find another man,” he mutters heavily, as he pushes her hair behind her ear and presses a kiss on her upper lip. ”A man who can make you happy and give you stability and security. Find someone who can give you a normal life… a family.”

“Levi noooo,” she whines, and as she looks up at him, fresh tears crowd her waterlines.

The sound of her sobs fills the emptiness of the night. She can’t love anyone the way she loves Levi. It has captured her entire being, and the man who comes into her life next, will be only left with the remnants that Levi leaves of her.

She shifts to her side, turning her back towards him. Maybe she’s childish, but Levi is being unreasonable too. How dare he ask her to find someone else, when he knows how much she loves him?

“I am yours and I only want to be yours,”she speaks with sternness. And Levi places her hand on the dip of her waist, but she picks it up and pushes it away.

“Mae..” his voice teeters at the edge of a plea. “I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

“You don’t have to give me anything Levi,” she turns towards him, almost furious. “I make my own money. All I want is your heart and your companionship… I knew the risks I took when I decided to be with you… And I'd rather be alone, than to find someone else.” she concludes.

And Levi has been alone too. But Mae has taught him how wonderful companionship can be.

He doesn’t want her to be lonely.

"Seeing me with another man, will that make you happy?" she taunts.

"Seeing you happy will make me happy…" he whispers with tenderness, as his fingertips wipe her tears away.

"If I tell you to find another girl after I die, would you do it?"

"No,” he answers, without pondering for even a millisecond.

"Then why should I?" She retorts.

"Because this relationship was something I never expected in my life. I am grateful to have experienced having one, and that is enough for me, but can you confidently tell me that you have never dreamed of getting married? Of having a family?"

His questions are met with silence. Instead Mae glares at him, too slack jawed to find her reasonings. And resolve slips so easily from her features, as she thinks about what she wants for once.

She’s always dreamt of getting married and starting a family.

The bitter truth hits home, and she curls into herself.

“But Levi…” her voice comes out feeble. “ I want all of those things with you… I want to live the rest of my life as your lover… and your lover only.”

A bittersweet smile finds Levi’s lips. He hopes she can experience the love that she’s made him feel. He hopes she finds someone who pampers her and gives her all his time in the world. And unfortunately that person can never be him.

"You're always going to be my only lover, the only woman I have ever laid my eyes on," he coos as he places a kiss on the crook of her neck. "You-you'll always be m--my girl," His arms around her tighten, and her cries get louder.

Destiny has made their love too strong, yet the world so cruel.

"Sweetheart," his voice quivers. He’d rather have a bullet in his stomach than to hear the painful sound of her sobs. "Please."

He feels like he’s only seen her cry these past few months.

And so kisses her, relentlessly, wholly.

It might as well be the last time he gets to do it.

Morning comes closer, and the stars start to fade.

And when they part, they rest their foreheads against each other. Stealing a moment’s heaven before hell falls on the earth again.

"If I keep my promise, will you keep yours?. Even if it seems incredibly hard.” She speaks against his skin.

"I will." he affirms with unwavering confidence. Their pinkies intertwine.

The world falls into the brink of dawn, slowly waking to the day that’s in front of them. But Levi and Mae remain still, not ready to move on yet. With their eyes shut and their foreheads pressed.

"When I die, look up to the stars for me… I'll be watching after you.” Levi breaks the silence. His voice is wispy, but awfully sweet.

"Will you be smiling at me?" Mae questions back with utmost innocence.

And he smiles in response, "only if you smile at me first."

The sunlight catches her features. And her eyes sparkle, both with pain and love.

His heart pounds, and he takes his sweet time, holding her in his gaze. If he were to die now, it would be a sweet death.

I don't have much to say hehe. But I would love to know what you thought about the chapter! I'm open to feedback as well!

See you next Saturday!

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas @leviackermanmyhero245 (message me if you want to be added)

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fyeahaudiodrama · 1 year ago

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Hey

Psst

It’s October

You know what that means?

[kicks down the front door completely unnecessarily]

HAUNTINGLY HUMDRUM HALLOWEEN ANTHOLOGY TIME!

#capslock #Spotify

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sadbirdsstillsing · 1 year ago

Text

#Spotify

0 notes

white-as-ice · 6 years ago

Text

WHERE ARE YOU GOING, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? INTRODUCTION

Here's the spooky fact: it's pretty hard to get through even an Intro to Lit college class without coming across Joyce Carol Oates's eerie "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" And once you do, it's downright impossible to forget.

Maybe you'll be blown away by the psychological depth of the main character. Maybe you'll be forever creeped out by the unforgettable antagonist. Maybe you'll be puzzling over the hidden meaning—what do the numbers on the side of Arnold Friend's convertible mean? Or maybe you'll just be steamrolled by the bleak-yet-transcendent ending.

Another option? Being—like us—affected by all of the above.

First published in 1966, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" became an instant classic. It's regularly included in literary anthologies of great fiction, and was even adapted into a popular 1986 film, Smooth Talk, starring Laura Dern.

According to Oates, the story was inspired by a Life magazine story about the serial killer Charles Schmid, who, like the story's villain, was an older man who preyed on adolescent girls. So what prompted Oates to pen this little tale? Was she fascinated by the twisted psychology of murderers?

Nope—not exactly. What stuck with her was "the disturbing fact that a number of teenagers—from "good" families—aided and abetted his crimes" (Source).

Part of what makes Oates's story so deeply affecting is that it deflects most of the attention away from the would-be killer—who is still rendered as being totally terrifying—and directs attention to the victim, Connie, and her humdrum suburban existence.

The story is set in 1960's middle-American, and the ideological turmoil of the times simmers just below the surface. You know about the 1960's—it was a decade when moral and social conventions were being challenged left and right, and the rush of American optimism and materialism after World War II was being questioned. This was the time of the Civil Rights Movement, the birth of the hippie counterculture, and the wild popularity of rock bands like the shaggy-haired Beatles. Issues such as feminism, sexual freedom, and adolescent sexuality were hot topics.

In other words, it was a time of great, controversial upheaval.

And, like the 1960's themselves, this story has generated tons o' controversy since its publication. Oates has described Connie's actions at the end of the story as an "unexpected gesture of heroism," a decision to sacrifice herself so that her family would remain unharmed. But not all critics are convinced. Some read the story as an anti-feminist allegory: Arnold Friend is Connie's punishment for having sexual feelings for boys. Others read the story as a feminist critique of a male-dominated society: the ending is essentially tragic, Connie's submission to Arnold Friend standing for the ways women are oppressed in a patriarchal society. Some even read the last scenes as evidence of Connie's psychosis: there's no ennobling act here, just a fragile psyche falling apart (see Showalter's "Introduction" for a broad sketch of the debate).

Multiple, conflicting interpretations—that's the risk the story takes in leaving the ending hauntingly open-ended. The "vast sunlit reaches of land" that dazzle Connie at the end of the story may as well be a stand-in vast array of interpretations that generations of readers bring to it...which is one reason why the story continues to captivate us, concern us, and haunt our dreams.

WHAT IS WHERE ARE YOU GOING, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? ABOUT AND WHY SHOULD I CARE?

Here's the hard, cold truth: horrible things happen to ordinary people.

We're guessing you're familiar with that fact. You're canny; you know about stranger danger, fearless investigations, shocked witnesses, and grieving family members. It's the kind of thing that our society is fascinated with—a citizen, minding his or her own business—is struck down by evil forces that have been lurking nearby the whole time. You've read the news articles/watched enough local TV/ binge-watched show like Twin Peaks, Law & Order: SVU, The Killing, and True Detective.

In fact, you might be a little sick of hearing about how horrible things happen to ordinary people. And if that's the case—especially if that's the case, you should read "Where Are You Going, When Have You Been."

Because it's very rare that a story of small-town abduction is told from the point of view of the victim.

Disclaimer: this story ain't easy. In fact, it may be one of the most upsetting stories we've ever read...despite the fact that it contains no blood, no physical violence, and no weapons. We think that's because we're so closely inside the victim's head in the moments leading up to her abduction that we start to feel like her.

She goes from bemused and flattered that a guy she met once has showed up on her doorstep to feeling icked out that he's obviously lying about his age to terrified that he's speaking like a deranged lunatic to near-hysterical as he threatens to beat down her door and harm her family. And we experience these emotions even as she does.

But don't get the wrong idea: this isn't comparable to shouting "Don't go in there!" at a movie screen as a character moves slowly towards a basement door. We don't know more than our protagonist. We're not feeling even remotely smug or cozy. We're there in her head, empathizing.

Even if you read this story with an eye towards the abstract—and believe us, there are so many juicy ways to analyze this story that it unpacks like a Fiat holding a thousand clowns—you're still going to come away unsettled, rattled, and Googling "what's the best home alarm system."

And we think that's both a testament to Joyce Carol Oates writing prowess and the fact that there's nothing as powerful as deeply empathizing with a character.

Source [x]

#joyce carol oates #where are you going where have you been #literature #analysis #a whiff of sex and americans flock #what a weird society

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lovelymissoye · 1 year ago

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"A Familiar Betrayal"

Might I interest you in a black cat that does what it wants, giant pumpkins, and a little boy with a simple dream? "A Familiar Betrayal", episode one of Hauntingly Humdrum!

RadioPublic

Spotify

Google

Apple

RSS

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Episode written by Key Knight, who created this gorgeous, atmospheric adorable piece This episode was narrated by @bibliophilea who did an amazing job as lead performer in the first episode of the series!

The boy was played by Philomena Sherwood, who was a godsend because this role was the one in the entire series I was most terrified to cast (bc child) and Philomena just came in and knocked it out of the park :D

Sound design by @latinorobotico I said atmospheric earlier and they are a huge part of why I use that to describe this episode. I was so excited to hear how the big group scene would go and they just made it so cohesive!

And the ensemble pumpkin gatherers were filled out by myself and Mike Cuellar who you'll see featured again in a few days :D

#Hauntingly Humdrum #HumdrumPod #Halloween #Audio fiction #Audio drama #if any of yall find this post and want me to change up the links #just let me know #october 19

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skyfullofpods · 1 year ago

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Random Podcast Recommendations Mega-List Part 1!

Updated: 07/12/23

Collected here in part 1 because tumblr has a limit of 100 links per post of my alphabetical list are the fiction podcasts from A-M I've recommended so far for my random podcast recommendations! Part 2 is here

A A Ninth World Journal Afflicted Aishi Online Alba Salix Among the Stars and Bones Apollyon Arden ars PARADOXICA

B Back Again, Back Again The Ballad of Anne & Mary The Beacon Believer Black Friday Breaker Whiskey The Bright Sessions

C CARAVAN Chaika Chain of Being Civilized Coexistence Come On In, The Water's Fine Copperheart Counterbalance

D Death by Dying Desert Skies Desperado Diary of a Space Archivist Dining in the Void Directive Do You Copy Dos: After You Down

E The Earth Collective Elaine’s Cooking for the Soul Electromancy The End of Time and Other Bothers Ethics Town Exoplanetary Everything is Alive

F Falling Forward Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back The Far Meridian Fireside Folktales Folxlore Forgive Me!

G Gay Future Georgie Romero Is Done For Girl in Space The Goblet Wire Gone Great & Terrible Greater Boston Greenhouse

H Hallway to Nowhere Hand in Glove Harlem Queen Hauntingly Humdrum Hello From the Hallowoods Hi Nay Hit the Bricks Human Error

I Immunities InCo Inhale Inn Between In Transit

J Janus Descending Jar of Rebuke Joy to the World Jupiter Saloon

K Kalila Stormfire's Economical Magick Services Kane and Feels Keep It Steady The Kingmaker Histories

L The Last Echoes Less is Morgue Liars & Leeches Life On Pause Light Hearts LIMBO Lost Terminal Love and Luck

M Margaret's Garden Margaritas & Donuts The McIlwraith Statements Me and AU Mercury: A Broadcast of Hope Meteor City Middle:Below Moonbase Theta, Out

#Random Podcast Recommendations #audio fiction #audio drama #podcasts #podcast recommendations #podcast recs #fiction podcasts

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a-writing-bear · 7 years ago

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[FrUk] Secret Santa 2017: Familiar Company

This is a Gift for @lastloveliestsmile for the @fruk-net Secret Santa event!!! ʕ♡˙ᴥ˙♡ʔ

Note: Happy Holidays! I’m extremely sorry that I kinda went a bit far from your prompt but writing angst is a bit tricky for me, so enjoy a bit more fluff!! <3 Hopefully the French phrases I used aren’t too incorrectly phrased!

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012116

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Word Count: 1,558

Age Rating/Mature: All Audiences :)

Prompt: “ You are giving the gift of fanfiction to @lastloveliestsmile. Their prompts are: "domestic cuddling, pets, the museum and ANGSTY discussion of their shared history" “

History was what kept them together for so long. Or at least that’s what the brit had concluded as he leant across the doorway, watching Francis hum slightly as he prepared breakfast over a kitchen counter, mindlessly cutting up some strawberries. It was the familiarity of their relations which brought comfort – albeit France’s presence in his Arthur’s existence was an often cause of conflict in the past, it was a true honest-to-god fact that they had always seemed to be around each other no matter how fickle they had been. No Matter what.

“Bonjour Arthur! Shame that my l’amour de ma vie had no decency to wake up and help with breakfast.” The green-eyed man snorted, still clad in a ruffled shirt from the night before paired with messy hair sticky out at odd places. Arthur appreciated Francis’ teasing humour more than he likes to admit, even with words drenched and spoken with the Parisian tinged accent. A part of him cringed at the term of endearment his ‘partner’ had teasingly used but yet, even with his bad understanding of the language, Arthur found it oddly tender.

The slight bright tinge of fluster that had appeared on the brit’s face was mismatched with the gruff reply he had almost whispered as he came to stand behind his company to drape over and wrap his arms around his company in welcoming affection, taking an overwhelming faux interest in the simple task of fruit preparation.

“I doubt you would agree to have me anywhere near the stove.” The small chuckle from Francis was infectious and the comfortable grin they shared seemed to brighten the cold winter morning they had found themselves enjoying. It was the typical type of morning they shared every so often; one of the morning that resulted from sheepish agreements to stay the night before. The couple overall was a strange quirk of history itself– always somehow pegged together. They had known each other for so long- painstakingly long Arthur had claimed once – that they were accustomed to each other’s habits or everyday normalities resulting in easy moments; like how Francis had already left a mug of English breakfast tea, still warm, on the table and how Arthur had complied with the Frenchman’s insistence on storing coffee in the cupboards. As they both sat down (They parted from the silent cuddle sadly), balcony door open, with Arthur sipping his brew to seemingly sobering up from his tiredness (somehow also engrossed in the newspaper) Francis had found himself looking out over the balcony of the brit’s countryside estate. It was one of the quieter homes England owned, and while the views were pleasant enough (though not as pleasant as rural France of course) the cold winter air that had blanketed his cheeks accompanied with the lack of noise of the humdrum of city-life made him sigh in slight unprovoked boredom.

“It’s not that cold, love. Drink more coffee and maybe you won’t find things to be so dull.”

“You are sad about your roses, non?” Arthur’s eyes flicked up and his brows furrowed in a little confusion over the strange statement. It was the middle of winter and while –yes he WAS upset he could not see those pretty flowers bloom or bud, there was nothing he could do to stop mother nature from bringing in the Christmas season…he had resigned any token of peeved annoyance to this natural inconvenience.

“It’s just hauntingly sad to see your work disappear. Its course has been taken and it is gone, it will be back but…just not now.” Suddenly the Englishman had understood that the melancholic words that Francis spoke of were talking about something much more than just his garden outside.

“I…guess rightly so.” They turned to each other and picked at their breakfast. Idle chatter about their countries current affairs seemed insignificant, especially after Francis’ earlier poignant statement. It wasn’t usual that his boyfriend partner would openly speak of genuine sentiment, and it had put him off to watch France’s obvious deep reminiscing.

“Do you want to talk about it Francis?”

That’s how Arthur had found himself with his French lover in the archive and storage room of the British Museum. More specifically the storage room which was curated mostly from Arthur himself – trinkets and souvenirs he had kept over the centuries and had asked King George II back in 1753 if he could keep, in a private secret storeroom of antiquities for himself somewhere in the museum (The Museum original origins was Sir Hans Sloane’s own collection that he had ‘bequeathed to King George II FOR the nation’ technically meaning the museum was dedicated to England himself but he asked for permission out of politeness of course.).

His national museum was not only a tourist trap, but a legacy of Arthur himself, and while he loved to watch his citizens mull over history he knew he needed to bring Francis to his private collection, something only another nation would understand the importance of. Down in this quiet unknown-to-the-public display room, it seemed to be a different place altogether: an isolated showcase, a room where time seemed unsure of what itself was. There were renaissance paintings awkwardly hung beside majestic tapestries from 1066 to old medallions and shillings piled neatly on a pedestal mingling with the first pound coin from 1983.

The long-haired man had paused. Unsure of what to say as he held onto Arthur’s hand at their side. Before he could open his mouth to mention any word of value Arthur quickly hushed him and without a word lead Francis to another section of the room where a placard marked very simply put:

[ French Collection ]

The two had gone very far back – Lord, God knows they don’t even want to speak of their messy origins…especially the kerfuffle occurred between Normandy and the early Anglo-Saxons.

“I know we can both recall a lot of fights. A-and I don’t know about you but bloody hell you’ve put me through a lot. I suppose the Hundred Years’ War was really one of our worst…it was also a really big one in the beginning.” It was so very long ago, even before he became known as ‘Great Britain’ with his brother Scotland (It really puts into perspective of how short he has actually represented Northern Ireland as well as Scotland and England).

They both remembered clearly of the very cold nights of slammed doors and angry shouting over sovereignty of their early days, Kingdoms which had messy foundations. The royalty that had come and gone throughout the years, the constant babbling about who owned the throne was a past headache. They were both so young back then, But Arthur was more impressionable due to France’s tutelage – regardless that the ‘age’ gap wasn’t so far. So young for an adult’s world.

“Remember I had that stupid idea for my hair after you made fun of me. Then you helped cut it back to my usual style?” He murmured in a shy attempt to breed conversation. Arthur still cherished that memory even though his insecurity over his hair at that time was due to the Frenchman.

“We were so petty at times.”

“‘Were’?” Arthur quipped back humorously, stifling his laughter,

“ahah Allez savoir pourquoi Arthur!” They both smiled longingly towards the various artefacts until a specific one caught the Frenchman’s gaze: A polished Charleville Model 1754 French Musket without a bayonet, too clean looking to have seen a war in its time but upon closer inspection, the scratches on the barrel and the old metal signified its authenticity. Had England taken the time to restore this old thing? When had he even picked this up- surely not during their figh-

“During the Seven years’ war. I know. I picked it up from Matthew, he was adamant about giving it away but he had one of his own anyway. I have a Model 1777 from the time we…”

“Fought over family.” Arthur sported a sad smile at that, he had always believed all of his colonies were family but it was also difficult to forget Canada also belonged to France and with American independence he had watched Francis’ people throw so much away for revolution. Things had always been tough. Things were so intertwined in modern life, you could no longer turn your back on those around you. Besides, doing that to Francis would hurt both of them. Shyly, the shorter man moved closer and placed a hand on France’s shoulder. His eyes search for something he himself was not aware he was looking for, some sort of sign that Francis knew that they click. Within bad times, the good times and surely the bloody times – they just needed to work. More than ever before.

The man clad in green was not sure when he had closed his own seeking eyes, or when he had felt those soft lips upon his. Lulled into a pleasant exchange the two parted to breathe after a few glorious seconds. The fear and regret that France had harboured that morning seemed to be washed away in that very moment, the past had been written down already- the future shortly bringing new troubles that they could push through together. Without hesitation, the two happily sighed and embraced for a few more minutes…besides, what was life without a bit of trouble?

#hetalia #fruk #aph fruk #aph england #aph france #hetalia axis powers #Hetalia Fanfiction #fanfic #OneShots #prompts #FrUk-net Secret Santa 2017 #lastloveliestsmile

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