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"Ah, CoMe On NoW, mY mArInE mAtEy, It'Ll LoOk GoOd On YoU!" the offer that has been declined countless times before is proposed once again.
your name is eridan ampora, and you are so fuckin' done wwith that shit.
it feels like none of your meet-ups with the highest of the land-dwelling filth go without him asking at least once, and mostly, the number gets up to five in the power of.
it's not like they're that often, no. you wouldn't steep so low to be all best-friendy with someone upon the land. which, in turn, may not be so great to you, but as if any of them deserve to even be acquainted with the royalty you are. all the ones you know should be eternally grateful that you even lay your eyes upon them with no intention of murder... in the foreseeable future.
and if you do look at them all murderously, you are shoosh-papped immediately, so it's not like they are in much danger anyway. for now.
"WoN't YoU aLlOw A bRoThEr SoMe MoThErFuCkIn' WhImSy In HiS lIfE???"
"your wwhimsy at the cost a my dignity! i ask myself wwhy i evven let you get anywwhere near me wwith that... wwith all that wweird makeup on your noggin, and noww you wwant me to dirty my face wwith it as wwell!"
"ThAt'S oFfEnSiVe To My ReLiGiOuS mOtHeRfUcKiN' vIeWs, FiShYbRo."
"i don't evven care about your religion! you tryna get me into those creepy practices, i don't evven believve in those... mirthfuls or wwhatevver you call them!"
"AnD eArLiEr YoU tOlD mE yOu DoN't RemEmBeR wHaT tHeY aRe CalLeD."
"wwhat the motherfuck evver."
"CoMe On, JuSt OncE! iT aIn'T gOnNa HuRt Ya. If YoU'rE sO wOrRiEd FoR yOuR sLiMy SeNsItIvE sEa SkIn, We CaN wAsH iT oFf WhEnEvEr YoU aSk!" the purple-blooded juggalo is unlawfully persuasive and you are tired.
"you're not gonna back dowwn today, are you?"
"HeLl NaH, bLoBrO."
"if you call me that again i wwill feed ya to Gl'golyb just like your lusus."
"he wasn't fed to that horror and you know it," gamzee frowns and the "WhImSiCaL" tone of his voice disappears.
you turn away from him with an awkward sound and cross your arms on your chest. maybe it was too much this time. you're not the one to be feeling guilty for anything you say, especially not to land dwellers, and really rarely so to those of the sea, but with time you learned that makara's lusus situation was, when it was alive, far from ideal; sea lusus for a land troll? ridiculous, and ridiculously violent, even for you. no matter how little respect or credit you give them, being a wriggler all by yourself... it must've been tough.
"...just make it quick."
makara's grin grows wider and he practically tackles you on the floor. surprisingly so, because his movements and thoughts are still slow, and because you never considered his chatter to be a quadrant advance.
is it? are you imagining?
for a troll your age, having only one fulfilled quadrant is not shameful. for a troll your blood, though...
no, no, you shouldn't be thinking about that. he's of land and he is constantly high on sopor slime. how does he even eat that? seeing how slow he is, maybe his taste buds are already as fried as his think pan.
once you get back from the depths of your romance-ridden think pan, makara is looking at you expectantly. still pressing you against the floor, fronds close to himself, looking like a loafed-up feline. your cheeks flush a bright violet and you push him away. his grin grows wider at the sight and he laughs.
"fuckin' creep," you mumble, and he simply shrugs, as if it's not the first time he's been called that. which is, you think, definitely not the first time.
"don't evven think a doin' that evver again. that's really physical. too physical considerin' our relationship stage. i mean relationship. just relationship."
"WhAtEvS, vI-fRy."
"howw many nicknames havve you got for me?"
"YeS."
gamzee gets up from the floor and with a swirl gives you a helping hand. you politely accept it and he pulls you upwards, then fixes your cape and pulls you to his hive's bathroom.
that toothy grin really makes you uneasy. the face-paint makes it look even bigger, and you are no less than terrified to see what he's gonna do to your face.
it's not even slimy, what's he even on?
ah, yeah. sopor. maybe it messes with physical sensations too. or he's just imagining things. you doubt a sea dweller ever let him get anywhere close to their face, gods forbid so close as to touch it. and he surely never touched your face as far as you can remember.
you would have definitely remembered something like that.
he's certainly got a pep in his step. he's practically bouncing around his respiteblock, collecting everything he might need, and humming something under his breath. your gills twitch nervously when you look in the mirror and notice him suddenly appear right behind you.
he puts some brushes down, then two shades of paint (you can't help but notice that the grey one is darker than whatever he's got on his own face; either he mixes the two to get to his shade, or he purposefully got you a darker one, and you're not sure if you're mad about it or not), then dashes to get a chair. he offers you a seat and carefully takes your cape off.
"It GoNnA gEt DiRtY oThErWiSe," he explains before you even have a chance to object. you huff, roll your eyes and sit on the offered chair, shivering under his touch. he puts your hair away from your face, but they've kept that shape for so long, you doubt it's possible to do without any extra restriction to keep them in place.
"WeLp, ThOsE aRe MoThErFuCkIn' HaIr AlRiGhT," he says.
"you're the one talkin'," you object.
"YeAh, BuT tHaT's KiNdA mY tHiNg, YoU kNoW? tHe FuN cLoWnY hAiR. cUz I'M a ClOwN! hOw Do YoUr MaJeStIcAlLy MoThErFuCkIn' MiRaCulOuS sTrAnDs StAy LiKe ThAt UnDeRwAtEr???"
you don't have the heart to tell him. and you don't have the heart to admit that your own just shamefully skipped a beat from that thought.
"i'd rather ask howw does your stay like that at any givven point of time. that's probably the most vvolume i'vve seen in my entire life, that's for sure."
"AnD yOu'Re LiKe ReAl SeRiOuS aBoUt ThAt?"
"wwhy the hell wwouldn't i be?"
"CuZ YoU'rE a JaCkAsS mEaN mOtHeRfUcKiN' fIsH, mY bRoThEr."
"firstly, howw dare you. secondly, touché. thirdly, howw about you go on wwith your idea before i change my mind and leavve and nevver come back in fear an' terror a becomin' a vvictim of your clowwn business?"
"HeAr YoU wElL, vI-fRy," gamzee assures, and puts his head on your nub to get closer to the mirror.
you shift uncomfortably and your earfins twitch from how near he is to one of them. it's like torture.
"I jUsT gOtTa ThInK hOw To PaInT yOu," he says. you make a grimace and attempt to lean away from him. before you have the chance to say something against such closeness, he straightens up again and laughs. "FuCkIn' WiTh Ya!!! I'vE wAiTeD fOr ThAt FoR SwEePs!!!! HyPeRbOlIsIn'!!!! I kNoW eXaCtLy WhAt'Ll LoOk GoOd."
"that's real great, gam. wwell then?"
"YeSsS!!! i SeE yOu ArE aLsO eAgEr To StArT," more like eager to end (whether the process or your own life, you are not entirely sure), but you bite the inside of your cheek and keep quiet. he tries to brush your hair away again, tad bit more successfully this time, and carefully outlines something on your face with the tips of his claws.
"So I wAs ThInKiN a FrOwN," he says, circling around your lips in a vaguely arched shape. "cUz ThAt'D bE fItTiN' fOr Ya, RiGhT?"
"do wwhatevver your think pan is capable a, gam, really. i am noww a prisoner and i havve abandoned all hope a leavving wwith my mind still intact."
"ExAcTlY mY mOtHeRfUcKiNg PoInT."
despite how mad you are at him pointing that out, you let a little chirp out, earfins twitching in amusement.
"ThOsE aRe No LeSs EaGeR! dOn'T wOrRy LiL' fIn-BrOs I gOt PlAnS fOr YoU tOo!" he laughs and pinches your left earfin. how oblivious can a troll be? you shoosh his fingers away and frown at him. he unravels your scarf and puts it to the side, then finally opens the paint and shoves both little containers into your hands.
you stare at him with eyebrows almost reaching the base of your horns when he, rather snugly, places himself on your lap with brushes in hands.
"If It FeElS lIkE tOo MuCh PaInT yOu TeLl Me, OkAy BlObRo?"
you can't even bring yourself to nod or object or to say anything, actually. that was so extremely impudent of him you can't get mad, even. just pure surprise and confusion.
he dips a brush into dark paint and carefully outlines a frown on your dumbstruck face. you blink a couple of times, interchangeably with both sets of eyelids, and gamzee wheezes at the sight, but visibly restrains himself from joking. he forces your windhole shut (jaw-dropping included in dumbstruckness, apparently?) and colours the frown in, careful so the coat of make-up is even and no spot is uncoloured.
"YoU'rE kInDa MuCh CuTeR wHeN yOu DoN't TaLk," gamzee says, and gets your hair away from the horn bases to get better view. his hands are just slightly warmer than your own skin and chitin, and you strangle the thought of leaning into the touch in search of that warmth. not in a thousand motherfuckin' sweeps.
the paint is wet and uncomfortable and also it kinda restricts your mimicry a bit. you exhale tiredly when he's finished with your mouth, and feel that cold wetness upon your forehead as he outlines your eyebrows. he's holding your face in place, and your gills practically close when he turns it a tad for his own convenience.
"I'd OfFeR yOu A pIe WhEn We'Re DoNe HeRe BuT yOu'Ll PrObAbLy MaKe A pAiNt-SliMe MiX-a-MeSs," he keeps on talking. you wince and frown at the thought of getting sopor slime anywhere near your protein chute. "KeEp StIlL! yOu'Ll MeSs It Up!"
it's really tempting to just knock him down and wash all of that off immediately, but you feel strangely obliged to push through now. maybe as a way to prove yourself that patience is a concept you're capable of dealing with.
surely no other reason.
you close your right eye when he starts painting in the oval around it. he carefully presses under it to colour in under your eyebags and in the folds of your outer eyelids, and with a sigh, you close both eyes and try to relax your face as much as possible. if your hear ducts aren't messing with you, he purrs; the sound seems to be thankful and pleased. your throat involuntarily tenses, letting a similar sound out.
you immediately open your eyes in shock from such a betrayal and a brush sticks into a corner of one. gamzee raises his hands in surprise, and you blink desperately with the secondary eyelid, trying to get the little amounts of paint that got there out.
"WoAh WoAh WoAh WhAt In ThE mOtHeRfUcK, yOu ScArEd Me, FiShMaN!"
"wwhat the hell... my bad, gam, i panicked a bit,"
"NoThIn' To PaNiC aBoUt!" he assures, and with a mumble, you close your eyes and turn to him again. "YeP, jUsT lIkE tHaT."
he gently nubs you to turn your head the other way, and you follow, your second eye getting painted too. the process seems to be somehow soothing for him, and in a way, it's comforting to know that; he does something he enjoys around and with you, and despite him being a land dweller, it kind of makes you happy that someone's glad to be around.
someone except for fef, of course.
"AlRiGhT, yOu CaN oPeN yOuR eYeS nOw, AqUaRiUm," he says.
"another nickname."
"ThIs OnE yOu PiCkEd YoUrSeLf! WhO tHe HeLl'S cAlIgUlA aNyWaY? sOmE kInDa MoViE gUy? NeVeR hEaRd Of HiM."
you mumble something incoherent again and look at gamzee. his tongue is sticking out in effort, and you're sure he's overexaggerating, but it looks rather amusing. he presses a couple of dark dots on your cheekbones, surely making you look even more ridiculous; you're sure that's much more detail than he gives his own make-up.
"it feels so wweird," you whine, and he stops in his tracks. "no, no, you can continue, i just... maybe wwe should keep the wwhitening for another day. i mean. there wwon't be another day wwhen i let you fuck around my face like that, obvviously."
"SuRe, Vi-FrY, sUrE."
"forget i said anythin'."
gamzee's grin grows awfully wide again as he finishes your face up. the second you were about to ask if he's finally done, his brush lowers on your earfin, and your gills close up, breath hitching somewhere in your throat.
"you oblivvious fuck," you mutter after regaining the ability to speak, and more importantly, think. gamzee smirks.
...oh, that fucker-
"OkAy, AlMoSt ThErE," he switches to the other fin and flicks the brush on it. "DoNe!"
he leans back, not leaving your fronds, and squints proudly at his work. finally he gets up, goes around and puts his head on your nub again. you look up at yourself clearly sceptical, but he smiles so happily and proudly. you raise a hand to your face.
"it's... decent," you say. "that is, i'm not really callin' your design ugly per se, that's just... ya knoww. your thing, not mine. i can't fully appreciate it."
"WeLl, I pErSoNaLlY lIkE iT a WhOlE mOtHeRfUcKiNg LoT. tUrNeD oUt EvEn BeTtEr ThAn I eXpEcTeD. wE tOtAlLy ShOuLdN't MaKe OuT nOw BeCaUsE wE'd SmUdGe ThAt MoThErFuCkIn' MaStErPiEcE oF a LoOk."
your whole body shivers. you are so confused. is he hittin' on you? is that just his mannerism?? should you be scared???
"...despite wwhat i said, gam," you shift your hand from the face to makara's cheek. "...thanks, i think."
"MoThErFuCk YeS! hOpE yOu GrOw FoNd Of ThAt WoNdERfUl, MirThFuL aRtFoRm So I cOuLd Do ThAt MoRe OfTeN."
"no fuckin' wway," you object, face growing more and more violet. "it feels like my skin is getting actively vviolated."
"MaYbE i ShOuLd FiGuRe OuT sOmE mOrE wAtErY pAiNt FoR yOu. ToLd YoU fIsH sKiN iS mOtHeRfUcKiNg SeNsItIvE! mAyBe NoT aS sLiMy As I tHoUgHt ThOuGh."
"it's not slimy!"
"YoU hAvE nO rIgHt To SaY aNyThInG aBoUt ThAt BeCaUsE yOu WoN't FeEl ThE sLiMiNeSs Of YoUr MoThErFuCkInG sKiN wItH yOuR oWn SlImY mOtHeRfUcKiNg FiNgErS, mY mArInE bRoThEr."
"i think you just fried my think pan. i smelled your sopor slime breath and noww i am under the influence. fuck havve you done to me."
"Aw, CoMe NoW, sLiMe'S cHiLl! It'S rElAxIn' AnD sHiT! yOu ReAlLy ShOuLd TrY sOmE," another attempt to make you a done for stoner. just as the offer to paint you, this one seems to be gamzee's one and only desire.
"you wwill NOT persuade me to gettin' high wwith you!" you awkwardly smack him. "especially not after sayin' you wwanna make out wwith me."
"I nEvEr SaId ThAt. GeT yOuR mInD oUtTa ThE mOtHeRfUcKiNg GuTtEr!" gamzee laughs. "I kNoW yOu'Re DeSpErAtE, bUt NoT aS dEsPeRaTe To TrIcK mE iNtO pAiLiN' lIkE tHaT."
"I DO NOT WWANT TO PAIL WWITH YOU, MAKARA, YOU FUCKING PERVVERT."
"<:oP"