She/her -- 25 -- This account will be completely full of reblogs. Just warnin' you now. Pro-Choice -- Feminist -- Anti TERF Bullshit -- I (probably over)tag just about everything -- Feel free to message me about anything
do it while the ground falls out from under you; do it while everything you loved goes up in smoke; do it while the dream of your future is still burning embers around you; build anew on the hot ashes of everything you worked for; keep going, keep loving, keep living, even as all you want is to turn back (there is no turning back; it is gone already); do it through grief, which feels like fear in the body
The tag I have seen most often on this post is "I needed to hear this," and I am so, so grateful to have said something that was needed. These words came out of the depths of my own grief, and I am so grateful to have made this small connection with others in the midst of it. Grief is isolating and indescribable, but none of us are alone.
That said, these tags were what I needed to hear:
we're all gonna make it
it's okay if you can't see how yet. you don't have to believe in better. for now it is enough to just keep going, and eventually the path will emerge. you are not alone. you are not lost in the woods forever. keep going. I love you.
no okay but persephone. when you listen to the soundtrack it's like she's a party girl she drinks and has fun but you guys dont understand because every single time she took a drink she grimaced. every single time. not once did she enjoy herself, because it wasn't her indulging in her wants it was her coping. and even!! even during livin it up on top when everyone takes a drink there's a moment of silence where they all look almost disgusted by it. none of them enjoy it it doesn't taste good to any of them yet still they drink it??
and then UGH okay because lady of the underground i was under the impression that she was interacting with the workers and whatnot like making the cracks in the wall that orpheus was about to break down but there's no one on stage. the only people on stage are the musicians, hermes, and persephone. none of the workers are there. she's singing to herself. do you understand do you get it?? especially with why do we build the wall right before that because I didn't realize persephone was in that song?? and the whole time she looks terrified. she Doesn't want to be here she Doesn't want to engage with this (my mom compared the song to being at a maga rally and she was 100% correct) but she does anyway, perhaps because she's forced to. and the look of heartbreak when eurydice appears; the way eurydice is confused and put off at first, but it doesn't take long for her to learn the words and join in????
eurydice and persephone is a whole other thing because I never realized how much of a relationship they had. like persephone is quick to be friendly with her, and eurydice is enthralled by that attention. but then during chant when persephone is singing about like the earth dying and people starving she's looking at eurydice walking by. she's looking at her and she looks heartbroken, she's reaching out to her but she can't reach her because she's not there. she watches as the fates strip eurydice of everything she has, and then that look of despair changes of one to fear as hades' eyes land on eurydice as he declares he'll find someone else who will be grateful. and I know that like flowers can be like an analogy for sa but I really felt it during that part. not so much in songbird vs rattlesnake? but definitely during the end of chant like AJHVSGDJAS.
and then like I said when eurydice enters the underworld persephone looks shaken. because she knows eurydice, and she knows orpheus, and- idk man. imagine being in hell and someone you know shows up, but you know they can't leave and you know they're soon to become a shell of who they once were. like. yeah
EDIT IF YOURE READING THIS CHECK THE REBLOGS THE ONE WITH BLUE'S TAGS IS THE BEST YOU SHOULD REBLOG THAT ONE NOT THIS ONE!!!!
#THANK YOU for pointing out how persephone looks at eurydice during chant bc i think about that so much #she’s arguing with hades and then her attention is drawn to eurydice. “the harvest dies and people starve” is basically directed at her. #persephone is living with this knowledge and it hurts her #i love how hadestown touches on persephone knowing and caring about eurydice and orpheus #she doesn’t put into words how much she knows them but she interacts with both of them like she’s always known them #how many summers has she gone up top and watched orpheus grow. do you think she catalogues when he’s changed the way a mother might #do you think she looked at eurydice and understood her frustration #do you think she knew what was going to happen. do you think she saw a pattern and knew how orpheus and eurydice would end #also! unrelated to what i just said but in livin it up on top #when orpheus says “she will provide” #and persephone responds with “i will” very emphatically #and she’s looking at orpheus #i wonder how much of that was a promise to herself as much as a promise to him and everyone else around #she’s doing the best she can and she’s seeing more and more that it’s not enough #all she can do is say that she’s going to do everything in her power to provide for the people she loves (blueisconfused)
#When I was playing Persephone in Hadestown #they had me walk onstage a little bit before Eurydice enters the underworld in Why We Build The Wall #and every time I walked onstage #I would just watch the workers sing #And then Eurydice came on and I tried to look as horrified as possible #and during the last verse I would snap my head over to look out in the audience #I tried to convey that it was like I was singing along against my will #if that makes any sense at all and #during our lady of the underground we had workers on stage BUT #there was a section I always had fun with where we were allowed to call a worker over for “come here brother.. lemme guess” and #then we’d dismiss them and then #during the section where she’s singing “when was the last time you saw the sky..?” #I tried to make it very apparent that although she was looking at the audience #she was singing to herself #And I’ve been wanting to find a way to yap for a while so I hope you don’t mind my reblogging with my own shit #she doesn’t put into words how much she knows them but she interacts with both of them like she’s always known them #but I was always trying to make the audience get the feeling that #although I was acting like I was just a bit of an overdramatic party girl #there was a lot I was dealing with as the character and I was coping unhealthily #CHANT TOO WAS ALSO SUPER FUN #initially my Hades (awesome guy) and I had the idea that we’d come up and down the stairs on the platform #and it was intended to look like we were sort of chasing each other arguing about what was going on #but unfortunately we couldn’t execute that because there was only a set of stairs on one side of the platform #it was still awesome though !!!!! I was onstage during the part where Orpheus was singing and #I’d always close my eyes when he was talking about how “lady persephone’s blinded by a river of wine” (exceptformarvin)
Quite the one-two punch from blueisconfused and exceptformarvin!!
I want to highly recommend two tools for helping you with this very sad situation, which you must use before it happens.
The first is this wonderful script that will automatically add key information (that you choose) like author, title, summary, etc to your bookmark notes so you at least know what got deleted.
The second is this incredible bulk downloader for AO3. Input any AO3 page (such as your bookmarks page) and tell it what format you want to download in and it will just.... DOWNLOAD IT ALL!! I run it every few months so that I have all my bookmarks downloaded in my preferred EPUB format. That way I know I always have my favorites downloaded in case they ever get deleted.
With the combination of these two, I can look in my bookmarks, see what was deleted, and easily find it in my downloads. It's such a relief to have my own fic library is all my favs!
Discord is supposedly saying this is going to affect "only 10% of users", but I really don't believe them at all. It's always going to be way worse and affect more people than what they claim.
So in case anyone needs it:
After Discord announced plans to require age verification for all users, a free, HTML-based tool emerged that aims to bypass facial scans on
A/N: I cannot stress enough how much spoilers for Ready or Not 2: Here I Come this has. Like to the point I'm putting the description and tags under the cut! Please be aware I lift entire surprise plot points of the movie for this! Couldn't stop thinking about this while sitting in the theater!! GO SEE THE MOVIE IT IS SO GOOD!!!
this thing is 15k words.
AO3 Link if that's your preference
Summary: You survived your wedding only to be hunted by the most powerful families in the world. The monster awoken in you intrigued Titus Danforth, who would do anything to have The High Seat and you as his as well. Thankfully, a hidden rule might make that all possible.
Tags: violence, blood, descriptions of bodily injury but i don't think i made it too bad, morally gray!reader, horny for violence reader and titus, slightly OOC Titus for the sake of sicko romance, slightly OOC ursula, the tiniest hint of weird sister/mother things with Titus (like so small i dont think you'll notice), SMUT!, BLOOD KINK!, BITING!, SLAPPING!, ROUGH SEX!, unprotected sex and they don't even talk about it he just does that :), multiple positions, light choking, like not even choking, they are crazy for each other, slightly subby Titus for like a second
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is not how the day after your dream wedding was supposed to go.
You’re supposed to be in first class on a plane to some remote Le Domas family home in the countryside of France. You’re supposed to be sipping wine and giggling with your new husband as you both conspire to find a way to sneak into the bathroom together to join the mile high club.
You’re not supposed to be fighting for your life for the second night in a row, as Satan worshipping rich assholes hunt you for sport and their place on the top of the food chain of the whole goddamn world.
But as you kick in the face of the man in the gold mask and knock several of his teeth out, as a guttural scream rips from your throat, as you shove him into a high powered industrial wash machine, as you listen to his desperate screams as he drowns and is cooked from the steam, you can’t help but feel, for the second night in a row, more alive than you’ve ever felt in your life.
+
When he first watched the footage of your ill-fated wedding night, Titus Danforth saw something in you.
The way you choked your new sister-in-law, taking her to her knees, the way you crashed a car and rolled it before beating the Le Domas’s trusted servant to a pulp, the way you took out the matriarch with the very game box that had damned you. It was monstrous, it was raw, it was bloody.
You had a look in your eyes after killing Mrs. Le Domas, wide and black and...hungry. Titus knew that look well. He’d seen it in the mirror many times.
It was a look he hadn’t seen on anyone else, not even his own sister, his twin. Why now? Why her? Why would Mr. Le Bail present him with someone whose soul so clearly aligns with his own, just to have her be the one they must hunt and destroy? Hadn’t he been faithful?
Ursula had clicked her tongue when the final video ended; you laughing as your husband exploded in a mess of blood and guts. “She’s fierce.”
Titus had nodded, jaw tight. “She’s smart...she’s a fighter.”
“It’s a shame.”
Something heavy formed in the pit of his stomach. A lock of rage and need and anger forming like a tumor in his body, weighing him down. His heart grew to a painful size in his chest, the beating of it thumping in his ears. His breath came out in tiny, rushed bursts through his lips. Sweat formed on his brow.
His sister knew that look. The festering smoldering embers of Titus yearning for something, and knowing there was nothing he could do to have it. It was a look he’d given their father many times through their lives. “Titus...”
“I want her.”
His voice was a rough mumble, rocks stuck in his throat that threatened to cascade down in a landslide of a scream.
“You can’t have her. The By-Laws have been triggered, we have to fight for our seat. This is father’s final wish. Your needs cannot—”
“I have never needed—” he stopped himself, taking in a deep breath, eyes closed. “I want to keep her. She’s...”
“You’ve never met this girl, my dear brother.”
“And yet I know everything I need to.”
+
When you were sitting in the main room of the Danforth Lodge as The Lawyer explained the rules of your second night of torment, gag over your mouth, still bloodied wedding dress itching on your skin, you did your best to take in every word.
It was simple.
Survive the night of human hunting until sunrise again, and you were free to go. Whichever hunter from the High Families managed to kill you, would win the High Seat. The hunters are not allowed to kill each other, not even by accident. If none of them were able to catch you and wear Mr. Le Bail’s ring at the end of the night, he would be very unhappy. You assumed the fate of your in-laws is what awaited these people as well.
As the rules were being explained, you took a mental survey of the room. Only a few people looked like they could be real threats to you, so if you found a way to mow through the strong ones, you could easily hide from the idiots. Though, a voice that had been awoken last night was begging you to just end them all, in whatever sick way was available to you.
You studied each of their faces, engraining them on imaginary wanted posters in your mind, eyes moving across the room, until you settled on...him.
The man sitting in the middle table, next to the woman who had greeted you when your blindfold was first removed here. Titus and Ursula Danforth. The twins. And Titus wasn’t looking at the lawyer as he went over the oh-so-important and sacred rules. No, he was looking directly at you.
At first you noticed how handsome he was. Significantly older than you, but with a ruggedness that drew you in. His hair was silver, soft looking curls, there were slight wrinkles around his eyes, and silver stubble on the lower half of his face. But what really started the race of your heart, what made you suck in a deep breath even through the gag in your mouth, were his eyes. Dark, hazel eyes bore into yours, and instead of holding the smugness and envy of everyone else in the room, his were filled with...sadness?
That couldn’t be right. He was here to kill you, just like all of them. He has no reason to be sad.
But.
That’s the only way to read his expression. While his lips were twitched up in a smirk, the smile didn’t reach those eyes at all. He kept contact with you deeply, like he was trying to search into your eyes and into your very soul. Like he was trying to find something in there. No. Like he’d already found it. The sadness was from the knowledge he was going to lose it.
When it was time for the game to begin, you didn’t even flinch. You were exhausted, you were frustrated, but you were determined to win again. You’d come this far.
A needle was presented with some sort of drug that would knock you out so you could be taken to a secret location on the grounds. Before the Lawyer’s assistant could even lift a finger, Titus was on his feet.
“I’ll do it,” he’d said.
The low tone of his voice rumbled in your ears, sent a shiver up your spine. Not fear. A thrill of excitement.
The heavy contact between your eyes remained the entire time he walked up to you. You even tilted up your face to look at him as he grabbed the needle.
He brought it to your neck, and leaned down to whisper in your ear, in a voice that felt gentler than you’d have thought him capable, “It’s going to be me that gets you.”
It should have sounded like a threat. It was a threat. He was going to kill you. That’s what he was saying to you.
But.
In the promise of his words, something underneath felt like more.
You watched as his face faded from your vision as everything had gone black.
+
It’s been hours since you’d been let loose on the golf course. You had two kills under your belt, and had only suffered a cut to your hand and some shrapnel in your arm from an explosion that you hadn’t caused.
The first kill was easy enough, and the next person to join the hunt from his family hadn’t bothered to show up. The other ones you saw looked like idiots anyway, it would have been almost boring to have to fight them.
Your second had been particularly fun. The father of your former husband’s ex fiancé. You’d managed to trick him into shooting himself with his own gun. And that new small, sick part of you was thrilled at the idea that the annoying, bitchy girl you had stolen Alex from was going to be joining the field.
You had run into Titus and Ursula a few times, but instead of trying to fight them off, upon seeing Titus again, you both froze at the sight. Ursula yelled something at him, and tried to shoot you, but she missed and you ran. He let you. You didn’t want to fight them. You were happy you didn’t have to.
The thrill of the chase filled Titus like a drug in his veins, and he tried to ignore the fact that this chase was to end in your death, and not with you shoved against a brick wall, melting in his hands as they ripped at your clothes, his mouth latched onto every inch of your blood covered skin he could get.
His head wasn’t in this game, even though he knew he had no choice but to win.
Your next opportunity to run or kill comes when you are hiding out in the dancehall of the Danforth Casino. The sophisticated Chinese woman, who you’d noticed looked utterly bored by the explanation of the rules, has cornered you, holding you back with a sword pointing to your throat.
“You need to listen to me!” she yells desperately. “I don’t want to kill you! I don’t want to do this! But there is a loophole to this whole game!”
Your eyes, which have been darting around the room looking for an escape, stop their manic wandering. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I had my lawyers scour the By-Laws of the High Seat, and they found that if you, the winner of your High Family’s game, were to willingly join another, then that family would automatically gain the High Seat, and have complete control of everything. You wouldn’t need to die.”
“I just need to marry another one of you people?”
She nods her head frantically. “I-I know it’s not ideal. But what choice do you have? I can offer that chance to you. M-My son is an idiot, but you can just marry him, give me all the power, and live life however you please.”
“Give you all the power?” you ask, but more as a quiet question to yourself.
Maybe it would be worth it to just give up on the fighting and the running and just...settle. Maybe giving yourself to this other family, selling your soul to live would be easier than all of this.
Suddenly an image flashes in your mind. If you can just marry your way out of this, if you can just pick one of the litter to tie yourself to, to sell your soul for, and to win all of the power in the world for...
The image your mind constructs is of the man staring sad and longingly at you in the lodge. The man who has probably trained his whole life for this, letting you run away in the woods.
Why can’t you have Titus Danforth?
No. That’s crazy. It doesn’t matter what you think you saw in his eyes, or if you think he let you go in those woods. They have gathered to kill you. He is here to hunt you. You’re going to leave tonight a widow, and nothing else.
The woman has been rambling on as you think, saying something about how she would be better than everyone else with this power. You don’t care. You don’t want her son. You don’t want to settle.
You let out a piercing scream, as you run at her, hands aiming for her sword. Her eyes go wide as you manage to catch it and rip it away from her.
+
“Is that fucking true?” Titus spits into his phone.
Ursula is pacing angrily, grumbling to herself about the incompetence of the rule writers.
They’d been watching you on cameras in their effort to catch you, and heard the whole conversation over the security microphones.
On the other end of Titus’s cell is the Lawyer, who responds in his eerily jaunty voice, “Yes. Technically as the catalyst of the vacancy, if she were to join a High Council Family willingly, in other words marry into them instead, well then there would be no Spousal vacancy, and therefore no need to fight for the High Seat.”
“So if I—” Titus’s voice catches, sounding just a little too hopeful. “If she married into our family, we would keep our seat?”
“Yes, Mr. Danforth, precisely.”
“FUCK!” Titus yells, angrily ending the call and slamming his phone repeatedly onto the nearest counter. “All this fucking time wasted! She got fucking hurt again! And I could have just—"
“Titus, stop it!” Ursula yells, grabbing his arm in a strong grip to stop his violent movement. “This is a good thing! You wanted her, right? Well congrats my darling brother, if we can get to her, then maybe you can actually have her!”
His breath comes out in heavy huffs, eyes wild and angry. But he nods, slowing himself at her words. He can have what he wants, what his black heart is telling him he needs. He just has to catch her.
“We have to save her. We have to get to her before—"
“Wait a second, Ti,” Ursula cautions, letting go of his arm. “If I let you do this—"
“Let me?”
“I could still kill her.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I don’t want to, not now, so don’t make me,” Ursula hisses. “If I let you do this, if we can convince her to marry you, then I need you to promise right now, on Le Bail’s name, that you will share that power with me, as Father intended.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not about trust, dear brother, it’s about making sure we keep our words. I will swear it too. On Mr. Le Bail’s name, if the Bride joins our family and we hold the High Seat, I will share that power with you, Titus.”
His jaw clenches. “On Mr. Le Bail’s name, I swear it.”
+
You manage to slam the hilt of the sword into the woman’s face, the crack of her nose breaking makes a sick satisfaction fill your blood. You smile maniacally and laugh as she falls back, still doing her best to hold the sword.
“What is wrong with you? You stupid fucking bitch! I’m offering you a way out!” She screams as she spits a spray of her blood into your face.
You shake it off, fighting for control over her weapon. You’re just about to finally rip the sword from her grasp, when the double doors of the hall slam open, and Alex’s ex stands in the opening. She lets out a scream as she sees you, and your eyes go wide as the sound of gunshots fills the room.
You and the other woman manage to dart out of the way, as the Ex runs towards you, fire and zero control in her eyes. An opportunity is about to open up, that twisted part of you begins to smile as you realize you can hit two birds with one stone. You yank the older woman around, and just as the Ex reaches you both, you slam both your hands holding the sword into her.
The Ex chokes, blood coughing out of her mouth as she shakes and falls to the ground, sword sticking straight up.
“What have you do—” the woman is cut off by the explosion of her body, raining blood and guts all over you for probably the dozenth time this weekend.
With a cough, you wipe the blood from your face, matter of factly blinking and shrugging.
That’s four people down. Only the dummies and the Danforths left.
The Danforths.
You shake yourself out of those ridiculous, wishful thinking ideas again, and make a mad dash to the door, out to the dark of the night again.
+
“Thank fuck she got out!” Titus exclaims, a swell of pride in his belly as he watches the security footage on his phone. His now chosen future bride is clever and vicious. His pants start to tighten at the thought of it.
“Yes but she’s going for the woods again! She could get away and then we get nothing but death!” Ursula urges. She’s speeding as fast as she can on their golf cart in the direction of your approximate location. “She’s heading north, when we get to the tree-line, you go get her, and I’ll make sure no other hunters follow. I’ll send them on a goose-chase away from you.”
Titus nods.
When reach their destination, before he can jump out and chase after you, Ursula grabs him one last time. “Hold on!” She reaches down to her right hand and pulls off one of the pieces of jewelry. A silver ring with a purple gem, sitting in a crescent moon frame. “It was mother’s. If you’re going to propose, you might as well do it right.”
He snatches it from her, laying a quick kiss on her cheek as a thank you, and runs into the woods.
+
It’s dark other than the faint glow from the Danforth property, and the light of the moon above you, but just past the trees you can see the stone fence of the property line. Your feet are heavy but they carry you as fast as they can go to your freedom.
It’s going to be over soon, the only way you can make sense for it to.
As you approach the wall, you slow down, head darting back and forth as you try to find some way to climb over it.
In the silence since you’ve stopped, the only sound is your stilted breathing and the wind blowing through the leaves.
And a crack of twigs behind you.
You gasp, turning with wide eyes as the imposing silhouette of Titus Danforth emerges from the trees. He looks like he’s glowing with the orange property lights coming from behind. Your first instinct is to find the beauty in it. Your second is to remember what his purpose here is.
He approaches slowly, and as your back hits the stone wall, you notice that he hasn’t brought his weapon. Maybe he dropped it in his haste. Maybe he finds it more pleasurable to kill you with his bare hands. You know you certainly did when it had been your chance to snuff out a life.
“You look like a lost little lamb,” Titus says, voice once again softer than you’d expected.
“Like a lamb to the slaughter, you mean?” You snarl at him.
He lets out a short laugh. “Hmm. You’re funny. You don’t sound scared.”
“I’m too angry to be scared.”
“Oh yeah? What’s got you so angry?”
You roll your eyes. “Other than the obvious multiple attempts on my life? Well, I thought I found the love of my life, and then it turns out he was a secret Satan worshipper whose family tried to kill me.” As you speak, one of your hands starts to feel around for any fallen branches that might be strong enough to play the role of a weapon. “And then when I needed him the most, when I stood up for myself and killed his psycho bitch mother, he turned on me. As though any of this is my fault!”
“That sounds awful, but you’re not the first to meet this fate,” Titus says casually, hands going into his pockets. His right hand feels around for the ring, as he searches for the words to make his offer. But it’s so fun to play with you. You’re tough, you’re truly not scared of him, you’re up to this challenge. All things that make him want you more. “You know, my sister and I watched the whole thing. We were given the security footage of your wedding night. I saw everything you did to those moron Le Domas’s, even the mother. Tell me about that kill.”
Your hand manages to grip onto something strong, but the words of his confession and question hit you just as you get a good grip on it. “What?”
“When you killed the Le Domas mother, what did it feel like?” Titus asks again, taking a step closer, voice dropping an octave.
You can feel your heart start to beat in your ears, the memory of her kill flooding into you. It felt powerful. It felt enriching. It felt...good. Too good. And he saw it. He saw all of it. Your most violent acts. Your thighs squeeze together, and you know he sees it by the way his eyes flash to them and widen just slightly. Your chest heaves, as he licks his lips, and you don’t know what this is. The moment nor this feeling. But you know you can’t just stand here and wait for it to be a trap.
“How about I show you?” You bark out as you swing the heavy stick towards him.
A look of excited shock comes over him as Titus dodges your swing, and then again as you swing the stick back the other way. He has this wild smile on his face, like he’s inviting you to try again, to actually hit him. He wants to see how far you’ll go, how deep you’ll fall into violence.
But he’s not fighting back. He doesn’t want to hurt you.
You throw the stick as hard as you can at him, then rush forward to try to take him to the ground. Your much smaller body only manages to push him back a couple steps, but you take a swing with your fist at his face instead. The first one misses, but the second lands with a loud thud right on his mouth.
“Ahh!” He grunts as the hit rocks him, but when he turns back to you, the slightest bit of blood trickling from his mouth, he only looks more pleased.
You try to get him again, but he manages to catch your arms, twisting you so you’re turned around, back to his chest, with your arms subdued between your bodies. You twist and jerk and turn and struggle, whimpering and screaming to get out, eyes laser focused on a path to run towards, all the while he’s trying to say something to you.
“Hold on, little lamb, you don’t have to do this,” Titus insists. “I know about the loophole!”
That stops you in your tracks. A shaky breath escapes from your lips. He knows? He knows about the marriage clause? He’s not attacking you, he didn’t bring a weapon to this fight, and he knows...
“What about it?” You ask, just the slightest bit of hope in your tone.
Titus tilts his face into your hair, taking a long inhale of your scent. The faintest bit of whatever’s left of the expensive perfume Alex Le Domas had bought you, mixed with the blood of your kills.
“Marry me.”
The request is so soft, it’s almost inaudible. You gasp, body beginning to warm from your chest and shake. “W-what?”
“Marry me, Lamb,” Titus says again, with more authority this time. “Be my bride, be my wife, end this whole game, and I will literally give you the world.”
You swallow a lump, shaking your head. “Y-You just want that High Seat. H-How do I know you won’t do this and then lock me in some dungeon, or...or...kill me later.”
“I do want that seat, I will not lie to you,” Titus says, then suddenly turns you in his arms, gripping you tightly by the shoulders, looking down at you with a newfound intensity. “But I want you. I don’t need you to tell me how those kills felt, because I know. I know the surge of power and control, the sick delight in ending someone before they can do the same to you. You liked it. You liked how it felt, didn’t you?”
Unconsciously, you begin to nod. Your mouth drops open, and your eyes flutter at his words, at the sound of his voice, you can feel it everywhere. You can feel the heat and the wetness between your thighs, and you forget to be ashamed about it.
“Yeah. I know. I can see it in you. That’s what I want. That strength, that hunger, I feel it too. My sister and I are meant to rule this whole world, and I need someone by my side who has that strength, your beauty, your hunger for blood, your ruthlessness,” Titus purrs, pulling you closer to him. His hands slip down from your shoulders, as he feels your body start to give in to the arousal caused by his words. He slides them around to the small of your back, fingertips pressing into the blood-soaked fabric of your torn and desecrated wedding dress.
“I-I don’t know...”
“Beautiful little lamb doesn’t know her own strength. I see the monster in your heart and it looks like mine.” Titus brings one of his hands up to your cheek, where a tear has fallen. He wipes it away, and hopefully with the last of your shame for who you truly are. His perfect soulmate. “Be mine, and you’ll never have to do this again. You’ll never have to give up your power again. You'll never have to feel unsafe again.”
The arousal fully takes you over, and your eyes shut as they roll back in your head for just a moment. When Alex proposed, he did it deceitfully. He didn’t ever want to reveal the true nature of his family, and then he cast you out once he saw yours. Power was never in his offer. True love apparently never was either.
When your eyes open again, they look upon Titus Danforth with only one determination.
You surge forward, capturing his lips in a brutal, biting kiss. The taste of his blood fills your senses, metallic and addicting, you reach your long out to lick it from his chin, before connecting into a kiss again.
He welcomes it, moaning into your mouth, as your arms wrap tightly around each other. He loses himself in the kiss, swallowing all your breaths and whimpers, backing you into the stone wall, lifting you just slightly, so his hips can rut against your core.
You can feel how hard he is under his pants, and you moan at the feeling, at the fantasy of pulling them down and letting him fuck you out here like this, make you his under the moonlight.
“Yes,” you moan, both from the feeling of his strong body against you, and as your answer to the proposal. “Yes, Titus, I’ll marry you. I want that, I want everything.”
“I’ll give you the whole fucking world,” Titus pants into your mouth, rolling his hips to get any kind of friction.
It’s been so long since he’s been intimate. He’s got his select hook ups, women to satisfy his needs and gratify him, but true intimacy is not something he invites into his life often. But here under your touch, the feeling of your lips, he can’t get enough. He’s been starved for more than blood.
But there isn’t much time left in the night. If you’re not married by sunrise, this will all have been for nothing.
So regretfully, reluctantly, he tears himself away from you. You let out a needy whine at the loss of his heat, and he watches as your body contracts and shakes from the arousal.
“Oh my sweet lamb,” Titus coos, taking pity on you. He reaches back into his pocket to finally pull out his mother’s ring. His heart swells with pride at the excited gasp you let out when he slips it onto your finger. “We can’t give in to that now. We have to make it official, we have to win the game.”
The glow from the property looks like fires in your eyes, as you break into a genuine, bright, happy smile for the first time since you said your first set of vows to Alex Le Domas.
+
The drive back to the Lodge is filled with an undercurrent of buzzing tension between you and Titus, as Ursula chatters the whole way there about how excited she is.
“Don’t get me wrong, it was very fun watching you rip everyone apart, those other families have been so fucking annoying, but I prefer the glamor of a wedding over a hunt any day,” she rattles on, delightfully unaware of you and Titus mostly ignoring her in the back.
They aren’t worried about staying quiet, as most of the other eligible hunters are dead, and the ones who are left know they could never stand a chance at winning a fight against the Danforth Twins.
Once back at the Lodge, the Lawyer approves of the new plan, and begins calling upon extended family members of the High Council, as well as lower families under Mr. Le Bail’s contract, to attend the ceremony. It won’t be as grand or as long as your first wedding, only a few hours until sunset and all that, but Titus and Ursula assured you it will be twice as romantic.
Ursula takes you up to one of the guest quarters, and passes you to the care of servants. “I have the perfect dress for a Dark Wedding you can borrow! Well, you can have it, actually, I have a feeling I’m not going to want it back after you and Titus are done...doing whatever weird shit you’re going to do later.”
She leaves with a cackling laugh, as the group of servants help you strip out of your blood covered clothes. Your shoes are sent downstairs for cleaning, they start to toss your tights and your underwear into the lit fireplace, but you stop them before they can throw your dress into the flames.
“Wait! I-I want to keep that,” you say, earning a raised brow from the girl holding the dress. You shrug. Maybe it’s silly, but that dress...it was meant to represent your happily ever after, the end to your life of living paycheck to paycheck in loneliness, the start of having a real family. But now...as much as the sight of it should sicken you, it represents your ability to survive, your resilience. “It has sentimental value.”
She simply nods and drapes the dress over the back of one of the Victorian chairs.
Your bare feet patter into the bathroom across the cold, dark tile, to the gold, footed bath that waits on the other end. The servants help you step into the warm water and turn on the overhead faucet. Water rains down on you, as servants begin to clean away the blood and grime from the last two days. Lavender and Gardenia scents fill your nose, and you hum pleasurably as for the first time since your rehearsal dinner, you feel your body completely relax.
After your bath the servants dry you off, massage lotion onto every inch of your skin, as well as healing salves onto your wounds, and fix up your hair and makeup, while you sit in a white robe made of the softest material that has ever graced your skin. Underneath of which you’re adorned in a black lace and satin lingerie set, which is probably more expensive than any underwear you’ve ever owned combined.
It’s not long until Ursula returns, wearing a long black strapless dress, with a garment bag in one hand and a large hatbox in the other, shooing the servants out of the room for your privacy. Her smile grows as she sniffs around the room, eyes widening when she realizes the sweet smell is coming from you.
“Well, that certainly is an improvement!” She chirps, tossing the box on the bed and clapping her hands excitedly after you take the garment bag. “You smell like Mother’s garden, no doubt Titus’s choice.”
“Thank you?”
“Oh, trust me, it’s a very good thing. We don’t have many memories of Mother, she died when we were so young, but her garden at the Rhode Island estate has been kept up to her standards and preferences by our groundskeeper all this time. Father...” Ursula’s voice trails off as the smile falls from just her eyes for a moment. But after a quick twitch of her neck, it reaches her eyes once more. “Well, I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any say over how to upkeep your family’s home,” you say.
“It’s your family home now too, Little Dove,” Ursula reminds you.
A small breath gets caught in your throat. “I-I’ve never had...”
As your voice fades, Ursula’s ever present smirk turns down into something more sincere. “A family home? A family?”
You nod, giving her a shrug. “I haven’t lived the easiest life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, this weekend has been the worst of it, but...I guess that’s why I got through. I always just...get through it all, no matter what, by any means necessary.”
“You fight.”
I win. Is the thought that crosses your mind and...it’s so much more direct of a voice than you’re used to. What is this thing that has emerged from the darkest recesses of your heart?
“I do what I need,” You say instead, stepping behind a partition to change. “It will be nice to, um, just do what I want.”
“Oh, and you will.”
As you change, Ursula starts to pace around the room, fingers running over the dark wood of the molding on the walls. She clicks her teeth nervously, eyes darting to the door, before she locks it. “That actually brings me to something important I wanted to talk to you about. Before the ceremony and all that.”
“Okay,” you say nervously, shoulders tightening from the change in her tone.
“It’s my brother, you see. I love him very much, we’ve been together our whole lives, but he’s...he’s not the kindest of men,” she starts to explain, approaching the partition so she can lower her voice. “You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me when I say I have never seen him react to any woman the way he did the first time he saw you. No, see...he can be quite the violent man. He wasn’t allowed to release that side tonight, but after you officially join the family, you’ll learn everything. You’ll be able to watch footage of past rituals, if you wanted.”
A sick thrill shoots up your spine at the idea. He was holding back today, only got to see you at your most monstrous, and the thought that there could be footage of him. Your hands start to shake as they pull the dress up your body.
What kind of sounds does he make when he lands a killing blow? What does the flex of his arms look like when he swings a heavy weapon at his prey? How handsome is he covered in someone else’s blood, chest heaving, looking down at them like a bug he’s about to squish...
“Anyway,” Ursula continues, breaking you out of your thoughts. “The reason I’m bringing all this up is because, well, I want you and I to be a team, of sorts. Truthfully, I will admit I was a little worried about the whole ‘running the world with my psycho brother’ thing. Don’t get me wrong, I do love him, but I’ve had to reign him in our whole lives. Now with you...I think that job will be much easier.”
“You want me to help you control him?” You asks suspiciously. A tightness forms in your chest. You don’t want to control this man who has just seen you at your own least controlled and loved it. He wants to save you, even after seeing your darkest of tendencies. How could you turn on him and not love him the same in return?
“No! No it’s not about control!” Ursula says, frustration in her tone. Her fingers grip at her temples, as she lets out a ragged sigh. “It’s the opposite, really. I don’t want to have to keep him in check anymore, but now that we have you, I don’t think we’ll have to. You’ll give him some light in his life, someone to care about do the right thing for, without having to be told to.
We are about to control everything, have the most power in the world, do you have any idea what that means? Tides will rise and fall at our whims, wars will begin and end at our words. Titus...well, before you, I thought he could use this power to possibly just destroy the world, which would be so boring and pointless.”
You brush down the fabric of the black dress, pulling it into place around your body, as you let out a sigh. When you step back around the partition, Ursula’s hand falls from her face, and her jaw drops.
“Wow, you clean up very good,” she says as her eyes rake down your body.
The black wedding gown fits you perfectly, long bell sleeves and mermaid tail making you look like some sort of demonic beauty from an old painting. You get a look at yourself in the long mirror at the other end of the room, and you know all at once that this is so much better than the white lacy thing you’d worn yesterday. You feel yourself stand up straighter, hold yourself higher. This is right. This is your true self.
Ursula has the lightest tears pricking the corners of her eyes, as she takes your hands in hers, thumb tapping her mother’s ring that sits fitting perfectly on your left hand.
“How do you want me to help with Titus then? Just when I can be free, I have to live my life only for him?” You ask expectantly.
“Live your life for yourself, but don’t be afraid of him. Show him what the point of all this is, what happiness truly is. He sees something in you, and I think I'm starting to understand as well. That ruthlessness I saw from you on the field? Fuck, even I was kind of into it. I have never seen him give a shit for anyone outside our family like I have seen him care for you tonight.
He was distraught at the idea that we would have to kill you, and when that loophole was revealed, I saw a fire ignite in him I have never seen before. I truly don’t think anything will quell the brutality that he has in his soul, but maybe you can help me direct it. You're getting a piece of this power too. Embrace it.”
You’re taken aback by her words. You barely know this man. You don’t know him at all really, but from what she describes...you know you feel that way too. He has seen inside your soul and loved it, and with the tiniest glimpses of his, you know you could love him as well. This is the life meant for you. Everything before, all the hurt and the pain and the loneliness, the drifting through aimlessly, all the questioning of it all has been answered by him. With this offer of joining and creating the most powerful family in the world.
“I can do that, I want to... I want to be happy, for once. And Titus...” You squeeze her hands tight, biting your lip to hold in your smile. “I think we can make each other very happy.”
“Good,” Ursula says with a satisfied smile. “Here,” she reaches behind her neck to unlatch the silver pentagram pendant that sits there. “You need something borrowed.” She steps into your space, nose to your cheek as she secures the clasp around your own neck, before settling her hands on your shoulders in a tight hug. “I always wanted a sister. Between Titus and Father, it’s been difficult being the only woman at the top of the family. You and I are going to make a great team.”
You give her a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, as she finally lifts the lid of the hatbox. Your eyes widen as she lifts a black crown, encrusted with red jewels, and attached to a long black veil. The final piece to complete your ceremonial ensemble.
The time for the Dark Wedding has come.
+
Ursula leads you down to the basement of the Lodge, where floor to ceiling dark wood doors, engraved with a giant pentagram, are opened by two servants in dark purple robes, the hoods covering their faces. You’re lead down a stone stairwell, into a dark Chamber, lit with orange fire on pilons carved into the shape of goat heads.
The witnesses, members of other families, are all in their own purple robes with hidden faces, but you can still feel their eyes on you as you walk past. You can feel the envy radiating from them. Some want to kill you for their own seat on the High Council, some want to steal you away to marry you themselves. Several of the women wish it was them who would be called Titus Danforth’s Bride. But they knew there was nothing they could do when you and Titus had Mr. Le Bail’s blessing.
You had won the game. At last.
At the other end, sits a lavish alter complete with a statue of Mr. Le Bail hanging from above, goat head motifs carved into the stonework of the wall, and an alter table covered in books, black candles, and several ceremonial supplies. The Lawyer stands behind the table in an ornate black gown, wearing a smile and a horned headdress.
In his hands is the contract book the Hunters had to sign. The book of rules Mr. Le Bail set forth for his rituals and games. He gives you a nod as you descend toward him.
Next to him is Titus, who sucks in a breath, eyes soft and needy at the sight of you.
“You’re beautiful, Little Lamb,” he says in a low voice.
He’s in dark layered clothes, a gray ascot around his neck, and black hunter’s boots, with his hands crossed in front of him. His mouth drops open, eyes wide, chest visibly rising and falling as his eyes never leave the deep, penetrating stare into yours.
You feel your heart beat speed up, you imagine the sound of it echoing off the walls. Your tongue darts out to lick at your bottom lip, and that’s the only moment that Titus’s eyes linger to anywhere else.
Ursula guides you up the steps of the alter, taking her place behind you as, the Lawyer hands you and Titus matching silver bands. The Lawyer instructs you both to put them on each other, then takes your left hand in his.
“We gather here under the light of the full moon, surrounded by the fires provided by Mr. Le Bail, so join these two souls in eternal connection.”
He brings your hand close to him, and with a sharp, black blade he etches a small cut on the lower part of your palm. Your eyes stay on Titus who looks on with delight as you don’t even flinch. A few droplets or your blood are spilled into an ornate gold goblet, and the Lawyer directs you to keep your hand out as he repeats the action with Titus’s left hand.
One the blood is mixed in the goblet, the Lawyer brings your hands together, matching the wounds so your blood joins his, and you hiss at the touch. Not at the pain, no. There is no pain.
You hiss from the sudden electric spark that bursts out as your soul is connected to his. Your lips drop open, your eyes flutter, and Titus gently jerks you closer to him as his fingers intertwine with yours.
The Lawyer wraps a black silk scarf around both of your hands and ties it off, keeping you two locked together, before picking the goblet up and holding it above you with both his hands.
“Do you swear on Satan’s name to take Mr. Titus Chester Danforth to be yours, through fires of hell in this life and the next?”
“I swear.” You say without hesitation, your voice barely yours, distant and echoing as your eyes hood over, and you feel Titus tug you ever closer, until your breath mixes with his. “I promise to be yours.”
You watch his lips twitch up in a smile, almost like a little boy who opened the one singular present he wanted on his birthday. Has he been dreaming of you? Have you been his wish since before he knew you were waiting?
“Do you swear on Satan’s name to take the former Mrs. Le Domas to be yours, through the fires of hell in this life and the next?”
A needy squeal escapes your mouth as you are suddenly jerked forward, hard, so your body is met right up against the hard muscle of Titus’s. He towers over, looking down with a hunger he knows is finally going to be sated. His lips are hairs away from yours as he says his vows. “I swear. I will never let another person touch you, harm you. I will never let your power be taken again. I swear to give you the world. All of it.”
The Lawyer hands you both a matching set of black and gold pens and opens Mr. Le Bail’s book to an empty page. You watch as flames appear on the paper, writing out your contract to both Le Bail and the Danforth family. You feel a stinging in your hand as you bring the pen down to the page, a moment of hesitation.
You’re about to sell your soul. For all the power over the world. For a marriage to a man who sort of scares you but thrills you more than anyone you’ve ever met in your life.
But what even was your life before, anyway? Lonely, poor, an upbringing of abuse, no sense of a real family or home? You can have everything. You will have everything.
You sign the page. Titus signs immediately after, with much less hesitation. None, actually.
“By the all mighty powers of Satan, Lucifer, Mr. Le Bail, you two are now one. The Danforth Family is therefore restored to the High Seat, to be shared by you three.”
A surprised smirk flashes over Titus’s face. It doesn’t even fall when the Lawyer hands Mr. Le Bail’s gold ring to Ursula, who slips it onto her middle finger with a pleased expression.
You hadn’t been expecting that. Of course the twins would share as they are both head of the family, but you...of course. You’re the matriarch of the Danforths. If heirs to the family are to be made, they would come through you. In giving yourself to Titus, to the contract of Mr. Le Bail, you have gained all the power of the world.
“You may kiss your Bride. Hail Satan!”
Titus surges forward, capturing your lips in his with a deep moan, as the other families chant in celebration of your dark union. His grip on your hand tightens, as his other one slips around your back, sliding down to the curve of your ass. You whimper into the kiss, biting at his bottom lip, as your own hand goes to the back of his neck, tugging roughly at the little curls of his hair.
The sound of Ursula’s excited clapping breaks you from your stupor, reminding you both of your audience. In truth, Titus would take you right now, tear your clothes into shreds and fuck you on the alter right in front of everyone and Mr. Le Bail himself.
He and Ursula never thought they would marry. It all seemed too complicated with the deadly rituals involved. Why get attached to someone outside the family when they may have to hunt them? When they had each other anyway? Father always emphasized the importance of keeping power in their family’s hands.
But now Titus has you. Truly has you. You belong to him and he belongs to you as well.
His hunger has only grown. His need to show you what a good husband he can be, how you have given this power to the right man, to the right family. He wants to take you in every way, show you what true pleasure can be. Erase any memory you have of that stupid Le Domas boy who couldn’t find the wits to see what value you hold. Who was afraid of the monster you have inside.
Titus has no desire to tame that monster. He wants to free her.
You breathe into each other’s mouths as the kiss is finally broken, and he turns triumphantly to the witnesses.
“Hail Satan!”
The chants continue, as Ursula giggles behind you. “Awe, you two are so cute. And kind of gross. But I’m happy for you!”
“I’m happy for all of us,” you say, taking one of her hands in yours.
The Lawyer unwraps you and Titus from the silk, and offers the scarf to Titus, who takes it with a slight wink your direction. You can only imagine the dirty plans he has for that later. You want to know. You wish you could read into his mind and see everything he wants from you, to show you all over your most depraved fantasies as well.
Titus leans down, placing a kiss just under your ear, the scratching of his stubble sends a tingle of excitement through your skin. “Are you ready, Little Lamb?”
You don’t trust your voice to not give away to everyone just how needy and desperate you are for him, though that kiss might have been evidence enough. You bite your lip and nod as your response, and allow him to whisk you away.
+
Your journey to Titus’s quarters on the top floor is buzzing with promise and arousal. You can feel yourself dripping between your thighs as he pushes you up against the wall of the elevator, and you lean up expecting a kiss, but are met with his hand to your throat instead.
The way your eyes light up is like you’ve passed some test with him. He isn’t squeezing or anything, just holding you there with a strong hand around your neck. His breath is hot on yours, lips just out of reach for a kiss, his eyes blown out dark but hooded. You can see him holding back, can feel it in the tension of his body up against yours.
His free hand trails down between your bodies, petting down the soft fabric of your wedding dressing over your belly, then between your legs. Your breath hitches, then releases in a soft moan as he presses two fingers forward, and even through two layers of fabric he can feel how wet you are. His face breaks into a smile
“This new, or have I left you like this since the woods, my little Lamb?” His voice is rough, a deep, sexy tone filled with teasing.
“S-since the woods,” you say honestly. Why lie? When you know you’re about to get exactly what you want?
“Fuck,” Titus groans. “What a terrible man I am, leaving my sweet girl in this state for all this time.”
You let out a breathless laugh, reaching between your bodies to grip at the hard bulge you’ve felt against your leg. “And what a terrible wife I am to have left you like this.”
He grunts, pushing his hips into your hand, curving his fingers up at the same time, and catching your whine into his mouth.
The elevator dings, interrupting the heat of the moment.
His hand leaves your neck and before you know it, you’ve been swept up in his strong arms, as he carries you to the bedroom. You laugh, peppering kisses all over the side of his face, and once you’re through the threshold, you squirm out of his grasp, grabbing at him anywhere you can to take him to the bed. You yelp as the backs of your knees hit the end, sending you toppling backwards on the soft mattress. You ruck your dress up to let him step between your legs, but he stops you once it reaches your waist.
“Don’t rush, my lamb, don’t rush,” Titus says with an amused laugh, kneeling with one leg on the bed. “We can go slow. We have forever now, and you...you’ve been through a lot in two days.”
“Fuck that,” you scoff, scratching your hands up his chest. “Last night, well the other night, after the wedding with Alex, I was expecting to get fucked good. And instead, I got almost killed. A lot. Now I’m a newly wed again, and I won’t have this wedding night unsatisfied again.”
Titus’s brow raises, Amusing. His fingers brush into your hair, gentle at first, until they grip tight and pull your head back, exposing your neck to him. “You want to get fucked good?”
“Yes.” Your voice is desperate, broken, filled with a desire you’re pretty sure you’re experiencing for the first time. Your nails dig into his jacket, fuck all these stupid layers, and you shove it down his shoulders. You rip through his clothes, delighting at the sounds of seams tearing, tossing fabric every which way until you’ve got him in nothing but his pants, finally giving you a view of his strong body.
He’s built exactly as you thought, all toned muscle and thick arms, light skin littered with freckles like stars in the night sky. He’s beautiful. You want to bite him all over, latch your teeth to every part of his chest until the indents never leave, until you’ve scarred him as your own. You want him to do the same to you.
He pulls you back into another biting kiss, his sharp teeth latch onto your bottom lip, you moan at the feeling of the skin breaking, and the metallic sourness of your blood fills your mouth. Titus groans, sucking on your lip to drink it, as his hands slide up your back, to the clasp on your dress. It catches, and he lets out a frustrated sound halfway between and grunt and a whine, as he starts to tear the dress apart.
“Mmm!” you whine, pulling back from the kiss, lips red and swollen and eyes wet, your eyeliner and mascara starting to run. You’re filthy already, and Titus meets your look with an animalistic grin. But you simply pout. “Don’t ruin the dress, Ti.”
“I can buy you ten more exactly like it, it’s in my fucking way.”
“You’re not ruining this one,” you spit back. He doesn’t get it, but you know you have the old wedding dress, stained with a dozen people’s blood, waiting in your room. Maybe you’ll put them both on display in wherever it is you’re going to live now, as a shrine to your power, your win of both games. “It has sentimental value to me now.”
Before he has the chance to argue again, you use your strength to lock your legs around him, and force him around on his back on the bed. You sit up straight, straddling his lap, and you can feel his dick twitch even through his pants below you. His chest rises with a deep breath, wild smile breaking out on his face, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“Fuck, you’re so strong, that’s the girl I saw out there,” Titus says in amazement.
You look down proudly. No man you’ve ever been with has looked at you like this, spoken of you like this, like you’re something sacred, something to be worshipped. Hell, you’re not even the same person any of those stupid boys dealt with. Something awoke in you over this weekend, something can never be sent to slumber again.
“Do not ruin my wedding dress, Mr. Danforth.”
His lips purse together, holding down a smirk, and he looks up at you through his brow, impatiently, boyishly...bratty. “Whatever you say, Mrs. Danforth.”
The name excites you more than you thought it would.
You reach up behind your back, finding the clasp of your dress, and your nimble fingers are able to easily break it open. You grin as you watch Titus’s mouth fall open. He looks simply parched. There’s something very arousing about having such a powerful and dangerous man hungry and desperate beneath you.
“Help me with the zipper? Gently.” You ask with a pout. He gives a subtle nod to his head, sitting up straight as his hands find their way to your back, sliding the zipper down slowly.
Titus groans at the sight of your tits nearly spilling out of the satin bra, and he can feel the drool start to form under his tongue. He wants to bite them, he wants to suck on your nipples while you bounce on his cock.
You shimmy the sleeves of the dress down off your arms, and then direct his hands to pull the dress up off of your body, before you carefully toss the dress to a chaise off to the side.
“You’re so beautiful,” Titus says, almost unconsciously, voice soft and breathless as his eyes wander over the view of your body. His fingertips trace over your skin where dark bruises and healing cuts are littered. The evidence of your ability to survive, proof that you are the woman worthy of Titus Danforth, of the whole world. Still, it bothers Titus to see such damage done to his bride. “If I could kill them all over again for doing this to you, I would.”
“Careful, this one,” You warn in a playful tone, pointing to a light scratch on your rib, “was caused by your sister.”
Titus cringes. “Well, it will never happen again, not by our hands.”
You pout. “But what if I want you to mark me up?”
His eyes snap up to yours, hips jerking up unexpectedly. “Lamb...”
“What?” You whine. “What if I want you to scratch me, and bite me, and mark me as yours?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to continue, before you know it, you’re the one on your back again, with Titus kissing and licking his way down your body, over every remnant of your fights. He bites his way through your bra, sharp teeth ripping it in half, and you gasp, cunt aching at the show of desperation. The sound he lets out at the sight of your bare breasts, can only be described as devastatingly hungry.
He licks his lips before latching onto your left breast, sucking on your nipple, biting it lightly, pulling needy whimpers from your lips. When he pinches the other one between his fingers, you release a high pitched moan, and you can feel a spike of heat between your legs, juices drip on your thighs.
“Oh fuck, Titus,” you whimper, one hand flying to grip onto his curls, the other slamming on the bed, fingers twisting in the soft sheet, doing anything to find purchase to ground you.
He moans around you, and your back arches up into him as he tugs your nipple with his teeth before releasing, only to repeat the same actions on your other one. He’d stay here all night if he wasn’t so desperate to fuck you, to devour you in every way.
His hand dips between your legs when he feels them start to shake, slipping into the lace panties, and he groans into your skin at the wetness he finds. It coats his fingers, already dripping through your panties and practically pooling on the bed.
It takes him a second to rip your panties to pieces, unwrapping his prize.
“There she is,” he mumbles, voice filled with awe.
“Titus,” you groan, sitting up on your elbows. “You said you were going to fuck me.”
And he loves your impatience, your petulance. You’re so much like him.
Titus doesn’t quicken his actions, though, he’s not ready to get rid of that frustrated fire in your eyes. He doesn’t feel like it. Instead he slinks down the bed, grabbing you roughly by the ankles to yank your body down with him. He laughs at the small yelp you let out, at the widening of your eyes at his show of strength, and then throws your legs donw to grab your wrists instead.
“You think you’re going to tell me what to do?” His voice isn’t as playful as before.
But he’s not met with fear from you, exactly as he expected. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
You look up at him with even more hunger and determination than before. When he releases your wrists, you make quick work of his pants, nipping and biting at his lower stomach, humming into his skin.
He helps you strip him of the last of his layers, and your heart skips when you finally get the full look at him, at his thick cock that’s already leaking at the tip. Your pussy clenches, your nails scratch hard down his strong thighs, digging into the skin enough to leave angry red lines, and you kind of want to run them down again, cut him open, lick up his blood on your way to his cock.
But he tips you up with two fingers under your chin, waiting until you look into his eyes again before he wraps that hand around your jaw. He brushes his thumb over the cut on your lip, then dips it into your mouth. Your pupils are blown black as you suck on him, wishing it was his cock filling your throat instead.
“I’m not a gentle man.”
“Good.” And you hardly recognize your own voice, wanton and syrupy and needy. You’ve only just learned how much you love when it isn’t gentle, when you’re pushed to the limits of your body. You need him to make you feel that way again. “Don’t be gentle. Take me, Titus, like in the woods. I know you were holding back. Fuck me like you want to, like I’m yours.”
“You are fucking mine,” he snarls, shoving your head back, then follows it up by quickly turning you onto your stomach.
He crawls over your body, kicking your legs apart, and pushing down on your lower back until you’re arched beautifully for him, ass in the air, pussy dripping and clenching from the emptiness.
There’s fresh scabs on your back, from where you’d scratched it open on the metal gate as you’d tried to escape the Le Domas property in your first wedding. Titus’s hand covers them completely, and you moan in a combination of pain and pleasure as he grips you hard enough to leave a bruise. The shape his hand covers the marks caused by others, he’ll reshape every wound into a mark of love from him
“Please,” you whine, voice muffled slightly by the sheet. “Please, Titus, just fu—ahh!”
He cuts you off with the rough slamming of his cock inside, every inch filling you instantly, until you feel his hips against you. “What was that, Baby?”
You don’t have it in you to snark back to him, not when you finally feel so full. All you can respond with is a stilted, broken scream into the bed, as Titus pulls out and then fucks back in, slow rough strokes that take your breath away.
But that won’t do for Titus, he wants to hear you, wants to know how good he makes you feel. As he starts to fuck you harder, quicken his pace, he grabs you by the back of your head, turning so your cheek is pressed to the bed instead, and every sound you make echoes around the room.
“That’s it, little Lamb, let me hear you,” Titus groans. His fingers rake down your back, over every bruise, as he fucks you at a brutal pace.
All you can do is scream, eyes running with tears, body on a sweet, delicious fire, as you allow yourself to be used, to just feel, everything.
With one hand, Titus grabs your arms and twists them behind your back locking you in, completely at his mercy. With the other he reaches between your legs, rubbing at your clit. “Tell me how much you like it.”
“Fuck,” you whine, the new angle it creates on your body sending bolts of pleasure up your spine. You still don’t really know what’s come over you, what thing has woken inside you, what insatiable hungry envelopes your very soul, but you feel in this moment that Titus is the only one who could ever feed it. “Fucking, love it.”
You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling, can feel it in the tone of his voice when he responds, “Yeah, that’s fucking right. Tell me.”
He rubs circles on your clit, leans down to kiss up your spine, settling on your shoulder where his teeth bite down, hard, the skin breaking as you moan. He licks at the wound, sucking on it until a red and angry mark is left.
“Love the way your cock feels,” you whimper, “Feel so fucking full. Feel...oh fuck I’m gonna—"
Your legs start to shake, vision blurring as ultimate pleasure over takes you, and with a shout of his name, you’re coming, cunt clenching down on his cock as he fucks you through it. Your shouts turn into light grunts, Titus doesn’t let up for a second, as wave after wave of your orgasm rushes through your body.
For a moment, you think you might pass out, only his voice comes in close to your ear, anchoring you to reality. “That’s it Little Lamb, give in to me.”
The warmth of his body leaves as you start to come back to yourself, and he sits up, fingers leaving your overstimulated clit to grab your ass instead. His eyes dart down, watching where his cock enters your body, mesmerized by his own movements.
He’s distracted, you can tell, studying the way you feel inside, how your pussy welcomes him, warm and wet, fitting him like a glove. Has he ever had it this good?
You start to struggle against his grip, and finally manage to get your arms out of his grasp, and you twist your torso, grabbing him by the chin to pull him into a snarling kiss. You want to show him you can fuck him good too, you can free all the tension from his body with pleasure.
Your hand comes down on his cheek in a crackling slap! and the shock of it sends him reeling. He pulls out, falling back with a wild smile, mouth red from your blood, and your body shivers with glee. You go to hit him again, but he catches you, pulling you towards him, mouth latching onto your neck. You let him kiss you there, suck another mark into your skin over one left by someone else, but when he goes to move again, you scratch down his chest.
The nails finally break the skin and he groans at the feeling, puffing out his chest for you to do it again. He’s just as much yours as you are his, after all.
“Yeah, Baby, mark me up.” Titus pants, an adorable pink blush crawls up his skin.
But you have other plans. You slap him again, giggling at the petulant smile he gives you. Instead of scratching him up, like he so clearly wants, you use all of your strength to shove his body down on the bed.
He looks absolutely delighted when you climb on his lap, and he reaches up to grab you, but you fight to press his wrists to the bed. His hips jerk up, cock leaking out, your strength driving him wild. This is what he wanted, this is who he imagined watching the footage of you besting your would-be murderers.
“Stay,” you command, voice low and dark, as you release his wrists.
The expression on his face as he willfully does what he’s told, as you sink down onto his cock again, can only be described as animalistic, devoted.
You whimper as you sink down, until you’re all the way on his lap, and the tow of you moan in unison. You test a roll of your hips, gasping at the feeling, pressing your hands onto Titus’s strong chest for balance.
“Touch me,” you request in a whisper, starting a slow pace.
Titus doesn’t need to be told twice, hands flying to your hips as he plants his feet, meeting your every movement. He grunts at each upward thrust of his hips, eyes darting between yours and the slight bounce of your tits. There’s already hickeys forming around your nipples, and he licks his lips at the thought of making more.
All he wants is more, wants his hands everywhere, his mouth and his tongue and his teeth, wants to devour you. A small part of him wants to tear up every shrine in the Danforth homes to rebuild them all to you.
“Love the way your hands feel,” You whimper, guiding those very hands to grab your breasts, as you roll your hips down onto his cock. “So strong, so rough, wish I could see what you can really do with them. Wish you were allowed to kill those fuckers out in the game today.”
“Believe me, fuck,” Titus groans, snapping his hips up into you. “I would have torn them apart to get to you. Would have ripped their limbs off and bathed in their blood to get to you.”
“Fuck,” your body speeds up, pussy clenching at the thought. Your mind races and your voice is breathless as you moan out, “I want to see it. I want to see you feral and brutal. Fuck, Titus, wanna see you fight for me.”
He rears up at your words, bringing your chest to his face as you bounce on his cock. “I’d kill a hundred people for you, my baby.”
You rake your fingers through his hair, whimpering when his mouth finds your nipple again, and you hiss when he bites down. You claw at his back, and you know the skin is breaking at the way Titus hisses into your skin. You kiss his temple, down his cheek, and then dip your tongue into his mouth.
And there’s a moment, the two of you breathing deep into each other’s mouths, eyes blown dark and wide and staring deeply into each other’s souls, where everything fades away. It’s nothing but heat and fire and blood and you feel...powerful. You feel valued. You feel loved.
Titus licks up from your chest to your neck, the trail of his tongue leaving goosebumps in its path. “I’d burn this whole world down for you.”
You suck in a breath, body going still. Those words more than anything, with the real power behind them, should terrify you. They should be the final straw to break you out of this trance, to stop all this and fucking run.
But you kiss Titus instead, moaning and whimpering into his mouth, holding him tight and close, as your bodies mold into one. He flips you over, back landing on the bed, and he pushes your legs practically up to your ears.
Everything from there is a blur of biting and licking and screaming. He leaves angry marks all over your neck and your chest, while you bite and scratch him all over in return. Your cries of pleasure echo through the halls of the Lodge, probably keeping up every single person who dared to stay the night. Your throat is filled with a scratchy pain from the screams, but there’s nothing you can do to stop them.
Titus’s hand roughly grasps your face, keeping your eyes on him as he fucks you harder. “Wanna come again, little lamb?”
“Yes, please,” you cry out, body contracting, back arching.
And he cracks a satisfied grin at just how lost in it you are. But Titus knows he hasn’t got much more hold left in him, it’s taken everything in him to hold it out this long. He reaches his hand down between your legs, fucking your harder as he rubs your clit, swallowing every whimper and moan you release into his mouth.
“Come on, baby,” Titus grunts, losing his rhythm. “Come for me. Give me what I want.”
Your vision whites out again, hands gripping hard to his biceps, leaving moon shaped indents into his pink skin. “Titus—”
“Yeah,” Titus pants into your mouth, hand slipping to wrap around your throat, pride and pleasure swelling in his belly when you clench around his cock. “Yeah.”
With one final scream, your body convulses, juices spurting from your pussy as your second orgasm of the night rips through you, heightening every touch that remains from your husband. Your eyes roll back until they shut, tears prickling the edges.
“Fuck, that’s it, that’s what I fucking want,” Titus moans. He can’t stop the loud, whiny chants that escape from his mouth as he fucks you through it. “Gonna come, little lamb, gonna make you mine.”
He braces himself with one hand on the bed, as he suddenly pulls out, crying out your name as he jerks his cock, moaning as he finally lets himself come, thick ropes of spunk decorating your tummy, marking you for the final time.
The whole world slows down for a moment, only the sounds of your breaths filling your ears. When you finally open your eyes, he’s looking down at you the same as he has all day, like you are the answer to every prayer he’s sold his soul for.
Titus leans down, placing an almost too gentle kiss to your cheek. “Told you I’d be the one to get you.”
Tears flow down your cheeks, tracks circling around the sleepy, giddy smile you’re left with. You feel absolutely spent, almost floating away, every part of you that was marked by Titus’s teeth and hands and tongue is glowing.
He’s still holding himself above you with one hand firmly on the bed, bicep flexed from the effort of strength, and he looks just as fucked out as you. His gaze glides down your body, taking inventory of every place he made you his.
“Titus,” you finally whine, wanting his full attention back. Your voice is raw, throat sore from the screaming. “That was—"
“Shh,” he hushes, finally letting himself fall to the side, resting on his elbow, while his fingers ghost over your skin. “I know, Baby, but take it easy for me.”
You hum and nod, curling up into his side. You feel him turn away for a moment, and look up to see him on his phone, expression impatient and stern.
“Run a bath, hot but not scorching, same things you used before, and I better not see any of you in there. Set it up then get the fuck out. Thank you.”
You raise a brow. “What was that?”
“Wanna take care of you, but don’t wanna be disturbed. They don’t get to see my new wife like this,” Titus says, and at first you think he’s playing, but the look in his eye says he means business. He’s not sharing any part of you with anyone tonight.
“You’re so considerate,” you say, sitting up to give him a kiss. “I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked that good.”
His lips press into a proud smirk. “Well, get used to it, Little Lamb. I don’t ever do anything halfway.”
It’s not long until he gets the notification that your bath is ready, and he carries you all the way across the hall to the lavish bathroom, even fancier than the one you’d been bathed in before your wedding.
He carefully places you down in the water, in bathtub that might as well be called a mini pool, and grabs the same soaps and salves that had been used to clean away your wounds earlier. His rough, calloused hands, that had held you down and gripped you so hard they left heavier bruises, were miraculously gentle as they wiped you down.
You’re both quiet as he cleans you, stripping away any final remnants of injuries you’d acquired from the others, leaving only memories of the ones he’d left in pleasure. You almost wonder how this man, who touches you like some precious treasure, can do such brutal things. You can’t wait to see how.
As he finishes up your care, and takes you back to bed, the final lingering thought on your mind, as you fall asleep in his arms, is that this brute, this dangerous, violent man, is all yours.
+
You can’t think of the last time you had a full service breakfast in bed.
Actually, no, you’ve never had this.
Just as you were waking up, nude body covered in bruises and scratch marks and love bites, hidden mostly by the black silk sheet of Titus’s bed, a row of servants trailed in with silver serving carts of just about every classic breakfast food you could imagine.
The smell is what stirs you, and you hum as you rub the sleep from your eyes, smiling up at Titus who is already sitting up against the headboard. His body is mostly on display, modesty only barely covered by the corner of the sheet, but he’s got a leg propped up, elbow resting on his knee, and he’s lighting a cigar as he directs the servants where to leave everything.
“Good morning, Mrs. Danforth,” Titus muses, tapping the ashes off the end of the cigar into a crystal plate sitting on his bedside table.
“Good morning, Mr. Danforth,” you smile sleepily up at him, left hand crawling up his chest.
The sheet slips off your body, so more of your bare back shows to the last servant still on his way out of the room, and Titus’s smile falls into a scowl when he catches the servant’s eyes rake up and down your bare skin. “Leave.”
The servant’s eyes widen in fear, and they scurry quickly out of the room, shutting the door behind them. You chuckle, tapping your fingers over the still angry bite marks on Titus’s neck. “You know, I’m pretty sure everyone in the whole compound heard us last night—well, this morning.”
“Fine with me,” Titus says triumphantly, then echoes his words from last night. “But that doesn’t mean they get to see it.”
“You’re a very jealous man, aren’t you?” You ask, settling up next to him, peppering kisses to his neck and cheek. “Don’t like it when others play with your toys?”
He blows out the smoke of the cigar away from you, smirking. “You’re not a toy, Little Lamb.”
“Don’t you forget it,” you hum. You plant a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, before rolling over to survey your many breakfast options. “Wow, it’s so fancy, it’s like I’m at a hotel.”
“It is a hotel, my dear,” Titus chuckles, but he’s not teasing or patronizing you, no, he’s showing off.
“Oh right,” you say with a shrug, settling on a piece of toast with strawberry jam to start with.
Titus’s eyes watch the way the jam runs down your chin, and how your tongue licks it up, a chill running through him as it reminds him of your blood filled kisses from last night.
“So, where should we go tonight?” He asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” he grunts, stamping out the cigar on the plate, and scooting down the bed to join you, to take back some of your body heat again. “We’re newly weds,” he starts, pressing soft kisses to the back of your shoulder. “And as unconventional as our matrimony may be, we still get a honeymoon, don’t we?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Titus clicks his tongue. “No, no, no, this is about what you want. We can go anywhere you wish, and we can honeymoon for as long as you like. Let Ursula handle the exchange of power, that’s the boring part anyway.”
A giddy smile forms on your face. “Well, I was looking forward to the Le Domas ancestral home in France that Alex was going to take me to. And I believe it is legally mine now.”
“Little Lamb, even if it wasn’t yours, I would make it.”
“Hmm,” you smile, licking some of the jam off your spoon before meeting his lips in a kiss. “There is something else...Alex had promised we’d join the mile high club on our way there. I know you just said you’re not much into public sex...”
“Actually, I said I don’t want people to see you,” Titus retorts, licking the little bit of jam that had trickled onto your chin. “So, thank the devil you now own several private jets, I think that wish can be fulfilled.”
Your cunt pulses at the thought, thighs twitching and rubbing together. The fact that only days ago, the idea of you on a private jet, sipping champagne and getting fucked out of your mind by some hot, rich older man would have just been a fantasy. Now it’s your whole itinerary for the evening.
“I’m so glad I chose you,” you muse, running your fingers into his soft, silver hair. Not just for the riches, but the freedom. The ability to do whatever you want, be whatever you truly are, and have a man who is obsessed with you for it.
“As am I,” Titus says, as though he can read your mind. Giving you the world isn’t a metaphor for him, after all.
“I’m so glad I won that stupid Hide and Seek game. There was one second, when Alex had me on the alter table, about to sacrifice me, when I thought, fuck, I should just give up,” you confess. “But then something just...something was roaring inside me, telling me I can’t let them win. I had to make it, I’d come so close. And even after all the shit last night, you make it so fucking worth it.”
A small muscle in Titus’s cheek twitches, and his smile drops into a frown. He had seen on the security footage that it was indeed Alex Le Domas who was the final one to try to sacrifice you, and you’d fought back like hell to win. What an idiot, that stupid boy was. But his mistake is now Titus’s triumph.
Yet still, there is a pit in Titus’s stomach that hasn’t been resolved. He’s known inside and out the rules of the Le Domas’s Hide and Seek his whole life. He knows the ins and outs of every High Council Family’s rituals, his father made sure of it. Titus and Ursula trained from early childhood to be winners of any violent game they were put in, especially their own.
It’s part of the reason he and Ursula never committed to serious relationships, and put all their focus into keeping the family strong as it is, as their birthright as twins.
But looking at you, entering this new state of being, finding your true self because of another High Family’s failing, and yet still in the dark of this world you now rule. Titus doesn’t like complicated, he doesn’t want to twist you in a web. He wants to respect the person whose soul aligns with his. Whose monster wants to embrace his. The one person who could love all of him and his demons. He cannot lie to you. He wants to worship you.
“There was another way for you to win your game with the Le Domas’s.”
“What?” Your fingers stilling where they’ve been twisting into his short curls.
Titus clears his throat. “Your husband could have chosen you, just like tonight when we chose each other.”
“But...” your mind starts to race. “But I thought if I lived they would all die, even him?”
“Well,” Titus takes your hand in his, kissing your palm, lips touching the place the Lawyer had cut, the place where your blood mixed with his. “Mr. Le Bail likes loyalty, that’s why he plays these games with the families under his power. But loves contracts. Marriage is a contract.”
You can feel your heartbeat skip as realization dawns on you. All that trouble. All that death. And your heartbreak at the hands of Alex Le Domas...
“If your husband had chosen to honor his contract to you, if he had chosen to help you and save you, then at sunrise, he could have sacrificed the head of his family, his father, and with you, become the new head of the Le Domas family under the contract of Mr. Le Bail. One reason Ursula and I never married is to avoid that. If we chose to save our spouse, we’d have to sacrifice Father, or each other. We couldn’t bare it.”
You shake your head in disbelief, breaths coming out ragged. “M-Maybe he didn’t know that.”
“Maybe not,” Titus says in a voice that isn’t completely reassuring. “But he gave up trying to save you. He gave up his loyalty to you, the one he had chosen, the one he signed a contract with. And so at sunrise the offer was never given by Mr. Le Bail. You could have even killed Alex and married that brother that helped you instead. Didn’t you notice Mr. Le Bail didn’t do anything to him when that brother helped you get away?”
“H-How do you know all of this?” you ask.
“We all have our rituals, my Lamb,” Titus shrugs. “Every family has their way of welcoming new members. The Danforths are duelers and gamblers. When you marry into our family, you pick a card from a special deck, and if you pull a number, then you simply are welcomed into the ranks. But if you pull a face card, you must fight a corresponding Head Family member to the death. My father represented the King, my mother before her death was the Queen, a spot now taken by Ursula, and I am the Jack.”
“I’m assuming the times this has happened, they’ve pulled your card more than anyone else?” You ask, licking your lips at the thought.
“Yes well, when I was younger they pulled the King almost every time, but yes, since I’ve become a man, the times a face card has been pulled, it has been mine,” he explains with a smile that is a mixture of amusement and pride.
“Fuck, I wanna see that,” you say hungrily. “Ursula said there is footage.”
“Oh yes, we keep all the security footage of our rituals,” Titus smirks. “You want to watch me duel to the death? Want to see how strong your husband is? How ruthless? How brutal?”
Your eyes flutter shut, heat sparking in your belly as your pussy pulses. “Yes. Fuck I want to see that so fucking bad. You’ve gotten to see my monster, I want to see yours.”
You connect your lips to his in a kiss, breathy and hard and desperate. You open to allow Titus’s tongue to lick into you, to deepen the kiss, but after a moment you pull back for air and another question.
“How often does this happen? Like, how many people are in the Danforth family?”
Titus chuckles breathlessly. “My father was the oldest of seven boys and four girls, and after my father won the High Seat, they all signed their souls to follow him. And they all had way more children than him, and then most of those children have had children. It’s come up quite a bit. Mr. Le Bail probably enjoys trying to thin out our herd.”
“So it’s probably going to happen again, then? This ritual?”
“Most likely,” Titus says with a shrug. “There’s a Danforth wedding every couple of years.”
“And so then, since your father is dead, and we’re married, does that make you the King? And so would I be the Queen now? Or is Ursula still the Queen, and I’m, like, the Jack? How will we kno—"
“You are my Queen,” Titus grunts, forceful and stern. His hands come to your cheeks, holding you steady. “The rest we will let the Lawyer figure out, and he can tell us when the time comes. But I am the King. And you are my Queen, little lamb. No matter what.”
You smile into the kiss this time, as Titus pushes your body back down the on the bed, using his legs to shove yours open to make room for him. A spike of pain elicits the smallest squeak as you feel Titus’s teeth reopen the bite wound on your mouth. It only spurs you on. Your hand trails down his bare chest, but before it can reach its destination, you have a terrible realization, and push him back.
“Wait. We just got married. Don’t tell me that means I’m going to have to pull a card and do this all over again.”
“No, Little Lamb,” Titus assures you, chuckling. He raises your left hand, kissing over the rings he’d placed on your finger last night, and looks down at you with a darkness, a deep adoration, in his eyes. He wipes the new blood droplets from your lip with his thumb, sucking the dark liquid into his mouth like a nectar from the gods. “The contract is reset. No more games to play. You’ve already won.”
FIN.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n: welllllllllllllllll I cannot believe i let that get as long and lore heavy as i did!!! the last little bit does incorporate a personal theory of how Le Bail's game worked in the first movie, a theory that i think can still hold with the added lore from the second! loved coming up with the Danforth marriage ritual because they didn't say what it was in the movie and im so curious!!! also got to make a Titus is Jack joke that possibly only amuses me and that's okay :)
anyway reblog and lemme know if you enjoyed! idk if i'll do another long fic but perhaps tiny little spurts of scenes from this world if you ask nicely :)
periodic reminder that the queer liberation library is an awesome non-regional library you can add on libby to access hundreds of queer titles. NO LIBRARY CARD NEEDED. i just found an audiobook for a pretty new release on there with no waitlist. also everyone use libby for your local library too NOW
I've been using this tool called tumblr-utils to back up my tumblr blogs. it creates a locally navigatable archive of a given tumblr url's posts, which is more convenient than the post soup you get from tumblr's native blog export feature.
what that means is that I have a folder on my computer with the name of my url with an index.html file in it, and when i click on that file to open it in a browser I get a simple page with a list of years and months. selecting a specific month will send me to a list of the posts i made or reblogged in that month, similar to tumblr's own archive page. the contents of the post including images are stored locally on your machine.
It can also make a separate index file that organises posts by tag, which is great if you're a consistent tagger, but it will list every single tag you've ever used so it can take a while to find the tag you're looking for in the list if you're a habitual tag commentator. generating the tag archive also takes a while depending on how many posts have to be processed.
you can make it back up any blog as long as it's not set to private. I have backups of both my main and sideblogs and it keeps them in separate folders.
it's had some trouble going all the way back to the start of my main blog in 2012 just by sheer volume of posts, but by making it fetch posts from one month at a time I've been able to go back to 2015 (that's tens of thousands of posts), which was good enough for my purposes.
it might be a little scary to use if you've never touched the command line before, but there's both text and video instructions to set it up and using it is just a matter of typing the command and letting it do its thing in the background.
This document has a really good guide for setting it up, along with some other options for backup. I've been using tumblr utils for a while myself, and I run an incremental backup once a week.
if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it being the last line of the brokeback mountain novella is so crazy it makes me feel like my guts are falling out. if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it. jesus fucking christ
Share this, please. Do not be fooled by ICE’s administrative warrants. They are NOT a legal basis for a search or to enter your home or business. For that, ICE must present a JUDICIAL WARRANT.
We are the cosmos dreaming of itself. It's simply a dream that I think is my life, every time. But I'll forget this. I always do. I always forget my dreams. But now, in this split-second, in the moment I remember, the instant I remember, I comprehend everything at once. There is no time. There is no death. Life is a dream. It's a wish. Made again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and on into eternity. And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all. I am that I am.
