Maybe a monster
Pairing: Simon Petrikov & Kid!Marceline
Sunmary: Just Simon and Marcy being a wholesome father-daugther duo
Warnings: Blood
Simon and Marceline began to pack for their upcoming expedition or adventure , gathering supplies, and filling their backpacks. Simon was meticulous about it, making sure they had enough food, water, and other necessities to last them. He even added some items to Marceline's little pink backpack, which she hated for its color, but in an apocalypse, it was the best he could find.
As Simon wanted to tie up Marceline's hair into a cute hairstyle, he noticed the wooden soldier toy she had, left on the floor. Marceline's hair was getting longer, and it had started to get in the way, especially when they were on the move. As she sat down, Simon carefully gathered her hair and tried to tie it up, a task he had become surprisingly adept at. Or he thought that. He wasn’t that good actually.
He worked diligently but not without a few mishaps along the way. "Ow!" Marceline winced as Simon accidentally pulled a bit too hard on a strand of her hair. "Simonnn"
Simon chuckled softly, his hands working more gently now. "Sorry, Marcy. It's just getting a bit unruly, and we should find some scissors soon to make it easier for you." Marceline winced again as he finished tying her hair into a makeshift ponytail. "I know, but it hurts when you do it like that."
Simon patted her on the head and leaned back to admire his handiwork. Marceline's hair was now out of her face, and she looked at least a little more presentable. "There we go. You look great, Marcy.”
“Thank you.” She beamed up at him then she looked at her wooden soldier and Marcy hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to bring it along, but ultimately decided against it.
“You aren't taking this toy with you?" Simon asked, pointing to the wooden soldier with a gentle smile.
Marceline huffed, crossing her arms. "No. You said we're coming back."
Simon nodded, recalling his promise. "Right, we are."
But when she wasn’t looking, he quietly slipped the wooden soldier into his own backpack.
With their backpacks securely on their backs, Simon and Marceline stood at the doorway, ready to venture out into the unknown. But as they were about to take that first step, Marceline hesitated, her small frame blocking the way. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she glanced back at the familiar surroundings of their makeshift home.
Simon noticed her reluctance and gently reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand. He looked into her eyes with warmth and reassurance. "Hey, Marcy, it will be okay," he murmured softly. But Marceline's emotions were overwhelming, and a few tears trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t want to leave our home.” She leaned into Simon's touch and his heart clenched as he watched her tears fall. “Oh sweetheart.”
He wrapped his arms around her small form, holding her tightly and providing a warm and comforting embrace to ease her worries. "We'll just go to a little town to find some supplies," Simon reassured her, his voice soft and soothing. "If we keep a steady pace, we'll be back here in no time." Marceline clung to him, her worries slowly dissipating under the reassurance of his words and the safety of his arms. She trusted Simon implicitly, knowing that he would always do his best to protect her.
Marceline gradually let go of Simon, her tear-stained cheeks no longer burdened by worry. He gently wiped her cheeks once more, ensuring that no traces of her earlier distress remained. He looked into her eyes with a reassuring smile. "Where's my brave girl?" he inquired, a hint of pride in his voice.
Marcy chuckled, still feeling the remnants of her anxiety. "I'm not that brave."
Simon hummed thoughtfully and continued, "You didn't say that last week. 'You were the bravest of them all,'" he mimicked her words from their past conversation and that made Marceline's giggle burst forth.
She was too good for this world. She deserved a real childhood.
Simon and Marceline ventured out of the building and made their way through the dense forest, the antiquarian holding her little hand. The silence was only interrupted by the rustling of leaves and the occasional sound of wildlife. Simon's senses remained vigilant, but he hadn't detected any signs of zombies nearby. Perhaps they had chosen a good time to set out.
“Simon, do you think we can find some clothes for Humbo?" Marcy asked, her eyes gleaming with hope as she tugged on Simon’s black cloak.
Simon smiled at her suggestion. "We could certainly try. Did you ever watch Toy Story?"
Marceline blinked in confusion. "Toy Story? What's that?"
Simon chuckled softly, realizing that the reference might not make sense in this post-apocalyptic world. "Never mind. It's just a movie about toys that come to life when humans aren't around.”
Marceline's eyes widened with wonder. "No way! Do you think Humbo does that?"
Simon grinned at her infectious enthusiasm. "Maybe. Who knows? Humbo might have his own little adventures when we're not looking."
Marceline let go of Simon's hand and brought Humbo to her eye level. She peered at the stuffed toy with an expression of earnest curiosity and playfulness. "Are you coming to life when we're not looking?" she asked, her voice filled with childlike wonder.
Of course, Humbo remained silent, as inanimate toys usually do. But Marceline wasn't deterred by his lack of response. She scrunched up her face in an adorable way, her imagination turning a simple toy into a potential participant in secret adventures, just as she had imagined.
Simon couldn't help but smile at her innocence and creativity, feeling just a bit better that he could still give her some kind of childhood "I'm not taking my eyes off you now," she declared to Humbo, as if daring him to prove her wrong.
After walking for a couple of hours, Marceline grew exhausted. Her little feet ached from the journey, and she found a comfortable spot near a tree to take a break, still holding Humbo in her hands.
She looked up at Simon with a pout and said, "My foots hurts, Simon."
Simon tsked playfully. "Feet, Marcy," he corrected her.
Marceline's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. "Sorry," she said, her voice filled with a hint of embarrassment.
Simon chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "No need to apologize, dear. You're doing great. Now, let's see if you remember this one. Give me the plural for tooth."
Marceline grinned, ready to show off her knowledge. "I know this one. It’s teeth!"
Simon nodded with a proud smile. "Yep. You're a quick learner, Marcy." And then they settled under the tree for a bit, enjoying a moment of rest.
Marcy placed Humbo near the tree, her gaze occasionally darting over to the stuffed toy as if she hoped to catch it moving on its own. Simon, however, was grappling with his own internal struggle. Hunger gnawed at his insides, and his stomach ached. His vampire instincts had been triggered, and he knew he needed blood. He couldn't help but catch the scent of nearby bunnies, their warm, living blood calling to him.
His black eyes flickered toward Marceline, his sensitive vampire senses detecting again a different scent of blood coming from her. She was only half-human, and Simon had always wondered how her blood tasted. He was so sure it had an interesting aroma and it was both haunting and strangely captivating. He hadn’t had human blood in so long.
A beautiful face appeared in his mind eye, her face twisted in agony, falling to the ground.
He stood up abruptly and Simon quickly pushed those thoughts away, feeling a surge of guilt for even considering such a thing. He would never hurt Marceline.
Simon took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on something else. He stood up and patted Marceline's head gently. "I'll be right back, Marcy. Just going to look for some food."
Marceline looked up at him, her concern evident. "You okay, Simon?" Simon managed a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Marcy. Just need a little snack. I won't be long.”
Notes: Wrote this instead of studying. Hope you guys liked it.
Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/Part 10/?
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