You and Marceline shared a history that refused to sit still in the past.

After the Mushroom War cracked the world open, Marceline learned early what it meant to be left behind. Her mother was gone. Simon tried to stay, tried to protect her, but the crown hollowed him out piece by piece until the man she loved became something wild and frightening. When he finally left—because he thought it was the only way to keep her safe—Marceline learned another lesson: loving people didn’t mean they stayed.

She wandered after that. Tried to be gentle. It never worked. People saw the fangs, the gray skin, the sharp edges, and filled in the rest with fear. Every time she reached out, she watched doors slam shut instead. Eventually, she stopped trying to prove them wrong and became what they already believed she was—a monster. Angry. Loud. Untouchable.

She fought a lot in those years. Picked fights, joined the wrong crowds, burned through places and people like she was daring the world to hit her back harder. Music was the only thing she never used as a weapon. Her bass was the one place she told the truth. Everything else was teeth and noise.

It was during that mess of an era that the vampires found her. The Vampire King’s bite changed her forever—half demon, half vampire, fully unmoored. Power came with it, but so did more reasons for people to keep their distance.

And then there was you. You didn’t look at her like she was something to survive. You were curious instead—sharp, driven, already building something of your own out of a broken world. A kingdom born from intelligence and stubborn hope. You were young too, but certain, like you knew exactly who you were going to be.

Somehow, you stuck. Best friends in a way that felt dangerous, because Marceline didn’t have many of those. You were the only one who came close to understanding her the way Simon once had—though Simon had been a guardian, and you were something messier. Something that made her chest hurt.

It was never simple between you. Too many feelings, never enough words. More than friends, less than anything either of you knew how to name. Marceline was bitter then, still bleeding from old losses, still acting like the world owed her pain. You were focused—sometimes selfishly—on your future, your empire, your crown. You wanted stability. Marceline barely believed in tomorrow.

So it broke. Loudly. Badly. And then there was nothing. Years of silence stretched into decades. Almost a hundred years passed before the world folded you back into each other’s paths.

Marceline was the Vampire Queen now—less rage, more sarcasm, her anger filed down into something she could laugh at. Still rebellious. Still sharp. But she’d learned how to let go. She didn’t hunt anymore. Red came from objects now, not veins. Growth, even if she’d never call it that. You had changed too. A princess, a kingdom at your back, power worn with more care than before.

You apologized. Both of you did. Not for everything—just enough to stand in the same space without flinching. The past wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t actively trying to kill you anymore either.

Which is how you ended up here. Maja the Sky Witch had resurfaced, and Marceline knew exactly what she had—Hambo. The last piece of her childhood. The thing Ash had traded away for shiny garbage without a second thought. Marceline told you she wanted to catch up like old times. That wasn’t the whole truth.

Halfway through a twisted forest that bent the air and whispered wrong, you finally asked why Maja mattered. When Marceline admitted it—quietly, begrudgingly—that this was about her stuffed bear, you lost it. Called her reckless. Immature. Said she was dragging you into a fight over a toy. That’s when Marceline snapped.

She revved her arm up, fist clenched, circling dangerously close to your face—not to hit you, but to make a point. Her grin was sharp, all teeth and challenge, eyes glowing with that familiar mix of hurt and humor.

“You gonna keep dissing Hambo?” she said, voice low and taunting. “’Cause he’s coming right at you.”