They're Just Shades: A Dave Strider X Reader

Introduction

Okay, guys. This is admittedly my first fanfiction, and thus my first X-reader. I'd really love it if you gave me feedback. I love all of my readers, and I want you to love me and my stories. ;u;

So I'd really appreciate it if you gave me ideas or general editing. Let me know if there's anything about this story that you don't like or would want to happen. Also, there's a huge chance that I won't be proofreading, so I'd love it if a few of you could take some time to tell me if there's a problem with my grammar. 0_0 I usually have no trouble with that, but...

A little information about reader-chan:

You are orphaned and living alone. This is a problem as you are only sixteen and should therefore be living in an orphanage. Your humble apartment is funded by your loving grandmother, whom unfortunately lives across the country and because of this can only do so much to help you. When you were young, your parents were abusive and neglecting towards you. Your mother was almost never home and when she was she never did anything to protect you from your drunk father. Late at night, after a full day of making you bend to his every will, he'd drink away his empathy and beat you. If you were lucky, he'd pass out before the beatings could start.

When you were at the tender age of seven, things started getting more and more out of hand. One night, after a fight with your mother which caused her to storm out "for good," your father fell into a routine drunken stupor. Though this time, there were abusive words to go along with the beatings. He blamed you for everything that was happening. He hadn't passed out or run out of energy when he usually did, and you felt yourself blacking out as he continued to whale on you. The pain eventually took you under the level of consciousness. The last thing you heard from him was, "Now she's gone."

There weren't any fanfare or apologies when you awoke. There was only pain and silence. You didn't wake up in a hospital with doctors caring for the two broken ribs or the shattered leg; instead, you found yourself right where you were when you passed out. A large pool of blood, blackened and dry, stained the carpet around you. Your father was in the living room, the TV's volume up all the way.

You never were able to get that stain out.

When your mother returned and found you immobile and half dead on the carpet, she cried for you. You could never remember her doing that. She picked your broken form up into her arms and swept you out the door, taking you to the nearest hospital. She explained what had been done to the authorities. By the time they arrived at your house, your father was long gone.

She soon remarried. This particular man had nothing in common with your father, save for the strange and unconditional hatred towards you. And the fact that he waited until your mother was gone to act upon it.

You endured the pain for five more years, telling yourself that it would get better and never having your wish fulfilled. Your mother left more and more often, and your stepfather beat you more and more frequently. You finally got a moment's peace when they went on a date night. Your stepfather had spared you for a few days, so your strength was plentiful enough to allow for your plans to follow through. After grabbing a few of the only things that you found valuable, you ran away.

You were granted enough luck by whatever higher power that you didn't run into any sort of pedophiles or sociopaths. You found shelter for a few months with the family of a school friend, and when your grandmother found out about your situation, she bought a nearby apartment under her name for you to call your own. By this point you were only thirteen.

With the monthly tribute from your grandmother, you keep yourself alive and well-hidden. The fact that you can pass for an adult is probably one of the main reasons that you've been safe for so long. Of course, to protect yourself, you move around about once a year.

Now sixteen, you've moved into your newest apartment. You've got a cheerful, caring and somewhat shy facade to hide your dark past, about which only you, your grandmother, and childhood friend Lynd are aware of. And you'd prefer to keep it that way. Though sometimes, things happen that are unexpected...

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 Whew! Wellllll. There is reader's backstory. In case you couldn't tell yet, those "unexpected things" may or may not be Dave Strider...... >u<

Enjoy my lovelies~ I will update soon. <3

Feel free to vote, comment and follow! I follow back!

~Weeb out!!~