#and everyone is calling him gross and ruined and covering him up in re-draws

[melonymint753]

I can't believe how the new Hades 2 Dionysus design showed that so many fans of the Greek Gods Game never worked through their internalized puritanism. Fire Emblem fans are shaking their head

[passivenovember]

You Look Stupid When You’re Sad.

Steve Harrington smelled of sour patch kids and unbaked cookie dough.

Billy didn't think it was a bad smell, exactly, just weird; intense, heady, and stuck to the walls of his brain. Doughy when the sunlight couldn't dry the track marks of Steve's sweat before nap time, heady when it got into Billy's system and stuck with him like the thrum of his heartbeat.

Wherever Billy went Steve Harrington was there. Like a shadow. A noisy, scrawny, wire-frame glasses wearing shadow that elbowed its way into the chair across from Billy's during lunch and followed him around at recess; three feet behind and always pretending to spot interesting shapes in the clouds when he thought Billy wasn't looking, but.

Billy was always looking.

It was so weird.

Steve was so weird. The way he made bright, happy noises when he was paired with Billy for station time, how he always drug his mat over from the other side of the room to sleep next to Billy when it was time to zonk out after second recess despite knowing that the spot was saved for Barbara, Billy's actual best friend.

She got nightmares and Billy liked to be there to hold her hand while she dreamed but every afternoon, without fail, Steve came wondering over with his lip stuck out in a question.

It was confusing.

Steve was so confusing. The way he hugged his mat to his chest, chin quivering with a little, "Okay. Sorry, Bills." Every time Billy slapped his hand on the carpet and growled that the spot was taken. Occupation, not reserved for pasty-kneed dorks with wire frame glasses, and.

Billy didn't want to make the kid cry, or anything, but he always managed to do just that. Paint himself as a bad guy.

Billy rubbed his forehead as Barb settled in on his left hand side one afternoon after such an altercation, smiling so big her lips disappeared behind the plastic frames of her glasses.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" She asked, and.

Billy tried not to be jealous.

Steve hiccupped, cheeks growing redder by the second. "I wanna nap with you guys but Billy won't let me."

"Hey, that's not--"

"You can sleep with us if you want to. Billy has a really big blanket, maybe he can share with both of us." Barbara looked at him expectantly, like. "Right Billy?"

And it was dumb.

It was so dumb, that they were staring at him with hopeful eyes and Steve's chin was still quivering and Billy didn't want to be the bad guy; he wasn't Mesogog and he didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but.

Steve Harrington got under his skin. With his soft hair and big brown eyes, always following Billy around and begging for the space to be made. Billy got clumsy and nervous when Bambi was nearby, and.

The idea of sharing space. Sleeping next to Steve with his chirpy little noises and warm soft hands, it.

Made Billy feel like he was breaking out in itchy red bumps.

No.

He would stick to his guns; the blanket just wasn't big enough for three people. But then, Billy's grumpy brain supplied, Steve could steal Barbara and keep her as his own best friend if Billy didn't let him stay, so. It was time to cut his losses.

"God, you look stupid when you're sad." Billy muttered.

Steve started crying again.

Billy really wished he'd stop that.

"I'm sorry, Billy. I know I'm dumb but I don't mean to be." Steve whimpered. He tucked his mat under his arm and made to get up.

And leave.

As if Billy would let Steve make him look bad in front of everyone, especially Barbara.

"Lay down, dork." Billy grumbled, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders and peeling it back for Steve reluctantly.

Harrington's smile was so bright it could've melted crayons when he settled in close, chirping happily as Billy pulled the blanket around them and tucked in on impulse. The room went dark, Mr. Talamantez reminding them to count butterflies if sleep wouldn't come.

It didn't.

Steve smelled too much like cream and sugar for Billy to get any rest at all.

--

"Whatcha making, Billy?" Steve asked, pink tongue poking out in concentration as he peered over Billy's arm at his art project.

A stack of pink and red construction paper was Billy's favorite thing in the world because it meant endless possibilities. Pink was soft and sweet, red was passionate and cool. Like hot wheels and firetrucks and hearts full of warm oven mitts, so.

He pulled the leaflets from his backpack during circle time and got busy, carefully folding the delicate paper hamburger style and then tracing swirly, dramatic lines for each heart on the page.

Valentines was Billy's most favorite day of the year.

Even more than Christmas, even more than his birthday, and only a little bit more than Halloween because on Valentines? The whole universe was covered in flowers and little tin wrapped chocolates and love hearts were the best thing for a kid to make with scissors.

Billy ignored Steve's tongue, turning his shoulders to the room. "I'm making love hearts."

"For who?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Okay," Steve said happily, grabbing a handful of markers and re-situating himself much closer than Billy would've liked. Steve's Nike's tapped the itsy-bitsy-spider on the rug as he declared, "I'm drawing batman on a surfboard!"

And Billy tossed aside his first ruined Valentine. "Oh cool, I don't remember asking."

"That's okay," Steve giggled. "Sometimes I get motor mouth. My Daddy says it's 'cause I'm a fruit."

"My daddy called me that sometimes before he got sick." Billy turned to glare at him. "That's not a good thing."

"It is to me!" Steve giggled again. He was always doing that. "I like Kiwis. My mommy packed some for lunch and I had them for breakfast. They're yummy in geek yogurt. They make me smile because they have beards!"

Steve cackled like kiwi's having beards was the funniest thing on earth and Billy wondered what there was to be so happy about.

He tried not to smile at Steve's dumb face. "I think you mean Greek yogurt."

"Yeah, probably. If I'm like a kiwi, that's alright, I think." Steve's tongue poked out again. "Surfboards make me think of you." He declared, and.

Steve smelled like toasted chocolate on s'mores, his hands somehow kicking up more of his sugary sweet odor each time he reached for a new piece of paper. Billy didn't know how he was supposed to get anything done when his circle buddy smelled like a chocolate birthday cake.

It was kinda gross.

Billy pulled out a sliver marker and traced Stinky Butt Max on one of the smaller Valentines, remembering to fold down the corners so the sensitive skin on her palms wouldn't get hurt when she inevitably started smacking him it.

The pink Valentine looked more like a chewed up Starburst gummy this way, but. Max wouldn't know the difference.

Steve peered over his shoulder again, cooing softly. Like a baby dove. "That ones pretty, Bills! Is Max your Valentine?"

"Ew," Billy wrinkled his nose like he sometimes did when Max needed a diaper change. "She's my baby sister, don't be an Ick Monster."

"What's an Ick Monster?"

"Somebody who makes weird jokes and says weird things, so." Billy shrugged, scrawling his mothers name on a second love heart. He poked Steve's tummy with his marker. "That's you, I think."

Steve giggled before slapping Billy's hand away, and. Watching him work.

After a while Steve inched closer. "So you don't have a Valentine?" He wondered, and.

Billy didn't understand the question. "Mr. Talamantez said we're all each other's Valentines so nobody feels sad."

"Yeah, but. Everybody has someone they want to smooch on Valentines." Steve started playing with his hair, fingers twisting waves in a sea of brown, like they sometimes did when he was nervous. "Someone they like best-best. Better than all the other kids."

Now it was Billy's turn to giggle. "That's icky."

"Smooching?" Steve's eyes sparkled. "It's fun sometimes."

"Like you've ever kissed anyone."

Steve looked offended. "Have too."

"Have not."

"Have too," Steve pouted, crossing his arms.

Billy began work on a third Valentine. "Who did you kiss?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

Billy snorted, not sure if he wanted to imagine Steve kissing Nancy Wheeler, or. Kissing at all.

Steve's chin started quivering. "You don't believe me?"

"No." Billy said lightly, capping the marker with a sniff.

Kissing was not fun. It was wet and violent and looked like it maybe hurt a little bit, the way he'd seen his mom and Susan kiss when he got up to go potty at night. Billy regarded Steve through easy, narrowed eyes; Steve wasn't the kind of boy who kissed like that.

"How come you're so weird?" Billy wondered.

"I like being weird." Steve said, reaching for a green marker to color in his surfboard. Steve nodded at the small pile of Valentine's strewn on the carpet between them. "You should put the love hearts on foam when you're done."

"I was already gonna do that, genius."

Billy wasn't already going to do that, but he'd eat a centipede before he let Harrington know he came up with a good idea.

"They could be superhero colors!" Steve hollered suddenly. He was so loud all the time. "That way your mommy and sissy can know that you love them because they're cool. Like Aqua-man."

Billy frowned, watching Steve fold his Batman drawing over and over again until it all but disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall with an eye roll, shocked out how much Harrington lacked any concept of taste, or.

Shame.

"Aqua-man isn't cool," Billy said. Because Aqua-man wasn't, he was like. The lamest of them all. "His only power is making the bad guys drown, at least the other heroes can punch really hard."

"Punching isn't always the best, though." Steve tucked Batman into the front pocket of his shirt, leaning into Billy's space. "Sometimes punching just makes the bad guys stronger. Like Wilson Fisk."

Billy frowned. "Punching works for Spiderman."

Steve considered this fact, pink tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth again. He thought really hard for a long time, as if Steve didn't have Spiderman socks on everyday at recess when he removed his Nike's to fill them with rocks.

Such a weird guy.

Finally, Steve smiled. "I like water, though. Your eyes are like water. From the fountain in the hallway, and like the lake at camp." Steve pushed his way into Billy's space, frowning with his head cocked to the side like there was more thinking to cross of the list. "You're very pretty, Billy. Like a cloud."

And.

Billy didn't have the words to articulate the way Steve's smell went a little crazy after that, like a bag of powdered sugar had caught fire from a signal light once he realized what he'd said. Billy waited for Steve to take it back, because.

Boys calling other boys pretty wasn't allowed in Mr. Talamantez' classroom, or. Anywhere else.

Steve didn't take it back.

"You wouldn't like Aqua-Man's water, 'cause you'd drown." Billy said, getting back to work on his Valentines if only for a distraction from the way Steve was watching him. "He doesn't control his power very well and sometimes the mean guys get hurt real bad."

Steve kept right on talking. "I wouldn't be a mean guy though," He reasoned, sliding impossibly closer on the alphabet rug. "I'd help him fight crimes. Like Captain Underpants!"

And.

Billy had nothing to say to that, sucked in and drowning by the way Steve's eyes were glittering.

"You're a weird guy, you know?" Billy breathed.

Steve's giggle went right to Billy's tummy, teaching it to do backflips, somehow.

"That's okay." Steve said, reaching back for a fresh piece of paper. "You'll remember me better and maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine."

Steve's hair fell across his eyes, head bopping along to whatever song he was singing to himself today. His lips glittered like a frosted donut. Like he'd been eating a strawberry ice cream cone instead of confusing all the boys around him.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

Huh.

Billy started work on a new love heart and pretended not to notice.

--

On Tuesday morning Billy woke to the smell of pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Maxine was already up.

Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in two Princess Leia buns. Susan had put in little heart clips and the pink dress Billy's mommy had made special was already covered in mashed banana and something that looked like magic marker.

She was all ready for Valentines day.

Billy didn't understand why they bothered trying to make her look dainty when Max was more interested in destroying Billy's favorite toys and starting fires.

She sat on the floor of the room they shared together, sucking her thumb and playing with Billy's favorite race car. Her wet, chubby fingers made the blue Camaro shine brightly with spit and Billy felt like his face was burning up.

"Hey," He said, rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, you're getting spit all over my--"

"Race car!"

Max held it out to him triumphantly. Billy frowned, moving to grab it from her chubby little fist. "I know that's my race--"

"It's a blue car," Max said thoughtfully. She looked at him, like, "Blue cars are my favorite."

"It's my favorite too--"

"Can we share?" Max wondered, putting the little wheels on Billy's knee and letting the car zoom back and forth. He imagined that Evel Knievel was in the drivers seat wondering why his car wasn't first in the race.

She looked happy, like always, to be playing with Billy's toys.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess we can share. It's Valentine's Day."

Max seemed to enjoy that. "I like today!"

"You do?"

"Yup," She said happily, little chubby fingers tangling in Billy's hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. "Candy and sour gummy worms and kisses from cute boys!"

Billy glared. "You're kissing cute boys?"

"Uh-huh!" Max hollered. "Lucas gave me a dandelion."

Billy thought long and hard.

About Valentines Day and all the things that came with it. The pink shirt that hung pressed in his closet, fresh cupcakes with plastic rings, a bag of Scooby-doo Valentines Susan had picked up at the market for all his classmates, homemade love hearts at the bottom of his backpack. Three with red foam, one with a delicate lace doily, and.

Kisses.

Max was getting flowers and kisses from a boy.

From someone special.

Billy took the race car from Max's hand and drove it around, thinking about boys with brown eyes and soft hands.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

"Wanna eat some breakfast, Max?"

"I had 'nanas." She said with a smirk.

Billy hummed, standing to get dressed. "Mama probably made chocolate chip pancakes, you don't wanna eat something special?"

Max's little red eyebrows pinched together. "I can have yours?"

And.

Billy didn't know what was so necessary to her about taking everything that was his. Playing with his toys, sleeping in his pj's, eating his breakfast, it was like Max didn't know how take something and make it her own.

Billy pulled the pink shirt over his head, feeling every bit like a turtle when Max did the same with the collar of her dress.

"You can have my pancakes." Billy concluded, puffing out his chest. "If you'll be my Valentine."

"You don't have a boy to kiss?"

"I might," Billy picked the race car off the ground with a smile. "This is practice for when I see him at school. So, will you be my Valentine?"

She thought about it.

Long and hard, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before nodding with her entire body. "I think he will."

Billy sighed. "Really?"

"If you give him sour gummy worms and smooch his forehead he will," Max said.

And.

Maybe things would turn out okay. Billy nodded, grabbing the race car and driving it across Max's forehead, careful that the little plastic wheels didn't get stuck in her hair.

--

From the stucco ceiling of the classroom beautiful strands of silver and gold hearts painted a mirage of stars.

All the desks had a rose and a cardboard mailbox intended for the delivery of Valentines and at the center of the room a table filled with cupcakes and strawberry Capri-sun packets. Preparation for the party this afternoon, and.

Mr. Talamantez had turned their space into a glittering, perfect fairytale.

Billy hugged his basket of Valentines close to his chest and tried not to search for Steve before dropping his backpack at the cubby station.

He was right in the middle of tugging his special sweater down over his head when Barbara scooted in next to him, pretty in a little pink jumpsuit.

She handed him a tiny, delicate giftbag full of chocolate hearts and dinosaur erasers, smiling from ear to ear as Billy hugged her nice and tight before handing off something he had made special. A tiny paper crane his mommy helped him fold, and a bunch of rainbow goldfish sat nestled in a basket of paper Mache.

They were her favorite snack in the whole world and Barbara was Billy's favorite person, so it seemed fitting.

She hugged him and Billy smiled, peering around the room for a head of wavy brown hair. "We could share our presents with Steve," He muttered, like. It wasn't a big deal or anything. Billy tugged on the sleeves of his red sweater and tried to stay cool. "Where is he?"

Barbara pointed to the book shelves.

Steve was sat under a string of twinkly lights, shoulders tucked against the pillows Mr. Talamantez set aside for circle time. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, and.

He was crying.

Of course he was crying.

Billy felt the Valentine in his pocket grow heavy.

Barbara said, "Steve broke his glasses, maybe you could make him smile?"

And.

Billy wanted to do that. Longed to make Steve giggle and chirp with happiness like the annoying little Meadowlark he seemed be. It would be so easy to. Walk over there, tap Steve's shoulder, and say the words.

Pose the question.

Will you be my Valentine?

Steve was making huffy, nervous little noises when Billy came to a stop beside him.

"Hey Harrington, playing with all your friends?" Billy sneered, confident that Steve would giggle like he was did, but.

When he finally turned around his face was red and puffy. As if he'd been crying all morning and all night, too.

"What do you want, Billy?" Steve whispered.

He sounded sleepy. Spread thin, like the last spoonful of jam on burned toast.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked carefully. "What happened?"

Steve sat and rubbed at his eyes, chin wobbling as more tears spilled over. "My daddy broke my glasses." He whispered.

And Billy hated it.

He always hated when Steve cried but today. Right now, he.

Felt like he had to do something about it.

Billy took the love heart from his pocket and sat down next to Steve, cuddling back into the pillows until their shoulders were touching. It took all of five seconds for Steve to settle in next to him. Roll his head back against the wall until he was looking at Billy with a question in his eyes.

Steve looked at Billy's shoulder and back up at his face, like.

"Can I--"

"Come here, stupid." Billy grumbled, Pulling Steve in until they were cuddling on the pillows.

Steve chirped. It wasn't his usual sound, light and airy, it was.

Thick.

And heavy.

Like a blanket sopped with rain water. Steve buried his face in Billy's neck. "I don't have any Valentines to give this year."

"That's okay."

"I made something special for you," Steve whispered, pulling back to study Billy's face. "I know Mr. Talamantez said we weren't supposed to, but--"

"Will you be my Valentine?" Billy's stupid mouth said.

Steve blinked at him, and.

Billy wanted to hide in the bathroom for thousand years.

Steve pulled away to sit crisscross-applesauce. Facing Billy, like this was something important. "Huh?"

Billy mirrored him, tucking his hands away so they wouldn't shake when he held out the love heart.

It was pink. Big and bright and outlined with a white doily that Susan helped him glue around the edges. Billy had dug through Max's box of stickers for the one with Winne the Pooh, the one he'd been saving for someone special. Winnie was covered in tiny valentines, eating right out of a jar of honey with a butterfly sitting on his nose, and.

Billy had thought it was perfect.

He worked for hours on the font. The saying that made his mommy laugh when he read it to her; you're bear-y sweet. Be my Valentine.

Steve took the love heart in his hands, and.

Didn't say anything.

Billy frowned. "I just. Remember you asked me to be your Valentine, or. For you to be mine. And--" His hands were shaking again. "It's stupid. God, this is--"

Steve leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

It was gentle. Like the brush of butterfly wings, barely there and then gone before Billy had a chance to really register the movement, or. Think about what it could mean.

Steve wasn't crying anymore when he said, "I'll be your Valentine."

Billy's brain took a minute to catch up. "Huh?"

"I'll be your Valentine, Billy." Steve giggled, staring down at the love heart once more. "This is so cute. I loved Winnie the Pooh when I was a baby. My mom always put me in footie pajamas that had Eeyore on them. And tinker bell too, sometimes. You could've put the Red power ranger on there instead. He's my favorite--"

Billy sat back against the pillows.

He was learning that Steve Harrington was weird.

Like a puzzle with one piece missing, or. An empty tube of bubble mix. Steve was colorful and loud and all over the place with opinions. He shined bright and loved hard, and.

Sometimes it was best to sit back and listen.

--

Happy Valentines Day!!

I really just sat down and wrote this. Wow. Anyway--thank you for reading and supporting my work. Your comments and endless kindness keep me going when I don't always feel like trucking on, and I wanted to do something to remind you that if this was an elementary school classroom I would give you so many lollipops.

[delimeful]

you will see a better day

donation drive commission for @starrykid with the prompt: Remus dealing with intrusive thoughts and the others helping him through it.

warnings: canon setting, intrusive thoughts (a fair amount), gore mentions, implications of thoughts of self harm, Remus Going Thru It

-

Before, whenever he had a Bad Day, it was just more fuel on the trash fire that was his brain. 

It was routine: Remus would wake up with a litany of grotesque images on the back of his eyelids, present every time he blinked or squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. These thoughts weren’t the fun kind of gross, the type that was fascinating or funny. They weren’t fun because he didn’t choose them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of them if he didn’t like them. 

Guess that was how everyone else felt about you. Remus mashed a pillow over his own face as though it would muffle his own mind. What a stupid thought. He was a luxury few could afford, thank-you-very-much!

Back then, as soon as possible, he would find someone else in the Mindscape to bother, because if he had to deal with the awful thoughts carving and chipping away at the inside of his skull, it was only fair to share. 

That was before, when things had been black and white and he could be a monster all he pleased because it wasn’t like anyone else thought differently. It wasn’t like Thomas thought differently. 

Until he did.

And now they were all in one muddled up Mindscape and the others were trying, making an effort to clot their own bad habits and setting a place for him at the table. It was slow-going, like shoving a square peg into a circular hole, but it was also the most he’d ever had. Until something splintered, he was going to soak in every minute of it. 

Or at least, that was his plan, up until he hit another Bad Day like a semi truck hit thrice-dead roadkill. 

Same thoughts, same pounding (heh) headache. The difference was, now he couldn’t go word-vomit all over the nearest Side until he felt a little less like he was drowning. He was working to keep the delicate peace in his own way, and that meant not bothering the others with his… himself-ness on days like these. 

He couldn’t stay in his room all day, though. For one it was boring, and for two, ever since they’d all agreed to try and cohabitate, Patton and Janus in particular were insistent on checking in if anyone acted strange. Cooping up in his room and not being his usual fantastically sickening and outrageous self would definitely pop up on their radar. If that happened, there was no way he could fool Janus outright. He preferred his own brand of frank honesty anyways, so clearly the only solution was to behave normally enough that nobody looked twice. 

His version of normal, anyhow. 

He groaned loudly and then dragged in a breath, manifesting a pair of slippers that looked uncannily like dead fish onto his feet. He would just have to put his excellent acting skills to use. 

—- 

Remus’s willpower was put to the test as soon as he reached the kitchen. A new record of his ability to destroy plans, this must be why Janus never told him anything. 

Patton was spinning himself in circles on one of the round stools by the bar counter, humming a cartoon theme brightly to himself. At the stovetop, Virgil was sedately flipping pancakes, an easy set to his shoulders that meant he had probably recently taken a long-overdue nap in Logan’s room.

Normally, Remus would already be halfway into teasing the hell out of him, but now his brain felt scrambled with panic. Virgil was particularly susceptible to getting dragged into the cycle of intrusive thoughts on days like these, which meant the anxious Side was the last one he wanted to run into at the moment. 

Two birds with one brick, his stupid hell brain suggested slyly. Send Virgil into a spiral and then it’ll be him who gets nagged, his fault for ruining the friendly atmosphere. 

Stop it. Remus’s face twitched into a self-directed snarl for a moment, and he forced the thought away as Patton finally slowed his rotation to smile dizzily at him. 

“Remus! Good morning!” 

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, sending Remus’s heart rate briefly into the triple digits. Be normal be normal be normal. “Hey, Re. Morning.”

He didn’t even notice. So much for being your friend. If you’re subtle enough, you could sidle up behind him and smash his face into the hot burner—

“WHAT’S UP, FUCKERS!” Remus shouted, teeth spread in a too-wide grin. He bounced into the kitchen, depositing an assorted handful of teeth (his preferred currency) into the swear jar before Patton could say anything, and planted himself on the middle bar stool. 

Patton scooted one stool closer to be next to him, because of course he did. Remus resisted the urge to start prying out handfuls of hair, his own or— no. Toned down, he was keeping it toned down. Buttcheek on a stick, this was difficult.

“Want to spin with me?” Patton asked, shifting antsily from side to side with barely contained energy. 

“Whoever pukes first wins?” Remus replied automatically, and felt a bright burst of giddy joy when Patton giggle-snorted instead of recoiling. 

“I think upchuck is actually supposed to mean you lose your lunch and the spinning contest, kiddo.” 

Of course it did. You were designed to be the loser, even if you try to change the rules. 

Remus knew that this time Patton had spotted the way his lips twitched down into a grimace, but before the fatherly side could say anything, there was the clink of ceramic plates on the counter in front of them. 

“No spinning and/or vomiting if you want to eat my pancakes,” Virgil demanded, wielding a spatula threateningly at them as he clicked the stovetop off. “We’ll never hear the end of it from Princey if he has to reconjure all the furniture.” 

Irrational, heated anger burned through him. Like Virgil could do anything to stop you. Social interaction was enough to give the guy a panic attack, he couldn’t tell Remus to do or not do anything— 

“You good, Re?” Virgil asked, and he jerked, avoiding the other Side’s gaze as though eye contact would expose his thoughts. After a beat too long, his mind finally caught up with the plate in front of him. 

His pancake was covered in a truly disgusting amount of cheese and ketchup, the way he always requested it back when they’d all been Dark Sides. Despite the fact that he always made a face back then, Virgil had made a point to remember, had done it without asking. 

Like ravenous wolves, his thoughts instantly turned against him. 

Pathetic. How could you think things like that about people who trust you? You shouldn’t even be here, pretending to be a person. You deserve everything coming to you. 

His hand made it halfway to the fork sitting innocently next to his plate before he remembered himself. Virgil was still looking at him, clearly having caught the motion, and Remus lowered his hand, white-knuckled. 

“Me, good? That’s a funny one, V-mo!” he tried to joke, but the odd edge to his voice made it fall flat. Virgil was outright frowning now, and out of the corner of his vision Patton’s eyebrows were drawing together.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, his frame tight with tension and his gaze drilling into Remus. “Are you hurt?” 

“I could be!” Remus blurted, trying to keep his tone saucy but ending up with something closer to desperate. “You ever think maybe bashing my skull in would be better than having to deal with its contents?”

The two of them winced, and he knew he’d given himself away completely. Shit.

Virgil reached out, and then stopped himself before he could make contact. Can you blame him? Jumping into an electrified tank of leeches would be more comfortable than willingly exposing himself to you. 

Something of his internal diatribe must have shown on Remus’s face, because Virgil’s hesitant expression flickered into regret.

“Shit,” he swore, and this time Patton didn’t chide him. “I can’t-- I don’t want to send you into a spiral, Re. If I touch you, we’re just going to be stuck in a feedback loop of bad thoughts.” 

“Like how you’re perpetually stuck in 2009?” Remus offered, instead of listing all the ways he could feasibly remove Virgil’s eyes from their sockets. It would almost be fun, if it wasn’t his friend’s eyes he was contemplating prying out with a spoon handle. 

Virgil’s lips pulled up slightly. “Yeah, just like that. I’m gonna go get the others. They’ll be able to help you for real.” 

He sunk out, and Remus’s head started to ache more severely as terrible and often gory predictions for the future began to crowd his mind. He shoved his hands into the roots of his hair and tugged ferociously. 

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn’t pull on your hair like that,” a concerned voice chimed in. Remus had almost forgotten Patton was still there, sitting only a seat away. 

He pulled harder on his hair, both out of spite and to distract himself from the urge to summon a weapon and see if Patton would still look at you with so much pity if you shanked his ass and tied his intestines into little bows. 

“Hey, what do you call a seasick croc?” Patton asked, abruptly enough that Remus managed to shake his train of thought. He glanced up to look at the Heart, who offered him a tremulous mischievous smile. “A crocobile.” 

Remus snorted, and Patton’s smile seemed to firm up. 

“How about, why do ducks have tail feathers?” the moral Side asked in that same leading tone. 

Remus thought for a minute. “‘Cause otherwise they’d lose their balance in flight and go splat against the nearest window?” 

“I mean, maybe, but also!” Patton held up a finger for emphasis. “They have tail feathers to cover their… butt-quacks.”

There was a beat of anticipation where they both stared at each other, and then Remus threw his head back and outright cackled. Patton fist pumped in delight. 

“I thought you might like that one, kiddo,” he said, beaming. Before Remus could reply, possibly with an atrocious pun of his own, Roman strode into the room. 

There was a brief, awkward pause as the two of them made eye contact. Patton looked rapidly between them with concern, and Remus couldn’t blame him. Even now, their one-on-one interactions tended to end with vicious spats. They were too good, too practiced at pressing each other's buttons to settle into the newfound peace easily. 

“... Bad one?” he finally asked, as though he could spot the wrong-evil-awful all over Remus from a mile away. Remus felt his expression drop into an irritable glower worthy of Anxiety, but before he could retort, Roman was seating himself primly on the communal couch.   

He ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck in a nervous habit Remus constantly teased him about, and then straightened his shoulders and patted the cushion next to him. “I’ll… like when we were kids. If you want.” 

Despite Patton’s confused head tilt, Remus got it immediately, and ignored the screaming violence in his head in favor of bodily throwing himself over the couch, jostling the hell out of his brother and eliciting a Grade-A Bitchface from him in the process. Remus grinned maliciously in return.

“Do the one that looks like a snake,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and lengthening it. Of course, in addition, thick clumps of hair ended up falling out entirely, leaving weird-feeling bald patches that might have been interesting if he’d actually intended to create them. 

“On purpose or don’t want it?” Roman asked, echoing a familiar question from their childhood. It had been a royal decree, before they grew so divided, that one had to ask before ‘fixing’ anything the other did, just in case it was on purpose. 

“How are you supposed to braid what isn’t there?” Remus grumbled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he unwillingly imagined restapling his hair to his skull. “Don’t want it.” 

Roman dragged his fingers through Remus’s hair, lengthening it until it was long enough to do all sorts of stupid-complicated braids. He also made the new hair unforgivably glossy and apple-scented, but Remus could get him back for that later, when he was sure it wouldn’t be (nails through nasal cavities, a cloud of suffocating darkness, decaying hands pulling you down into freshly turned soil and burying you alive) disproportionate retribution. 

Two braids later, Logan appeared, rising up in the mindscape with his tie perfectly aligned but lab goggle imprints around his eyes. He only took a moment to absorb the scene, as though it was normal that everyone was crowding around Remus attentively. “Virgil informed me that you could use some assistance?” 

Remus snorted. “Maybe you can perform some impromptu brain surgery to stop me thinking? Hey, if you don’t use anesthetic, I promise not to squirm too much, doc.”

“I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school,” Roman quoted absently, still caught up in combining three braids together into one. 

Logan rolled his eyes. “Regardless of my unfortunately lacking PhD status, I believe brain surgery to ‘stop one thinking’ is also colloquially referred to as an induced coma.” 

“Perfect!” Remus cheered, and then yelped when Roman tugged on his hair harshly in retribution. Patton was making that half-pitiful, half-furious face that he always made whenever the emo talked bad about himself, strangely enough.

“There are plenty of adjectives I could use to describe such a solution, but none of them would be ‘perfect’, Remus,” Logan continued. “A more effective and patient-friendly answer would be addressing your irritating or harmful thoughts through the use of various mental health tactics.” 

Easy for him to say. “That might work for Tommy-boy, but I am the harmful or irritating thoughts, remember?” 

“Falsehood.” Logan declared, proving that no matter what aspect of Thomas they were, the Sides were all dramatic theater kid bastards at heart. “It has become increasingly clear that while we all formed to handle certain tasks or aspects, we are all increasingly complex at heart. None of us can be diminished to simply one trait. In the same way that Virgil is much more than the experience of anxiety, there is no logical reason to reduce yourself to the thoughts that you struggle with.” 

Remus shook his head, though he wasn’t sure what part of the assertion he was resisting. Logan folded himself into a sitting position and reached over for Remus’s hand, his touch grounding. 

“You’ve gotten through days like this before. You’ll continue to do so after,” Logan told him. 

“I got through Bad Days by making everyone’s day bad,” Remus retorted. “I’m not you, but I’m not stupid. Nobody wants me making it into a communal event.” 

“That’s what family’s for though,” Patton said, shifting closer from his own spot on the rug. “Listening. Helping. Having each other’s backs when things get tough!” 

Logan’s grip didn’t falter. Roman’s presence was solid at his back. Remus was beginning to wonder if he’d snorted something hallucinogenic recently.

“The sentiment is admirable, if a bit hypocritical,” a familiar voice chimed in, and Remus looked up to see Janus leaning elegantly against the kitchen archway. Virgil elbowed his way past, ruining the dramatic pose and flopping down on the couch next to Remus. He bumped his shoe against Remus’s leg in quiet camaraderie.

“Hypocritical?” Logan echoed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Unless you’d like to tell me that everyone here has no problems whatsoever asking for help or expressing vulnerability on their bad days,” Janus proposed, smugly. 

Logan inclined his head slightly. “Point.” 

“Regardless, that doesn’t make Logic or Morality incorrect.” Janus looked at Remus intently. “None of us are allowed to simply suffer in silence, anymore.”

“I didn’t exactly suffer in silence before,” he pointed out, sounding uncannily sensible. Probably from the nerd’s proximity. 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem now, hmm?” Janus replied. 

Logan sighed at them all, collectively, in general. “Look at it from this angle, Remus. Your previous coping mechanism was generally detrimental due to your lack of options and isolation. Now, you have neither of those holding you back. With knowledge and assistance, you can only improve from here on out.” 

Now, that was doubtful. “And what if I don’t, huh? What if I just get worse?” 

“Then we’ll still be here.” Logan squeezed his hand, and Janus confirmed his words with a nod, and even though his mind was cluttered and overwhelming, they were all still there at his side without complaint. 

Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask, after all.

“Well, what are we trying first?”

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Can you make a part 11 to the “MHA x Fem!Reader: Kingdom Hearts”

Kingdom Hearts Part 12

Warnings: Angst

Rating: SFW

Before I start this, here is your hero costume:

Now onto the series!

You and the others stepped onto a barren, windswept land.

“It’s time. The Keyblade Graveyard is up ahead,” Mickey said. You all nodded, directing your eyes toward your destination. 

“Someone’s coming,” Sora said softly. 

Beyond a cloud of dust, Master Xehanort approached you all across the wasteland, his pace calm and unhurried. 

“You were right, dunce face. He is gross,” Bakugou whispered. 

“Right?!” 

“I can feel him staring into my soul. That’s so no manly,” Kirishima whispered. 

Xehanort stopped before you all and began to speak. 

“Legend has it that darkness once covered the world. We know so little about the Keyblade War--only that it was just the beginning. If ruin brings about creation, what, then, would another Keyblade War bring? When the darkness falls, will we be found worthy of the precious light the legend speaks of?” he said. Ansem appeared beside Xehanort.

“Who’s that?” Mina asked Denki. 

“Ansem Seeker of Darkness. Xehanort’s Heartless,” Denki replied. 

“Or will all of creation be instead returned to shadows? Today, we will re-create the legend and see,” Ansem said. 

Next, Xemnas stepped forward, taking his place on the other side of Xehanort.

“That’s Xemnas. Xehanort’s Nobody,” Denki whispered. 

“But first...Your light shines far too brightly. It must be extinguished in order for the truth to be seen,” Xemnas said. Vanitas appeared in front of the previous three.

“That’s Vanitas. The dark part of Ventus’s heart,” Denki whispered. 

“Only when your hopes have been broken by battle upon battle can the key be claimed to Kingdom Hearts,” Vanitas said. 

“And break you is what we shall do,” Y!Xehanort said, who had appeared next to Vanitas. “It has been etched.”

“That’s Xehanort younger self. You can totally see where things went wrong,” Denki whispered. 

“That’s his younger self?” Mina asked. 

“Yep.” 

Darkness flowed from the five villains and surrounded the whole area, blocking out the sky itself. The cloud opened, and countless Heartless, Nobodies and Unversed began raining down upon you all. 

“Look at how many there are!” you said. 

“Okay, everyone, get ready!” Izuku said as the number of Heartless grew and grew. 

“Remember! The Nobodies can only be defeated by a Keyblade!” Sora said.

“Got it!” you and Class 1-A said. 

The number of creatures surrounding you all was fast growing into a near-endless horde. After managing to clear out the Heartless in your immediate vicinity, you and the others paused to catch your breath. 

“Is everybody okay?” you asked as you surveyed the team. When you saw that they were, you relaxed somewhat with relief. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Sora called out. But just as you all were about to get moving, yet another figure appeared in the distance. Ventus was the first one to notice. 

“Terra!” he shouted, running off before you all could get a word in. 

Aqua started after him, calling his name with a hint of apprehension. Ventus was unaware that Terra’s body was under Xehanort’s control.

“Terra! We found you!” Ventus exclaimed as he took his friend’s hand (protect this baby, okay? he deserves the world!). 

“Terra, please say you’re in there,” Aqua pleaded in a rather more cautious voice. 

“That’s not him, is it?” Sero asked Denki, who shook his head in response.

Instead of replying, Terra observed Aqua quietly. His blue eyes seemed to stare right through her, and she placed a hand on Ventus’s shoulder to draw him away.

“What gives, Aqua?” Ven asked. 

“I know that you’re not him,” she said as she placed herself before Ventus protectively. “Now, let our friend go!”

That was when Terra’s hair turned white, and his blue eyes turned to gold. 

“He is their thirteenth,” Mickey said softly. 

“Great. More Xehanort’s,” Bakugou said. 

“Hey! Now you’re catching on!” Denki said. 

“Shut up, dunce face!” 

“Today is the day you all lose,” Terranort quietly told you all. 

“What?!” Aqua cried. A dark fog began to congeal behind Terranort. 

“Before you even face the thirteen, every last one of you will be torn heart from body. But fear not. The χ-Blade will still be forged,” Terranort said. 

He called his Keyblade to his hand. Beyond the dark fog, atop of the cliffs looming above the wasteland, countless Keyblades stood thrust into the terrain like grave markers. 

“We’re not gonna lose to you,” you said. 

With a smirk at your challenge, Terranort launched himself at Ventus, closing the distance in a single moment, and dealt the boy with a devastating blow with his Keyblade. Ventus was sent flying and crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust. 

“Ven!” Aqua gasped. 

“That’s it!” Bakugou and Sora shouted as they charged at their foe. But Terranort caught Sora’s strike on his Keyblade and sent him sprawling on the dirt as well while he kicked Bakugou out of the way. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku shouted. 

“I’m fine, Deku,” Bakugou said. 

Terranort next set his sights for Kairi, lunging for her. Axel threw himself in front of her, but he, too, ended upcast to one side. 

“Axel!” Kairi cried. 

Terranort held his Keyblade over Kairi’s head, poised to strike. Scrambling to his feet, Sora rushed over and threw his arms around her protectively, you doing the same thing to Sora. 

“(Y/N)!” Class 1-A shouted.

“No! Sora!” Mickey shouted as Donald and Goofy rushed past him to either side. 

Goofy’s shield found its way in front of Terranort’s Keyblade just before it could connect with you and Sora. The clash sent both of them staggering back, while Donald poured his magic into a spell so powerful it created glowing emblems on the ground beneath him. 

“Zettaflare!” he shouted. 

A tremendous beam of light shot from Donald’s staff straight into Terranort, cascading over him and blasting him away. Utterly exhausted, Donald collapsed, and Goofy and Mickey hurried over to him. You rushed over to help Donald while Aqua checked on Ventus, Riku and Kairi went to aid Axel, and Deku rushed over to Bakugou.

“I said I’m fine, damn nerd!” Bakugou shouted. 

“This can’t be real,” Sora whispered. After healing Donald, you rushed over to Axel and did the same thing you did to Donald. You were all completely out of your depth. Sora could hardly believe what he’d just seen; Terranort had taken down four of them with almost no effort at all. And another dark whirlpool was growing beyond his fallen friends, releasing another wave of Heartless. Riku ran over to Sora and took him by the shoulder. 

“Pull it together, Sora! We haven’t lost them. They still have their hearts. But we have to protect them,” he said. 

“Right!” Sora agreed with a nod. The stream of countless Heartless in front of you all swirled upward into a vortex. 

“We stand together,” Aqua said as she came to join Sora and Riku, Keyblade in hand. 

“Go beyond!” Izuku said. 

“PLUS ULTRA!” you and Class 1-A said. Aqua looked back at the king.

“Mickey, Kairi, Goofy, watch the others,” she said. 

“No, we should all get to safety while we still can,” the king pleaded from where he knelt beside Donald. 

“It’s too late for that,” Todoroki replied as he watched the storm build in the sky. 

Masses of Heartless wove through the ravines, congealing into a colossal river that rushed straight at you all. The legion of Heartless--the Demon Tide--was so enormous you all could hardly understand what you were all-seeing.  This was nothing like anything you all had seen in the Realm of Darkness and back at U.A. You all looked on in stunned amazement as the Demon Tide reared into the sky like a whirlwind.

“Denki, what the hell is that?” Mineta asked. 

“It’s called the Demon Tide,” Denki replied. 

“It can’t be...No...” The memories from Aqua’s time in the darkness were rising in her mind. The nightmarish Heartless that came back, again and again, no matter how many times she struck them down...had been just like this. 

Perhaps sensing this sudden weakness in her mind, the storm of Heartless swept over her.

“Aqua!” Riku shouted. He watched as the Demon Tide swallowed up Class 1-A. Mickey, Goofy, Donald, and the rest in one fell swoop. You and Kairi knelt, protecting Axel, but were quickly carried away, too. 

Yours and Kairi’s hands reached Sora’s--but your fingers passed through empty air. As the strength left Sora’s body, his Keyblade slipped from his grasp and vanished. Sora dropped to his knees and screamed, falling forward onto his hands in the dust. 

“Sora!” Riku hurried over to his friend. 

“They’re gone. Kairi, Donald...Goofy, the king...I just lost (Y/N) for the second time...Gone forever.”  Sora raised his head slowly, eyes brimming with tears. “What do we do? Without them...I...All my strength came from them. They gave me all of it. Alone, I’m worthless. We’ve lost...it’s over.” 

Riku considered comforting Sora with a hand on the shoulder, but he chose to get to his feet instead. 

“Sora, you don’t believe that. I know you don’t,” he assured him, then walked toward the Demon Tide to face it himself. 

As Sora watched, the Heartless attacked, and Riku took the full brunt of it head-on. The flood of Heartless split in two against Riku’s Keyblade, streaming out around them to either side. But not even that was enough--eventually, the darkness swallowed him, too. Sora gasped--and then the world went black.

And so, as foretold, the darkness prevailed, and light expired...

[cluelessnamelessao3]

It’s Raining Somewhere Else

The One with the Thousand Yard Stare

“We can’t do anything, Undyne, I am grievously sorry, but I do not currently have any power to punish humans, even if they are criminals, as they do not fall under monster jurisdiction. I’m afraid we have to turn this over to the police.”

“What!?” Undyne shouted, her hands clenched at her sides, “What do you mean we have to turn this over to the police!?”

You could feel her rage, and you understood it, too. In reality, you were angry too. You’d just been scared out of your mind by two gross bigoted men who had no respect for life, and now you were learning that these bigoted men were going to be handled by the police, who was also undoubtedly prejudiced against the monsters?

It was unfair. It was frustrating—no, it was enraging.

Asgore looked pained, and despite your frustration at his helplessness, you also knew however angry you were about the situation, he was surely leagues angrier. In this moment though, the king remained composed, the only sign of distress coming from the steely coldness in his tired eyes. He rubbed his forehead with a massive paw, “I know this is not ideal, Undyne, however we have a very fragile agreement with the human Government regarding our freedom, and I am not willing to subject my people to more years of imprisonment because we do not compromise just a little and follow the humans’ authority.”

She scoffed, and even Papyrus looked ready to say something—which would have been surprising as he’d been nothing but immensely respectful toward the king at that point.

You stared at Asgore, who stood in front of his new home in Mt. Ebott. He wore a patterned button down, slightly ruining the kingly image he held. You couldn’t help but feel so angry on behalf of these monsters. They’d done nothing to deserve this hate. Even the king was just a kind man, wanting to spend his days ruling a peaceful kingdom, and gardening the large yellow blooms that covered his yard.

It wasn’t fair that they suffered, and you couldn’t stand it.

“You can’t do anything even though it was monster-owned property that got attacked? That’s under human jurisdiction? That’s not even a compromise! We’re not even compromising at all! We’re just controlling! How can you not just hate us?”

A shocked, but contemplative silence met your little outburst, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I know it’s not my place. I just… I keep seeing stories like these on the news, and no one is doing anything because everything is getting skewed. People are blaming monsters, as though they incited violence on themselves! It’s just… it’s just not right.”

Before anyone could speak, Asgore laid a large paw on your shoulder. Its weight was heavy, but grounding.

“It is alright, little one. This is not your battle, however I appreciate your fire. Humans like you will help these compromises become true compromises. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us, I am sure, but I believe in harmony between our peoples.”

Despite the firmness of his tone, and the flash of determination in his eyes, there was a lack of conviction in his stance that had you wondering just how much he actually believed that. A year of continued imprisonment after thinking you’d been freed from Mt. Ebott must have taken its toll on his belief. Not to mention the overt and excessive hate monsters received daily.

Undyne was watching you, a look of curiosity in her eyes, and the glint of something else. She looked… almost… hopeful? Asgore’s words echoed in your mind: humans like you will help. You wondered, were you helping? Could you do more from your own position? You didn’t know. You didn’t think so.

All you could do was just to keep doing what you’d been doing. Perhaps if more people just acted as they did before, then the monsters would be more normalised. Maybe there wouldn’t be such hate in the air if people just understood that everyone wanted the same thing.

“Asgore, Muffet also had some suggestions regarding future safety. She said some of her spider kin have volunteered to patrol various establishments owned by our own citizens. They would be able to relay messages much faster than any other patrol. I, however, also want to increase shifts on the royal guard.”

He looked tired, “I will talk to Muffet now.”

Asgore rubbed his chin in thought, looking toward the garden behind him, “these flowers came from Undeground, but they were originally of the Surface. They thrived in the Underground, I had a bed of them in the Castle. I consider how well they are doing here.

“They’re growing, flourishing, and reclaiming their natural place on the Surface. I truly believe that we are like these flowers. We will grow and flourish, but just like the flower, it will take hard work and care to ensure that future.”

He looked towards you, Muffet, Undyne, and Papyrus with more hope in his eyes than was there before. You couldn’t help but feel a little at ease in the presence of the king. He may not be completely assured of a simple and fair future, however he would work for his people to get there.

“It was nice to meet you, little one. I’m thankful to see young humans who are still filled with care for others,” he smiled, eyes crinkling reminding you of the cliched images of Saint Nick, beard, rosy cheeks, and cheerful smile. Asgore had the same fatherly aura.

“Thank you for listening to my story, I hope that these people are brought to justice.”

Asgore nodded, “Indeed, let us pray for a fair resolve to this conflict.”

He looked ready to say more, however the door opened behind him and one wild-haired child poked their head out. They looked to be about thirteen, their face round and sweet in the way that only a child’s could be. Their large brown eyes roved over the small gathering, resting on you for a moment.

Somehow, this child’s stare made you feel as though your soul was exposed. This child looked as though they’d seen a thousand years of life and had come to realise the triviality of it all. You felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“Ah, Chara, my sweet child, I will be in a moment. Would you mind preparing some tea for Muffet and I? We have some business to attend to.” He turned to your group, “I apologise, I must get going now. Frisk isn’t home right now and Chara is left to her own devices.”

You watched as Chara slipped back inside without so much as a look back. You knew the name Frisk—it was all over the news after all: ‘foster child taken in by monsters!’ but you hadn’t known about a second child. Idly, you wondered where she had come from. Did she have family? Surely if she did, she would’ve reunited with them, right?

Feeling unsettled, you shook yourself, waved goodbye to Asgore, and followed Undyne and Papyrus as they marched towards Papyrus’ bright red car. He informed you that it was the first thing he’d purchased—which, made sense, as monsters currency was initially accepted without question. The first three days of their freedom, they were truly free, before they were re-corralled on Mt. Ebott.

“Hey, short-stuff—” Undyne started, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere else, “thank you for talking to the king and being honest. You’re not bad for a human.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would,” you stated, waving your hand as though you could wave away your flustered feelings. You weren’t good at accepting compliments, nor thanks.

“UNFORTUNATELY, HUMAN, IT DOES NOT SEEM TO BE JUST WHAT ‘ANYONE WOULD DO’,” he used his large red gloved hands to put quotations around his words, “SO, YOU ARE A GOOD HUMAN.”

You smiled, “well geez, thank you.”

Undyne laughed, “ngah, you guys are soft!”

They drove you home, back to the dingy apartment building you lived in, but before you took even three steps from the car, you heard Undyne call you as she leaned out the door of the car.

��Hey, kid, I think you’re cool,” you could see some red on her scales.

You could also see Papyrus in the driver’s side of the car pretty much telling Undyne what to say, “would you like to… er, go on a human and monster friendship advent—NGAH! Papyrus that’s dumb! Why would I ask that!?”

You giggled, drawing her attention again, “I’d love to. Can I give you my number? I would like to see you guys again.”

Undyne huffed, reaching a hand out for your phone. Quickly you dropped it into her hand and watched as both Undyne and Papyrus entered their information in it. Suddenly, you had acquired two new friends.

With that done, they sped off, and you wandered into your apartment building. Only to be surprised by a familiar looking skeleton, in the company of a child that looked eerily similar to Chara. The front desk waved at you, drawing the attention of the skeleton and the child. Faster than you could escape, both looked over.

Sans only raised a brow bone and gave a little half-wave. Meanwhile, the child gripped harder on Sans’ hand, watching you with the same wise-beyond-their-years stare that Chara had. It wasn’t nearly so disconcerting, though. There was a determined kindness in their eyes and features you couldn’t quite explain.

You waved before entering the stairwell, the only thoughts on your mind were of cuddling Lampshade, watching cheesy sitcoms, and enjoying some tea.

It wasn’t until late at night, as you laid in your little single bed, mattress on the floor since you hadn’t picked up a box spring for it, that you began to replay the days’ events. The couple of humans in Muffet’s parlour had given you hope for true acceptance, despite the male’s obvious discomfort. The intruders though had thoroughly destroyed that fledgling hope.

The monsters however only proved to be kinder than thought before. Every interaction you had with them, you understood more and more why they were so wary of humans. The warnings you’d received, the cool distance some monsters gave you, the way some avoided your gaze—it made sense. All they’d learned was that humans would inevitably betray them.

You just had to work harder to prove that wrong.

And now, with Undyne and Papyrus’ contacts, maybe you could start doing so. You could prove to monsters that humans could be just as caring as they were. Maybe you could prove to the humans, too, that monsters were just the same as them.

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, looking pensive. You could help. Humans like you could help.

You were filled with determination.