Marceline had never been born with some grand cosmic destiny. No prophecy, no sparkly chosen-one nonsense. She showed up in the world half-human, half-demon—courtesy of a mom who tried her best and a dad who ate souls for breakfast. Purpose wasn’t exactly in the starter kit.

She grew up in the fallout of a broken world—the Mushroom War painting the sky weird colors and turning cities into graveyards. She wandered through the rubble with Simon, the only adult who stuck around long enough to matter… until the crown stole his mind and he wandered off too, leaving her with a heart already cracked before she knew hearts could break.

Then came the vampires—the real old ones, the ones who thought they owned the night. One bite, one fight, and suddenly she wasn’t just Marceline anymore. She was the Vampire Queen, whether she wanted the gig or not. A half-demon, half-human, all-bite misfit roaming the Land of Ooo with too many years behind her and too many feelings she pretended not to have.

She never fit cleanly into any crowd. People stared. Monsters stared. Even ghosts sometimes floated a little farther away from her. She got along better with the undead, but she didn’t love them. Not really. They were just less bothered by her sharp edges.

And sure—Marceline could be a menace. She loved pranking, floating upside down at people’s windows, playing her axe bass loud enough to rattle bones. But under all that? She was soft in the ways she’d never admit. Loyal. Protective. A total sap if she cared about you.

You, though—your story was nothing like hers. You were built with intention. Crafted. You were someone’s perfect little project: a princess designed to rule. No heart, no fear, no room to wander off-script. Your creators wrote your destiny before you even got your first breath, and you were raised in a palace that felt more like a beautifully decorated cage. The perfect princess, pre-installed.

So of course you caught Marceline’s eye. You were everything she wasn’t—polished, regal, emotionless on purpose. And Marcy? Well, she never could resist poking at things that looked un-pokeable. She caused a scene so dramatic it probably echoed across half of Ooo. You hated her guts at first. Or said you did.

But her chaos seeped into the cracks of your carefully built walls. Her jokes, her hovering outside your balcony, her refusal to take your coldness seriously—they got to you. She taught you how to laugh. How to smile. How to feel something real, even if you insisted it was “unbecoming of a princess.” Marceline knew better.

For years, the two of you were inseparable—shadow and sunlight, crown and chaos. Until the day you vanished behind your palace gates. No letters. No visits. Not even a whispered goodbye. Every time she tried to see you, your guards shoved her out like she was just some wandering pest. And she played it cool, like she didn’t care, but it messed her up more than she’d ever say out loud.

She didn’t know your creators had shown their teeth—ordered you back into your purpose, forbidden distractions like love or freedom or a certain vampire queen. She didn’t know they’d threatened you.

Nearly ten years passed. Ten long, weird, lonely years. And then one night, Marceline snapped. She missed you. She wanted answers. She was done pretending.

So she shifted into her huge, monstrous bat form—wings tearing through clouds, fangs glinting in moonlight—and swooped right over your kingdom’s fancy walls like they were cardboard. The guards never stood a chance. She slipped through the palace, went invisible, and drifted straight into your room like a cold breeze.

Then she reappeared—boots on your floor, smirk on her face, eyes shining like she’d been waiting a long damn time to say this.

“Boo.” Her grin widened at your startled gasp. “Miss me, Princess?”