this time around’s no different, i’ve played with chance like you. i’ve loved to toy with fate, but, oh, i didn’t have a clue—
THAT I WOULD LOSE! oh, i would LOSE! between my left and right, one day i’d have to choose! “you’re not like me, i’m not like you, i’m not who these things happen to!”
I think we should write unnecessary sequels to public-domain classics.
I wanna read Dracula 2: Sherlock Holmes and the Curse of Dracula’s Ghost. I wanna read Pride and Prejudice 2: Elizabeth Has a Gun.
This is literally Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
No, it’s not. P&P&Z is a re-imagining of the original plot, not a sequel. I want to give Elizabeth a gun after the events of the first novel are concluded.
who would Elizabeth have beef enough to kill over with?
Idk, I haven’t actually read P&P since school and I honestly don’t remember it all that well, but that’s the magic of writing unnecessary sequels to public-domain works. It could be whoever we want it to be.
George Wickham.
Lydia comes to Pemberley for a visit, sans her husband because Darcy will not let that man set foot in their house after what he did to Georgiana. And she’s just as bubbly as usual, just as chatty. Until Darcy makes his excuses and leaves the two sisters sitting in front of the fire, and after a slight pause Lydia informs Lizzy that she can’t imagine how she manages to stay happy with a man so serious and grim as Darcy.
Lizzy, who knows her husband well enough by now, and that he was, in fact, smiling for most of dinner, tells her that they are well suited for each other and she is light enough for both of them.
After another pause, Lydia turns dark serious eyes to her eldest sister and asks in a tremulous, “Is he cruel to you too?”
Because we know George Wickham. We know what he is. He’s the man who tried to seduce a fifteen year old girl (Georgiana) for her fortune. He’s the man who ran off with Lydia Bennet, then also fifteen and the youngest of five sisters, knowing her family would be forced to give him her dowry and pay for them to marry her or else she’d be ruined. All the sisters would. And Lizzy knew, she knew the man was a rake and a cad. She’d even seen the way he yanked her arm in the carriage that first time they came home after their elopement. But somehow she’d still hoped that he’d try to make her happy. That hope is dead now.
Though not as dead as Wickham’s about to be.
It would be quite easy, she thinks, to make it look like a hunting accident. But then she wouldn’t get to see the fear in Wickham’s eyes. She wants him to know, you see. She wants to watch the charm and bravado drain from his face as he hears the pistol cock and realizes his final fatal error. Because while it might be a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife, there is yet another greater universal truth he failed to recognize.
Don’t fuck with the Bennet sisters; they will end you.
Your OC is at the store, shopping for whatever, minding their own business. Suddenly they hear the cock of a gun and screaming. Upon looking at the commotion they see a man with his face covered. They go to move but feel the pressure of a gun pressed to the back of their head and a voice saying “Not a sound.” The store is being held up and they are the first captive. How do they respond?
The car rumbles under Nat’s feet, a slight soft vibration that comes right up through the bare soles and travels up her legs. She flexes her toes a little, enjoying this one piece of free movement that she isn’t allowed in any other way.
Her heart beats, under the weight of flannel and cotton, as steady as she can make it, which isn’t to say she isn’t shaking or that her pulse doesn’t race. There’s only so much she can do to stop those automatic responses to her situation.
Nat’s fingers have gone numb behind her back, pressed between her spine and the slight cushiony softness of the backseat. Sharp-edged plastic digs in along the little rounded bone on her wrist on one side, then the other, as she tries to shift and find a more comfortable position. She forces herself to move, to stretch fingers out and then rub them against the leather. They tingle, painfully, but the seats are soft as lambswool, probably custom and cost more than Nat’s entire truck is worth.
Jameson’s head is heavy against her shoulder, but she doesn’t try to ask him to sit up or to move. She knows his skin is tacky with blood by now, and for her it’s enough just to hear the steady inhale and exhale that proves he’s at least still breathing.
Hehas to keep breathing.
The blindfold bites against her nose and cheekbones, digging in so tightly she’ll be marked with red if Owen Grant ever takes it off. So far, they just… drive. They have to have left Berras - he’s driven for so long and without taking any turns that would suggest he was just trying to get her lost in her own city, the place she knows best.
No… no. She isn’t that lucky, not this time.
Owen, in his smooth shining luxury car, is leaving Berras and taking them somewhere else. Nat thinks she knows where he’s going, and that makes the cold pulse of fear inside her deepen. The farther they go, the less she can promise that the only thing she could think of - with Owen screaming and a gun in her face - will actually work.
Jameson coughs, a heavy rasping sound - the first noise he’s made in at least an hour. She thinks. Without the ability to see, without knowing where she is or where he is going, she has no idea how long she’s even been in this car.
It had been, what, eight-thirty when Owen Grant showed up at the front door? Something in the heavy weight of exhaustion in her mind makes her think it’s midnight by now, or even later. Where are they going?
Jameson goes quiet, for a long time. “Nah. He’s a good kid.”
God, Jameson is fucking killing me!!! I thought about quoting everything he said and did so far, but this!!! Nnnnnnnnnngh!
“Come on, Jake,” She whispers, and tries to let herself relax and rest while they wait for Owen to come back. “Come on.”
Please talk to Keira.
God fucking damnit!!!! I swear, aí kept finding so many things I wanted to comment on, but I couldn’t stop reading to do so. This fucking chapter kept me on the edge of my seat the whole fucking time!
Owen is absolutely fucking unhinged! And a Jameson who can’t even manage anger breaks my heart!
I’m so invested in this arc and I still don’t really know how they’re gonna solve this whole shit, I am so excited to know! This is incredible, I love it so, so much, Ash!!!!
