Chapter Text
Clawing brainless, weightless,
Lifeless, to find my way out of a grave self dug with hands that betray that, for which I stand.
A being made to be feared, I cower at every command. Call me a coward, call me a freak,
Of lifeless bodies is what you reek.
Hold me gently, cradle me,
Though I won't forget what you did to me.
What you made me see.
Am I still a mistake, or the apple of your eye?
Why won't you let me go, say one last goodbye?
What is it about me that keeps you tied?
On day one, Marceline sat on the porch with her legs drawn up to her chest, chin resting on her knees as the night wind brushed against heated skin, the night saying hello as she sat, almost mindlessly staring out at everything and nothing all at once. “May I read your thoughts?” A soft voice came from behind her. The one voice she had been dreading.
“Carmen.” Marceline said almost mutedly. “I thought you were resting.”
“I was.” Carmen hummed in answer as she shuffled to sit next to Marceline. The breeze of the night, no matter how cold, helped Marceline relax as she simply breathed, feeling Carmen's arm brush against hers. “My room has a big window, it overlooks the garden— the porch. I saw you, and… well, call me selfish, but I wanted to talk to you.” Carmen paused, reaching out to pluck a blade of grass out of the ground by her feet. “I always want to talk to you.” Carmen spoke to the ground, and neither Marceline nor Carmen made a move to meet eyes again.
Picking at a thread on her nightgown, Marceline felt acid on her tongue as she frowned, her eyes drawn to her fingers which uselessly plucked at the fabric. Twisting, pulling— slowly unravelling the fabrics that would one day fall apart.
Fall apart…
“How's Poppy?” Marceline asked, because when she had been rotting in her room, cursing out Carmen's departure, she hadn't made a move to see Poppy, either, and Poppy had stopped knocking after a few hours.
“She's alright. Maybe a bit nervous with everything that is going on.” Carmen shrugged. “We all are.”
“Right… the Big Unmentionable,” Marceline scoffed before folding her arms over her chest, her mouth running dry as she felt Carmeline still beside her. “Why are you so desperate to keep me around?”
“Because I…” Carmen shook her head, and stopped speaking, stopped breathing entirely.
“Because you what?”
“Must you make me say it?” Carmen's eyes were wide, her hands twisting together uncomfortably. “Because… because I love you, Marceline.” Carmen croaked, and Marceline let out a high pitched, forced laugh that only had Carmen frowning.
A pause. Marceline was frozen, her mouth running dry before she finally, after seconds of stunned silence, found her words again. “Oh, that sure is rich. And bull. Do you know why?” Marceline pushed herself to stand, pacing towards the door before she stomped right back, repeating that move as she spoke. “Not too long ago, you would've chopped off my head, had I made a wrong move, and now you suddenly love me? I am your biggest mistake, remember? Do not fool yourself into believing I am anything more than that.”
“No, Marceline,” Carmen called after her once Marceline reached to tug open the door. “I do love you. I loved you then, no matter how much I tried to hide it by being angry… and I love you now.”
“No, you do not.” Marceline shook her head. She could not let herself believe it.
“I do. I do, Marceline!” Carmen stepped forward, pressing her hand against the door to slam it shut once Marceline reached to open it once more. “I love you. Why can't you—”
Whirling around, Marceline snarled. “You don't! You cannot. I'm… I am not right. I am just a monster, remember? No one loves monsters.” Her teeth were bared, her eyes a deep pool of anger. “You cannot love a monster!”
“Can I not love the wolf that runs along the river's edge? Can I not love the bear that growls just so?” Carmen held her breath, her free hand coming to land on Marceline's arm. “Can I not love you, no matter how much you look like you would rather rip my head from my shoulders?”
“No.” And perhaps it was cruel. Cruel to decide who could and could not love, but Marceline could not continue breathing any longer, as long as Carmen was near.
Maybe it was cruel that it had started out with Marceline craving Carmen, needing her like one needs to connect to another soul— and now she could barely stand being near her, because it hurt like taking a first breath after one had been devoid of oxygen for too long.
Marceline could not breathe around Carmen, for that was the last thing Carmen had not taken from her. That, and her name.
“Well, I do,” Carmen stopped her once more. “I love you, Marceline.”
“Shut up!”
“I have tried to turn my mind away from it, I have run, I have tried every possible thing to forget about you, but I cannot… You were the first person who did not run— the first who wanted me as I am, not as what I can be. Am I selfish in saying that you might have loved me, once?” Carmen's eyes were wild, now, unmistakably filled with tears.
“Once,” Marceline bit down on the inside of her cheek as Carmen nodded, a self assurance. “Yes.”
“And?” Carmen reached out to swipe stray strands of hair behind Marceline's ear. “What do you want, Marceline?”
“I want for nothing,” Marceline answered, though it was untrue. This showed in her voice as it wavered, paired with a little furrow between her brows. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Tell me no. Tell me to leave, and I will never ask again. Tell me to stop, Marcy—”
At that nickname, spoken like a prayer, Marceline groaned lowly, a sound of frustration before her hands came up. Call them traitors for the way they softly cupped Carmen's cheeks, fingers brushing like she could simply hold without thinking of the past.
Though she did not lean in, she did not press their lips together like she had craved to for many, many years. Instead she leaned forward, her lips connecting with the soft stretch of Carmen's neck.
And perhaps that was for the best. Need, Marceline could handle. Lust was easy. Love? Love ached, and it burned like a mark she could not brush away.
Carmen was soft in her hands, but did not stay that way for long. The moment the tips of aching fangs touched her skin, she took hold of Marceline's shoulders and pushed, kicking the door open before pushing Marceline against it to shut it behind them. Then, her hands were everywhere. On Marceline's cheeks, her shoulders, her arms, even the threads of her dress before it was ripped to pieces, baring her to Carmen's watchful eye.
“Carmen—”
“Tell me to stop.” She muttered once more, her voice weighed down by an undeniable want, now. A need so undoing, Marceline choked on it. Then, Carmen began tugging Marceline towards her bedroom, sure and strong hands guiding her like they were always supposed to. Like they belonged.
Maybe Marceline could allow herself to fall into this— a sick way of saying goodbye.
Once the bedroom door closed, Carmen's mouth finally found Marceline's skin, starting at the stretch of her shoulder that Carmen kissed like she was cherishing Marceline.
Like she was loving her…
God, Marceline wouldn't survive this night.
“Have you ever wondered what it feels like to fly, Marceline?” Carmen asked as her fingers found the little patch of hair below Marceline's stomach.
“No… Why?”
“You're about to know.” Fangs descended into skin, just as fingers began to tease, and Marceline was already done for. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to indulge her need for a little while…
Minutes or maybe hours after, Marceline laid on her side in bed, her face buried into the pillow as she breathed slowly, a hand resting on her hip as Carmen slept behind her. Marceline hadn't been able to close her eyes— she hadn't even been able to let herself think. Carmen's touch burned, and so did her words.
She had often wondered what it would be like to be loved by Carmen… though those were only her deepest and darkest of thoughts. Thoughts she couldn't ever give life to.
Why now?
Perhaps Carmen only said she loved her in a last attempt to stop her from leaving.
But then, why had she touched Marceline like she was something to be worshipped?
Marceline turned, slowly shifting, only to bring her own hand up and touch Carmen in return. A gentle brush of knuckles across a soft and cold cheek, a touch to soothe the inner beast within her. The one that craved like no other. Marceline let it off of its leash for just a second too long, causing Carmen to stir—
Marceline panicked.
And then Marceline ran.
Not out of the house, not to any nearby bar, just to her own bedroom so she could fall into soft sheets and pull the warm blanket up and over her. She looked down at the pretty stars, praying on their image as she felt her cheeks grow wet with tears, her top lip turning salty.
Marceline was a creature crafted to be hated, but never loved.
She saw it in Carmen's eyes, and she could not lie awake, knowing this would all end soon.
It was just a tragic fantasy she could never indulge in. Not for longer than a few sickening days.
Maybe Marceline was never meant to be loved, even as a human. Perhaps it wasn't even the beast inside her that made it so, but the person deeply buried beneath unfathomable amounts of blood.
The lingering sizzle on her skin was a reminder of Carmen's love.
Not even just a reminder— no, it was a brand.
Maybe one day, both could be whole again. Though not together.
That was Marceline's big plan. To leave and build herself back up again. Maybe she was the selfish one for staying, in giving Carmen the hope that she wouldn't leave, anyway.
She hoped Carmen wasn't expecting to change her mind.
Marceline wasn't sure she ever could.