"Oh shit, it's him."
"No wonder he's so alone."
"He is such an asshole."
"He doesn't deserve to be loved."
He wanted to drown.
He really did.
Every time they spoke of him like that, he felt like his heart was being torn apart.
He just wanted to sink into the lowest depths of the ocean where there was no life, no people, just darkness and the pressure of the water on his gray skin as he died from lack of oxygen.
Unfortunately, he could breathe underwater.
He didn't quite remember how he got there but he was lying on the floor of his respiteblock, staring at the ceiling and being annoyed by his throbbing head. He was waiting for someone to bother him, someone to show that they cared enough even just to scream at him that he was being an idiot, but no such luck. He knew that Feferi was busy
.. Vriska was probably bored of him by now
.. Karkat is probably doing something more important
Was he really that alone?
He groaned and rubbed his eyes, but soon stopped due to the noise of his rings clanging against each other which was just making his headache worse.
Why did people hate him so much?
It's not even the kismesis sort of hate. He would have been fine with that kind, but this just wasn't the same. He knew he was kind of an asshole to everyone, but he still felt lonely, he still had feelings.
He had grown up around the idea that he was better than everyone and that he shouldn't listen to their bullying. He grew up distancing himself from others, no matter how much he wanted to be near them, and growing angry when they decided to interfere. Due to this system, there was only one that he was able to let in. Feferi. But they rarely get to see each other these days.
There has to be a reason why he was so undesirable, right?
Suddenly he felt something drip down his cheek. He wiped it off looked at the translucent purple fluid that was now on his hand. Was he
Is it because of the way he speaks?
"Wwell maybe my accent is a bit wweird
." A bright violet blush crept over his face. He mouthed the words that he had always had difficulty with over and over until they came out without the stutter on the Ws or Vs.
Maybe it was his appearance.
He slowly unhooked his cape and untied his scarf, though he still didn't get up from where he was lying on the floor. Then he took off his jewelry, not caring where the priceless accessories landed as he tossed them haphazardly in every direction. Next he took off his glasses, he had astigmatism and couldn't see well without them, but even he knew that the glasses looked stupid. He heard the lenses shatter as they hit his desk, but at this point he really didn't give a shit.
He felt almost like a zombie as he finally got up and trudged to the mirror. His eyes immediately fell on the patch of hair that he had dyed the color of his own blood. He frowned. Why hadn't he realized how awful that looked until now?! He squinted and looked around the room until he finally found that bottle of ink. He didn't quite remember why he had it, but that didn't matter at this point. He stared at it for a moment before taking a deep breath and dumping the entire contents of the bottle on his head, not caring that the black fluid was dripping onto his face now.
Then he went back to the mirror and reexamined his face. His eyes now looked much smaller without his glasses and the gills on his neck were now visible without that stupid scarf being in the way.
Could it be the fact that he's a sea dweller that turns people away?
Well, that was an odd thought. He had never seen the fish-like parts of his anatomy to be a bad thing, he had always thought that they were pretty awesome. But now looking at them closely
maybe they did look a bit silly. He opened his gills slightly and turned his head in order to look at them better. He found that the more he looked at them, the more annoyed he got at the purple that you could see from under them. He grabbed some makeup that he didn't know he had and began painting the gray substance over the flaps. The first bit that he applied made him cough uncontrollably, but eventually he pulled himself together and was able to make the horrible pieces of skin disappear from the sight of others.
Next came the final part that made him different from the rest; those fin-like structures that attached to his ears. He grimaced, but knew what he had to do. His hand shakily reached for the scissors. He really didn't want to do any of this, but he knew that if he just stayed the way that he was he would continue to be his same stupid, unloved self. More purple tears flowed from his eyes as he did what had to be done. The process was slow, painful, and sloppy, but he kept telling himself that it was for the best.
Finally it was done. He stared at his new appearance. Eyes now small and squinty, ink had almost completely covered that weird violet highlight, a mixture of black and purple was dripping down off of his features, his neck now lacked that horrid imperfection, and the weird skin and cartilage that hung off of his ear was reduced to mere shreds.
Was he normal now? Could he fill his quadrants now? Would anyone truly care about him now? Would they stop bullying him now?
Was all of this just a big mistake?
. lovable yet?"