Renaissance || Jotaro x Reader

III: Mother

⚠️TW: Abuse ⚠️

It was about time she rioted. She pushed the male away from her, regaining a sense of balance.

It wasn't necessarily voluntarily though.

She didn't really know herself what was happening. It was almost as if her own body was moving on it's own.

Y/N aggressively threw her bag at him, knocking furniture over here and there. She screamed and cried to her limit, no matter how hard her father tried to stop her.
"I hate this! You're a fucking scum! You should've died instead of mom!"

He attempted to approach her in a more dominant way, grabbing ahold of her wrist. Her father slapped her hard, hard on the face.
"Don't ever say that in my fucking house."
"I hate you! I wish you were never my dad! I hate you! I'm sick of this! You keep bringing me down like that's going to benefit your bitch ass! Why can't you be a normal person with some fucking morals?!"

He silenced himself.

That low, maniac laughter filled Y/N's ears, bringing her back into consciousness.
"You little whore."

To her surprise, he turns around, walking away from her, groggily grabbing the half full glass bottle from the table.
"Go to your room."
"..."
"Now!"

Stomping upstairs, she tried to suppress her anger and whatever emotions might've hidden behind her cover, she stared at herself in the mirror, gazing at the gruesome injuries she'd gain. Maybe that wasn't the best choice, but she could feel it in her gut. Something had bound to happen. As she stepped into the shower, she sighed. Flinching at the water hitting a scratch on her stomach, she groaned.

This wasn't like herself at all.

Yet it felt so good.

Mom.

Mother, who would you side with if you were still here?

Your lover, or your daughter?

The one thought that truly stuck to her. She had longed for the answer for years. She remember that somewhat short yet slender figure grasp onto that monster of a father's arm, laughing oh so elegantly. Y/N could remember that sweet yet bland smile. Y/N could remember her having a family.

She felt her fists tightening, her nails digging into her palms. Bringing her hands up to her face, she watches as the trail of blood slides down slowly. Watching the water wash away that red substance. She chuckles, turning off the water.

As she wrapped herself with a towel, Y/N looks at herself once again in the mirror.

She really did look like her mother.
But why did her father hate Y/N so much?

Y/N wished she could be held in a warm embrace again.
She wish she could feel safe once again.
Those thin, yet graceful arms hugging as tight as she could.

It felt like almost nothing was touching Y/N yet it meant so much.

short chapter!! sorry
i havent been updating in a while mb lolololol
also going to be adding some silent voice songssjd along with other soundtracks because it yk,

to add on to the sentimental stuff