#family trauma tw

[hells-greatestdad]

// vent relating to family trauma type shit. probably shouldn't post it here tbh but idk...

probably delete later.

it's quite heavy, so read at your own risk. please take care of yourself.

A few months back I had a gigantic freakout on here in regards to something a parent said that was cruel and bitchy and very entitled. It brought back stuff from my childhood to the point that I overreacted and planned to cut said parent out of my life entirely as soon as possible (a decision I later took back, especially since I have to live with this parent as a disabled adult)

During yesterday's scare with the electricity, my sister and I had a fairly lengthy talk about said parent.

Sister says she will cut her off entirely, go no contact period once she's able to. That's the plan, once she manages to move out. She also expressed a wish for our parent to die alone with no friends or family and especially neither of us to comfort her on her death bed.... I.... do not like that idea. At all. Even thinking about it makes me want to cry. But she's entitled to feel that way, or however she needs to feel about it.

I have many issues with that parent and will never, I'm sure, have a good relationship with them. But I don't want that for them.... that's too sad and cruel and doesn't align with my values. I don't believe in repaying evil for evil.

man.... I always wanted just a normal, happy family where everyone loved each other. Clearly that's too much to ask for

[mbrainspaz]

I'm actually so glad I couldn't go meet my grandparents for margaritas on my birthday. Finally made it out there a while later and gran spent half the dinner trying to interrogate me like I'd come out as a freaking X-man. She kept pointing to herself and gramps (who definitely wanted to be anywhere else) and saying "look I just don't see how all of you [the queers: my bi cousin, my gay uncle, & me, the enby] came from us when we're so straight and normal. IS IT... GENETICS? IS IT... CULTURE???"

I'm like "no gran it's not a cultural contagion. I'm the same way I've always been. I just have a new label for it now. Do you remember fairies?"

Her eyes lit up and she said she did. She said that was what they called gay men back in the 40's. Gramps said he didn't remember anything of the sort and I reminded him that he grew up in the country and he was like 'yeah I did 😎.' I explained how 'fairies' were essentially a third gender at the time, kind of similar to non-binary people today. She nodded along. It's a stretch but bear with me. I ended up going on this whole lecture about gender diversity through the ages from ancient Scythia to the founding fathers and changing labels and the way the CIA targeted homosexuals bc of the red scare in the 50's and manufactured the queerphobic hysteria we're still dealing with today. I got to explain gender as a spectrum and how I fall in the middle. Gran tried to sidetrack with nonsense about how my mom will always see me as a 'girl' and I just need to accept that she can't accept me and love her anyway. Barf. I said I'd rather have my peace than deal with that. Anyway, honestly I doubt any of it will make a difference.

My grandparents aren't religious fundamentalists like my parents. It's easier to talk to them because at least they don't accuse me of being demon possessed. I do get the feeling gran was kind of bummed I couldn't just pinpoint the X mutant gene for her.

[stellstells-archived]

Wrote a drabble with Fil as a way to cope with my recent loss, feel free to read or scroll by. Content Warnings tagged below.

________________________________________________________

Filarick stared out onto the snowy mountains beneath Skyhold, he could spot a frozen pond that he'd visited last summer when it had thawed for a short time. His mind drifted to thoughts of his home, his first home at least. Before the Inquisition, before the Mage Rebellion, and before his life in the circle. The home he'd shared with his birth parents and siblings, the one in which his grandmother had told him the stories of knights in shining armor. The story of the Knight-Enchanter that valiantly saved her in her youth, the reason he'd walked that path himself.

A tear slowly fell down his cheek as he tightened his hand into a fist, eliciting a crinkle from the letter within his hand. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath in the cold night air. He hadn't spoken to his grandmother face to face in far too long because of that thrice dammed rebellion and then that fucking darkspawn monster. He slammed his fist into the stone wall beside him, surely cutting himself on the jagged rock, but he was too angry to care about that now.

But what was he truly angry at? He could have gone to visit her if he had truly cared, couldn't he? Had he failed her? Was what he was doing truly worth it if the only true family he had left was gone? What did he have to protect now? The church that spat poison at him for simply being born? The soldiers who refused treatment just because he was a mage, and that made him a vile thing to be hated and feared.

He let out a ragged breath, not even realizing he'd been sobbing. He placed his face in the palm of his hand, and he moved his fist from the wall to the half-wall in front of him, leaning into it for support. He didn't have time for this, neither the grief nor the anger. He had a job to do tomorrow. There were people who needed saving, and he knew there would be more tomorrow than today with the fighting ramping up. He let a few soft sobs out, more like raspy sighs than anything, before wiping his tears from his face with a handkerchief from his pocket. 

Once somewhat composed again he looked up to the stars and gave a small prayer, barely speaking above a whisper. “Maker, or whoever’s in charge of us after we die. Please, take care of her, I didn’t see her nearly often enough while she was here, and I don’t know if I’ll meet her again or end up damned as some people say. But either way, please let her know that I love her and I miss her.” A few more tears fell down his face as he spoke, and he looked down at his hand before finishing with. “And tell her that I’ll do my best to take care of the ring she left for me. Even if it doesn’t fit my own fingers.” As he spoke he opened his hand and stared down at the tiny ring, wondering how such a small thing could fit on a finger. 

He clasped his fingers around the ring with a deep breath and folded up the letter he’d been given, placing it back within its envelope. Placing the envelope within his inner jacket pocket he turned back towards the inside of the fortress and began his path back to his bed, hoping he’d manage some sleep before he’d be needed once again.

[rotting-bitch]

try to be gentle while tearing me apart

[gollldrush]

The sudden slam of the knife into the table is enough to send Leo into a spiral. An unbridled shaking in her hands, eyes widened and pinned to the table. Remaining there, entirely frozen, the sound of their cluttered voices is only background noise to the panicking flood of emotions in her head. Without speaking, her eyes dart across the room – counting, picking out colors. Grounding herself.

Leo’s eyes lift to Béatrice as if searching for reassurance. There’s none to be found; the woman wearing her own worry in her eyes, a slight tremble to her lips. A shaking breath is released, accompanied by another jump when Mr. Christensen’s chair squeals against the floor. Her hand reaches beneath the table to curl her fingers into her leg. Unable to decipher what they’re saying besides the bits of English, she stares in confusion the closer her draws to Antoine.

The slap is enough to make her jaw drop, eyes fluttering in rapid blinks to hold back tears. As Antoine reels away and nearly into her she leans forward, a hand held inches from his shoulder to catch him should he slip any further. The rage burning behind Christensen’s eyes is one she’s all too familiar with. Her eyes trail to his raised hand, listens to the wordson his tongue.

You’ve made me do this.

“That’s ENOUGH.” Leo looks to Béatrice with her buried head, back to Mr. Christensen who seems to now be hanging in some sort of awkward limbo, and finally to Antoine. “Enough.”

On her feet, as if she has any amount of authority in this situation. No thought of consequence for herself or Antoine in the moment. Just a blinding rage induced by being triggered, by remembering how it felt to be slapped around and belittled.

“The only person being embarrassing is you!” Every memory of watching Antoine be shattered by this man piles up in the back of her head. “What kind of man puts his hands on his son?” The maid in the corner has her head bowed to her chest, not watching – unmoving. “Antoine is a literal genius, he’s talented, he’s kind. He would do anything for anyone and I can’t figure out where he learned that from because it’s not from either of you!”  A hard swallow, she shakes her head.

“You said something about my father? Right? Fadder, I heard you say it. Laughing about him for not being able to put me in college?” She scoffs, her face turning red with anger. The ranting unstoppable at this point. “He worked his entire life being looked down upon by men like you. But do you know who has taken care of Antoine in the states? Who has treated him like an actual son? MY father. Mine. So don’t you dare-“ Leo’s rage has her slamming the table, hand slapping upwards to send her wine glass flying across the room until it hits the floor and shatters. “… don’t you DARE mock him.”

There’s tears in her eyes, hot and stinging as they roll down her cheeks. Perhaps she’d gone a bit too far. She closes her eyes, jaw twitching – hands clenched so hard that the nails have put tiny slits into her palm. Leo winces when she relaxes them, eyes fluttering open.

“Lovely dinner.” She quips at Beatrice, slamming the napkin stuck to her lap down on her untouched plate of food, ready to walk.

There's a pitying aw given when Leo mentions not attending college, a hand placed over Béatrice's heart.

"That's okay, ma petite chou," she murmurs, wrinkling her nose at her with a smile. There's a warmth in her features, as though she pities her as her own daughter--it's a bit diminishing, despite there being good intentions behind her reaction. "There are plenty of other trades you can get into, oui?" She reaches for her own glass of wine to hide the roll of her eyes.

"Ja, alle de samme underbetalte undervurderede karrierer som hendes fadder,'' Mr. Christensen jokes, a smirk on his lips as he sips his own wine. Suddenly, there's a loud slam as Antoine stabs their steak knife into the table. His mother jumps, his father's entire body tensing. The waiter stood in the corner of the room is quick to leave once more.

"C'est assez," Antoine shouts, voice booming over the snickers of his parents. They both have been silenced by his sudden choice to speak. His father looks at him with a quirked brow, though. "Vous agissez comme si vous ne saviez pas à quoi ça ressemble! Comme si nous avions toujours été si riches! Maman, vous comprenez! Pourquoi vous ne dites rien?!"

"Det er nok," Mr. Christensen firmly speaks up as their son is yelling, wildly gesturing as he speaks. He sees Antoine's half-lidded gaze now that he's opted to lift his head at last--the sunburn on his cheeks and nose, the red in his eyes...

"Du er fuld."

"Gør det nogen forskel?"

"Stille, dreng! Før du siger noget, du vil fortryde."

"Arrêtez, vous deux!" Béatrice suddenly speaks up, her voice harshly cutting through the argument between the two men. They fall silent. Antoine purses his lips, a hard frown stuck to his features. He crosses his arms, slumping back in his seat like a pouting toddler, his head ducked a little low as he looks off to the side, at the floor.

"Can we just have a nice dinner, s'il vous plaît," Béatrice practically begs, her shoulders tense. "Pour une fois?! Just this once! Without you two bickering?!"

A long silence hangs in the air.

"Look at your mother when she's talking to you," Mr. Christensen says suddenly, staring hard at Antoine. He doesn't budge. "Antoine." Another long pause. Suddenly, Mr. Christensen shoves back his chair, standing to his feet and storming over to the other side of the table.

"Mon amour, arrête, s'il te plaît..." she mumbles, but simply bows her head and closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath to collect herself. Like she knows what's coming.

Antoine bites the tip of his tongue as his father grows ever closer. Suddenly, he's leaning over him, taking in a long sniff.

"Vores søn er en beruset. Pouvez-vous croire cela," he hisses, standing straight again and direction the latter question at the mother. "Regarde ça. Regarde ton fils. Ses cheveux sont en désordre. He's dressed like a pornstar!" He leans over Antoine to emphasize the last word, practically yelling in his face. To that, he simply flinches, sinks further in his chair, his jaw tight, tears starting to sting his eyes against his will.

"I told you we should have never let him drop out of college..."

"Comme si c'était dit valg," Antoine shouts suddenly, leaning forward in his chair. The instant he's sat up, though, there isn't even a moment's pause before his father's hand is on his cheek. It's a brief, quick motion, without a large amount of build up or force, but it's enough to sting and leave a faint red mark behind... Although it wasn't forceful, he's drunk enough it causes him to teeter to one side of his chair, nearly falling out of it. He's frozen like that, half hunched over with a few loose curls shielding the painful mark on his face. His eyes are pinned to the ground, looking at Leo's shoes, embarrassed when tears drip down his cheeks and fall to the floor.

"Hvordan tør du. The disrespect...You've made me do this. I've no choice but to do this to you! And in front of your guest?!" A hand grabs onto the collar around his neck, yanking him up to force him to look at him, their faces mere inches apart. "Du er en skændsel for familien. You embarrass me. Your mother. In our home." A snap of his fingers and one of the maids is rushing over to take away the plate of food from Antoine's spot at the table.

"Je n'ai jamais voulu for at være i ta famille..." Antoine slurs in his father's face despite the tears rolling down his cheeks, lip curled. Rage fills Mr. Christensen's expression and Béatrice is sobbing now, her head in her hands so she doesn't have to watch as he lifts a hand at Antoine again, prepared to strike harder than before...i

[incorrectbatfam]

Jason: Hey, Damian, your momma so—

Damian: My mother committed multiple war crimes and is now locked in solitary confinement in a Bolivian prison.

Jason: Well, uh, your dad—

Damian: My father left when I was ten to go on a mission and consequently got lost in the time stream.

Jason: Well then...

Dick: Stop, Jason!

Jason: Your grandparents are so—

Damian: My grandmother floated into the sky like a balloon with too much helium when my grandfather spontaneously combusted.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

[backinmyphase]

Not my mother

Synopsis: As Gojo Satoru's wife you are most of the time alone at home and you have made your peace with that. However a visit from your mother in law results in a pleasant surprise. Well, not for him as he meets your mother.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 4300 words Masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu Clans suck, reader's mom is a warning alone, talking about drugging a person, dark implications

A/n: Sorry for the long wait again! This chapter just seemed especially hard to write :') As usual just say if you want to be tagged and feel free to comment any thoughts regarding this post, it always makes my day. Enjoy!

"Satoru, do you like your family?"

Once in a while there are thoughts that pop up in your head, questions about your husband, that you are just slipping out of your mouth. After all you two didn't really have much time together. Question because of time away from him. So much time.

You sit with him at the breakfast table, the big table now not used anymore, just a little one where you sit opposite of each other. Now you can fully see how he is taken by surprise. How his eyebrows rise. And how his lips...

In the last days you really had strange thoughts.

"Do you?"

You stopped eating for a second, now realizing what kind of question that is. Someone else would think the answer had to be obvious. But when your family is a Clan it seems so strange to talk about it as 'family'.

"I... Do. I think." your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

He looked at you with these eyes that seemed to look right through you. And even though you didn't think you were lying, you didn't know if it was the truth either.

Then he shrugged.

"If I'm being honest, I don't really. I don't really see them as family. They are just people I'm representing." he chews for a bit, but then stops. "You know, they didn't treat me as family either. So I guess I never saw them as it."

He looked up with an almost apologetic look. "Too cold?"

"What? No!" you shook your head. "I'm the one asking. I'm happy with the honest answer."

"And you know," you fidgeted with your ring. The feeling of it cold, heavy. "I get what you mean. In fact I think you described my feelings really well."

He looked at you like always when he didn't really get what you meant but didn't want to ask. But this morning you dropped the topic of family as he had to go on missions and you... Had to get rid of your boredom with other ways.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"So I am free for half of the day?" Satoru couldn't believe as he heard the news from Yaga.

"Not really. There's just someone who requested a meeting with you. And you have to go Gojo, I don't want to hear any excuses." Yaga had still that tone like when Gojo was his student. And somehow it was still working.

"Yeah, yeah. When is it?"

"Just read the formula I gave you!" he sighed. "It's in half an hour."

"Okay, okay." Satoru looked back at the formula Yaga gave him, wondering why he had to go to their house of this person for a meeting they requested, but sure.

He was slightly annoyed he couldn't just go home to you.

Since last week the only thing on his mind when he went on missions was how and when he got back to his wife. Even though he wished he had more free time with you, it was calming to just have a regular evening talk with you.

No pressure, no higher-ups. Just talking.

You had such a pretty smile and he was such an idiot to make you not smile so freely before. He couldn't believe how easily you have forgiven him. Because he sure hasn't. Everytime he saw you sleep on the couch when he came back he felt bad. Like he was still not doing enough.

Since when did he feel like he wasn't doing enough?

He still had to learn so much about you. How to make you laugh regularly and what was your favorite food. And how not to make you angry or sad. Because that was something he wanted to avoid by all costs.

He looked at the address and it did seem familiar. But he didn't remember from where. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something was telling him that this seemed like an obvious trap.

But he didn't want to piss of his old teacher.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The Gojo mansion was warming up to you. Even though it was often still empty and cold, you did find the garden and library endearing.

But you missed Satoru.

Without him this house still didn't feel like home, no matter how many books you started to read or how many facts Hina told you about the plants in the garden.

Whenever he came back in the evening the time was always passing so fast. Sometimes you just wanted to have a new honeymoon without the pressure. Just him and time. After all, you never went to that restaurant.

But wishing and thinking of what if's wasn't a good pass of the time. You still had to build your own life.

Oftentimes you went into the kitchen to watch the work of the chefs and chat with them, but today you didn't feel like it. You didn't want to admit it but you were bored.

The hours alone at home were eating you up. When you distracted yourself from your anxious thoughts regarding the Clan matter, the boredom came. Maybe you were just not cut out to be a stay at home wife. Or maybe you grew too lazy. Oh, what would your mother say when she would see you complaining? She would eat you up.

You strolled through the mansion alone, wondering again why the big house was so empty. No old pictures of Gojo or anything like that. Why?

And as you went to the garden, you couldn't help but sigh at your lack of tasks and-

"Of course he didn't get a gardener! Even though I have told him for months! Always just a little boy with too much-"

You couldn't move as you looked at the woman who sat between the lilies. Speechless because the last time you saw her was on your wedding day as your mother ranted about her and her son.

Mrs. Gojo had such a strong presence.

Even when she was just ranting about her son.

"Oh my!" her eyes lit up as she spotted you. And even though they didn't have the color of the ones your husband had, they had the same light and crinkle when they were excited.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" she got up, cleared her very expensive looking dress and slowly strutted towards to you. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!"

"Pleasure meeting you again." you bowed your head a bit, you still had to be careful in the presence of your mother in law. "But I didn't know you would visit today Mrs. Gojo?"

"Oh please drop the formals!" she shook her head and for the first time she really smiled. Like a real sincere smile. "We are both Mrs. Gojo now, aren't we? You can call me Ayaka."

"If you say so Mrs- I mean Ayaka." she nodded approvingly while having an amused glint in her eyes. "Ayaka, I wasn't informed you would come to visit. Is there a something you want to discuss with Satoru? If so he is at work-"

She laughed and shook her head. "Oh I know don't worry. I'm not here for him. I'm tending the garden. Once in a month I come here to make sure the Gojo garden isn't forgotten. The boy seemed to forget his mother the moment she wasn't living here anymore."

"Oh." now as she mentioned it, you never saw anyone in the garden tending the flowers before. You just assumed there was someone who did it, because... Well it was Gojo's garden.

"Do you like it?" Your mother in law pointed at the lila flowers that were blooming in the center of all the flowers. "I planted those Hydrangeas at your wedding day. They seem to bloom very well."

"Oh, yeah. They are very beautiful." It was calming to watch those flowers dance in the wind.

"Do you have fresh tea?" Gojo's mother held her head high, her hands intertwined at waist height as she looked at you. "I would like to drink one with you."

Perplexed you blinked at her. "I think we do. Is there a special occasion?"

"Oh, you know." she gently took your arm, intertwining it with her own as she took steady steps towards the mansion. "I just want to talk with my daughter in law about her and her husband."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The mansion, which had the address, wasn't the biggest. But it was big enough Satoru knew it had to be of a Clan.

Now, Meetings with other Clans weren't unusual. In fact they were a remaining part of his childhood. But most of the time the Clan came to him and it was planned weeks prior.

There were no plants outside, no decorations.

Satoru walked with slow, steady steps. He couldn't afford to be caught of guard. And even though this was just a meeting he felt cursed energy from somewhere in the mansion.

He rang and waited.

One. Two. Three.

Should he ring again? Or should he just go home to you-

A maid opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw him. "Gojo Satoru?"

"Yeah?" what was with that reaction? "I was ordered here for a meeting." But in reality no one should order him around-

"Oh yes. But the lady of the house is busy right now." she opened the door far enough for him to step inside. "Let me show you the room of the meeting and serve you tea while you wait."

He didn't want to be here. It felt like a bad horror movie and his gut told him he should tell Yaga that he couldn't attend such meetings. But he didn't want another higher-up at his doorstep, so he did step in.

The mansion had a couple of pictures. People he didn't know looking at him with such stone cold faces. Who would want that kind of picture?

The hallway was long, multiple doors were passed as he followed the maid.

And then there was that door.

He knew. There was the cursed energy he felt. It wasn't a normal amount. It had such a presence, it had to be a curse of some sort. Or a curse user.

No matter what, his gut wanted him to rip the door open and end it.

"Mr. Gojo?" the maid wasn't pleased he stopped in his tracks. No, in fact she looked a bit frightened. "The appointment room is a couple doors down there."

"Is it?" he looked at the wooden door before him and wondered what this 'lady' wanted from him. And why she had this much cursed energy in one of her rooms.

"Then let's keep going."

It wasn't for long, when he followed the maid into a small room. It had a table ready with cups.

"I will serve tea as you are waiting." the maid was already hurrying to get out.

"Wait! I don't need tea right now." she stopped at the doorframe and looked at him.

And she had that eerily smile. "But my lady insists."

With that she turned around and left him alone. What in the world was that? This whole thing was becoming more and more weird with the second he spend here. But he did sat down at the table.

However he didn't touch the tea that was him served.

The room he was in was kinda spooky. It didn't have anything precisely unusual in it, but the atmosphere was killing him.

There were medals and certificates on the walls. Some flowers were put underneath like it was meant to show pride. But if they would really be proud there wouldn't be any dust on these highly things.

He didn't wait for long. But maybe that wouldn't have been so bad.

The door opened and an older woman stepped in, which seemed familiar. Her stern look and cold gaze gave him a shiver. She stepped at the table and sat down on the opposite of him.

"Apologies for my late appearance." she fetched herself a cup of tea. Her cup was decorated with gold which simmered in the light. But behind that shimmer he didn't miss the side eye she gave him. "I wasn't expecting you following an invite."

"What is that supposed to mean?" who did this woman think she was? He was still Satoru Gojo. And normally people respected him for that.

She took a long sip and somehow that made him shut up. She placed her cup carefully on the table and smiled at him. But something about that smile made him uneasy. "You haven't touched your tea, have you Mr. Gojo?"

"No, I haven't." he glanced at his untouched cup. It wasn't as fancy as hers.

"Is the cup offending you?" she seemed to have followed his glance. "If it is, my apologies but in one of our last meetings with the Gojo Clan one of our family cups has been destroyed. Forgive me for being hesitant to give one to the likes of you again."

Oh, this woman knew how to piss someone of. "In one of the last meetings with the Gojo Clan? I can't remember such a meeting."

At that she smiled fully while her eyes somehow became more icy. "You can't, can't you?"

Something wasn't adding up. Satoru had to be at every meeting his Clan had. He was the head of the Clan for a reason. Did he skip a meeting? But then he had to catch up the meeting. So what was he forgetting?

He felt her gaze on him as he tried to remember any solution to this. She was smiling as she watched him frown.

"The meetings with the Gojo Clan were rather a  success, you know? I had hoped to strengthen the relationship of our Clans." she took another sip. "Well, it is still left to be desired."

"I'm sorry," he didn't want to dance around the question any longer. This woman was obviously looking down on him right now and he couldn't stand it. And even though he couldn't place a name to the face, it seemed so strangely familiar. "But have we met before?"

She placed her cup on the table with force. "Well, we did see each other on a rather big occasion, but I am not mad at you for forgetting me."

Something in the room shifted as she stood up and opened the door again. "Shihiro? Our guest hasn't touched his tea. Could you bring another cup and fresh tea, please?"

He heard a muffled voice agreeing and steps running away from the room. "I really don't need any tea."

She sat down again carefully while making sure not to knock something over. "But it is our duty and our sign for hospitality! I insist."

And just like that the tea inside his cup was warm again. His gut was killing him, but under her gaze he did take a small sip out of the cup of tea.

It tasted... Bitter.

"Well, you are probably wondering why I have called you here." she looked slightly satisfied. And for the first time he seemed to remember this woman.

She was the one who gave him that icy look at his wedding. She was the one sawing him leave. The one who tsked at his doing and only raised an eyebrow as he saw her.

"I wanted to talk with my son in law about his wife and their marriage."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"Lovely weather, isn't it?"

She was right. The sun was shining and the wind was not too strong. While sitting here on the balcony, you had an amazing view of the garden from above.

"Yeah it is." The tea was a bit warmer and sweeter than the tea you knew and normally drank. You liked it.

Ayaka had talked with the cooks in the kitchen, you didn't know about what but you heard much laughter. Their voices seemed so much louder than before, the whole estate so much more lively with her here.

"I always spent my time in the garden and kitchen when I lived here, you know?" she sighed dreamily. "Especially with that weather."

Her posture was screaming authority. Elegance and experience. However her arms weren't tense, they seemed like they were open.

"Do you like it here?"

There it was. You were ready for this question, ready to calm all her possible worries.

"I do. I'm glad I was so lucky to marry Sat-"

She chuckled and shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Do you like it here?"

She seemed amused at your dumbfounded face. You watched as she took another sip. You looked at the beautiful garden which had so many flowers you adored every day. Hina, who was bringing another teapot with fresh tea.

"I do." carefully, you took your teacup. "It's calming here."

She was watching you as you took another sip. Her small smile never leaving. She leaned a bit forward, her arms bow crossed but somehow still seemed open.

"But.." you placed the teacup on the table. "It's also too calm sometimes."

Hesitant you looked at the older woman sitting in front of you. "Do you know what I mean?"

A pleasant breeze surprised you, the teacups shaking a bit. Ayaka leaned now slowly back again, in her hand her teacup.

"When Satoru was little.." her eyes were locked on her tea. "He always wanted to go outside. He didn't like the mansion, the kitchen or the garden. After he was born I was always kept moving."

She sighed and closed her eyes. She looked like one of these stone statures which were built to admire.

"I didn't want to have it any other way."

There was a silence which followed her words, embracing you and calming your senses.

"I still love to tend the garden and chat in the kitchen. But something inside me was really devastated when my little boy started to leave me alone."

There was something inside her voice. Something that made you feel with her.

"Do you like him?"

You couldn't help but grip your teacup stronger. "He is my husband."

She opened her eyes again, looking at you with such tenderness. "He is."

Your mouth seemed so dry. You sipped on the teacup again hoping it would also give you words to use. But it didn't.

"My marriage was also arranged, you know?" she slightly tilted her head. "The Gojo Clan was trying for decades to get another six eyes and infinity user. That's why my husband and I married."

She fetched herself fresh tea and tried to cool it down. "Our wedding was big. The honeymoon successful and we got the perfect child. Well in the book." she chuckled a bit. "But I never liked my husband."

"He was my acquaintance, nothing more."

She filled your cup too, watching you and waiting for you to answer.

"You were right." you took your teacup again, a small smile stole itself onto your face. "In our first meeting."

She smiled and laughed quietly.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"I wasn't informed that my mother in law wanted to speak to me." Satoru never felt so tense before. His hands gripping at each other for dear life. "I was being told that just someone wanted a meeting."

"Yeah, after all I wasn't sure you would even show up." this woman seemed so smug just by simply taking a sip, it drove him mad.

That was your mother.

Oh, he wanted to say so much to her. He had read what this woman had written to you. He had seen how you had sobbed in your sleep and whispered her name. Begging her to listen and stop.

But he didn't want her to go after you for anything he said. You still seemed to be so reliable on your mother.

"What do you want?" he tried to sound as polite as possible, he really did but there was just something that made him see red when he looked at her. Made him see your exhausted face.

She placed her teacup on the table again, her face now with a frown. "Well, my dear son in law," she straightened her position. "It has come to my understanding that you have still not consumed with your wife."

His mouth dried out by the second her words left hers. He couldn't believe how she could just sit there and say-

"Do you feel disgusted by her?"

And mean it unironically.

He couldn't move, just stare at this woman before him. He gripped his teacup realizing his tea was cold again, since he hadn't touched it since his first sip.

She shook her head, her face now looking at him disapproving. "Even if you did, there are solutions for it. I know my daughter isn't the brightest diamond in the jewelry box, but she knows that she should fulfill her duties as your wife."

She took another sip. "There are... Ways to make you feel more attracted to her."

"Stop talking." his teeth had started to grit.

She tsked at him. "I'm just suggesting ways to make this arrangement work. As her mother that is my duty."

"I don't care." he shook his head. "I don't care that you are her mother."

There was no politeness left in his voice. He couldn't bring himself for even a little bit.

"I forbid you from talking about my wife like that."

Her body stiffened, just slightly but enough for him to catch it. She inspected him, her look now cautious. "How dare you-"

She broke off. Her eyes lit up from realization. And then she smiled that eerily smile again.

"I see." she chuckled. A shiver went down his spine. "Does she not want to consume?"

"If so there is the same solution and I could talk with her." she took another loud sip. Her body now completely relaxed as if she wasn't talking about...

"Are you..." he couldn't believe this woman. "Are you seriously suggesting to drug my wife?"

She stared at him for a couple of seconds as if she was taken back by his reaction. Then she smiled again. "She would understand, I'm sure. Anything for the heir."

He stood up. This room, this floor felt like it was burning. No, like he was burning. His infinity unsteady as he was slightly shaking.

"The 'heir' doesn't matter to you. Whatever we are doing doesn't matter to you." he tried to remain a calm voice. "You can drink this bitter tea for the rest of your life for all I care. But don't talk about my wife as if she is just a tool."

She looked up at him, her smile now falling at his words. "I am trying to make this arrangement work, for my daughter-"

"Well, you don't talk about her as if she was your daughter." a scoff left his lips. "Who would suggest drugging their own daughter?"

She stood up. Her eyes now wide and staring at him while her lips were a thin line. "You don't know what a wife has to sacrifice, boy."

"What a mother has to sacrifice."

This woman before him was shaking. But not because of fear he knew that. He just couldn't understand how she was ticking, how a human would say such things.

"Shikabane?" a male voice interrupted the cold atmosphere in the room. The call wasn't loud but still very demanding.

"Coming!" his mother in law called back, her tense shoulders now falling.

She looked at him with many emotions, he could see it in her eyes. But one stuck out. Envy.

"Get out of my house, Satoru Gojo."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It was later than usual.

You didn't remember much, since you fell asleep on the couch in the living room shortly after Ayaka left.

She was a nice lady. The conversation with her lasted long into the afternoon, maybe even a bit into the evening. She suggested to come often for a cup of tea and you agreed.

But only if you were informed a couple of days prior.

It was much later than usual. You had slept two to three hours since she left and the kitchen was already closed.

You should go into your room and rest. But you didn't. Because you still wanted to see him.

Your legs were heavy but you still got up and made your way into the garden.

It was cold since it was probably almost night. But it was also refreshing. And under the moonlight the flowers shone in a new kind of way.

Yesterday you wouldn't have sat down on the ground next to these flowers, since you were always told that wasn't how a lady should behave. But today it felt like breathing to just sit down and admire those blooming stars up close.

A breeze made you shiver but it somehow also felt good. Alive.

You looked around, the plants around you dancing in the wind.

Till your gaze fell on him.

He was standing at the door. Leaning on the doorframe while his look remained on you. His arms crossed and a small smile on his lips.

"Are you not cold?" He had that warm look which made you smile back at him.

"I am." You stood up again, making your way towards him. "But I am also really warm."

He shook his head with resignation but still a smile. "Sometimes I can't believe how you... Endure so much."

As you stood before him and caught that uncertainty in his eyes, you thought that maybe this wasn't about coldness.

"Satoru are you okay?"

His smile got a bit smaller. His normally so tall and strong frame seemed out of glass. You were scared to come any closer.

And then he embraced you.

His strong arms pulling you gently towards him and holding onto you for dear life. His chest to your face, you could hear his heartbeat. You put your arms around his warm frame too.

You didn't know what was bothering him and you felt like right now wasn't the moment to ask him. Regardless you were sure to comfort him.

For all he was still your Husband. Your Satoru.

"I am now."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Ongoing Taglist (I will add everyone in the Masterlist):

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@n1vi @enouche @shutuppeter @just-pure-trash

[dclovesdanny]

Dcxdp

Dan/Danny/Dani 2/5

Dan raising Ellie and Danny in Central City

Due to the GIW interfering and almost killing everyone, Danielle was destabilized and Danny was almost completely ended.

Dan, who had been doing community service with Clockwork, was now saddled with his younger self who was now a baby, and his younger self’s clone, who was now a toddler, both of whom had very little memories of before.

Due to Vlad and the GIW, being dicks, it wasn’t safe for Danny or Ellie to remain in Amity while the fighting was going on. So, clockwork decided that Dan, for the rest of his parole, was going to raise both halfas in the immortal world, since staying in the infinite realms was not good for them.

Thankfully, clockwork and Tucker created a fake identity. He was now Dante times, a single father of a girl named Eleanor and a boy named Danny. Clock work even lined up a job for him as a mechanic at a shop in Central city.

He even had a slightly odd friendship with a guy named Roy, a single dad who lived in Central City due to some problems with his father, and had an adorable little girl named Lian.(Ellie and Lian were best friends from the moment they met, and both girls doted on baby Danny.)

Wally hadn’t expected much when he found out Roy was living in Central city. It was a well-known fact that he had been feuding with Green Arrow for a while, and the Flash Family had agreed to let Roy hide out here. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the guy who Bart had warned them all about, the guy that had taken out all the heroes, including Batman, in his nightmare future, talking to Roy over coffee while a girl who looked exactly like him play dolls with Lian. He especially wasn’t expecting to see the man Bart described as a sadistic monster soothe a crying baby boy who looked almost exactly like him.

Wally got the feeling they would have to have a Flash Family meeting soon, and started debating on bringing Roy.

[ed-recoverry]

Inspired by the Cody Ko situation…

Shoutout to all “imperfect victims”

Though there are no such thing as an imperfect victim, shout out to all victims who have traits that make people hesitate to believe you.

Shoutout to victims who lie a lot.

Shoutout to victims who have hurt others.

Shoutout to victims who have done bad things.

Shoutout to victims who are “annoying” or “unlikeable.”

Shoutout to victims who are hard to be around.

Shoutout to victims where the lines are blurred.

Shoutout to victims who are “difficult.”

Shoutout to victims who are “complicated.”

Shoutout to victims whose case was quickly dismissed.

Shoutout to victims who were blown off.

Shoutout to victims who were hurt by a “good” person.

Shoutout to victims who exaggerate.

Shoutout to victims who forget details.

Shoutout to victims who don’t “act” like a victim (whatever that means).

Shoutout to victims who are addicts or criminals.

Your reputation and or bad characteristics do not erase what you went through. You know what happened to you is real. And that’s all that matters. I believe you and others will too.

[exquisitexagony]

He’s stood outside for a few minutes with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Slow inhales released even slower as the adrenaline rush from fear wears off. Washes away to be replaced with a nicotine high. Then he hears Leo step outside and flinches, startled by her sudden appearance. Plucking the cigarette from his lips, he blows the smoke at the ground as she steps in front of him, avoiding her gaze. Ashamed.

“Nah…” he mutters, shaking his head lightly as she apologises, says his dad was wrong. “He was just trying to teach me not to be such a baby.” The word ‘baby’ is emphasized a little, not to put any blame on Leo, but in recognition she had thought the very same thing. 

“He was probably right, though…In the end.” Another short drag from the cigarette, his other hand hanging loosely in his pocket. A sigh, looking up finally with a few rapid blinks. “I’ll never grow out of it.”

What she was dishing out as light joking was obviously not being received that way. Her eyes widen a bit in horror as he talks of his past experiences. The amusement she had been feeling is suddenly leeched from her and replaced with instant regret. Leo swallows, watching quietly as he gathers his cigarettes and heads outside.

Shit.

For a moment she lingers, trying to decide if she should give him space or go off in pursuit. While she contemplates her searches the rest of the bathroom for any other unwanted guests, finding a bug here and there which she quickly disposes of. With a groaning sigh she turns, trotting out of the front door after him.

“Antoine.” Leo frowns as she gets closer, tongue parting her lips to wet them. She stands directly in front of him now, looking him in the eye if he allows her to. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you, I’m really sorry.” She inflates her cheeks with a breath before letting it out slowly. “I won’t joke around with you like that again, okay?” Her gaze drifts down to her feet, then across the grass, finally across the street – idly staring around for a few seconds before looking back to him. “That was a really fucked up thing for your dad to do to you.”

[pain-is-my-game]

One of the worst realizations that I have ever made is realizing that all I ever wanted was to be loved by my parents. I never would've turned out like this if they just loved me unconditionally.

[rotting-bitch]

I once killed a plant by giving it too much water. I worry that love is violence.

[theburntdaughter]

It is a valid response.

[exquisitexagony]

As Flynn's head rested against his own, Sam felt somehow comforted. Just knowing he was there, despite what his parents had told him all those years ago, was enough to make him feel less like a screw up. Less like he was defected somehow.

Sad eyes flicker up to meet Flynn's as he turns around a little. The darkness was convenient, even if Flynn could see him, it felt less like he was being stared at. His good ear was close enough to Flynn's lips, too, that he could hear him just fine.

"It's...sort of...c-- er...complicated," xe admitted a bit hesitantly, xyr voice almost a whisper now even thinking about it. "They...thought I was broken. That I would...be...be a bad...influence? Or something like that, I don't--" A shake of xyr head, closing xyr eyes tightly now. Flashbacks of the therapy xe had endured hit xem so hard they felt nauseated. Xe took a deep breath. Perhaps it was best to leave out some of the details...For xyr own sake. Xe thought xe could talk about this now, but apparently it was still more tender than xe had anticipated.

"It- it- it...Led them to send me to therapy and, um, you know, like...Try to change me. Um, fix me? But, uh, twhen it- they decided--" A clearing of the throat, biting the inside of his cheek when he felt tears sting his eyes. "It was better. If I just stayed...away. Y- you know, for the...the kid. My- my- my brother." A shrug. "I don't...I don't kn- know if he would even- even recognize me now." Suddenly, he moved away just a little, shyly swiping at the tears he could now feel on his cheek with a sniffle.

"Sorry..."

Flynn hums, sadly, tilting his head to rest against Sami's.

"I'm sorry." He couldn't imagine having a fight so bad he couldn't see Elara again - but the pain of not being able to see his family was one that Flynn well understood.

He circles his arms around his boyfriend's waist, turning a little in his hold to better offer comfort. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want. But I'd like to hear about it, if you do." After all, this was another thing that Flynn never quite understood - gender and sexuality and the way some humans had a problem with it for seemingly no reason at all.

[incorrectbatfam]