#bennet harrow

[vexic929]

Child in Time

Chapter 14

Warnings: none

Chapter 1: link

Previous chapter: link

The last place Barry wanted to be right now was work. There was enough horror to dwell on without-

"Harrow! West! Thawne! I need you three on the burning under the bridge in Lawrence Hills, where's Allen?" Captain Singh barked as he exited his office into the bullpen.

That.

Barry zipped down the stairs to meet the group in the doorway, pages fluttering on a nearby desk.

"Hey, heard my name," Barry said, leaning against the rail and trying to act like he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. He could be out looking for Eo, he could be helping Cisco figure out a way to find the Reverse Flash, he could be-

"Allen, you're with Harrow, that scene needs investigated yesterday."

Barry forced a smile and waved at Officer Harrow who looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. Harrow was already halfway out the precinct doors, his jaw set, posture straight-backed and inflexible like he'd ironed his bones into place.

Eddie mouthed good luck, Barr with a sympathetic wince as he fell into step beside Joe. Barry thought about protesting - he could make it there in the blink of an eye, faster than Harrow could even turn the key in the ignition - but unfortunately, Singh knew exactly two things about him: he didn't own a car and he had a historically awful relationship with punctuality.

So out to Harrow's cruiser he trudged.

The ride started off excruciatingly quiet. Harrow, apparently, wasn't the type to make small talk or turn on the radio. Barry tried anyway, desperate for something to fill the overthinking-and-panic-inducing silence before it swallowed him whole.

"So, uh...I'm Barry," he said, glancing over at Harrow whose gaze never left the road, his hands perfectly at 10 and 2. "You're Bennet, right?" Harrow nodded curtly and Barry took that as an encouraging sign. "Cool, cool...your friends call you Ben? Or Benny, maybe...?"

"Bennet. But you can refer to me as Officer Harrow."

Barry blinked, wondering how Harrow could possibly hate him already. "Right. Okay. Officer Harrow. Got it."

Harrow didn't respond and the silence returned with a vengeance. Barry tried not to fidget but his foot bounced anyway. He'd fought supervillains, why was this somehow worse?

After another block of heavy silence, Barry tried again.

"So, uh...you transferred from Midvale, right? I think I heard Singh mention that."

This time Harrow did glance at him - just a flicker of his eyes to the side - and then back to the road. "Correct."

"I've never been. Is it nice?"

"No."

The conversation died there.

By the time they pulled up to the bridge leading into Lawrence Hills, Barry felt like he'd aged a year. The cruiser rolled to a stop just beyond the barricade. Police tape fluttered in the breeze and the scorched underbelly of the bridge stood out like an oil stain against the concrete. No traffic above; the street had been closed off.

Barry exited almost before Harrow had put the car in park, grabbing his forensic kit and slipping under the yellow tape. Eddie waved him over.

"Hey, Barr. Just spoke with the witnesses. Get this: they both swear they saw a man burst into flames."

Barry furrowed his brow. "Self-immolation or spontaneous combustion? But the report said nobody was hurt."

Eddie nodded. "They said he burst into flames and then flew away."

Oh. Another meta case then. Dammit, Barry didn't want to have to split his focus between finding Eo and...whatever the hell this burning man was doing.

Barry nodded, adjusting the strap on his bag as he approached the scorched pavement. He knelt down, carefully snapping on a pair of blue latex gloves and examining the blackened asphalt. The damage wasn't widespread - just a contained area about four feet across, charred deeply and oddly uniform.

"There's no sign of an accelerant," Barry muttered to himself, his fingers brushing through soot that felt finer than it should.

Harrow stood a few feet away, arms folded, eyes sharp and unblinking. He cleared his throat pointedly. "You've determined that just by touching the pavement?"

Barry rolled his eyes before looking up at the rigid officer. "Usually when you have gasoline or kerosene, there are distinct splash patterns and residues. None of that's here. This was more contained."

Barry turned back to the ash, pulling out his sample collection kit and placing a small scoop into a glass jar before sealing it and replacing it in his bag. He should probably take it to S.T.A.R. Labs since they were dealing with a meta...but he could process the sample fine in his own lab, he was sure, and he didn't want to risk distracting everyone else. Eo was the priority.

[jennelikejennay]

I have been rereading Pride and Prejudice while continuing to suffer from griddlehark brainrot, so this happened

[zuppizup]

reading your bloodthirsty fic and I'm constantly thinking about how elves work in absolutes. Instead of trying to find comprises, or try to look at things a different way, they always choose the most extreme and cruel options. And that's with all the elves. Death, banishment, stay true to the mission, don't feel things, don't show emotions, don't allow change. If you break a rule, that's it no learning. Not trying to be kind. It's only a small number of elves that don't think that way. And they even do that to each other. I'm thinking about how the moonshadow elves so easily ghosted rayla, a teenager and I think about those moon cubs callum baby sat. And than I think about how the startouch elves instantly choice to kill leola. And how the elves didn't like that Terry saw him as a buck. And it's just all this is everywhere in elf culture. It's everywhere. It doesn't just affect humans they do it to each other if no one measures up to their impossible standards and it makes me sick and thinks about religious and cultural trauma in a way

To paraphrase the great Lizzie Bennet, I don’t think any culture in TDP deserves neither such praise nor such censure.

While we do see a lot of elves who operate in absolutes, we see humans doing the same. Similarly, we see elves who see things in shades of grey.

Ghosting is probably the most obvious way in which elves are shown to be quick to judge, but arc 2’s reveal of Leola’s fate shows that such actions are hardly restricted to Moonshadow elves. Karim is shown to be close minded in his opinions too. He is repeatedly given chances to face his own prejudices and reevaluate his actions and yet he refuses to contemplate the fact he might be wrong in his opinions on human/elf unity.

But even with Karim, we see him willing to deal with Kim’dael to achieve his goals. He’s not quite as squeaky clean as all his grand speeches would imply.

And then we see characters like the architect who refused to accept a cultural practice she didn’t understand. In the context of the show, there is confirmation of an after life, so her actions aren’t just that she doesn’t believe in a “superstition”, she could have realistically condemned that person’s soul forever.

Rayla is literally chased with pitch forks once she’s recognised as an elf in a human village.

Arc 1 Viren is also shown to see things in black and white. He cannot contemplate why Harrow would have an issue with using dark magic to evade death. Similarly, we see him essentially condemning the soldiers who refuse to join the Xadian invasion. While not as extreme as Ghosting, marking them as cowards and traitors is nonetheless designed to shame them.

Rayla, Janai and Terry are examples of elves who over came prejudice and co-exist happily with humans (to the point they are both in romantic relationships with humans… or well, were in Terry’s case 😬).

(As an aside, Terry does say that the other Earthbloods views him as a doe, but he knew he was a buck. He does not imply that he faced prejudice as a result of that. Astrid doesn’t seem to face prejudice either. Tellingly, the only prejudice we see in the show is “fantastic racism” (so no sexism, homophobia, transphobia). Word of God (if you subscribe to it), also says that Terry did not face transphobia in his society.)

Lujanne and Ibis are condescending towards Callum and his desire to do magic, but neither seem to have any issues talking to him about it. Lujanne in particular seems to be delighted to see him when he and Rayla return to the Moon Nexus.

The Celestial elves seemed to have absolutely no problem with Callum in any way. (They were obviously delighted to learn he was human, but that could have been self serving).

We see elves like Finnegrin who clearly doesn’t have issues with dark magic, showing that not all elves condemn the practice.

So, do some elves operate in absolutes?

Absolutely! (I chuckle at myself)

But so do some humans.

Which I think is good, actually. It shows that such ideas aren’t necessarily restricted to one particular group. There are members of all groups who operate in absolutes, just as they are members who see things are more nuanced.

Now, for Bloodthirsty, I absolutely leaned into the more rigid ideas we see from Sunfire elves, but that’s coz I’m in charge and I get to decide who’s a big meanie. 😉

The whole trial that Amaya and Viren had to go through was another extreme example of how some elven cultures operate.

I picked Sunfires as the antagonists in Bloodthirsty due to their use of purification rituals and how that factored into Callum and Rayla’s attempts to purify her. (I also wrote about Sunfire purification rituals in Purgatory, coz I think it’s cool).

Certainly Khessa was extremely prejudiced and arc 2 showed there were Sunfires willing to follow Karim and his direction when it came to Sunfire society, which, again, fit with the fanfic.

I’m currently writing a follow up to where we last left off in that verse (yes, I know I have a problem), so perhaps you’ll see some other people having issues with Bloodthirsty Rayllum, not just elves. 😏

[firthbetterorfirthworse]

Lost in Austen (2008) Finale

Darcy is engaged to Caroline. Lydia ran off with Bingley. Everyone is miserable. "You don't really do guilt, do you? You do whatever the hell you want, and afterwards call it principle." (damn Amanda, go off)

I don't know how to talk about this episode without giving EVERYTHING away, and I would rather everyone go watch this (in the US it's currently on Tubi which is a free service!)

Mr. Bennet takes Amanda to Hammersmith, which is where she lives, except in 1812 it's a rural community and not a borough in London.

Wickham shows up to help perpetuate her ruse and save the day (and honestly at this point I would have been fine if she got things back on track with Darcy and Elizabeth and ran away with him)

"Hear that sound? That's Jane Austen, spinning in her grave, like a cat in a tumble dryer" A lot of things happen, none of it like it should, including an injured Mr. Bennet...so she bursts through a door desperate to find Elizabeth - straight into the modern world. And DARCY comes after her

"Are my wits disordered by opium, what is this dreadful place?"

And let me tell you, the moment he apologizes and admits wrong and admits feelings? *fans self* "I have followed you to this infernal place because I would follow you anywhere. I would harrow hell to be with you."

They go and find Elizabeth, who by now looks like THIS

So she can come home and see her father. But the door doesn't want to open for Elizabeth, probably because she isn't meant to go back to that abomination of a timeline, but Amanda is able to open it and bring her through. Jane and Bingley have some whole MOMENTS

Jane is still married to Collins, remember, but when Bingley shows up to beg forgiveness for everything she tells him "Every year on this day we will pick a dog rose. it will be the only sign before god we were ever in love, except for this -" and then she kisses him (cries forever)

There's even a confrontation with Lady Catherine!

And somehow, someway, everything ends on the right track for these characters. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet reconcile, things go right for all of our lovers, and at the end we get smoooooochy kisses

just, everybody go and watch it okay I don't know why I waited so long this was a DELIGHT

[mssarahmorgan]

Book 22 of 2024: The Scandalous Confessions of Lydia Bennet, Witch by Melinda Taub

This was basically tailor-made for me. A P&P retelling where Lydia is a witch? And Kitty is a CAT?? And Wickham is an ancient demon but also hot??? AND Georgina Lambe from Sanditon is in this!! Sign me the fuck up, this was great, 10/10, no notes.

What to read next: The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow, for another historical fantasy that's just a delight from start to finish.

[darknesseddiem]

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As Arcadia High School diligently readies its senior students for an academic expedition to explore Romania's renowned museums, anticipation crackles in the air. Yet, amidst the buzz of excitement and preparation, Y/n finds herself haunted by a chilling nightmare that lingers like a specter in her mind, casting a shadow over the forthcoming journey.

Meanwhile, across town, the Hawkins police force grapples with a harrowing investigation—the savage and enigmatic murder of a young boy, a crime so brutal it sends shockwaves through the city's core. As detectives delve into the depths of darkness shrouding this heinous act, whispers of malevolent forces and sinister secrets echo through the streets, leaving the community gripped by fear and uncertainty.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: +18, heavy content, dark themes, volence, blood, child death, child torture, gore, witchcraft, disfigurement, murder, nightmares, Reader takes meds to help her sleep, cruelty, allusion to eating disorder.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4,9K

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (open): @ali-r3n @maedesculpaeusoubi @birdysaturne

As your gaze drifted beyond the classroom window, the gentle sway of leaves seemed to beckon you into a world far removed from the monotony of Mrs. Bennet's lecture. Her words, once a beacon of guidance, dissolved into an indistinct cacophony, overshadowed by the enigmatic maelstrom brewing within your troubled psyche.

Lost in the labyrinthine corridors of your mind, you found yourself ensnared by memories of the night prior—fragments of a haunting dream that had invaded your restless slumber like tendrils of darkness creeping into the corners of your consciousness.

It had been an eternity since such macabre visions tormented your sleep, ever since the fateful disappearance of your parents—an event veiled in obscurity that had cast you adrift in a sea of unanswered questions and whispered rumors. The memories of that night haunted you like ghostly apparitions, their specters lurking just beyond the veil of consciousness, waiting to pounce upon your unsuspecting mind.

Prescribed an arsenal of antidepressants and sedatives to assuage the relentless onslaught of nightmares, you had sought refuge in the solace of pharmaceutical oblivion, hoping to drown out the echoes of your past with the numbing embrace of chemically-induced tranquility.

But even the most potent medications could not silence the whispers of your subconscious, nor quell the restless yearning for answers that gnawed at your soul like a ravenous beast. And so, as you sat amidst the dull hum of the classroom, a sense of unease gripped you, the memories of the night prior clawing their way to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged, to be understood.

As the day unfurled its weary hours, a dense fog of uncertainty descended upon you, enveloping your senses like a leaden shroud. Within the mundane fabric of daily life lurked a disquieting sense of foreboding, blurring the lines between what was real and what existed only in the recesses of your troubled mind.

From the moment your eyes blinked open, a suffocating pall of dread hung heavy in the air, casting a long shadow over your every thought and action. It was a sensation that clung to you like a second skin, a haunting reminder of the gaping void left behind by the sudden disappearance of your parents—the day your world fractured irreparably.

Throughout the hours that followed, an unsettling presence loomed on the edge of your consciousness, a phantom specter that seemed to stalk your every movement with unyielding persistence. Its intangible grip tightened with each passing moment, weaving a tangled web of apprehension around your fragile psyche.

As daylight waned and the world bathed in the eerie glow of twilight, the tendrils of unease constricted ever tighter, wrapping around your soul like vipers poised to strike. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, each heartbeat echoing the ominous drumbeat of impending doom.

Were your fears merely the byproduct of a fractured mind, haunted by the ghosts of its past? Or was there a more sinister force at play, lurking in the shadows, waiting to ensnare you in its malevolent embrace? Only time would tell as you stood on the precipice of uncertainty, teetering on the edge of a darkness from which there might be no return.

With each fleeting thought, doubt gnawed at the fringes of your sanity, its whispered tendrils weaving a tapestry of uncertainty within the recesses of your troubled mind. Perhaps you were indeed teetering on the brink of madness, your senses distorted by the relentless trauma of your past. Or perhaps, as the therapist had suggested, your mind had erected formidable defenses against the horrors of your reality—a defense mechanism to shield you from the overwhelming weight of your own memories.

But as the shadows deepened and the night unfurled its ebony cloak, one thing remained certain: the inexplicable sense of being watched, the disconcerting feeling that eyes unseen bore witness to your every move. In the labyrinth of your mind, the line between reality and illusion blurred, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty where truth and fiction intertwined in a tantalizing dance of shadows and secrets. And as you grappled with the enigmatic forces that conspired against you, you couldn't shake the haunting suspicion that the darkest truths were yet to be revealed.

As the rhythmic din of exuberant voices reverberated off the classroom walls, you found yourself reluctantly torn from the labyrinth of your contemplations, abruptly thrust back into the bustling present by the jubilant commotion surrounding you. Tables vibrated beneath the force of pounding fists, jubilant exclamations pierced the air like shards of shattered glass, and the infectious energy of your peers permeated the atmosphere, suffusing the room with an electrifying pulse of excitement. How long had you been ensnared in the enigmatic recesses of your thoughts, oblivious to the jubilation unfolding before you?

"S-silence, please!" Mrs. Bennet's voice, a beacon of authority, cut through the tumult like a blade, commanding attention as she rapped her desk with a ruler.

As the uproar gradually subsided, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the soft shuffling of restless feet and the rustle of papers. All eyes turned expectantly toward the authoritative figure at the front of the classroom, Mrs. Bennet's solemn countenance casting a pall of solemnity over the room. With deliberate grace, she traversed the length of the room to stand before the imposing expanse of the blackboard, where she inscribed a single word in bold, commanding script: "RULES."

The chalk, now depleted of its purpose, returned to its designated holder with a hollow clatter, its echoes reverberating through the stillness of the room like a portentous omen. Mrs. Bennet, her posture rigid with resolve, turned to address the assembled students, her voice a solemn symphony of authority and expectation.

"Rules," she intoned, her words laden with the weight of significance. "Rules that shall delineate the boundaries between aspiration and stagnation, determination and defeat."

A ripple of apprehension swept through the room, the air thick with a sense of foreboding and anticipation. Undeterred by the murmurs of discontent that rippled through the room like the ghostly whispers of unseen phantoms, Mrs. Bennet pressed forward, her gaze piercing through the veil of uncertainty that hung heavy in the air.

"And so, the first decree," she proclaimed, her voice echoing with an unyielding resolve. "Only those who have ascended beyond the confines of mediocrity, those whose grades soar above the threshold of adequacy, shall be deemed worthy of passage on this journey."

The jock's frustration permeated the air like a tangible force, his exasperation evident in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. "Man, I hate the way she talks, like some sort of... I don't know," he grumbled, his tone tinged with irritation and disdain.

His companion, mirroring his sentiments, offered a terse nod of agreement. "Stupid bitch," he muttered, his voice a low growl of shared frustration.

A palpable commotion erupted in the wake of Mrs. Bennet's pronouncement, casting a veil of confusion over the classroom as you struggled to decipher the elusive topic of discussion.

"Silence!" The teacher's voice thundered with palpable frustration, commanding the attention of the unruly students.

"Second rule," she continued, her tone firm and unwavering despite the uproar, "those fortunate enough to be chosen shall be entrusted to the care and supervision of the school. Hence, they are obligated to adhere to the established guidelines and regulations, even upon arrival at our destination." Pausing briefly to gather her thoughts, she drew a deep breath before proceeding with her discourse. "And lastly, but by no means least: refrain from engaging in any behavior that may jeopardize our collective integrity. Violators risk immediate repatriation to Hawkins." With a final authoritative sweep of her gaze across the room, she concluded, "The list of selected students shall be posted on the main bulletin board tomorrow. That is all."

The piercing chime of the bell reverberated through the classroom, signaling the cessation of the lesson and prompting a flurry of movement as students scrambled to gather their belongings and vacate the premises.

"Don't forget to inform your parents or legal guardian about the upcoming trip!" Mrs. Bennet's admonition, delivered in a hushed tone, barely penetrated the rush of departing students.

You rose from your seat, methodically collecting your belongings and slinging your backpack over your shoulder before approaching the teacher's desk.

“Um...Mrs. Bennet, may I ask you a question?” Your voice, scarcely above a whisper, carried a note of uncertainty.

“Of course, dear!” Mrs. Bennet's kindly smile lent an air of reassurance to her response.

“I'm afraid I wasn't paying much attention, but where exactly is this trip taking us?” The admission of your inattention weighed heavily upon you, a pang of shame tugging at the corners of your conscience.

“We will be journeying to Romania, dear,” came the gentle reply, causing your blood to run cold and a shiver of unease to course down your spine.

“Oh...yes, thank you…” You offered a weak smile of gratitude before hastily exiting the room, the word "Romania" echoing ominously in your mind.

Romania? In Europe? The revelation sent a chill down your spine as you pondered the implications of this unexpected destination.

As you made your way through the bustling halls towards the cafeteria, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled through your mind like leaves caught in a tempest. Recollections of your class's recent selection to deliver an in-depth presentation on Romania and its rich history flitted through your consciousness, casting a faint glimmer of understanding upon the enigmatic decision to embark on this unexpected journey. Perhaps the school board had deemed the excursion a fitting complement to your studies, an opportunity to immerse yourselves in the culture and heritage you had diligently researched.

Yet, despite the logical rationale behind the trip and the ample resources at Arcadia's disposal, an unsettling sense of disquiet gnawed at the fringes of your consciousness. It was a feeling as elusive as mist, shrouded in ambiguity yet impossible to ignore—a silent whisper of unease that prickled at the back of your mind.

Was it the abruptness of the announcement, or the eerie coincidence of your class's recent academic focus? Or perhaps it was the inscrutable aura surrounding the destination itself, veiled in layers of mystery and intrigue. Whatever the reason, a foreboding sense of unease lingered in the air like a thick fog, refusing to dissipate despite your best efforts to dispel it.

With each step forward, the weight of uncertainty bore down upon you like an oppressive burden, casting a shadow over the otherwise mundane surroundings of the school corridors. And as you approached the cafeteria, the bustling chatter of your peers faded into the background, drowned out by the persistent echo of your own apprehension.

Something was undeniably amiss, though you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

As you entered the bustling cafeteria, the familiar sight of your friends, Robin and Steve, caught your eye, their animated discussion drawing you in like a moth to a flame. With a smile playing at your lips, you approached their table, the lively debate over the prowess of Rhea Ripley and Io Shirai serving as a backdrop to their camaraderie.

"Look, you don't understand anything about fighting, you only watch it because you like to see women," Steve retorted with an air of exasperation, his frustration evident in the tousled locks of his brown hair.

"Doesn't matter! Rhea is the best fighter and—" Robin's fervent defense was abruptly cut off as her gaze alighted upon your arrival, a warm smile spreading across her features.

"How's my little bee buzzing around today?" Robin's affectionate greeting enveloped you in a tight embrace, instantly flooding you with a sense of warmth and belonging amidst the bustling ambiance of the cafeteria.

You couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes at the endearing nickname, a remnant of childhood escapades that had evolved into an inseparable part of your identity. The moniker stemmed from a mischievous encounter with a beehive during your younger years—a venture that ended with a painful sting and a memorable trip to the hospital. Initially coined as a teasing jab by your friends, the nickname had since transformed into a cherished term of endearment, emblematic of the bond you shared with Robin and the rest of your inner circle.

"I'm alright, Robs," you replied softly, offering a small smile as you gently extricated yourself from her warm embrace.

Steve's question cut through the air with a hint of concern, his penetrating gaze triggering a twinge of guilt within you. "Did you eat something?" he inquired, his tone carrying a subtle note of accusation.

"Um, yeah, I did," you responded hesitantly, attempting to mask your discomfort with a faint smile as you noticed both Robin and Steve crossing their arms in unison, a silent testament to their shared concern.

Robin interjected, her voice a gentle blend of calm reassurance and genuine worry. "You know it's important to take care of yourself. We don't want a repeat of last time," she reminded you, her words tinged with a poignant reminder of past struggles.

Closing your eyes momentarily, you couldn't help but be transported back to that difficult period, the memory serving as a stark reminder of the delicate balance between health and neglect, and the profound significance of prioritizing self-care.

A subtle tension hung in the air, tangible yet unspoken, as you deftly navigated the delicate balance between reassurance and concealment, acutely aware of the worry etched upon your friends' faces. Each glance exchanged between you carried the weight of unspoken concerns, a silent acknowledgment of the struggles and scars hidden beneath the surface.

"I know, I know, but honestly, I'm fine. Promise," you offered with a bright grin, hoping to alleviate their concerns even as uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your own resolve.

Steve's protective instincts kicked into high gear, his expression shifting into what you affectionately referred to as "mom mode." "What about your meds? You're staying on top of that, right?" he pressed, his concern palpable in the furrow of his brow and the sharpness of his gaze.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you replied with a smirk, "Of course, Steve. I've got it all under control," the familiar banter between friends serving as a welcome respite from the weightier aspects of the conversation.

As Robin chuckled at the playful banter, you found yourself teetering on the edge of whether to broach the topic of your unsettling dream from the night before. Before you could reach a decision, however, Robin jumped in with a question of her own, effectively diverting the conversation.

"So, have you heard the news?" Robin's inquiry snapped you back to the present moment, her tone tinged with curiosity.

"And seriously, who hasn't heard about it, Buckley? But Romania? What the heck are we doing there?" Steve's incredulous gesture mirrored the bafflement echoing in your own thoughts, prompting a shared moment of bemusement among friends.

"Well, I don't think it's going to be some leisurely trip; it's probably more about enriching our curriculum," you murmured softly, casting a fleeting glance downwards as you contemplated the upcoming excursion.

Noticing your subdued demeanor, Steve's tone softened as he probed gently, "Hey, what's on your mind?"

"It's nothing, really. Just... had another one of those strange dreams," you admitted reluctantly, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders as you confided in your friends.

"Tell us about it," Robin urged, her eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and empathy, inviting you to share the burden of your unease.

With a deep breath, you began to recount the haunting details of your dream, your words painting a vivid picture of mystery and foreboding. As the narrative unfolded, the tight knot of apprehension in your chest gradually unraveled, replaced by a sense of catharsis and relief in the comforting presence of your closest companions.

In the depths of the dream, you found yourself wandering alone through a dark and mist-laden forest, the heavy fog shrouding your surroundings in an impenetrable veil. Above, the moon cast an eerie glow, illuminating the gnarled trees that swayed ominously in the chilling breeze, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers clawing at the night.

As you navigated the shadowy landscape, a sense of unease settled over you like a heavy cloak. It was then that you caught sight of a figure lurking behind a nearby tree, seemingly concealed by the very darkness itself. Before you could even muster a word, another presence emerged—a striking ginger-haired woman, towering before you like a sentinel of the night. Draped in a billowing cape that seemed to dance in the ethereal moonlight, her gaze was fixed upon the hidden figure with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

In a swift and hauntingly graceful motion, the ginger-haired woman darted towards the tree, her silhouette slicing through the dense mist like a specter in the night. With a predatory speed that sent shivers down your spine, she seized the hidden figure by the neck with a vice-like grip, her fingers coiling possessively around his throat.

Your heart lurched painfully in your chest as the reality of the situation unfolded before your eyes. It was a child, no older than ten, his tear-streaked face contorted in terror as he stared helplessly into the eyes of his captor.

In a gut-wrenching moment of horror, the ginger-haired woman pressed her lips to the boy's exposed neck, her fangs elongating into deadly points as they pierced his tender flesh. A strangled cry tore from the boy's throat, his screams reverberating through the eerie silence of the forest like a harrowing echo.

Frozen in terror, you could only watch in stunned disbelief as the woman drained the lifeblood from the child's veins, each desperate gulp sending a chill coursing down your spine. The sickening sight unfolded before you like a nightmare brought to life, leaving you paralyzed with dread as the darkness of the forest enveloped you in its suffocating embrace.

As the boy's limp form crumpled to the forest floor, a chilling transformation swept over the tall woman, her features contorting into a grotesque mask of cruelty. With a disturbing calmness, she descended upon the lifeless body, her movements devoid of remorse or humanity.

With chilling precision, she began to snap the boy's fragile bones, each sickening crack echoing through the stillness of the forest like a macabre symphony of horror. With merciless brutality, she twisted his limbs into grotesque angles, her actions a twisted mockery of tenderness and care.

The sickening sound of bones breaking reverberated through the air, drowning out your desperate cries for mercy. With each agonizing snap, the boy's form contorted under the weight of her relentless assault, his once-fragile body now a twisted canvas of pain and suffering.

Your screams tore from your throat in a raw torrent of anguish, your voice a futile plea for the mercy that would never come. But your cries were lost amidst the cruel cacophony of violence, swallowed by the darkness of the forest and the merciless hands of his assailant.

In the cruel grip of terror, you could only watch helplessly as the boy's fate was sealed by the cruel hands of his assailant, his innocence shattered beneath the weight of her unfathomable cruelty.

In a moment of chilling clarity, the woman's dark gaze pierced through the shadows of the forest, locking onto you with an unsettling intensity. A twisted smile danced upon her lips, a sinister curve that seemed to mock the very fabric of your existence. With an accusatory gesture, she pointed towards the lifeless body at her feet, her voice dripping with venomous accusation.

"Look what you made me do..." Her words hung in the air like a sinister taunt, each syllable laden with malice and contempt. The weight of her accusation bore down upon you like a leaden weight, sending a shiver of terror coursing down your spine as you recoiled in horror.

With a sudden jolt, you snapped awake, your heart pounding in your chest like a thunderous drumbeat. Drenched in a cold sweat, you lay frozen in the darkness, the lingering sensation of dread coiling in the pit of your stomach like a serpent poised to strike. The nightmarish vision that had haunted your sleep refused to release its grip, its tendrils of fear winding around your consciousness with relentless tenacity as you struggled to shake off its suffocating embrace.

The two of them stood frozen in the aftermath of your harrowing account, their faces contorted with a mixture of horror, fear, and disbelief. Steve's voice quivered with concern as he broke the heavy silence, his words laden with genuine worry.

"Oh my God, this... This is horrific. You shouldn't be having these kinds of dreams again, it's like a nightmare!" His voice carried a tremor of unease, reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"I know, but the..." you began, your words trailing off as another voice cut through the tension, interrupting your attempt to explain.

"Y/n... Have you been messing with that stuff again?" Robin's expression was grave, her gaze probing as she referenced the dark history tied to the old diaries of your great-grandmother.

The mention of "that stuff" sent a chill down your spine, evoking memories of the ancient diaries that had once belonged to your great-grandmother—an enigmatic figure shrouded in tales of witchcraft and tragedy. The mere mention of those forbidden tomes dredged up a host of unsettling memories, stirring the murky depths of your family's hidden past.

"What? No! It's all been stored and locked away in the attic since... since my parents disappeared," you explained in a rush, the words tumbling out in a mixture of denial and frustration as you sought to reassure your friends.

Relief washed over Steve and Robin's faces, their expressions softening as the weight of suspicion lifted from their shoulders. Yet, despite their reassurance, a lingering unease lingered in the back of your mind, a nagging sense that there was more to your unsettling dreams than met the eye.

Steve, ever the master of lightening the mood, broke the tense silence with a grin. "Know what sounds like the perfect antidote to our nightmare-induced stress?" he asked, his voice infused with a hint of excitement. "Let's shift gears and head to my place. We'll dive into a marathon of movies, raid the junk food stash, and engage in some lighthearted banter."

"Count me in for the movie marathon and junk food fest!" Robin exclaimed eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious as she swiftly gathered her belongings and trailed after Harrington with a bounce in her step.

"Sure, sounds like just what we need," you agreed with a half-hearted smile, your thoughts still weighed down by the unsettling visions that plagued your sleep.

As your friends exited the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts, the lingering sense of disquiet intensified. Despite the facade of normalcy and the promise of distraction, a nagging feeling persisted—a whispered reminder of the deeper mysteries that lurked beneath the surface, waiting to be unraveled.

Meanwhile, across town, the tranquil facade of Hawkins was shattered by the brutal aftermath of a crime, sending shockwaves rippling through the community. Oblivious to the ominous shadows that loomed on the horizon, the police department and residents found themselves thrust into a harrowing ordeal.

Police cruisers dotted the perimeter of the forest, their flashing lights piercing through the darkness like beacons of distress. Amidst the dense canopy of trees, yellow crime scene tape crisscrossed between the trunks, marking off the area like a sinister web woven by unseen hands. Reporters and news vans swarmed at the edges of the containment barrier, their clamor echoing through the stillness of the forest as they vied for a glimpse of the unfolding tragedy and hungered for a sensational scoop.

At the heart of the chaos stood Police Chief Jim Hopper, his rugged features etched with a mixture of shock and apprehension. This was undoubtedly one of the most chilling crimes to have ever befallen the city, and the weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon him. With every passing moment, the mystery deepened, casting a pall of uncertainty over the once-peaceful town of Hawkins.

"Sam Prescot, age 8, last seen taking out the trash last night," one of the officers reported grimly, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air like a leaden weight.

The man nodded gravely, his tired eyes fixed on the scene before him as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips, the bitter liquid offering little solace amidst the unfolding tragedy. An investigator approached, his expression grave as he delivered a somber report on the grim tableau that lay before them.

"According to reports, the boy was last seen taking out the trash, but none of the neighbors witnessed any commotion or unusual noise," the investigator explained, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and frustration as he led the sheriff towards the boy's lifeless form.

"Some residents mentioned hearing the screams and cries of a child in the vicinity, but none dared to investigate," he continued, his words a sobering reminder of the community's collective fear and reluctance to intervene. The two men came to a halt a few feet from where the boy lay, their hearts heavy with the weight of the unspeakable tragedy that had befallen young Sam Prescot.

As Chief Hopper beheld the harrowing sight before him, a sickening feeling gripped his stomach like a vice, his heart heavy with grief and anger at the senseless tragedy that had befallen young Sam Prescot.

Sam's once-vibrant form lay twisted amidst the shadowy undergrowth, a grotesque tableau of suffering etched upon his contorted features. His limbs, once full of youthful energy, were now bent at unnatural angles, bones jutting out through torn flesh like jagged shards of agony. Wide-eyed in terror, his mouth hung open in a silent scream, a grim rictus of horror frozen upon his pale face—a haunting testament to the unimaginable pain and fear he had endured in his final moments.

Chief Hopper clenched his jaw tightly, his fists trembling with a mixture of sorrow and righteous fury. This was not just a crime scene; it was a desecration of innocence, a betrayal of the very fabric of humanity.

Chief Hopper's heart plummeted as he beheld the gruesome sight before him, his breath catching in his throat at the savage evidence of unspeakable violence inflicted upon young Sam Prescot.

Prescot's once-whole torso now bore the cruel marks of brutality, a gaping wound that cleaved him from neck to pelvis, his shattered ribs protruding like jagged teeth from the torn flesh. The very core of his being lay exposed, his innards strewn about in a macabre display of carnage—a tangled mass of torn flesh and viscera, intermingled with the shattered remnants of vital organs that had once sustained the vibrant life of a young boy.

Yet, amidst the horror and devastation, it was the savage mutilation of the boy's genitalia that elicited a guttural gasp of horror from the seasoned lawman. In a cruel and depraved act of barbarity, the innocence of youth had been violently ripped away, leaving behind a gaping void of despair and revulsion—a desecration of innocence that shook Chief Hopper to his core and ignited a blazing fury within his soul.

As Chief Hopper recoiled in shock, a chilling realization settled over him like a shroud of darkness: this was no ordinary crime scene. It was a stark testament to the depths of human depravity, a grim reminder of the darkness that lurked within the shadows, waiting to consume the innocent and the unsuspecting. And as he stood amidst the twisted wreckage of a young life torn asunder, Chief Hopper knew that this was only the beginning of a nightmare that would haunt him for years to come.

"Sweet Jesus…"

The investigator's voice quivered as he examined Sam's lifeless form. The boy's legs contorted into a twisted "W" shape, the bones crushed so brutally that fragments protruded from his mangled toes, twisted at grotesque angles. Each new detail uncovered seemed to deepen the horror of the scene, adding another layer to the incomprehensible brutality inflicted upon the young victim.

Chief Hopper's jaw clenched tightly, his fists balling at his sides as a wave of revulsion and fury surged through him. This was not just a crime—it was an atrocity, a vile assault on everything decent and good in the world.

"We're still in the dark about what could've done this. Could it have been some kind of animal attack?" The investigator pondered aloud, his gaze fixed on the grim tableau before him.

"Not even the fiercest beast would inflict such brutality," Chief Hopper replied, his tone tinged with a grim certainty born of years of experience. "Cover the body and ensure no one stumbles upon this scene until we have answers."

As Hopper turned to depart, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with an instinctual warning. It was as if unseen eyes were watching his every move, the oppressive weight of the forest bearing down upon him with an almost tangible presence.

Little did he know, perched high atop a nearby tree, a mysterious figure observed his every action with keen interest, its presence cloaked in shadow as it remained concealed from sight. With a silent and calculating gaze, it watched as Chief Hopper made his way through the underbrush, a harbinger of unseen dangers yet to come.

[specificpollsaboutbooks]

Submissions for rewritings :

Little Thieves (Margaret Owen)

Sirena (Donna Jo Napoli)

Ella Enchanted (Gail Carson Levine)

After the Forest (Kell Woods)

The True Story of the Three Little Pigs (Jon Scieszka)

Spinning Silver (Naomi Novik)

Blackout | All Clear (Connie Willis)

The Great Gatsby Undead (Kristen Briggs)

Fire and Hemlock (Diana Wynne Jones)

Eight Days of Luke ( Diana Wynne Jones)

Iron Widow (Xiran Jay Zhao)

The Beast's Heart (Leife Shallcross)

The Goose Girl (Shannon Hale)

Razorhurst (Justine Larbalestier)

Angel Mage (Garth Nix)

Frogkisser (Garth Nix)

Rilla of Ingleside (L.M. Montgomery)

The Once and Future King (T.H. White)

The Secret Diary of Lizzie Bennet (Bernie Su and Kate Rorick)

The Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet (Kate Rorick)

The Goddess of the River (Vaishnavi Patel)

The Lunar Chronicles (Marissa Meyer)

So Many Beginnings (Bethany C. Morrow)

The Radiant Emperor duology (Shelley Parker-Chan)

Beauty (Robin McKinley)

In Cold Blood (Truman Capote)

The Grandest Bookshop in the World (Amelia Mellor)

Circe (Madeline Miller)

Kaikeyi (Vaishnavi Patel)

The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (Terry Pratchett)

The Priory of the Orange Tree (Samantha Shannon)

Island of the Blue Dolphins (Scott O'Dell)

Season 2 :

Richard III (William Shakespeare)

Thomas the Rhymer (Ellen Kushner)

Klaus (Grant Morrisson)

Briar (Christopher Cantwell)

Mr. Darcy's Diary (Amanda Grange)

A Man Among Ye (Craig Cermak)

The Daughter of the Doctor Moreau (Silvia Moreno-Garcia)

Once & Future (Kieron Gillen)

The Looking Glass Wars (Frank Beddor)

The Fractured Fables Duology (Alix E. Harrow)

Heartless (Marissa Meyer)

Carmilla & Laura (S. D. Simper)

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Good afternoon, my bookish bats. I hope you're bundled up with a fur baby, hot bev, and good book as you ward off this (lovely) chilly weather. No TBR is complete without a few young adult novels, and there are plenty coming out this month! Here are a few YA releases to consider adding to your shelves this October.

✨ All These Sunken Souls (Anthology) ✨ The Forest Demands Its Due by Kosko Jackson ✨ Love in Winder Wonderland by Abiola Bellow ✨ Sinner's Isle by Angela Montoya ✨ Beholder by Ryan La Sala ✨ Catfish Rolling by Clara Kumagai ✨ The Scarlet Alchemist by Kylie Lee Baker ✨ Flower and Thron by Rati Mehrotra ✨ The Misfit and His Dashing Devil by MN Bennet ✨ A Bright Heart by Kate Chenli ✨ Starling House by Alix E. Harrow ✨ Curious Tides by Pascale Lacelle ✨ A Curse for True Love by Stephanie Garber ✨ Sword Catcher by Cassandra Clare ✨ Bittersweet in the Hollow by Kate Pearsall

✨ Wrath Becomes Her by Aden Polydoros ✨ What the River Knows by Isabel Ibanez ✨ Night of the Witch by Sarah Raasch and Beth Revis ✨ The Spells We Cast by Jason June ✨ The Fall of Whit Rivera by Crystal Maldonado ✨ All That Consumes Us by Erica Waters ✨ Before the Devil Knows You're Here by Autumn Krause ✨ Thin Air by Kellie M. Parker ✨ If You'll Have Me by Eunnie ✨ The Space Between Here & Now by Sarah Suk ✨ I Loved You in Another Life by David Arnold ✨ Sleepless in Dubai by Sajni Patel ✨ The Blood Years by Elana K. Arnold ✨ Brooms by Jasmine Walls ✨ Kween by Vichet Chum

[itsdeenlee]

2025 Reading List

I’ve been a lot better about reading recently - actually, it’s getting out of hand - but I wanted to share. I’ve also decided to start posting at least quick reviews here too moving forward.

You can also find me on StoryGraph here!

Reading Goals for 2025:

Finish 50 books (67/50) - ✅

Re-read the Harry Potter series (7/7) - ✅

Read the Throne of Glass series (4/8)

Read the Empyrean Series (0/3)

2025 Reads:

Under Loch and Key by Lana Ferguson - 3.75 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone - 4.5 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets- 4.5 ⭐️

The Perfect Marriage by Jeneva Rose - 2.5 ⭐️

What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding by Kristen Newman - DNF

Throne of Glass by Sara J. Mass - 4.75 ⭐️

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told: An Oral History by Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman - 4.0 ⭐️

Superzelda: The Graphic Life of Zelda Fitzgerald by Tiziana Lo Porto - 4.5 ⭐️

This Summer Will Be Different by Carley Fortune - 1.25 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - 4.5 ⭐️

Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross - 3.0 ⭐️

Pearl: A Graphic Novel by Sherri L. Smith - 4.75 ⭐️

Cat + Gamer, Vol. 6 by Wataru Nadatani - 4.25 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - 4.25 ⭐️

They Called Us Exceptional by Prachi Gupta - 5.0 ⭐️

Heartstopper: Volume 1 by Alice Oseman - 4.5 ⭐️

Heartstopper: Volume 2 by Alice Oseman - 4.5 ⭐️

Heartstopper: Volume 3 by Alice Oseman - 4.5 ⭐️

Ruthless Vows by Rebecca Ross - 3.25 ⭐️

Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey - 3.0 ⭐️

Heartstopper: Volume 4 by Alice Oseman - 4.5 ⭐️

Heartstopper: Volume 5 by Alice Oseman - 4.5 ⭐️

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers - 5.0 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - 4.0⭐️

The Mothers by Brit Bennet - DNF

The Woman in Me by Britney Spears - 4.75 ⭐️

Brief Answers to the Big Questions by Stephen Hawking - 3.5 ⭐️

The Office: The Untold Story of the Greatest Sitcom of the 2000s: An Oral History by Andy Greene - 4.5 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - 5.0 ⭐️

This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. the Climate by Naomi Klein - 4.25 ⭐️

Funny Story by Emily Henry - 3.5 ⭐️

The Salt Path by Raynor Winn - 5.0 ⭐️

Lightning in Her Hands by Raquel Vasquez Gilliland - 2.0 ⭐️

Maybe in Another Life by Taylor Jenkins Reid - 4.0 ⭐️

On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder - 5.0 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - 4.75 ⭐️

Untamed by Glennan Doyle - DNF

Haunted Ever After by Jen DeLuca - 3.5 ⭐️

Cat + Gamer, Vol. 7 by Wataru Nadatani - 3.5 ⭐️

It’s Not Hysteria: Everything You Need to Know About Your Reproductive Health (But We’re Never Told) by Karen Tang MD, MPH - 5.0 ⭐️

The Paris Novel by Ruth Reichl - 4.75 ⭐️

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - 2.25 ⭐️

Between the World and Me - 5.0 ⭐️

Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas - 4.5 ⭐️

The Art Thief by Michael Finkel - 4.75 ⭐️

Homie by Danez Smith - 4.5 ⭐️

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari - 4.75 ⭐️

Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton - 3.5 ⭐️

A Novel Love Story by Ashley Poston - 4.0 ⭐️

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern - 4.0 ⭐️

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow - 3.75 ⭐️

Love and Other Conspiracies by Mallory Marlowe - 4.25 ⭐️

What You Are Getting Wrong about Appalachia by Elizabeth Catte - 5.0 ⭐️

Once More Upon a Time by Roshani Chokshi - 2.5 ⭐️

No Is Not Enough: Resisting Trump’s Shock Politics and Winning the World We Need by Naomi Klein - 4.0 ⭐️

Reincarnation Blues by Michael Poore - 4.75 ⭐️

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers - 5.0 ⭐️

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel - 3.75 ⭐️

Raiders of the Lost Heart by Jo Segura - 3.0 ⭐️

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins - 3.75 ⭐️

Wish I Were Here by Melissa Wiesner - DNF

The Assassin’s Blade by Sarah J. Maas - 4.5 ⭐️

Take the Leap by Andrea Nourse - 2.5 ⭐️

Offshore: Stealth Wealth and the New Colonialism by Brooke Harrington - 3.75 ⭐️

The Pumpkin Spice Café by Laurie Gilmore - 2.75 ⭐️

Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood - DNF

Heir of Fire by Sarah J. Maas - 5.0 ⭐️

The Most Wonderful Crime of the Year by Ally Carter - 4.0 ⭐️

Silver Elite by Dani Francis - 1.75 ⭐️

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield - 3.0 ⭐️

Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home by Nando Parrado - 4.0 ⭐️

Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins - 4.75 ⭐️

[no-literally]

Faves of 2024: Books & Movies

Books:

Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud - nonfiction, graphic novel

Raw Dog by Jamie Loftus - travelogue, food history

White Teeth by Zadie Smith - literary social drama

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen - graphic novel, YA

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot - biography, medical history

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston by Esme Symes-Smith - fantasy, middle-grade

Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb - memoir, metal health

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow - gothic fantasy

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo - dark academia, fantasy, thriller

Adventures with Claudie by Brit Bennet - american girl, historical fiction, middle grade

How the Word is Passed by Clint Smith - travelogue, history

Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall - romance, historical fiction

Bel Canto by Ann Pachett - literary

Movies:

Roman Holiday (re-watch) - rom-com, classic

Will and Harper - documentary

Wicked: Part 1 - fantasy, musical

[bennetsbonnet]

Hey, no need to apologise for being so passionate!! I can see you care as deeply as me and I appreciate that immensely. To agree with everyone 100% of the time is not only impossible but it would make the world a very boring place indeed. Thanks for taking the time to add so much to your reblog, I really enjoyed reading it!

I think the core of our respective opinions aren't too far apart, but I didn't word my post perhaps well enough or go into sufficient detail and include the level of nuance that you did. My complaint is more with what the adaptations are putting onto Jane Austen and the era in which she lived rather than simply drawing from the text. My post was mainly about the frustration that the consequences of such scenes are that I think they try to increase the romance when, to me, it doesn't need any help!

I have a gripe with these scenes because I can't quite imagine Elizabeth saying such words. I also think they water down the pressure that the vast majority of women (though not necessarily Elizabeth, despite her irresponsible father) were under, women who needed to marry as they were so dependent on men. The thought of men deciding that women were legally property and not people for centuries and then later seeing men write adaptations of a novel (written by a woman!) that make it seem as though every woman back then was searching for the perfect man to complete her life is just.... eughhhhh. When, as you rightly say, Jane Austen's life indicates that there was another option. But not all women would be so fortunate to have so many brothers who could provide for them, nor earn their own income from writing.

I feel like these scenes are there to hit us over the head with how much Elizabeth must truly have loved Darcy to marry him, and how much she disliked Mr Collins, when the text does that perfectly well all by itself. Also, in the 1995 series, Elizabeth says beggars cannot be choosers which, she might just be teasing but... as if they Bennets would ever be anything close to beggars !!!! As you say, any unmarried sisters would have seen their social status slip, but they would have been far from destitute. The industrial revolution created truly harrowing living conditions, with some cities seeing life expectancy of only the mid twenties. Awful to think about.

Unrealistic was probably the wrong word for me to use. Unlikely, perhaps? I'm sure even if a lot of women felt that true love, plus respect and practicality formed the ideal foundation for marriage, how many of them actually found that was questionable, even if they perhaps believed they had found a good man. Though I don't think that all women were desperately marrying to avoid spinsterhood, but societal and familial pressure can be a powerful thing, and far less women actually had the means and, dare I say, guts? to end up unmarried. I don't say that in a judgmental way, I don't think any of them were weak but that was the reality of the time they lived in. To have that uncertainty that came with remaining unmarried was incredibly brave.

Also, when I said expected, I didn't mean that all women absolutely expected to find a husband capable of providing for them (I think they were more realistic than that), but that all women were expected to find a husband so that they would not be a burden on their male relatives. Marriage was the default life path, there was far less freedom to choose what to do, even though it might have been more difficult to find a husband of a suitable class—given external forces such as the Napoleonic Wars—which diminished the marriage pool, they were still expected to seek husbands. It was why they were educated and encouraged to grow 'accomplished.' Even early feminist texts from this period, such as Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindication of the Rights of Woman only argued for women's education in terms of making them better mothers and wives.

I agree that there were actually a lot of marriages based purely upon love, perhaps more than we think with our modern beliefs of what life was like back then. Elizabeth was far from stupid to wish for that and she probably had the Gardiners to look up to as an ideal marriage (and her own parents as an example of what to avoid!) I think every woman would have seen examples of good and bad marriages, just as we do today. Though we might think marriages back then were far more arranged than they really were, that ladies didn't have much agency, when actually the woman was first proposed to before the prospective husband sought permission from her father. The Regency era, too, was a far more sexually free time than the Victorians who followed, but women didn't really have a choice in whether to get married, you know? They couldn't (with some exceptions such as authors for example, though even they were constrained) pursue a profession or attend university. And if they decided not to marry, the danger that they could end up like Miss Bates from Emma which is quite a precarious position to be in and was far more likely than being a Lady Catherine.

I think Elizabeth would still be hopeful of making a good marriage given her age and also that she hadn't travelled much. But obviously that didn't mean she was desperately eyeing up every man who came into Meryton as a potential husband to help her escape her situation. She was, I think, waiting for someone she respected and could truly love. But I also think we can't say for certainty that she might not have changed her views as she grew older. I do think if she didn't find anyone to esteem, she would have ended up alone. I certainly wouldn't argue that she felt compelled to marry. Just that twenty year old Elizabeth couldn't honestly decide that she wouldn't marry someone she was good friends with and could perhaps love in time, especially if Mr Bennet died in the intervening time and she felt the vulnerability of her situation.

I don't think she'd turn into a Charlotte, she'd do everything in her power not to end up in that situation and find someone more respectable than Mr Collins. I see her, if she didn't marry Darcy, as moving in with the Gardiners and helping with their children, perhaps teaching them informally. She'd probably be quite happy with that life, but perhaps always a little disappointed that she didn't find the one and maybe, with the removal from the situation of a few years, even kicking herself for not accepting either of the proposals because of her precarious position and being dependent on others. But then I do think she'd quickly get over herself and imagine what Charlotte is up to now and prefer to take a chance on Mr Gardiner's health than have ended up as Mrs Collins...

Elizabeth is not Jane Austen, after all. Yes, she put a lot of herself and her own views into her novels, but they were in some ways a form of escapism, I think. I do wonder if she ever felt that disappointment of not finding a husband, not because she needed a man to complete her at all, but because marriage was such an expectation for women at the time. I often think of the marriage register entries Jane Austen made as a girl that included names she went on to use for many of her heroes!

I can't speak for her, nor would I want to, especially since we know so little about her, really. Nor do I pity her. She was her own person and I like to think that she was happy with how her life turned out. It's clear from her writing what Jane Austen believed formed the basis of a successful marriage, and I do believe that her novels reflected the culture at the time and were far from radical depictions of love and marriage.

But there was still tremendous pressure exerted on women by society to marry and it frustrates me when that is overlooked by adaptations, for the sake of furthering the romantic elements of a story which is already satisfying enough as it was!

Adaptations of novels by their very nature are always going to differ from the source material but I find it interesting precisely how they do.

For instance, I find it curious that both the 1995 and 2005 adaptations of Pride and Prejudice feature scenes where Elizabeth declares she will only marry for love, because not only is such a quote nowhere to be found in the novel, I also find such a sentiment unrealistic for a Regency lady.

As stated in Chapter 22,

'[Marriage] was the only provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want.'

All women knew they would be expected to find a husband to provide for them, given that they weren't... you know... classed as people in their own right by law. Especially the Bennets, who lack substantial dowries and know as soon as Mr Bennet dies, any unmarried sisters will be entirely dependent on their male relatives, which isn't a secure position.

Of course, it wouldn't be unheard of for a woman to wish for a husband she could respect and who respected her in turn. But she's not an idiot! I think Elizabeth is astute enough to realise that a love match would be a bonus rather than an expectation for her marriage. She doesn't quite sink to the depths of pessimism of Charlotte in asking only for a comfortable home, and I think Elizabeth would still expect a partner to respect her (hence why she refuses Mr Collins and Mr Darcy at his first time of asking) but I don't see her as a hopeless romantic. Not Elizabeth, who voiced her increasing dissatisfaction with the world and the people who inhabit it.

I wonder if these adaptations included such a line because they find the idea that in Mr Darcy, Elizabeth found the true love that she was never expecting to find to be the most romantic idea of all. Personally, I think that not expecting to marry for true love but finding it anyway, especially in the man she least expected, is far more romantic.

These scenes have long frustrated me because I think they fundamentally underestimate the pragmatism of women at the time and make Elizabeth and Mr Darcy's union a little less satisfying! She loved him in the end, yes, but even if they failed to overcome their respective shortcomings and somehow failed to end up together, I hardly think that Elizabeth would have turned into an old maid, sitting at Longbourn and desperately waiting for a true love that would never come...

[vexic929]

Arrowverse OC Ben (he/him)

Full Name: Bennet Harrow Alias: Ben Gender: Cisgender man (he/him) Orientation: Gay Age: 36

Nationality: American Religion: Atheist Western Zodiac: Virgo Eastern Zodiac: Horse Element: Earth Birth Stone: Sapphire Blood-type: B- Personality Type: ISTJ

Disabilities: none

Eye color: Blue Natural Hair Color: Blond Natural Hair Type: 1B Skin Color: Pale with neutral undertones Height: 6 feet, 2 inches (188 cm) Weight: 220 lbs (100 kg) Appearance: Built like a linebacker with a sharp jaw under a permanent scruff and hair kept short, he practically lives in his uniform.

Personality: Guarded, loyal, rigid, observant

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Backstory: Transferred from Midvale PD after an internal scandal, though no one’s quite sure what exactly happened. Came to Central City with nothing but a duffel bag. A loner by choice with no known family - at least no one he keeps in contact with.

Faceclaim: Alexander Ludwig

[thefabulousronettes]

1964 UK tour programme at the Granada Harrow in January 1964 with the Rolling Stones, the Ronettes, Dave Berry, and Marty Wilde.

[namesetc]

hi! do you know any names that are friend-like? I just want my name to give off ":]" vibes, y'know? Sorry if that's too vague or confusing haha. If it is, could I have some names similar to Beckett? And could I be "🕊🍋" anon? :] thanks! and ur pronouns are rad btw.

Friendly vibes and similar to Beckett, I'll see what i can do!

and Yes you may!

thank you! /g

---

Archie

Ainsley/Ansley

Alex

Alexi/Alexie/Alexei

Alexis/Alexus/Alexys

Alexia

Alexa

Arden

Aster

Avery/Averie

Basil/Basel

Bennett/Benet/Bennet/Benett/Bennette/Benette/Benete/Bennete

Bonnet/Bonet/Bonett/Bonnett/Bonnette/Bonette

Benoit

Becker/Backer

Birkett/Burkett

Carli/Carly/Carley

Colton/Colten

Charlot/Chartlott/Charlotte

Charlie/Charly/Charli/Charlee

Charlene/Charline

Darcy

Dalia/Dahlia

Ellery

Emory/Emery

Emmet

Everette/Everett

Estell/Estella/Estelle/Estel/Estela

Finn

Flynn

Harlow/Harllow

Halllow

Harow/Harrow

Janett/Janet/Jannet/Jannette/Jannett/Janat/Jannat

Janna/Jenna/Jannah/Janah

Jonah/Joana/Joanna

Lea/Leah/Lia

Leana/Leanna

Lilth

Lilly/Lily

Milo

Maisie/Mazie/Maizie/Masie/Masey

Quin/Quinn/Quynh

Ryley/Rylee/Rylie/Ryle

Willow

Willa/Willah

Wyatt

[oldhollywoodfilms]

Heads up, Jane Austen fans! This Friday night, TCM is airing films based on the beloved author's works, starting with director Ang Lee's Oscar-winning version of Sense and Sensibility (1995) starring Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, Hugh Grant, and Alan Rickman at 8 pm ET. Sense and Sensibility is followed by our very favorite Austen movie, Persuasion (1995) at 10:30 pm ET. Finally, there's the delightful 1940 version of Pride and Prejudice at 12:30 am ET, which stars Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier as Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.

There's also lots to like for old Hollywood fans this week. Here's the rest of our picks.

1. The Red Badge of Courage (1951) at 6:30 pm ET/3:30 pm PT Monday, May 31: The annual Memorial Day marathon wraps up with a wonderful day of films that includes this under-rated Civil War drama from director John Huston about a young soldier's harrowing first experience of battle. Monday's primetime lineup is also excellent. The WWII combat film Battleground (1949) is airing at 8 pm ET and Clark Gable and Burt Lancaster play clashing submarine officers in Run Silent, Run Deep (1958) at 10:15 pm ET.

2. The Band Wagon (1953) at 8 pm ET/5 pm PT Tuesday, June 1: Dancing queen Cyd Charisse is the star of the month. TCM will feature her films each Tuesday in June starting with this backstager that features Charisse and Fred Astaire performing "The Girl Hunt Ballet."

3. The Music Box (1932) at 9:45 pm ET/6:45 pm PT Wednesday June 2: If you could use a midweek laugh (and who couldn't these days), tune in for this Oscar-winning short film about two bumbling handymen (Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy) who try and try again to get a piano up a steep hill.

4. Possessed (1947) at midnight ET/9 pm PT Saturday night/Sunday morning. This week's Noir Alley selection is a gripping psychological thriller about a woman (Joan Crawford) who slowly loses her grip on reality after the re-appearance of a former flame (Van Heflin). Joan is excellent in this film, proving why she was one of the great screen actors of the 20th century. Possessed will have an encore presentation at 10 am ET Sunday.

#TCM #TCMParty #MemorialDay #starofthemonth #NoirAlley #filmnoir

[zuppizup]

May I also add..

Dragon Prince/Pride and Prejudice AU

Runaan is clearly Lady Catherine De Burgh, right?