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#also fin just gets pushed aside like usual lol
skeletorific · 4 years
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Okay then, can I please get some good ol cuddlin with Marvus an a short female s/o that has been down in the dumps lately?
Oh now you’ve gone and done it. Marvus is on a one man quest to ruin my life, and what’s worse is, he’s succeeding. This got LONG but here we go!!!
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The green rooms of clowntown were never exactly the most hospitable place to hang out. Aside from the usual motley crew of unstable clowns ( no one on Marvus’ team would kill you, necessarily, but that doesn’t mean injury wasn’t a threat when a clown was on a rager), the hygiene of the place left something to be desired. Sweat, spilled faygo, sopor slime usually smeared on the walls, as well as a medley of other fluids you usually didn’t care to think about. Combine that with the odors usually wafting from the concert pits out front and, well…..it took some getting used to, to say the least. You showed up to see him after his concerts when you weren’t busy, but all told, not your favorite locale on Alternia.
Usually Marvus’ dressing room was a bit nicer. In fact you could probably head back there now, but…something kept you rooted to the couch, curled up and facing away from the door. The same as when you’d first walked in and collapsed there a couple hours prior. Mindlessly scrolling through Chittr, barely absorbing what you were seeing but incessantly refreshing. 
You weren’t feeling up to it. That was happening more and more lately. It was odd, like the more friends you made, the more that empty spot inside you seemed to gape. And the harder it was to face it. It was like…how much more could you give? Or not give…devour. That’s what it felt like. Like you were one of those perpetually hungry insect lusii that demanded blood from their charges at all costs. Never satisfied, only in search of the next friendship meal.
And it was starting to burn you out.
That wasn’t the only factor, of course. Lack of sleep. Low seratonin. General Alternian shittiness. Rainy Day Syndrome or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. You were so tired and nebulously sad that all you wanted to do was burrow into your makeshift bed back at the outpost, but you’d done that all morning. Only made you feel worse.
So…..you came here.
Marvus was busy, which is a bit like saying the sky is gray or a tealblood loves justice. Its one of those immutable facts of nature that hardly bears repeating. But you came anyways. Because coming here, even those brief snatches of moments he could usually spare you after shows were usually enough to leave you feeling a bit….more real, if that made sense. Like you were a little more tethered to solid ground.
It was probably useless to try and define what you were. Tagora, who’d insisted on knowing the details of  your relationship (and the name of Marvus’ usual legal representation, “just in case” he was looking for someone with a bit more “verve”) had said it was floating on the edges of some quadrant, he just wasn’t sure which one. Tyzias had bluntly asked whether you’d found a matesprit, and Polypa wanted to know if you were looking for a bit of flexibility with the moiraillegiance.
The truth was you weren’t sure where things stood with you. Not just because the quadrants were still relatively alien to you, but also because Marvus didn’t seem pressed to put a word on it himself. Like nearly everything he did there was a casualness to it. He seemed to enjoy your company, and you enjoyed his. He was physically affectionate, but in a manner so light it felt entirely natural. Intuitively you knew that if you ever asked him to stop, he would.
You weren’t fooling yourself: this was something beyond friendship. But oddly enough the ambiguity of it all was appealing. It was nice to have something without the usual batshit stakes everything on Alternia seemed to have. 
You were so lost in this contemplation that you didn’t notice the music fading into screams, which signified the end of a show. The green room slowly filled with idle chatter and sounds of furniture moving as the clowns unwound. But it was a hand on your arm that finally snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to see a familiar face.
“hey” Marvus said, the usual lazy grin on his face as he looked down on you. He looked almost as beat as you felt, sweaty from the stage lights and eyelids drooping low. Despite that, you feel your troubles start to dim a bit just looking at him.
You smile slightly, sitting up a bit to cover his hand with your own. “hey. Finished up for the night.”
“ye. big crowd 2nite so the roadies r gunna b cleanin up for a while. gunna crash here 2nite and head for the next spot in the mornin.” His thumb traced a slow spiral on your arm as he cocked a painted eyebrow. “u doin aight?”
“…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”  You say, hoping that pause wasn’t as long as it felt. “Why? Something wrong?”
“nah lol. just usually dm me when ur gunna turn up.”
“Is it ok that I’m here?”
“Mmm…” He smirks, pretending to consider it before leaning down to peck your cheek. It pulls an unwitting grin from you, despite the definite greasepaint smudge its left behind. “maybe. u wanna eat smthn?”
You shook your head. You weren’t hungry.
“aight. brb. gunna grab somethin b4 i pass out.” He rose to his feet with his usual casual grace. 
“Ok.” You let go of his hand. He winks and heads for the catering table.
There’s a warm flutter in your chest, but…not as much as you were hoping? No, that’s not fair. But you’re looking around at all these chatty juggalos and it’s only making you realize how tired you are. You just want to decompress right now, but he’s a chronic extrovert. He could be in here for hours, and you didn’t want to pull him away from that just to tend to your own vague emotional needs right now. 
With a resigned sigh, you turn back to your phone. It’s fine. You’ve definitely put up with worse. And at least you’d get to spend some time with him…
About ten minutes later you hear footsteps behind you, getting closer, and then coming to a stop right behind you. You don’t turn around, just scoot your legs a big to give him the room to sit down. You hear a heavy sigh from him that you assume is the precursor to collapsing into the couch. 
Only to be startled by an arm slipping around your waist and hoisting you into the air. 
You yelp, nearly dropping your phone in surprise as you scramble to catch yourself against him. With a couple of effortless turns of your body, Marvus braces you on his hip with one arm and steadies a plate of food with the other, heading out of the room. 
You feel your cheeks growing warmer as you get a grip on his shoulders. None of the other clowns even spare you a glance as he walks by, but despite the apparent frequency of its occurrence, you don’t think you’re ever going to get used to him carting you around like a toddler. Marvus is average by highblood standards, but that doesn’t mean much to a tiny human. Something he takes no small amount of glee in reminding you of as often as possible.
“U-uh….where are we going?” You manage to splutter out. 
“dressin room” He said simply, nudging the door open with his foot and heading inside. The quarters, as always, are somewhat cramped, but luxuriously decked out, closets stuffed with fashionably shredded clothes, a recuperacoon in the corner, and a sectional sofa big enough to double as a bed. Not that anyone on this planet knows what a bed is. Marvus sets the plate of food down on the vanity and shakes off his jacket, trading you from arm to arm. 
“Er…didn’t you want to….” 
“mm. think they can live w/o me 4 a bit lol” Jacket successfully discarded to the floor, he tossed you on the couch like a sack of potatoes and crawled in next to you, bringing the plate with him and propping his elbow up on the arm of the couch to eat.
You frown, sitting up a bit. Marvus never leaves early. You’re lucky if you can drag him out after half the crew has blacked out from the faygo, and-….
Troll fucking jegus, did he really.
“….you don’t have to do this just for me.”
He flicked his eyebrows in that infuriatingly coy way he has, like a silent question mark. “do what”
“Put yourself out for my sake.” 
Dead silence. Which from Marvus is as damning as anything.
You look down at the couch, suddenly unable meet his gaze. There’s a loose thread that you pick at. “It’s not a big deal. Just a low tank day. I’ll survive.”
“if that were true ya wouldn’t be here”
“I wanted to see you.”
“so, ur seein me.” He grinned, licking a stray crumb off his fingertips. “less ur interested in seein more, cuz dan.”
You flush, nudging his shoulder. “I’m serious. Don’t worry about it. You can go out if you want.”
Marvus sighs, tugging lightly at the strings of your hoodie till you’re laying down face to face with him. He pushes some hair out of your face, claws scratching lightly at your scalp. It melts you, like always. Your eyelids lower instinctively as you lean into the touch.
“u think ‘m here against my wishin? shizz, babe, i ain’t that nice a guy.” He grins, continuing to stroke your hair. “‘m here cuz it don’t feel good watchin u b all low n slow. sacriligeous, if u think abt it.” 
His hand slowly traces from your hair, down to your side, coaxing you towards him. You give up fighting it, burying your face in your chest and wrapping your arms around him tight. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck, his breath ghosting on your skin. Like most highbloods, his skin was on the chillier side, but it contrasts nicely with the muggy heat of his dressing room. You feel his fangs gently scraping your neck as he kisses you softly.
“just lemme do my m-fin good deed for the day, aight?” He murmurs. “i gotcha…”
And somehow, you know that even if that hole isn’t getting any smaller….it sure as hell isn’t getting any bigger. 
Not with him around. 
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spiderscribs · 7 years
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headcanons for our fav sharks trace and fin 🦈 sharks rule
send me a character and i’ll list my headcanons for them
hell yeah
Trace
his planet was mostly tropical
the ending disaster was hurricanes
i’m still working out details on his planet but i’ve been loosely basing every planet off of an existing country and/or time period, but my inspiration for trace’s planet is american samoa
trace had 132 brothers. shark leprechauns tend to have huge clutches of eggs
people on his planet often had tattoos, and he does too. they shave the fuzz where they want the tattoo to be, ink the skin, and from then on only trim the fuzz in the shape of the tattoo to keep the green from covering up the ink
trace and his brothers often had surfing competitions and trace always placed 3rd
i think i said this w crowbar but dancing had different meanings on different planets (cultural differences u feel) and on trace’s planet it was more of a confirmation of a charm together than anything else
when the planet started to end, the residents were convinced that because of trace’s temporal ability, he was meant to save them- which is something he would never be able to do in all reality
he plays ukulele rather well, and has a good singing voice, but he uses his talents to sing the worst songs he possibly can
his favorite song is mr. brightside and nobody can tell me otherwise
he likes piña coladas and getting caught in the rain
he gets jealous fairly easily
depression session covered up by memes
his best friend is itchy
he’s gay for quite a few others in the felt, (itchy, doze, fin, crowbar, matchsticks, quarters, cans) albeit to varying degrees
he’s got teeth similar to those of a cookie cutter shark 
he likes being in the car if he’s driving or if he has the back seat to himself, otherwise he hates extended car rides
he once tried to snort cocaine through his gills and nearly died like a stupid idiot
felt manor has a pool. trace will sit and float on an innertube even though he knows damn well how to swim
he won’t kill himself but if he happens to get hit by a bus while crossing the street that’s just fine with him
he’s lazy as fuck
sometimes he steals one of stitch’s ironing boards and uses it to surf down sand dunes
he goes tray surfing at the local fast food joint, McMonald’s
one time he climbed into a garbage can and had itchy push it down the stairs just to record it and put it on the internet
he’s always referring to people with nicknames instead of their names
says bro/dude/bruh/etc. a lot
“say that about fin one more time and this cuestick is going right up your ass”
lowkey always ready to fight
he spends a majority of his free time playing his ukulele and chilling w fin
he likes to play guitar hero and absolutely destroys anyone that plays against him
“hey itchy check it out slick stabbed me lol isnt that cool”
also if u wanna know what kind of music he likes i made him this playlist on spotify
Fin
his planet was mostly ocean sparsely dotted with islands
the ending disaster was ocean acidification
his planet had both sea-dwelling and land-dwelling leprechauns
the land-dwelling leprechauns saw the sea-dwelling as nothing more than wildlife and would prey on them for food 
fin’s planet was chock-full of subnautica-esque marine life, but bigger and scarier 
these terrifying bastards were a thing
basically everything on fin’s planet aside from most leprechauns was gargantuan and built to kill
fin often has nightmares about his planet and his experiences there
fin’s peppered with various scars from narrow escapes with predators and other leprechauns
he’s been caught by fisherman and escaped multiple times
he’s afraid of jellyfish, starfish, nets, hooks, and enclosed spaces
the felt first found him washed up on an island, injured and trying to catch reef fish by using the future trails to snap at them so they’d be too hurt to swim away from him
he was instantly attached to trace bc hey!! another shark!!
he didn’t know how to talk or understand speech at first. he was taught a few words of trace’s home language, and later english along with the rest of the felt
he doesn’t know how to read and can’t see well enough to read most things anyways
he’s totally colorblind. he only sees things in greyscale 
he behaves like some odd combination of a cat, a puppy, and of course, a shark
he loses teeth often
he’s afraid of quarters
he’s also afraid of diamonds droog but like nobody else in the midnight crew lmfao
if it weren’t for the gang war, fin and deuce would be best friends and nobody can tell me otherwise
if someone’s sitting on the floor or the couch fin will try to lay across their lap like a big dog that thinks it’s still small enough to be held
fin will eat anything and everything
he chews on furniture and wall corners all the time
he likes to roll around in the sand while trace is dune surfing
he forgets he can open doors and will just sit at a closed door and whine until someone opens it for him
a newspaper is delivered to felt manor every morning and fin usually brings it to stitch regardless of if stitch wants the newspaper or not
if someone tries to take something that he’s chewing on he assumes they’re trying to play tug-o-war
he bites sometimes whether he means to or not
he’s got some temper issues
usually if he has a problem he just yells for trace 
he often gets his head stuck in garbage cans whilst trying to eat garbage
fin gets excited when people talk to him like they’re excited, regardless of what they’re actually saying.
he more often than not walks around on all-fours because it’s easier for him than walking upright
Both
both had dorsal fins between their shoulder blades. trace’s receded as he got older, and fin’s was cut off by a fishing crew
they both have a shark tail. trace has a short tail and fin’s tail is long enough that it drags on the ground behind him no matter how he stands/walks
they’ve both got gills. trace has 6 gills and fin has 10
they both love to swim and they like being outside
they wind up getting into trouble often because one has a stupid idea and the other just goes along with it because “it’ll be fun!”
they both basically live for attention and affection, though trace is awkward about approaching it and fin just assumes everybody wants to snuggle with him
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