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yoosungiib · 7 years ago

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Hi I have a request where they meet the MC's parents and see how they insult her I'm sorry if it's a bother I'm so scared to ask for an request you don't have to do it again sorry if it's a bother

Please don’t ever be scared to send in a request. I love to write for you guys and I love to hear what you guys think. And don’t worry about ever bothering me with a request. I’ll write whatever people send into me unless it really is something I am uncomfortable with, but that rarely happens. I hope you enjoy this, and I really hope this doesn’t happen to you. Feel free to message me if you need to talk, or just want someone to listen to you vent.

RFA + Minor Trio reacting to a female MC’s parents insulting her

~~~

★ Yoosung ★

Yoosung was already very nervous about meeting your parents; what if he said the wrong thing, what if they didn’t like him, what if he farts by accident and it’s really loud and smelly?

All these possibilities were floating around in his brain as he awkwardly shook your dads hand and sat down in the booth.

After about three minutes of awkward silence, things began to go well as Yoosung started talking about work as a vet, and bonded with your dad who also happened to play LOLOL.

But then you knocked over your drink. There was hardly anything left but it made a small mess getting the napkins wet.

Yoosung straight away went to help you but stopped cold when your mother began to shout at you.

“You stupid girl! Can you do anything without making a mess? God, sometimes I wonder if I raised a human or monkey.”

“You’re lucky your soda didn’t get on my pants. They are worth more than your entire life,” your father spat.

Your parents made a huge mistake criticizing you though.

Yandere mode: a c t i v a t e d

“It was an accident,” Yoosung snarled as his face scrunched up in anger. He stood up straight, glaring down at your parents, who were still clearly agitated, but a little uncomfortable now under Yoosung’s gaze. “How could you treat your own daughter so terribly. We’re in public and everyone can hear how ill-mannered you guys are. I hate to know what you guys are like at home.”

He grabbed your arm and purse, and pulled you from the booth, keeping you in front of him and away from your parents as they rose and tried to get you guys to sit back down.

“No. You will not come near her, ever again. Not unless you guys learn how to respect her.

“I won’t let you touch her again, so heed my warning, don’t come looking for her,” he warns.

May have also made a comment about your dads guild being shit.

In the cab back home, Yoosung frowns as he watches you stare aimlessly out the window with your head pressed against the glass. He could see a glimpse of your reflection and the couple tears that slipped down it. He thought he maybe was a little extreme telling your parents they couldn’t see you again, but as he sees it, you are much better without them anyways.

He grins a little when he sees you smile as he wraps his arms around your waist and gently pulls you to him. He rests your back against his chest and keeps you close and steady as the car bumps up and down. He kisses just below your ear and whispers, “I’m always going to protect you. I may look small but I’m fierce.”

♪ Zen ♪

Oh, hell no.

He went through this with his parents so he knows how it feels.

Your parents made comments about you holding him back, teased you for your appearance, made fun of your job, called you stupid, pointed out any insecurity you may have.

Zen was livid.

The second he sees the tear slip down your face he is up and arms, shouting at your parents for being so disrespectful towards you and for dare making such a rude comment about you.

If they weren’t at a pub filled with people, Zen may have made a bigger scene then he did, but he didn’t want to embarrass or draw attention to you.

He could see you breaking down, so he didn’t want to make things worse.

“There is a special place in hell for parents who take pleasure out of making their children feel bad about themselves,” he spits at them, slamming his drink on the table. He tosses some money at a confused bartender and pulls you from the pub, ignoring the shouts from your parents as they demand you to come back.

Outside the pub, unable to hold in any of your tears you let out a wretched sob and collapse against Zen’s chest.

He coo’s to you gently, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back. He nestles his face on the top of your head, and he rocks you back and forth.

“I-I’m so sorry, Zen, that was so humiliating, I didn’t think they would do that, and-”

“What are you apologizing for? This isn’t your fault. And I swear, MC, I will make sure they never insult you again.”

You let out a small laugh into his chest. “You can’t do that. They’re my parents.”

“I don’t care. That doesn’t give them the right to treat you so poorly.

“You know everything they said in there is untrue, right? You don’t hold me back, you’re not pathetic, you’re not stupid. I hope you didn’t believe them for a second.”

He took you home after that and asked Jumin for a favor; he needed your parents to get the message that their behavior towards you would not be tolerated. And after Zen explained to Jumin what happened, Jumin was more than willing to help. The two of them drafted a letter with a threat of legal actions if they ever tried to insult you again. It was made very clear it would be marked as harassment.

Zen refused to tell you what made your parents stop being cruel to you all of a sudden. He didn’t want you to be upset knowing he decided to take a sort of legal action. But he couldn’t bare to see you so upset like you were at the bar. He was willing to do anything, including talking to the person he hated the most and using money to get rid of a problem.

❀ Jaehee ❀

At first, when Jaehee saw how nervous you were after inviting your parents for lunch at the cafe, she thought it had to do with her.

Why would you be so nervous about asking your parents over for dinner if it wasn’t that you were somewhat concerned with them meeting her?

But then when your parents sat down at the small table by the window and were nibbling at their treats did Jaehee realize just why you were so nervous.

Your parents were mean.

Every second it seemed they hurled an insult at you, which you just took with a grain of salt.

You’d smile and awkwardly laugh, then look at Jaehee and mouth to her it’s fine. You could see Jaehee was getting a little worked up, and Jaehee could see just how you too were becoming unsettled.

Jaehee completely lost it after the homophobic remarks.

“We brought you so many young and handsome men, and yet you always went for women. I don’t know where I went wrong sometimes.”

Your father’s ignorance struck a chord in both of you. You let out an exasperated sigh as you excused yourself, Jaehee quickly following after you.

“Why do you stand for this?” she asks, confusion written clearly on her face.

You just shrug and try to pass off like it didn’t upset you, but Jaehee could see that it did just that. “They’ve always been like this. You get used to it. Let’s just get this done and then we won’t have to see them until our wedding.”

“Will they even come?”

Your breath hitched slightly, and you gasped a little when Jaehee left you in the backroom to go back out to your parents. You thought she was going to sit down and just do as you suggested, but you suddenly heard Jaehee snapping at your parents. You came back out from the backroom and watched as Jaehee confronted your parents on their behaviors.

“Do you not see how much you upset your daughter? She may take this abuse from you, but I won’t. I am going to ask you politely to please leave our cafe and I suggest that you guys do not come back. You are not welcome here. Not if you’re going to treat my fiance like this.”

And with a huff, your parents left.

Jaehee sighed as she walked back towards you, gently taking your hand in hers.

“I hope I did not upset you just then, but you shouldn’t let them talk to you like that. You don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t know, sometimes I think that they might-”

“MC,” Jaehee warned, her hand resting on your shoulder tenderly. “You don’t deserve it.”

☂ Jumin ☂

Jumin had booked reservations at the most elegant of restaurants in Korea for meeting your parents.

He wanted to make a good impression, and he wanted to them to know how happy he was to be married to their daughter. He wanted your parents to know how happy he was about bringing them into his family.

The dinner was going really well until your mother made a crude comment that was enough to make Jumin cough on his wine; “I can only wonder just how good my daughter is in your bed for you to stay married to her. I can not think of a single achievement that would make you want to be with her.”

Jumin was very quick to your defense.

Though he was incredibly shocked and surprised that any parent would say such an inappropriate thing about their child, he needed to make it very clear to your mother he would not allow her to make such comments, and he would make it very clear just why he married you.

“You clearly do not know your daughter very well then. She has achieved very much in her life. And to think you think I would stoop so low as to only marry some for a ‘good bed’, you are dead wrong. I married your daughter for their kind heart, their compassion, their desire to help others, and her beauty. I will not allow you to sit there and insult her. Certainly not after I’ve paid a lot of money to fly you guys here and to have a nice dinner with you. So I suggest you apologize this moment or this dinner will be done, and you can have your bags packed and be ready to leave by the hour. It is your choice.

“Oh, and as for our sexual activities since you are so curious; Kitten knows how to please her master well.”

Both your parents huffed before begrudgingly apologizing. Jumin was about to say something about it not being sincere enough, but you had stopped him, and gave him a small smile.

That night you thanked him by the window, the dull light from the moon shining down on you guys, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

“No need to thank me, darling. I am your husband and I will defend you whenever someone does you wrong.”

☺ Seven/Saeyoung ☺

Anger is an understatement.

The bubbly 707, Defender of Justice, was gone in a heartbeat the second the first insult came tumbling out of your fathers mouth.

Before he could react, your mother was spatting another one, startling you as she snapped.

Seven was a little… flabbergasted.

What surprised him the most was though you would get startled, you wouldn’t react. You’d just smile and nod your head, keeping your gaze down. Seven let out an exasperated laugh, leaning across the table at the 90’s dinner towards your father.

“I’m sorry, but who the hell do you think you are talking to?”

Your father rose an eyebrow, taking a bite of his food. “My daughter. I have the right to tell her just how I feel, and if I feel she is being a pig, I’ll say so.”

In a heartbeat, Seven grabbed your father’s wrist, twisting it until it made a snapping noise and your father let out a howl.

You were in shock,

Your mother let out a scream.

“I don’t think so,” Seven said, a grave tone to his voice. “I’ll tell you this now. If you think you can get away with how you talk to your daughter.” He twisted the wrist a little more, a few more cracking sounds made. “You are dead wrong.”

He released your father’s wrist and laughed as the man writhed in pain. Your father and your mother quickly rush out of the dinner, leaving you and Seven.

Seven turned to you, giggling softly as he wrapped his arms around you.

“S-Seven, don’t you think that was a bit too much?”

“No. I think I should have done a lot more, but we are in public.”

“But Seven, they’re my parents-”

“Therefore they should treat you with respect. Now come on, let’s enjoy our dinner. We can go home after and have a movie marathon with Saeran! How about that?”

You smiled softly, resting your head on Seven’s shoulder, and allowed him to feed you. He was right, you did deserve respect. And you were sure as hell glad you had such a wonderful boyfriend to remind you.

❆ V ❆

V had met your parents before, without you, and they always seemed like wonderful people. So he didn’t understand why you were so upset that he invited them over for dinner.

He figured out why as he sat at the table and listened to them spit insult after insult at you.

He watched as you tried not to fall apart in front of them, keeping your head high and your gaze on your food.

V is not someone to usually show his anger, but it was getting pretty hard to hold it back at this point.

You had reached for the salt, yet your hand accidently knocked it over and bits of white got onto the blue cover on the table. It was a small mess, but your parents made a huge deal out of it.

“See what I mean? Jihyun, you are better off without her. She’ll bring nothing but hardship.”

“Take this from her parents who had to live with her for twenty years. It doesn’t end here.”

At that, V watched as you slapped your napkin down on the table and excused yourself, going to the bedroom. He was quick to follow you, closing the door behind him and pulling you towards him.

“This is why I didn’t want them over, V, all they do is criticize me. Sometimes I think maybe they’re right and I’m as stupid as they say.”

V shook his head, brushing the hair out of your face before pulling you back to his chest. “No, you are not stupid. Everything they have said tonight is wrong. Stay here and I’ll be back. We’ll watch a movie together, and I’ll bring some snacks. But first I need to get rid of our guests.”

He walked back to the dinning room, a smile on his face though he was ready to tear apart your parents. They asked where you were but he said they didn’t need to know.

“As for you guys, I would like you to leave our household. You have disturbed it’s peace and you are no longer welcome. In this household, we respect each other and we love each other. Clearly, you don’t know how to do anything of that, so therefore, you are not welcome here. I’ll ask you one more time to please gather your things and leave.”

Your two parents spat a few curses at him but he didn’t care. He just smiled and endured it, showing them to the door and locking it behind them. He then went back to you and cuddled besides you, his blue hair tickling your cheek. For the rest of the night, he worked to remind you just how wonderful you are and just how much he cares for you.

☻ Saeran/Unknown ☻

For a few moments, he was silent and in shock.

For a few moments, he thought he was a child again, back at home where his mother was cruel and abusive and hurled the same insults your parents hurled at you to him.

Your parents cruel words did not reach the extent of his mothers. But it was enough to remind him of his mother’s cruel behavior.

He was angry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw his dinner across the room for god sakes.

But then he heard you sniffle. And he look down at you next to him on the couch, and he saw how your head hung pitifully, and a few stray tears slipped down your face.

If anything, this was affecting you more than him because these were your parents, not his. And they were treating you terribly.

He remembered a time he told you that you would never understand the abuse he endured, but as of now he was realizing that wasn’t particularly true. You did understand to an extent because you have lived through some of it.

He thought back to when he would have panic attacks or nightmares about his mother, and you would always comfort him and reassure him that he was safe, loved and protected.

He needed to do that for you now; comfort you, and reassure you that you are safe, loved, and protected.

But first he had to get you out of this damn house and away from the sorry excuse of your parents.

“She is not the problem, you are, you pieces of shit.”

The whole room went silent at Saeran’s curse, none of them having expected it from the quiet boy. Of course, none of them would know what a temper Saeran has, and what a small tolerance he has for disrespect and attitude, especially of that towards his girlfriend. No, he went to the dinner dressed in a nice button up, smiled whenever he was spoken too and always responded softly. Was very protective of you, but not overly protective. Just the clingy type. So the sudden bite in his voice and the daggers he was shooting across the room with his mint eyes was enough to startle and threaten everyone.

You whispered softly to him, telling him he didn’t need to do this, that it was alright, but he wouldn’t let them talk to you like this. He wouldn’t let them insult you or disrespect you.

You never let anyone give him bullshit, and he certainly was not about to let anyone give you it.

“How could you say something so horrible to your own daughter? Your suppose to cherish your children, not belittle them.”

“She’s our daughter, we can talk to her anyway we want to,” your father said taking a sip of his drink ever so calmly.

That was a big mistake.

You gasped as Saeran rose from the couch and started to make slow strides to your father, his voice gradually becoming deepers and his eyes squinting. The Unknown in him he works so hard on to hide was coming to light.

“You think because she’s your daughter you can treat her like that? You think because you are her father and you her mother you can abuse her?”

“We do not abuse-”

“That is exactly what you do! If you get pleasure out of making your child feel bad about themselves, that makes you abusive. You’re all sick.”

At this point, Saeran was up in your father’s face, his nose inches away from your fathers who tried to push himself back against the armchair he sat in. Only now did your father start to show a little fear at the boy in front of him.

Saerans eyes and voice softened when he felt one of your small hands on his shoulder, and the other take his hand. He turned to look at you, and he could see how pale you were and how read your eyes were. You gave him a small smile and tugged slightly on his arm. You told him you just wanted to go home.

He nodded, gave a final glare to your parents and lead you out the door with a tight grip on your hand.

The whole car ride was silent. Saeran was furious just listening to you trying to choke back sobs. You thought he was going to take you home but he surprised you by pulling into the parking lot of the ice cream parlor. Saeran let out a sigh before turning to you, his body moving awkwardly in the small confinement of the car. He reached over to gently cup your cheek, yous thumb stroking just beneath your eye.

“I… I apologize for my behavior. I was no better.”

You let out a small laugh, placing your hand against his own your cheek. “What are you talking about? You were sticking up for me. I’m so grateful for that. No one has ever stuck up to them for me before,” you say, your voice cracking. It was painful for Saeran to hear. He bent down to gently kiss you, letting his lips linger there before he pulled back slightly and whispered against your lips;

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you. I’ll never let anyone be ill mannered towards you. What do you always tell me? That you’d walk the entire earth just to make me happy?

“I’d do the same for you in a heartbeat.”

✌ Vanderwood ✌

Appalled.

It was supposed to be a nice dinner where Vanderwood could meet your parents.

You guys had gone to your favorite restaurant.

But everything went downhill fast.

Vanderwood is not someone to usually show their emotions, if ever, but from the first insult your parents hurled at you his blood was boiling.

He was willing to stay quiet after you put your hand on his thigh beneath the table to calm him down.

When he looked towards you and saw the sad smile on your face, he could tell you were used to this, and that just angered him even more.

You deserved respect, especially from your parents. You were their daughter for christ sakes. Why would they be so cruel to you?

It was the comment on how you were a disappointment, and the single tear that slipped down your face that made him snap.

Without a word, he just took your hand in his and pulled you away from the table. When your parents starting asking where you guys were going, he just turned to look at them and spatted, “We are going home.”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure you daughter realizes everything that you have said tonight is bullshit, and she does not deserve this treatment.”

The whole ride home was silent. Vanderwood’s fingers curled tightly around the wheel, and he would fiercely turn and speed up whenever he felt a sudden bit of anger. Back at home, he sat you down on the couch and went to make you tea. When he got back, he sighed as he saw you quickly wiping away your tears.

He sat besides you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him. His leather hands playing with your hair soothingly, and his lips pressed against your hairline.

He felt now wasn’t the time to talk, but just the time to hold you and keep you warm and comforted. That’s what you needed after what you endured at that dinner.

When he felt the time was right, as he kissed up your neck to your cheek, he whispered against your skin, turning you towards him slightly. “For every mean word they said to night, I’ll replace with a kind one. Bare with me though, this isn’t easy. I’m not used to this.

“You are not stupid. You are intelligent. You are the smartest woman I have ever met.

“You are not ugly. You are beautiful. Your beauty outshines a blooming rose.

“You are not useless. You are worth so much. I can not imagine a life without you.

“You are not a disappointment. You are so, so far from that. You make me proud every day with how you stand tall and smile through everything.

“I don’t hate you. I love you. That is why I married you.”

You smiled, moving your hands to go into his long, auburn hair, tugging slightly so you could pull his lips to yours.

You cuddled into his chest and laughed slightly as you listened to his heart beat. “You didn’t have to do that, honey. Though you blush, I can see you cringing.”

Vanderwood snorted, patting your back gently. “It’s worth the cringe to tell you just how much you mean to me.”

Cringed again.

But he really loves you so it’s ok.

~~~

Requests are closed right now, but to find rules of requests you can check out my masterlist page!

#Yoosung Kim #Zen #Hyun Ryu #Jaehee Kang #Jumin Han #Seven #Luciel Choi #Saeyoung Choi #V #Jihyun Kim #Saeran Choi #Mystic messenger #Mysme #Mystic messenger Headcanon #Mysme Headcanon #Vanderwood #Mary Vanderwood 3rd

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corvid-knight · 7 years ago

Text

Exit Strategy

In which Dirk proves that he's very good at making plans and following through with them, and Bro isn't as good of a guardian as he seemed.

(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13825860)

It always gets worse when D's not home. How bad it actually is, is directly proportionate to the length of time he's gone. Maybe to the square of the latter quantity, or some exponential value; you're damn sure that it's a curve rather than a nice simple linear equation. It accelerates too fast and too hard to be a straight line.

Your eldest brother hasn't been home for more than a week at a time in more than a year. A week is not fucking enough to get your other older brother to reset any more than the very worst of his behaviours, and as soon as D's gone Bro goes right back to making your life hell.

There's a limit to how much time you can spend away from the apartment, and staying away too long means he gets frustrated and it's worse when you come home. There's a limit to how much time you can spend in your room, too, one imposed both by your need to eat and move and do things you can't quite do in there, and by his need to coax you out to spar with him every fucking day.

"Spar" isn't the right word. That implies you're supposed to be practicing, learning something, honing skills. These sessions happen because he's bored, and because he can make you do almost anything he wants, and maybe because he likes hurting people. Which he does—even though you're good enough with a sword to (usually) keep your skin intact, you've seen his face when he gets pissed enough or you get sloppy enough for him to score a hit that starts you bleeding.

He likes it.

It's fucking you up. Not that he likes seeing you hurt—you can actually forgive automatic reactions—but that you don't have any choice here, any agency, any fucking power in your life. (Which isn't even true. You've got money, thanks to a semi-legal programming company you started just to see if you could, and you've got a fully-fledged false identity that's ten years older than you are in reality that you created for the same reason. Put the two together and you can, theoretically, do almost anything you want.)

(Theoretically.)

Theories aren't helping you. You're fourteen years old, you fight your older brother every day when your younger brother's at school (sometimes when Dave's home, too, but usually Bro is more distracted when you're not the only one to focus on and you can just escape back into your room), you see a therapist once a week. You find yourself on the edge of wanting to lie to her, too, because she asks you how many bad days you've had and she asks you if you've been cutting yourself or wanting to cut and there's no way to say the full truth.

Almost all days are bad and they're getting worse.

You don't hurt yourself, but the desire's there, too fucking strong for you to dare to look at it straight-on. It's wanting to pick up one of Bro's swords and let your hands slip across the edge. It's looking at the neatly catalogued circuitry in your room and visualizing the act of dragging the sharp sides across your arm or down your thigh. It's seeing Bro telegraph a strike in a fight, and wondering if you should block or just let him cut you. It's knowing that you can't escape the wanting, not really, any more than you can escape the fucking apartment.

You try to tell her, and maybe she gets that you're back in the bad place again, but you're very careful that she doesn't know why.

You won't rat Bro out.

You will not do that to him.

He's your fucking brother, he's taken care of you and been pretty much the best brother you could want up until the last few years. Yeah, he's got a temper. Yeah, you want to get away from him. But he's never hurt you that badly, not even in a sparring match, just band-aid and first-aid-kit crap. Not much worse than the scars you have from learning to skateboard.

Maybe a little worse.

Maybe more than a little worse, but it's just you. He doesn't hurt Dave, at least.

Once, just once in your entire life, he laid a hand on your baby brother. Backhanded him for touching one of his stupid webcams—Dave's nose bled, he started crying, and for the first and so far only time, you picked up a sword without being told to, and you goaded Bro up onto the roof.

You ended up breaking his sword. After that, he took yours away from you and you broke his fucking nose with your forehead when he did it, took the sword back and threw it so hard it hit the air-conditioning unit and shattered into five pieces—later, you came up and retrieved them—and you somehow managed to get him down on the ground, straddled him and punched him over and over until he was coughing out blood and surrender mixed together.

His whole torso was a sunset of bruises for two weeks. You think you scared him. Not that it made him back off you—no, perish the thought. But he was noticeably less snappy with Dave for a while, and even now, months after the fact, he hasn't so much as moved to hit him.

He doesn't hurt Dave. He won't hurt Dave. Seven and a half is too young for the mock-fights that are a hell of a lot more genuine that he'll admit, Dave's too small and fragile and Bro wouldn't hurt Dave, goddamnit.

You believe that.

You do believe that.

You have to be one hundred percent sure you believe that, because you're leaving. You're not staying here any fucking longer, if you stay there will be a point where you will pick up something sharp and you will use it, and there's a difference between being suicidal and wanting to die, at least for you. You know you'll want to make Bro's shit stop by any means necessary, sooner or later, but if you can make it stop like this then you won't have to think about leaving your brothers for good.

God, your therapist would have a moral crisis if she could see your thought processes right now, wouldn't she? Or maybe she'd just say that the ends justify the means. You're not sure.

Anyway, you've been planning this for what, four months? You think that's about right. Your new apartment was easy to work out; your programming business can't pay for something as big as what you live in now, but it's just you who'll be there, not you and Dave and Bro and D and Bro's stupid porn setup. (Which fucks you up a little, when you think about it, which you don't do unless elements of it make their way into the rest of the apartment.) What you ended up with is actually a little larger than you strictly needed, but still well within what you can pay. The payment method is direct deposit, which is fucking amazing since it means you literally never had to see anyone, and probably won't in the future.

Transportation is harder. You have the money, but you don't look quite old enough to just show up at a dealership and buy yourself a car. The fact that you're struggling as much or more with social anxiety as you ever have doesn't help, either; you don't quite trust yourself to be capable of not going into full vaporlock if you do go through with buying it yourself. You'll go off the scripts you have in your head, the ones that you write to cover contingencies and scenarios, and you will become paralyzed. You know you will.

Which just means you have to plan around that.

It's not all that hard to find people who're willing to do anything online, if you look hard enough, and after a couple weeks and a succession of variously-worded ads on a couple different websites, you find a guy. He's more than twice your age, and perfectly willing to buy a truck for you if you provide the money plus a couple hundred on top for his time and effort.

He doesn't know you're fourteen, of course. You tell him that you won the lottery, your girlfriend doesn't know about it, and you're exploiting that fact to dump her. If it was true, it'd be a dick move, but he's okay with it. He even helps you load your bags into the back of your newly-acquired truck when he comes to pick you up from where you're waiting outside the apartment building.

When you go to get your seatbelt you find that your hand's clenched in a fist, nails digging into your skin and palm somewhere between damp and straight-out wet with blood. You can't get yourself to relax enough to uncurl your fingers until the building's well in the rearview mirror.

Bro messages you twenty-six times before the end of the day. You respond once, tell him you're not coming back, and ignore the rest.

For the first time in your life you sleep without at least one of your brothers within earshot. It's not amazing—you miss hearing Dave mumble in his sleep, you really do—but waking up and knowing that you're not going to get harassed today sure is.

This is better. Safer, for you.

You can handle this.

#Dirk strider #self harm #bro mention #brothers AU

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