an : so this is my first fic, so bare with me please! it's also stridercest, and will eventually be nsfw, so if those trigger you, please head back now. Anyway, here is chapter one!
Your name is Dave Strider and you are a ten year old. Given your current age, you haven't had many experiences; however, your ideals and portrayal of the world right now is very closed but you are convinced you are right. That's why when your mother says she's found a nice man, and that the two of you will be living with them from now on, you throw a 10 year-old level tantrum loud enough to shake the ground. You also object to going to their wedding, but are roped into going anyway. On top of all these horrible things, she tells you that you will also be having a new brother. But, oh no, not a little brother, a big brother, someone who you don't know and someone you don't care to know because he won't really be your brother.
But as stated prior, you are ten. And ten year olds do not get to make decisions and life choices of their own. Thus brings us to your current situation, which is moving day. You have always feared the inevitable, and this was just another thing in your timeline you knew would happen.
"You will love it, hun!" Your mother slurs her words, tipsy at the normal time or noon, as she holds on to the man who will now be your 'father'. He smiles at you, his arm around his son who isn't even showing any emotion behind is anime shades, which ironically mirror yours.
Weird. As. Shit. "C'mon, champ. Whaddya say? Ready to go see your new room?" The man says, a grin on his smug face. You don't know what your mother sees in him, but you also don't know what he sees in your mother either. You think both of them are stupid.
Silently, you look up at him, waiting for him to step aside. You don't want to open your mouth to this man, because all that will come out are shitty remarks about his unshaven face or how much of a dumbfuck he looks. The vocabulary of Dave Strider only consists of slurs, cuss words, and horribly unironic metaphors.
The silence is drawn out, perhaps a total of ten minutes at the most. A few looks past him is what it takes for him to get the hint, and as soon as he does, he steps aside, taking your mother and his son - er, uh, your brother - with him. You pick up your backpack and walk inside, fleeing up the stairs into your new room, where you can be alone.
Two weeks go by, and you've given into things. You sit at the table for dinner, watch your mouth, go out with the family, and above all else, seclude yourself as much as possible. Your new brother's name is Dirk, and you don't like how close it is to your name, or the fact that his shades are the same as yours. You don't like a lot of things about him, at all.
Then again, the two of you haven't spoken yet. Not to each other, anyway. You recall a faint smirk that played at his lips when the four of you went to the zoo and you made a joke about the monkeys looking just like your new dad. Other than that, though, he hasn't done anything around you. He's emotionless, and you guess you're the same way, but at least you fucking speak.
You're currently in your room, reading a comic that you had around for only ironic purposes, when you hear the door open.
"What?" You snap out of agitation, expecting it to be your mother. Your eyes do not leave the page in front of you. Which might be the reason your guard goes back down when you hear the door close again, thinking that your mother had decided whatever it was, wasn't important enough to disturb her angry son.
"Sup."
That voice. Whose voice is that? You've never heard it. Fuck, it almost sounded like you. No, no, it couldn't be - your voice isn't that low, and your accent isn't that thick, and there's no way another you could be in your room.
You sit up quickly, looking toward your doorway and spying your elder brother, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.
The silence is long and thick as you try to process this, and he generously gives you all the time you need.
"..sup." You echo his words, watching him.
He shrugs.
" 'M bored." He says smoothly, seemingly staring right back at you, but theirs no way to tell behind those glasses.
"Oh."
"Wanna do somethin'?" He asks, and you're brain is still swirling a bit from the very sudden interaction.
"Ya, sure." You don't move a muscle; don't get out of bed, don't even act like you're thinking of it.
He looks at you for a moment more before standing up straight and opening your door. Looking over his shoulder at you and giving you a nod of his head, he leaves, the door wide as he does so.
You wait until he disappears into the hall before you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding in, and you push yourself off the bed to follow him.
He's cool. He's really cool. His whole room is littered with robotics and mechanical parts and tools. He's got a few posters of animes you've never heard of, and he's got a huge computer system. He showed you his latest inventions and works in process, which included an AI of his own creation that he could program into his shades. Neither of you really talked much, and after a while it was just you watching him build things, but he didn't tell you to leave and you didn't want to.
Maybe he's not weird. Or, at least, not as weird as you originally thought.