𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 ,

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡       𝑎𝑟𝑒       𝑚𝑒𝑛    [ . . . ] 𝚝𝚘      𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜      𝚊𝚗𝚍      𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜  ?

[ardantlie]

extremely private  ,    selective writing blog for a headcanon based     𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑡 ,    from jane austen’s      𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊 & 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖏𝖚𝖉𝖎𝖈𝖊 .

based mostly personal headcanon    &    interpretation  ,    with influence from the original novel  ,    and the 2005 film  ,    canon compliant  .    𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫    𝑨𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑳    𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐  .    by roman    (  he /  they  ,    22 )    affiliated with pembarlie  

other links  .     carrd  .

[ardantlie]

I finished my training at work and they let me go home a few hours early so i will be working on a revamp (:

[ardantlie]

i don’t want to redo all my graphics and make new icons with my new fc i just want to write ):

[ardantlie]

hm... miss bennet.....

[ardantlie]

@nikleus​ asked  :   ‘ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑, 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑛 ’

elizabeth was not sure what wild animal had taken control of her that evening  .     what cruelty had risen from the marrow of her bones  ----     what annoyance had made her bare her teeth  ,   and sharpen her words  ,    and let her eyes burn                     (    so carefully practiced was her propriety  ,    was her nature of duality    /    in which she was both woman    &    wolf  ,   perfectly polished in too keen gazes and too severe words    )                     so carefully balanced on the edge of the blade of her own making  ,    and so acutely unwound    /    precise  ,    as if he had known exactly where the chink in her armor had laid  ----     i am no achilles  ,    and i have done well to protect that which haunts me the most  ,    i am the whetted wheel blades are sharpened upon    /     and i look at you with the face of a thousand ancestors that have said the same thing  :    i am at the mercy of no man                     ❝    i will not deign to offer you my polite stupidity and say that i am unsure of what you mean  ----     in fact i remember the matter entirely  ,    but surprised would be the wrong word  ,    sir    ❞

her gaze is demanding  ,    and it rakes against him with the conviction of an executioner  ,   as if to say  :    i will see you with your skin off before i agree to be by your side  .     fists tighten  ,    she offers no mercy  ,   nor lapse in her judgement of him                     ❝     do not pretend to know the truth of my emotion  ,    it is an unbecoming look on you to be so selfishly wrong in your assumption of a woman    ❞

[ardantlie]

@faeblcssed​ asked  :    ❛ 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ, 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒… 𝑛𝑎𝑦, 𝑔𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑝𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠 ❜  

it was true  ----     the swirl of gossip seemed endless here  ,   propelled by the circulation of whistledown papers  ,   it appeared as though it would never stop                    (     and it was not as though she entirely minded  ,    she cared little what was said about her  ----    or the opinion that was whispered by others when she entered rooms  ;    elizabeth had been the subject of it for years    )                     she could almost laugh at it  ,     that woman is a wolf    /     that woman is venomous     /     she’ll have her teeth at your throat before you can muster a hello strong enough to break through the iron of her gaze                    ❝    you say that as if you would expect anything less from the people of mayfair    ❞

she sighs  ,    guiding aurora through the throng of people  ----    the crowd parting and melding for her the way one would part the sea with the bow of a ship                     (    she wondered which sent them faster  ,    if it was her ferocity  ,   or the demure beauty of the woman on her arm    /    perhaps she thought it a pity  ,    that they had to earn elizabeth’s favor if they wished to speak to the other    )                     ❝     you know i do not care what they say about me  ----     but i would not have your reputation ruined for sticking by my side should they decide i am not befitting this society  .    i am already out of my element here as it is    ❞

[ardantlie]

@antigoddex​ asked  :    [   𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺𝐸𝑅   ]

she did not have words to explain that which haunted her the most  .     all the prayers that had died in her throat on the threshold of a church    /    all the poetry that was lost in the shallow tides of her mind late at night  .    all things forever unspoken  ,    forever unknown  ----     forever living in the thorny cage that had become her heart  .   she was not well known  ,    but she was known well enough  ;     known to be venomous  ,    and cruel    ,    and a woman both devoted to and vehemently against the notion of love                   (     to others  ,   she was a double edged sword    /    a conundrum that confused    &   frightened  ----    a mystery best left unsolved    )                   because they could not see into the hallows of her heart  ,    they could not understand the strangeness and the certainty that lied within it  .    yes  ,   she demanded love    /     yes  ,    she shirked away at it’s violent touch  .    but who could understand her  ,   when she did not understand herself  ?

but the daylight lingered still  ,   the noon sun hidden behind a layer of storm - clouds    /    the earth shuddering beneath the warning signs of the downpour  ,    and elizabeth shuddered with it  .    she had no reason to want to leave so quickly  ,    to mutter to her hosts how she must be home soon                  (    how surely her family was expecting her  ,   and her sisters  ----    oh  ,   her dear sisters  .   how she could never leave them for too long  ,   how they would have a thousand questions for her to answer  ,   as it was rare that they did not follow where she went    )    there was no reason  ,   except for the gaze that lingered on her now

how was she to describe that which dug into her like the flat of a knife  ----     that softened gaze which both soothed and pierced  ,    that sank its teeth into her and shook free the hardness of her skin   ----    that exposed her  ,   that turned her into the rawness of a wound                  (    how was she to convey the collision of stars  ?    to explain that yes  :   you have looked upon me  ,   and you have lit fires in the veins of my heart    /    you have stood at the pulpit and forged the sword of my own soul  ,   and now you hold it at my neck and ask for me to explain the mercies of love  .    how do i explain that  ,    yes  :   in one look you have destroyed me  ,   and absolved me of sin  ,   and created life in the decayed heart of my love    )

that gaze  ,   that had slowly unraveled her like the thread of a gown for hours  ,   mercilessly undoing her    /    undressing her    /     stripping her down to bones and sweetened marrow  .    and now she was scrambling  ,   her overcoat fisted in her ivory white knuckles  ,   bustling towards the door  ,   leaving the room with nothing more than a nervous laugh  ----    a breathless  ,    i am quite alright  ,   i would just very much like to walk home  ,   i have so much to tell my sisters

and am i not a woman that has stepped through time  ?    am i not at the mercy of the universe  ,   am i not raptured  ,   and divine  ,   and  ,   and  ,   and  .  .  .                   ❝    you don’t understand  ,   i  .  .  .    ❞                  i am cruel  ,   and undeserving  ,   i am a mouth that only knows how to devour    /    i am a starving wolf  ,   and you have opened your door to me  ----    and if you let me in  ,   i will only eat your heart

she turned  ,    and before the words could find their way through the labyrinth of her heart  ,    her hand was held delicately between their own  .    and she felt all at once as if she could scream  ,   or cry  ,   or curse the universe for setting this upon her  .   as though it could hear the vile beat of her heart  :   i will not love  ,   i will not love  ,   i will not love  .

lips meet the cold of her skin  ,    and it is as if the world falls out from under her    /    as if stars collapse  ,   and explode  ,   and blind her in one singular  ,   devastating moment  .    and she feels her heartbeat thunder in her chest  ,   fretfully reminding her through the darkness of space that she was alive  .   her eyes squeeze shut  ----    as if she can fend off the feeling that creeps around her  ,   the horrible  ,   devastating realization of love  ----

❝    please  .  .  .    ❞                  she opens her eyes  ,    and stares at the empty hallway before her  ,    her hand still extended  ----    the ghost of their touch branded into her skin like the burn of wildfire  .    elizabeth shudders  ,    and wordlessly plunges into the storm outside  ,    their gaze burned behind her eyes like the flash of a supernova

[ardantlie]

@uizado​ asked  :    ❛ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 ❜

in her heart  ,    she is always standing at the edge of a grave  .    at the edge of some great precipice that yawns beneath her  ,   cold and dark and empty    /    at the lip of eternity  ,    at the behest of a god that was supposed to know better than her  ----    that was supposed to be older  ,   and wiser                  (    and she had read once  ,   that the ancient greeks believed that your fate was determined the moment you were born  .    that from your first breath in this world  ,   every moment up until your death was carved out into the world  ,   and it was merely your job to follow in each foot print laid before you    )                    but she was a woman who wanted to forge her own path    /    she was the creation  ,   and the creator of her own fate    -----     what use is destiny  ,    when it is a story that has been told a thousand times before  ?

yes  ,   elizabeth bennet wanted to be more indeed  .   she wanted to be a great deal more than what life had chosen for her  .    and perhaps this was her chance

❝    there are people who keep flowers until they are all withered  ,   as keepsakes  .    they keep them as moments in time  ,   where the world stood still  ,   and happiness was all that existed in one singular  ,    fleeing moment    ❞

her gaze turns  ,   and she looks at the great wizard as he lies in bed                   (    she wondered if he was really ill  ,   or if he was like her younger sisters  ----    feigning ill when all they truly wanted was to know that they were loved  ,   and cared for     )                   no matter what the answer  ,   she could not find it in her heart to be angry if it were a falsehood  .    she marveled  ,   really  ,   and understood that there was no truer human nature than the want to be loved

❝    i suppose you are right  ,    though  .    i will find you some fresh ones  ,    perhaps lavender  ----    to soothe the restlessness that i see stir in your legs still    ❞

[ardantlie]

❝    i suppose you know where we are  ,   then  ?    ❞                    her voice is not unkind  ,    and her tone does not betray a sense of unbecoming                     (    rather  ----    it is quite amused  ,   almost playful in the way the corners of her lips tick up into the slightest smile    /    slight  ,   and almost demure  ,    as if to hide it    )                    she could not recall the last time she had found herself lost in the woods  ,    so well worn were the paths near her own home that she could retrace her steps in dreams  .    but this was new  ,   and distant  ,   and the ground sprang with strange flowers in a thousand colors  ,    so much so that she thought perhaps she was lost in her dreams

fingers press against the bark of a tree  ----    and it almost feels warm beneath her touch  ,   as though it were a living  ,   breathing body beneath her touch  .    but elizabeth does not recoil from it  ,   instead she marvels  ,   and traces her fingers against the worn creature the way one would the skin of a lover                     ❝    where have you brought me  ?    ❞

@chaoshe​  ,    for      𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟      𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒

[ardantlie]

@antigoddex​ asked  :    ❛   𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 - 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢  ❜

the evening was a blur  ----    and she could not remember when twilight had turned into dusk  ,   or when the darkness of the night had roved slowly across the colored sky    /    all she could recall was the way her dress bunched between her fingers  .    how the white fabric had fallen away from ivory skin  ,    how the parting of her legs had come like an invitation into heaven                   (    but i think we are both strange creatures  ,   are we not  ?    you are creation    /    i am the knife    /    together the world trembles at the mingling of our bodies     )                  their body is neither warm  ,   nor cold  ,    and yet still she flushes beneath every touch  .    they are between her  ,    surrounding her  ,    inside of her    /    a sinner kneeling at the pulpit of her desire                  (    she wonders what she tastes like  ----    if she is sweet like poison berries  ,    if she tastes of rain  ,    if she is something so delicately human that it cannot be named    )    

the darkness of space creeps in the corners of her vision  ,    and she does not question it  .    how they are a cosmic deity  ,    how they are a creation  ----    a commander  ----    a god of the universe  .    all she can focus on is the press of their mouth against her thighs  ,    their fingers that feel like rumblings of thunder  ,    their caress that is a shock of electricity that runs straight to her bones  .    her teeth bare  ,    and her lips part  ,    and it is a silent question  :    will you allow a wolf to rest her teeth against the hallow of your neck  ?

she gasps  ,    her delicate hands fluttering to find purchase somewhere on their body  ,   nails dug into taught skin                  (    do you unravel beneath me  ,   or am i the red thread that ties you together  ,   and keeps you whole  ?    )                  ❝    more    ❞                  it is breathless  ,   and heavy on her chest  ;    and as her fingers meet the darkened sky of their hair  ----     she has the feeling as though the entire galaxy sits before her  ,    at the command of her desire

she rises  ,   just enough to crush their mouths together                 never one for being obedient  ,   even in moments like this  ----    she wonders if they would admire her for it  ,   someone who demands as fiercely as she does                  breath is hot  ,   and shared between them  ,   her fingers curling into the back of their hair as she brings their gaze to her own                  ❝    now    ❞

and then they are inside her  ,   and a thousand colors burst to life behind her eyes  .    her chest rises and falls                   (    and with each gasped breath is a hushed  ,   desperate  ,   i love you  ,    i love you  ,    i love you    )                   she is unraveling  ,   undone  ,    devoured and reborn beneath them in that moment  .    she cries out with each thrust of their hips  ,   her head fallen back  ----    her neck bared  ,    their teeth at the center of her throat  ,    a wolf lured into submission as she moans and tightens around them

in her eyes  ,    stars dance and pour their light into the depths of space as she looks upon them    /    their foreheads fall  ,   and rest against each other  ,   and somewhere in the universe a supernova rattles the cosmos                   (    who are we  ,   if not violent creation    ?    )

[ardantlie]

i swear to god lizzie wants to smack the shit out of 95% of the people she meets like my woman are you good ? are you mentally well ? where’s all that repressed rage coming from ? where are you storing all that anger in your small body ?

[ardantlie]

you strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied  /  i’m afriad i don’t know what you mean- you forget yourself  /  you’re like me, i’m never satisifed  /  is that right ? 

[ardantlie]

the duality of man is absolutely hating ham.ilton and its subject manner while still being able to listen to phillipa soo’s songs on it and sob

[ardantlie]

there was a side of elizabeth bennet that was rarely seen .

pride and prejudice  ,    dir joe wright  ,    2005  /  facade  ,   skys  /   detail of st. catherine of siena  ,    carlo dolci  /  closeup of amanda seyfried  /  intervals  ,    tamino  /  romeo and juliet  ,    franco zeffirelli  ,    1968  /  two  ,    sleeping at last  /  pride and prejudice  ,    dir joe wright  ,    2005  /  the sickness unto death  ,   anne sexton

[ardantlie]

𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀      -     𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 .

𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉 -   melancholy at best ,introspective, severely misunderstood , pleasure in the subdued ,helping in your own way , dreams in poetry , the slowness of falling asleep , refreshing meditation .

𝙎𝙐𝙉 -     sunbleached clothes , futures that are too bright , everything at arm’s length , balancing intensity , blind encouragement , comfort of sleep , distracting sunspots in your vision , necessity of growth .

𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙈 -     chaos with a purpose , emotions running high , natural comfortable anarchy , high volume , leaving your mark ,  brief flashes of violence ,rambling quickly , the intensity of desire .

𝙒𝙄𝙉𝘿 -     running towards instead of away , instinctive motivation , making an impact , knows everyone who knows anyone , playful pranks , mood swings in a split second , collecting old trinkets , uncontrollable focus .

𝙎𝙉𝙊𝙒 -     serene on the surface , cold blooded heart , love it or hate it attitude , good memories , heavy discussions , sharp determination , relentless resolve , not as scary as it seems .

tagged  by :  @viiolencia  ♡

tagging :  anyone who would like to  !

[ardantlie]

❝    and you are an author  ,   miss march  ?    ❞                    delight colored her cheeks  ----    brought a grin to her features  ,   delight    &    joy     &    curiosity alight in the depths of her eyes  .    she hadn’t ever considered herself to have the skill for writing                     lest it was in her journal  ,    in the deep thoughts of her heart that she would let no other living soul lay eyes upon                     but the thought excited her  ,    her gaze roving the woman’s features  ----    as if to search for some sign of deceit or trickery  ,    some sign that somehow she had peered into the blood of her heart and extracted what most she desired to hear  -----    just to accost her  .   but there was no sign of it  ;    only sharp  ,   brilliant eyes  ,   and an intelligent mouth                     (    a woman who shared her thoughts as fiercely  ,    who would not let the world crush her beneath it’s heel    /    a woman who spoke  ,   and commanded the room to listen to her    )

❝    forgive my excitement  ,   i simply  ----    well  ,    you are extraordinary  .    i admire your forwardness  ,    a woman of my own heart  .    though i am often called disagreeable  ,   or even cruel in my way of speaking    ❞

@holywrite​  ,    for      𝑗𝑜       𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ

[ardantlie]

it was not often that she was granted the presence of the sea  .    to hear its clash against rocky shores  ,   the roar of its tides  ,   the swell and soul of it that seemed to captivate her entirely                    (    how depthless it seemed to be  ,    how she was sure that the heart of the earth itself laid within its depths  ----    or that the answer to all things could be found deep down  ,    if only one was brave enough to look    )

her fingers gripped the railings as she peered down at it  ,   the breeze pulling her hair free and whipping it around her face  ----    and on her features  ,   a rare - seen smile  ,   airy and delighted  ,   as though there was not a thing in the world that could crush her spirit                  ❝    i’m afraid i live in the countryside  ----    the greatest waters we have there are rivers and lakes  ,   and they are no true comparison to the mercy of the sea    ❞

@piraterule​  ,     for      𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑡ℎ      𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛