*holds up fic like an offering* My gift.
White Wedding
Alastor X Fem Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ noble man's daughter reader(life), very old timey sexism, domestic abuse, all caps for shouting, arranged marriage, blood, reader snaps and it is delightful!, fluff, kiss 💋 ⚠
You sat in front of your vanity, brushing your hair as you were getting ready for a dance the Princess Charlie was hosting in the hotel.
Wilted roses sat in a vase by the open window, the air blowing your curtains slightly as the welcoming scent filled the room. The light glinting off something on your vanity caused you to pause.
It was the ring your ex husband gave you when alive.
You remembered it like it was yesterday.
Back when you still lived as an object, a trading tool for your father to use in political affairs. He even went as far as using you to try and get to the crown. Yes, you hated that man with every fiber of your being.
Habitually, you reached a hand over your shoulder to feel the scars on your back.
You remember everything..
.
"WHY CAN'T YOU DO AS YOU ARE TOLD!?", your father yelled as he lashed you.
"Mn!", you held back your scream, tears running down your face as you tried to get out of the maids hold that kept you in place.
You had failed to persuade a merchant to work with your father and now he was angry with you.
"YOU FUCKING USELESS WENCH!", he yelled and gave another lash with the clawed whip.
I want this to end.. You thought as he continued. Why am I still here? I should just end all of my suffering.
Another snap of the whip, another slash on your back.
"Enough.", your father decided and tossed the whip on the stone floor. "Get her cleaned but don't feed her supper or breakfast.", he walked away. "She hasn't earned her meals."
The maids loosened their hold on you and you felt dizzy from the blood loss, feeling yourself start to lean forward, falling on the cold stone.
I miss mother.. You thought before everything went dark.
You woke up in your bed the next morning, no doubt your father feigning sadness about your current state of health, him labeling you as his "fragile princess" to get sympathy from the other nobles.
Sitting up from your bed, you hissed at the burning sensation on your back.
Having been in his care alone for six years, you would have thought it would be nothing, but the pain was still unbearable.
Like clockwork, maids entered your room and prepared you for the day. Brushing your hair, applying powder and other cosmetics to your face, tightening your corset, putting on your shoes and a horridly large dress.
It screamed gentle and girly.
Someone is coming to visit.. You thought as the maids put on flower like jewelry.
The maids rushed you over to the dining room and opened the doors.
At the end of the table you saw your father talking to two unfamiliar men. He noticed you after you got closer to the table.
"There's my beautiful daughter! Come and introduce yourself.", he wore a convincing smile.
You walked closer and gave a curtsy, bowing your head as you introduced yourself to the gentlemen. "I hope both of you have had a pleasant morning so far."
When glancing at them, you could see lust glaze over there gazes.
Disgusting.
Your chair was pulled out by one of the servants and you sat down as they brought you a bowl of soup. As you waited for a glass of juice, you noticed that one of the visitors did not stop staring at you.
So did your father.
A few months later, you are notified of a wedding taking place in just a few days.
Your wedding.
"What?", you said in shock.
"You are going to marry soon, so finish up your lessons and take extra care of your skin. We don't want your value to lessen.", your father waved his hand to shoo you out of his office. "You will look best in a soft pearl white."
"No."
He looked up at you with annoyance.
"This isn't your choice, now go.", he said in an authoritative tone.
"I don't want to marry a man I don't know.", you pushed. "I want to fall in love and be happy! I want-!"
"WHAT YOU WANT DOESN'T MATTER!", he snapped. "YOU ARE MY DAUGHTER. MY PROPERTY. AND I WILL GET WHAT I AM OWED FOR YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE!"
"NO!", you raised your voice. "I AM NOT AN OBJECT! I AM A PERSON AND I WILL BE TREATED AS SUCH!", you stomped your foot.
In a second he got up and was in front of you, giving you a slap across the face that made your head turn.
"YOU WILL LISTEN AND OBEY!", he shouted close your face.
Just like him, it only took you a second to strike back. You punched him in the nose, making him stagger back.
"NO! YOU WILL HEAR ME YOU BRUTE!", you growled. "I AM NOT A TOOL!"
That night you got the worst beating of your life that left you in bed for days.
In a flash, it was your wedding day.
You were being dressed up by bridesmaids your father picked out, bruises being covered with body paint and powder, lips being painted with a soft pink color. What you saw in the mirror was a portrait perfect bride, dressed in an elegant gown that any woman with a normal life would be happy to wear.
You hated it.
One of the girls sat you down on the chair in front of the vanity and started brushing your hair.
Then there was a knock on your door.
Turning to look you saw it was your older brother.
He traveled a lot and was oblivious to what your father had done to you over the years.
"Hey little sister.", your brother greeted.
"You're back..", was all you said before facing the vanity mirror.
"I've been away for so long and this is my greeting? You wound me.", he laughs as he enters the room.
"You cannot enter without the bride's permission!", one of your bridesmaids said.
"He is an acception. The rest of you leave us until I ask for you again.", you added and glared at the bridesmaid who spoke through the mirror.
The ladies nodded and left the room, the last one closing the door behind them. No doubt leaning against the door to eavesdrop on your conversation.
"You look wonderful.", he said and picked up the brush the bridesmaid left on the vanity table. "I bet your husband will be happy."
"I'm not happy..", you whispered.
"What?", he said and looked at your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "What do you mean? It's your wedding day, you should be beaming with joy!"
"I'm being sold off like cattle, why should I be happy about that.", you said, tired.
"What is your wish?", he asks you, parting your hair and taking the upper half to brush.
"To start again but in a different way.", you said, placing a hand to feel the middle part of your corset, just above your stomach to make sure there was enough space.
The both of you stayed quiet and he finished doing your hair, fastening your mother's hairpin into your bun, the bottom half of your hair cascading down into wavy curls.
"It's a nice day for a white wedding..", is all he said.
He walked out of the room and in that second you took out a hidden dagger from the back of the mirror, carefully sliding it between your corset and chemise.
The bridesmaids entered the room after you called them back in, and you acted like nothing happened, wearing the same blank stare.
After the vows, writing down your names, and the carriage ride, you arrived at the hall where all the dancing and cake serving would be held at. Your husband took your hand and guided you to the dance floor, both of you taking the time to greet the guest and thanking them for attending.
Then it was your brother's turn.
"I'm thankful to get to see you in a wedding dress.", he hugged you.
You hugged him back, but not with much care and gave him a pat on the back.
"I'm going to be right back, but just know things will get better.", your brother whispered to you before letting go and leaving the hall.
You just smiled and waited.
Finally it was time for the father daughter dance.
Your father was happy, no doubt excited to count his money and other offerings.
During the dance your father spoke to you.
"I have so much more gold thanks to you.", he smiled with a proud look. "Getting married isn't so bad. You'll learn to be a good wife and mother.", he said as you both spun. "Just like your mother, you will obey every word your husband says."
The orchestra finished and both of you bowed to each other.
It was then that you took out the dagger and stabbed your father in the stomach. He gave a shout in surprise, gabbing your shoulder to hold onto.
"I'm so happy.", you whispered in his ear and shoved him back, watching as he landed on his back with a thud in the middle of the dance floor.
One of the guests screamed.
A few people started rushing over, some going to your father and the others trying to grab the dagger from your hands.
It was like dancing to your own music as you sliced and stabbed through the crowd. Screams and blood everywhere. The other guests, spectators until you turned to face them. Running out of the hall in fear of you going after them. The giant hall now empty and void of any life but you.
A laugh escaped from your lips as you stared down at your hands.
Your beautifully blood covered hands.
The blood shining off of the blade that made your heart race in excitement.
You laughed as you danced on top of the bloody corpses, wedding dress utterly drenched in your victims blood, now completely red.
White was for innocence.
But red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red. You thought and closed your eyes in bliss as you twirled. Oh red.
Red was your favorite.
There was a gasp.
Twirling to face the person, you saw that it was your dear older brother in the doorway of the dance hall.
"What have you done?", he said in horror.
You smiled.
"I've started my life again."
.
"Darling?"
You jumped in surprise, dropping your brush as you looked behind you to see your demonic love, the Radio Demon.
"Alastor.", you smiled. "I did not hear you enter."
"Forgive me dearest.", he walked over and picked up your hairbrush. "I used my shadows to enter your chambers, I forgot to knock."
"It is alright.", you replied and faced the mirror again.
The demon in red began to brush your hair, which made you hum in content.
"What had you in such a daze? Usually you are quite alert and aware of your surroundings.", Alastor asked as he started to put your hair up.
"I remembered one of the happiest days of my life.", you answered. "My lovely red wedding, just seconds before my death."
"Ah, yes.", he hummed. "I quite like that tale of yours. How I wish I could have seen you dance, covered in blood..", he trailed off and finished your hair, placing a red hair jeweled pin in your hair, making sure it matched your red dress perfectly. "We should have our own red wedding."
"Are you purposing?", you asked, glancing back at him.
"Would you like to get married to me?", he asked, placing his hands on your upper arms as he leaned down to place a kiss on the side of your neck.
Glancing at the old ring, you picked it up and tossed it out the open window.
"I would very much like to marry the sinister man I fell in love with."
Helping you stand, Alastor spun you into a dip before giving you a long kiss on the lips.
You felt a weight on your finger and peeked to see a beautifully crafted ring with a blood red gem. Alastor wearing a matching ring, but more his style.
Parting, both of you smiled at each other.
"Let's join the others! I heard that Charlie had invited Rosie as well, we can tell her the news together. She will be thrilled!", he began to ramble as he pulled you back up.
Linking arms, you both made your way to the dance hall.
This was my late night draft, my creation of insanity.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @+?
ML I🎙 | ML II🎙
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"I devour his flesh in the name of survival, it was his time and now it is mine, my teeth will forever be stained red, and the taste shall never leave my mouth"
// [ a wip of mine i thought i'd share :)) ]
Sakura Haruno was the weakest link, a fact she came to accept in her so far short life.
The moment her naive mouth declared she wanted to be a shinobi, was the moment her fate was sealed. Sakura was a clanless kunoichi, destined for the slaughterhouse. Hell, she even had the pig-pink hair to really seal the deal.
All she had in her arsenal upon graduating from the academy, upon becoming a ‘real’ shinobi, was the bare bones lessons from the academy– why would they need to go in-depth when all the clan kids already knew all this information and more? (they were the only ones worth anything after all)– and what little she was able to grasp from the low-access library books.
That's not even mentioning the fact that she only graduated thanks to her teammates.
Naruto, the ‘dead-last', was so far ahead of Sakura; it wasn't even close. She had always wondered why that was the name used in the whispers. Had no one else paid attention to the fact that while not book-smart, he was able to keep up with the likes of Sasuke? Naruto had heaps of energy, stamina and chakra. He was leagues ahead of those whispering kids, ahead of Sakura.
Sakura had stared at the dozens of clones he summoned during the bell test, the sheer determination he held, and she couldn’t find it in herself to feel anything but envy. Naruto didn’t have a clan either, so how was he still so far ahead?
Then there's Sasuke. Once upon a time, when she was a small insecure child; she had latched onto him as some higher power to worship. Ino had recalled stories of how strong each of his hits was, how handsome he was, how unearthly.
When she first saw him, well she had to agree. He was strong in a way Sakura never was. He stood high and mighty and fought as if he was born to do just that.
Then he put her in her place.
…
Sakura watched starstruck as Sasuke won his spar in what seemed mere seconds. As he stood in front of the boy he won against unyielding, she truly understood Ino’s obsession with him.
Then Iruka-sensei called the next match-up.
“Sasuke Uchiha against Sakura Haruno.”
Immediately, everybody turned to her. Their vicious eyes picked her apart and gazed at her mockingly.
“This’ll be hilarious,” she heard someone whisper.
Sakura looked at Sasuke. Those dark eyes of his stared at her from head to toe, before turning away and scoffing.
Her ears were duly ringing, all those wolfish stares caused her eyes to water as she looked down.
“Enough, everyone. Sasuke, Sakura, get into positions”
She walked over with hesitant steps and settled into the standard academy form.
Sakura stared at the viscous look Sasuke wore as he settled into what must have been an Uchiha clan form. A gaze once so godly when directed at others, was now the look of a predator about to devour its prey.
“Begin!”
He immediately rushed her, and all she could do was bring up her hands to block in some hopes of prolonging the inevitable. Sakura was hit with fist after fist, only able to partly dodge for seconds of relief before the barrage continued.
She was left lying in the dirt, bruised and slightly bloody, staring up at the sky with a shame far stronger than anything she had felt before. Sakura didn’t even bother listening to her classmates mocking taunts, or Sasuke’s scoffed remarks.
All Sakura amounted to was prey.
…
Sasuke was the predator, and to see someone as strong as him be defeated so easily by their sensei, all it made her do was shake. Each hit was blocked with a sharp calculation, every counter-attack an obvious showing of restraint.
Sakura was on the bottom of the food chain. Their sensei must have been leagues ahead of even Sakura, and even then she knew that there were those far stronger out there.
She shivered under the moonlight for more reasons than just the chill of the night. Hours after she officially became a genin, and all she could think was how utterly hopeless it was. Why did she insist on her naive stubbornness?
When she had determined to become a kunoichi, it had been mostly thanks to the kunoichi Ino dragged her to see. The blonde had already been gushing about her for a while, and when faced with the opportunity to show Sakura a true kunoichi in action when sparring, she took it.
The woman’s long hair lagged behind her as she moved gracefully around her opponent. Then once she got close enough to hit, she did so with an unstoppable strength.
Sakura quietly laughed at her past naivety mockingly. The memory of the kunoichi’s spar was hazy, yet perhaps to make herself only feel worse, she attempted to recreate the position the women had started in.
She stood on the grass with her feet spread apart, the bruises on her knee from when she tumbled during the bell test twinged, preventing her from truly spreading her weight evenly. Nevertheless, she brought her hands up in front of her chest and curled her soft hands into fists.
The memory of the kunoichi immediately dodged the punch heading for her jaw as she twirled around her opponent, Sakura’s small feet clumsily recreated that image with her eyes closed. The kunoichi and Sakura then kicked upwards as a counter move, hitting the opponent’s brought-up blocking arms. Sakura almost lost her balance after the kick. Then, she jumped back from an attack in time with the image of the kunoichi.
Attack, Dodge, Kick, Hit, Block; the fuzzy sequence played out as Sakura’s limbs followed uncoordinated and sluggish. She had no idea how long she played that scene out before her bruised knee gave up and she collapsed in a sweaty heap on the grass.
She started up at the full moon, the hundreds of twinkling stars, and all she could hear was the cricket’s cries as she tried to regain her breath.
Sakura knew she was a civilian parading as a shinobi, they all whispered that, and yet her heart had screamed that they would be proven wrong. As of now, her lungs were shouting their disagreement.
That dreaded voice finally decided to speak up;
You’re nothing but canon fodder, after all.
Be quiet.
You couldn’t even play at being a kunoichi without failing.
Shut up.
They were right about you. They will always be right about you.
Stop.
Weak, useless little girl, who are you trying to fool? Yourself? Everyone knows it, your sensei barely looked at you. Sasuke doesn’t even remember beating you, you’re not worth it.
YOU’RE NOT WORTH ANYTHING.
STOP. STOP. STOP IT STOP IT STOP–
Sakura let out the harsh breath she was holding. Her mind torturing her was nothing new, every word used against her was adapted into her vocabulary of self-loathing. She closed her watery eyes with a shaky exclamation.
Why was she just agreeing? Why was she just lying down and taking it? What happened to the little girl with a fiery heart; the one who declared she’d prove everyone wrong?
Where did that little girl who grit her teeth while she stood back up on shaky legs go?
…
The ringing in her ears dulled enough for the sound of her wheezing breaths and Iruka-sensei’s concerned voice to break through. Sakura guessed he was asking if she was okay, or if she needed help standing up.
She lifted her head to see Sasuke’s back turned. Ino was several steps away from him, looking between her and Sasuke with a conflicted expression.
‘Weak’ his body language seemed to spit at her, ‘Useless’.
Iruka-sensei lightly touched her shoulder, “Do you need me to carry you to the nurse’s office, Sakura?”
His voice was tinged with concern. Behind her, she heard the shrill sound of girls giggling.
She clenched her teeth together painfully and began to sit up with trembling limbs. Iruka-sensei kept his hand on her shoulder, but as Sakura continued to rise she tried to subtly push it off of her. He let go with a concerned frown as she reached her knees. The rocks underneath dug into her skin, leaving imprints.
Sakura eventually raised to unsteady feet, and with all the scratches and bruises and wild hair she was sure she looked vaguely feral. She couldn’t bring herself to feel ugly for it. She stumbled away from the sparring location, and with clenched teeth she couldn’t help but glare at the Uchiwa fan on the dark haired boy's back.
…
As the memory of her resilience resurfaced, Sakura wondered why she had forgotten about that part. When did the terrifying act of standing up after being pushed down become unimportant to her?
When had she stopped trying?
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The Romanticization and Normalization of Abuse and Sexism in LGBTQIA+ Stories
The popularization of stories with LGBTQIA+ main characters is in no way a bad thing. Diversity is important, and the more stories like that, the better. But when the story becomes sexist, or when a story starts to normalize abuse, it becomes an issue.
In the popular manhwa Killing Stalking, The main character was drafted into the military, and was incredibly unlucky as to where he had been placed. He fell in love with one of his comrades when he helped him. After both of them got done with their service, the main character stalked his former comrade, and then the main character breaks into his house, and then gets trapped there. After that, the main character suffers horrifying abuse by the other character. The fanbase does not view this as the psychological horror that it is, though. They view it as a romance.
Visit any fan page for this manhwa and you’ll see the people wishing for the “romance” that they have, and saying that they’re so cute together. I was researching this book, and I came across a threat on Pinterest of ten year olds saying they loved their relationship and thought it was adorable. Mind you, this was the same “relationship” where the main character was hung from the ceiling and trapped inside the house and forced to eat from a dog bowl.
In a similar case, the popular manhwa Jinx has a similar relationship. There is an extreme power imbalance between the two characters, and the fanbase considers it adorable and says that the “love interest” (who brutally assaults the main character on many different occasions) is improving (no, he is not) and that their relationship is so adorable. This romanticization of abuse is not uncommon, and you will find many popular tropes that follow this, like a mafia boss kidnapping the main character (in fact, this was so popular in the 2010s that people now make jokes about it being the only trope on a website that independent writers can publish their stories on. This also leads to people avoiding the website like the plague, and writers who just want to share their work getting a bad reputation for it.
This romantiziation of abuse also affects real life, too. The writers on the above website are not the only example of this. When people in fiction are idolized by ten year olds for the abusive relationships they have, they won’t realize that it isn’t normal, and that it’s horrible to have a relationship like that. This will lead to a generation of children who will believe that what they read was good and normal, and that they should want a relationship like that. The other side is that the children will read it and see people who will want that type of relationship, and model themself after the abuser. This, in total, leads to a generation of children idolizing the wrong relationship.
In these novels, there are not many female characters. In the Jinx manhwa, there is a total of two women. TWO women in this piece of media with over 40 chapters at the time of writing this. This is an incredibly popular manhwa, and there is only two women in it. If a book series only had women in it, and had a lesbian couple, they would somehow turn it into male centered. A popular movie, which was about a town of all women, had an unfair amount of speaking lines given to men. Only 41% of all speaking lines were given to women, in a movie about all women.
In conclusion, the romanticization of abuse and the sexism in LGBTQIA+ novels is a real issue, that affects everyone, whether that be new authors trying to post their work on a respected website, or ten-year-olds who clicked on a link their friend sent, that would have consequences on all their future relationships.
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