#she tries to talk marcy out of... whatever she’s planning to do but Marcy’s like ‘hhh sorry anne’

[misted-buttercup-enjoyer]

Fionna and Cake: Simon and Marcy So Far: Analysis Part 1

INTRO:

The first two episodes of Fionna and Cake have been released, capturing the hearts of fans, and with it, some new Simon and Marcy content has dropped. Ever since the father/daughter duo made their debut in Adventure Time’s tearjerker episode “I Remember You” (season 4, episode 25) they have smote the hearts of fans everywhere. With the first two episodes, here is my analysis on which direction their relationship is going in this spinoff series.

FLASHBACK:

Fionna and Cake Episode 2 “Simon Petrikov” opens with the two running away from some oozers. They take shelter in a sewer. Simon considers putting on the crown, but Marcy pulls his hand away and glares at him. The oozers leave the two to chat. The button of Marcy’s overall dress pops off and Simon begins sewing it back on. Marcy asks him what she’d do without him. Simon assures her that “you’re so great, Marceline, someone else would definitely find you and take care of you. Maybe even someone rich!” Simon continues this fantasy, telling Marceline that she’d live in a castle with “food, medicine, and trained squirrels to tend to your every need. And as for me, I’d uh…um…” Simon directs this at Marceline, but he seems to be saying what he wants for Marceline. In Stakes Episode 2 “Everything Stays,” when Simon is officially leaving Marceline and barely holding onto his sanity, he promises he’ll send someone to take care of her. (On a related note, we see in season 7 episode 10, “Marcy and Hunson,” that Simon summoned Hunson to take care of Marceline until she left his care after the fries incident.) Simon wants Marcy to be safe, and he’d want to believe if something happened to him Marceline would be okay and someone would come take care of her. For food, obviously in the apocalypse, food would be hard to find. In season 5 episode 14 “Simon and Marcy,” Marceline tries to make Simon breakfast and resorts to pine needles and deer guts. For medicine, we can see Simon worries a lot about Marceline when she gets sick. We see when Marcy gets a fever in “Simon and Marcy,” he dedicates the whole day to finding chicken soup for her. He’d want her in an environment where she can access healthcare easily. For trained squirrels, well, it’s a funny way to put it, in classic Adventure Time style, but I think it ties back to Simon wanting Marceline to be well taken care of. But we can see he doesn’t really have any plans for himself. He’s lost his home, his books, his fiancee, and his entire life’s structure at this point. Marcy and whatever he carries in his backpack is his entire world now, and he can’t imagine what his world would be without her to take care of.

THE FUTURE:

Simon trails off when he talks about a life without Marceline. And now we’re in a future where this…kind of came to pass. Don’t get me wrong, Marcy and Simon are still close. Simon calls Marcy, Marcy is happy to hear from him even though she’s busy–more on this phone conversation later–and Marcy mentions hanging out soon. But Marceline can longer be Simon’s whole world like she used to be. She’s grown up, she’s been taking care of herself for about a thousand years and she has a girlfriend and lots of friends and acquaintances. Heck, she hasn’t just been taking care of herself, she kept Ice King company and took care of him in a way too. She’s delighted that Simon’s back, but she’s no longer dependent on Simon’s protection like she used to be. She’s also no longer right there to observe Simon’s behavior and remind him to take care of himself, like we see her doing in the flashback when he almost puts on the crown. Not only does Simon not have Marcy to take care of, he doesn’t have any reason not to spiral into this depressive state he’s in at this point (Fionna and Cake Episode 2 “Simon Petrikov,") and he doesn't have her little reminders.

Which brings me back to the subject of their call. Marcy immediately asks Simon how he’s doing, and how’s work. Simon responds by saying it was fine, skimming over how bad it actually was. But why? Why is he doing this?

CHILDCARE IN THE APOCALYPSE 101:

A big part of parenting in the apocalypse would’ve been keeping Marceline calm so she doesn’t panic. When Marceline gets a fever in “Simon and Marcy,” the first thing Simon says after waking up, feeling her forehead when she's sick and mentioning the fever got worse is “I mean, don’t freak out or anything.” We can see through what glimpses we get of his travels with Marceline that he’s very optimistic and playful. He makes up a song for Marceline (Marceline mentions him making up more silly songs), plays games with her, makes a lot of jokes (humor is one hell of a coping mechanism), and in the flashback we see him telling Marceline that this is one of the nicest sewer’s they’ve hidden in. I think it’s important for us to remember how quickly Marceline grew up to Simon. Not even in the usual “they grow up so fast” way, but as in, when he left her, she was about ten years old. The next time he saw her in any fit state to recognize her, she was a thousand years old with the mindset and body of a young adult. The timeskip would’ve been jarring for him, to say the least. It’s been about twelve years since that sudden change, but old habits die hard. Simon hasn’t stopped trying to keep Marceline from freaking out over a lesser problem. Not just because he’s used to keeping her calm in the apocalypse and can’t help but view her as his little girl still, but no one likes admitting to a loved one they’re experiencing a mental health crisis* in the first place. Along with this, while in his state of magical madness, Ice King’s condition doubtless caused Marceline a lot of anxiety and unhappiness. On top of his habits of not freaking her out and the usual desire not to explain what you’re going through, he wouldn’t want to cause Marceline any more grief than she’s already been through. Don’t worry, Simon, Marcy’s already super traumatized. Helping you out won’t hold a candle to everything she’s been through.

THE PHONE CALL:

I feel like what really drives home the difference in how Simon still sees her vs. how she is now is the phone call. Don’t get me wrong, Simon loves Marceline and is doubtless happy for her that she has a girlfriend, a career in music, and a life.

But when he calls Marceline, he’s been reminded of her by watching little girl’s caretaker help her reach a watermelon. A little child. When Simon calls her up, she is getting matching tattoos with Princess Bubblegum (or, trying to, anyway, but her skin keeps instahealing and PB is made of literal gum). Getting matching tattoos with the person you plan on spending your life with is a much more grown-up activity. The music also serves as an immediate contrast between the atmospheric quiet of the forest and gentle strumming and singing of Rebecca Sugar, compared to the rock music blasting in the background of Marceline’s antics. The contrast between the future and the past. The contrast between what their relationship used to be like, something that gave Simon’s life structure and hope, and what it is now–still loving, but not something he can model his whole life around.

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK:

Their dynamic has changed. Simon used to be the one keeping Marceline from despair and taking care of her. Now not only is Marceline living her best life with her girlfriend (Simon has neither of those), but Simon’s the one in danger of despair. Simon is used to taking care of Marceline, but they can’t be that way anymore, since Marcy is grown up and took care of him at one point. A good visual metaphor for this is at the beginning clip of Simon and Little Marcy. When they’re running from the oozers, at first, Marcy is behind Simon, and Simon, also running for his life, pants “C’mon” to her. A few seconds later, Marceline is the one in front of Simon, holding his hand and trying to get him to go faster. It’s a real blink-and-you-miss-it detail, but I think this was definitely intentional.

FIONNA AND CAKE AS A METAPHOR FOR MARCELINE AND THE ICE KING:

This feels like a crack theory or overanalyzing, but I still want to mention this. One of the main plot points of Episode 1 “Fionna and Cake” is Cake’s mysterious health issue. Cake is obsessed with the cold, only able to recognize her own name and “food.” Cake runs to open the ice dispenser of Fionna’s fridge and ends up staining Fionna’s work clothes, at which Fionna says, “Stop acting crazy!” This wouldn’t be particularly noticeable, but in “I Remember You,” Marceline says this exact phrase to Simon with the exact same cadence, and shortly after, Simon runs to the fridge, just like Cake just did. Cake is Fionna’s cat, and Fionna tries to take care of Cake and take her to the vet. Which I think again could refer to Marceline taking care of Simon while he was the Ice King (Ice King and Cake not understanding what’s going on, the ice motifs that Simon rejects so vehemently in “Simon Petrikov,” etc.) Which, again, refers to how different their dynamic is today, since Marceline has taken care of Ice King and gained so much independence, so different from what Simon remembers.

PREDICTIONS FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP GOING FORWARD:

It’s hard to imagine all of this is being set up just to be dropped, so this all begs the question, what will their relationship be going forward? What does the series have in mind for their future?

There’s no way Marceline will be happy Simon’s been keeping his problems from her. But she may be able to relate. In “Obsidian,” Marcy tells Princess Bubblegum, “My mom and I didn’t talk about bad stuff. When she got really sick, she didn’t even tell me. She meant well, but I think it messed me up about being honest about my feelings.” We can see this in action, too. She isn’t very communicative in her relationship with Bonnibel before the events of “Obsidian,” she doesn’t talk much about how she’s feeling, and she has a habit of talking about what someone else did rather than how it made her feel. So Simon’s difficulty in honest communication might resonate with her.

Either way, I’m excited to see what the Adventure Time crew is going to come up with for them, especially if Rebecca Sugar is involved!

CONCLUSION:

In conclusion, while the pair are still close, Simon is kind of lost without Marceline to care for and protect every minute of the day. Their relationship dynamic has changed, and, for Simon, the change was very abrupt. He still hasn’t stopped thinking of Marceline as someone he needs to keep feeling positive and calm, and he doesn’t want to tell her about his issues. This can only go one way: angsty. 

Thank you for reading my analysis! My plan is to continue analyzing their relationships as new episodes release, since nothing gets me feeling motivated like new episodes, but I’m also starting up the school year, and it depends on how much Simon and Marcy content we get in the new upcoming episodes, so I can’t make promises. Sorry for the current lack of screenshots, I have an event to go to but when I get back I’ll add some pictures. I hope this at least was some food for the thought. Leave your thoughts about their relationship in the tags, reblogs, or comment section. Also, if this analysis seems all over the place, don’t worry, I’m going back to English class soon, so hopefully things will feel more professional as I brush up on my writing skills.

*I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone to take care of their mental health and talk to loved ones if they’re experiencing mental unwellness. The themes of Fionna and Cake seem to center a lot around misery and depression, so don’t forget that you are not alone, and there is help available.

Hotline Numbers:

Mental Health or Suicide Crisis Hotline: 988 (you can also text with them using this number.)

#my thoughts on the only father/daughter pair in young adult fiction where the dad isn't a deadbeat or straight up dead and #the bad things they've been through isn't his fault. #or i mean i guess there are others but what is WITH young adult fiction's determination with terrible dads? #there's so much more potential in actual father/daughter love and problems outside of their control #adventure time #fionna and cake #simon and marcy #marceline the vampire queen #marceline adventure time #marceline abadeer #simon petrikov #simon adventure time #fionna campbell #cake the cat #analysis #adventure time analysis #fionna and cake analysis

[huntinglove]

Blind Date AU with Simon?

Hi hi!! Thank you so much for the ask!! I got really carried away with this one so it got a bit long, but I hope you'll enjoy it!! :DD

As the wind blew gently outside, Finn and Marceline sat around inside the treehouse, playing videogames on BMO to pass the time. After a silent moment, Marceline peeked over at Finn and spoke calmly.

"Who's that lady you've been hanging out with recently? I've never seen you go to the beach so often, aren't you scared of the ocean?"

Finn thought for a second, before realizing who the vampire was referring to.

"Oh! You mean Ocean Princess? She's kind of like my swim instructor! She's helping me get over that, actually..."

"Oh, cool!"

Silence coated the room once again, allowing the two to play yet another level of their game. Marceline's performance immediately flunked, making Finn curious.

"Are you alright, Marcy? You were kicking my butt just a second ago, but you're goofing up all over!"

The woman let go of her controller as she stuck her tongue out slightly, eyes avoiding Finn's as she thought about her next words.

"Listen... I think Simon has been a bit... Lonely recently. I think it'd do him some good to get back on the dating scene. But every time I bring it up with him he just ignores me!"

Tilting his head in confusion, Finn questioned Marceline.

"And what exactly does that have to do with OP?"

"Listen, you know I keep an eye on you and Jake when I have nothing else going on... I've seen the way she talks, how she acts, she seems fun! I think she would be a cool person to have Simon hang out with, y'know?"

The boy pouted slightly as he thought about the situation, eventually nodding along.

"Do you want me to talk to her about it? She told me she's crazy about romance and all that junk!"

"Nah, I have a different idea... I think we should set her and Simon to meet up instead! Like a blind date!"

"Oh yeah, Jake tried that for me after the stuff with Flame Princess... I met some pretty cool people, maybe it'd work!"

And so their minds were set. It took them days to come up with a good plan, Marceline being assisted by Princess Bubblegum and Finn writing down Jake's advice on a small notepad.

They'd meet up every now and then to discuss their ideas, trashing anything that could go wrong and keeping whatever else they could agree on. It was a complicated situation, it was hard to take Ocean Princess away from the shoreline, just as hard to get Simon out of the house.

Soon enough, they had the perfect plan. Now it was time to make it work.

Finn headed to the beach during the afternoon, being almost immediately greeted by Ocean Princess, sitting on the sand and admiring all the shells she had collected.

"Finn!! How have you been, I haven't seen you in a few weeks... Don't tell me you're giving up on your lessons!"

"No no, that's not it at all Princess! I'm actually having a bit of a... Different problem."

"Hm? What's wrong? I'll help you if I can!"

A knot formed on the boy's throat, nervousness spreading across his body. Finn never really learned how to be a good liar.

"Yeah, um... I've been dealing with something else instead... I'm super totally scared of lakes right now!"

With a squint, the royal approached the boy, watching as he fidgeted with the brim of his shirt. Soon after, Ocean Princess' expression changed into one of worry, placing her hand on Finn's shoulder.

"Oh dear, you're trembling and sweating just talking about it huh? That's okay, I'm sure I can help you with this! Do you know anywhere we can practice?"

"Yeah! I mean... Yeah. There's a lake in the woods, a few minutes away from here."

"Alright! Show me the way!"

And so Finn had concluded his part of the plan, bringing Ocean Princess to the spot Marceline chose for them to meet.

Earlier that day, Marceline was setting her half of the plan as well. She had been pestering Simon about an artifact that Bubblegum needed for an experiment.

"I told her I could do it but it didn't work out when I tried it on my own... Please help me out here!"

With a shake of his head and a tired sigh, Simon decided to entertain the situation. As he looked at Marceline with a raised brow and crossed arms, he questioned:

"And how am I supposed to help, exactly?"

Trying her best to hold back a smug smile, Marceline handed the man a book, written in a language she herself couldn't understand.

Weeks prior, she had asked Bubblegum to sneak into the Ocean Kingdom and take a book from the library, to catch Simon's attention.

"You understand a lot of stuff about magic, mythos and everything, right? Well, I can't make out a single word from this, and it's the incantation that needs to be cited to get the monster to hand over the artifact that PB needs!"

Simon gave her a suspicious look, adjusting his glasses as he ran his fingers through the pages of the book. The feeling of the pages gave him many memories of the days when he used to explore different temples and spend hours researching about his finds.

His eyes shifted down, analyzing the words on the yellowed out pages. With a defeated sigh and a nostalgic smile across his face, the man stuffed the book under his arm and got up, placing a hand on Marceline's shoulder.

"Alright, alright. I think I can help you out. Where do we need to go?"

Unable to hold back her smile, Marceline picked up Simon and began flying with him in her arms, trying her best to keep conversation going about her plan.

Once they arrived at the forest, Marceline lowered both of them close to the ground, allowing Simon to walk around and take in the scenery.

A large lake was what first caught his attention, the whole place was surrounded by tall and dark trees. Next to it, a large fallen log, centering two stumps, held a large basket, overflowing with food.

Trying to keep his composure, Simon walked up to the log "table", gripping the book tightly.

"What's.. All this for?"

Marceline shrugged, floating above the ground.

"An offering, I think monsters are easier to deal with if they're well fed!"

A small gulp could be heard as Simon tried his best to stay calm.

Soon enough,Marceline heard rustling coming from a few trees behind her. Quickly making her way over to Simon, she rushed over her explanation.

"Alright, I'm gonna hide on one of the trees so I can catch the monster once you say the incantation, okay? I'm counting on you!"

Before Simon could answer, the vampire had disappeared. Little did he know, Marceline had picked up Finn and sat him on a branch on one of the trees, talking over their plan as they watched the commotion below.

Ocean Princess continued walking, looking for the boy who ended up scurrying off before she could catch up to him.

"Where are you? Come on, I'm just trying to help!"

Simon froze for a split second, flipping through the pages of the book until he could find the one Marceline had marked out for him.

Soon enough, they caught sight of one another. The man was caught off guard by the sight of the being before him. Body, clothes and hair entirely made out of water, making her necklace, crown and glasses stand out. As he mumbled to himself, his voice came out louder than intended:

"You're... Not as creepy as I had imagined."

Being prepared for this to be some sort of trap, Simon read and re-read the incantation in his head. He remembered the pronounciation as clear as day, but the meaning of the words escaped him.

Meanwhile, Ocean Princess smiled patiently, confused as she calmly spoke.

"Hello! Have you seen a-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Simon read the words out loud, structured like a poem. Soon after, he shut his eyes tightly, putting one of his arms up, waiting for the worse.

After a moment of quietness, the man peeked back at the royal, confused as she simply stood still. Bewilderment clearly adorning her face as she blushed and slowly approached Simon, tears forming in her eyes.

"That was... Beautiful. That's one of the ancient love poems from Atlantis, isn't it?"

As Simon scrambled over his words, flipping the pages of the book to make sure he had read the right thing, Ocean Princess walked over to the table beside him, scanning the contents of the basket.

"You even brought my favorite food! Oh my, I just told one of my friends how I was craving some of these!! You're so sweet, thank you!!"

The woman hugged Simon, causing him to drop the book. Somehow, her body felt warm and soft. It made the man's heart race as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her as well.

A few moments later, they both sat down, as they talked.

"And that's why I'm here! I can't find my friend anywhere though... I really hope he's okay. His name is Finn... Do you know him?"

Realization struck Simon as he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I know him. You have nothing to worry about, he'll be just fine."

A relieved look manifested itself on Ocean Princess' expression. She had never met Marceline before, so she had no idea about what was going on.

Meanwhile, Simon was begining to enjoy his little night out, grabbing things from the basket and setting them between him and the royal, pouring them drinks and getting them played of food.

Conversation flowed naturally between them, laughter and loving looks being shared between them as they spoke about their day and the romance book Simon had brought with him.

High above, on the branch where Finn and Marceline sat and watched, a small high-five could be heard.

#✯ lovely asks #✯ let me tell you a story #❥ the ice king's princess

[discet]

If you dont mind me asking how would the post timeskip trio and the AWIW! trio meeting look like?

So obviously there is some like, more serious future talk, "Hey, Andrias is evil and planning on genocidal conquest, don't trust him" / "theirs an evil hivemind AI in the basement of the castle" and things of that nature, but I'd rather focus on the dynamics.

au!Marcy/ts!Marcy: au!Marcy immediatly commits to growing her hair out seeing how it looks on her future counterpart, ditto on piercing her ears.. They exchange stories and au!Marcy is psyched to hear about the webcomic and they spends a good amount of time reading through it. Cause how often do you get to read something that is literally exactly your taste? On a more serious note when they have some time alone they share their relative traumas from Amphibia, with Andrias's betrayel and Marcy's fight on Toad Tower, and ts!Marcy comforts her younger counterpart about it.

au!Marcy/ts!Anne: at first Marcy is really nervous cause WOW Anne grew up to be even prettier and that's kind of intimidating. However once Marcy opens up about Wartwood and the Plantars the two are just absolutely vibing. Anne loves hearing about how the Plantars are doing in this version of things and thanks Marcy for looking out for being there for Sprig. She is slightly disappointed in Marcy for not pushing Sprivy harder. Definitely gets a little awkward when it comes up that au!Anne and au!Marcy were dating.

au!Marcy/ts!Sasha: Pretty casual at first. Marcy is also nervous with Sasha cause she's a little lesbian disaster, but Sasha pushes past it, employing her experience as a child psychologist to put Marcy at ease. Sasha preemptively apologizes for whatever her counterpart has done on their adventure. As Marcy talks about her happy home life with the Plantars like its a new thing, Sasha starts to key in on Marcy's neglect situation and tries to figure out a way for the two of them to talk about it in more depth later.

au!Anne/ts!Anne: au!Anne is shocked that her older self found a career in the sciences and is inspired by that fact. ts!Anne is shocked by the news that au!Anne figured out her sexuality so much earlier than herself. I think what au!Anne is most concerned with is is a) ts! experienced the same or similar betrayals as au!Anne did and b) how she learned to forgive Marcy and Sasha. c) how she dealt with feeling homesick. ts!Anne gives the best advice she can, obviously sympathetic.

au!Anne/ts!Marcy: Anne is surprised by how confident and cool Marcy is in the future, but overall things are a bit awkward considering they don't have a lot of common ground to work from and with what just went down in Reunion.

au!Anne/ts!Sasha: Anne is surprised by how mellowed out this Sasha is in the future and wonders how things went in Amphibia between ts!Anne and ts!Sasha. Sasha barks a laugh and says it went pretty bad until she hit emotional rock bottom, but that they were able to patch things up alright in the end.

au!Sasha/ts!Sasha: ts! has literally dreamed about this scenario her entire career and sets about trying to help her younger self. It goes about as well as you might expect but she had to try. After that when the topic of Grime comes up ts! is pretty frustrated when its clear no one bonded with the old toad. But hearing what happened to Anne and Marcy respectively can't really blame them. She takes solace that her Grime ended up in a better place.

au!Sasha/ts!Marcy: real fucking wary after her run in with au!Marcy in reunion. Doesn't trust the quirky nerd as far as she can throw them.

au!Sasha/ts!Anne: again, kind of awkward, but Anne is kind of relieved to see a version of Sasha without the scar she gave them.

#awiw

[postingjustwhatever]

I know I’m kinda late regarding that post you made on your AU with Jeff and all but I’ve only recently seen it and I wanted to ask, if Jeff didn’t kill his parents and Mal got to grow as a person, do you think her family would’ve accepted her as she improved herself? Or would it be a ‘too little, too late’ sort of thing? Would Peter have ever forgiven Mal if she changed? Or would they have divorced the second both the boys became independent? Do you think Mal could’ve found something to maybe could’ve at least help Jeff fight off all the nasty stuff that came along with the after effects of having his DNA fused with whatever genetics Slender had?

Speaking of family, how did Mal treat her boys while they were growing up? Was she neglectful and do the barest minimum a mother should do while keeping track on her then test subjects? Or was she just an ‘okay’ parent who was not loving but not neglectful either, but still treated her kids as test test subjects? (I can’t ask if she was a loving parent cause I think we all know the answer to that)

So sorry about not answering this until now. Asks weren't in an obvious place on mobile and I kind of forgot they existed. They're not hard to miss on desktop but I don't check that as often so I didn't see this until now.

I haven't thought about this au for a bit so I kind of forgot some of it, I gonna be drawing some more stuff for it soon though. It's kind of got my intrest again. I really need to flesh it out and change some things.

I think Peter and Mal would have definitely gotten a divorce. Jeff wouldn't talk to her very often. But Lui would likely forgive her at some point, he's very forgiving. Marcy would have forgave her too. even though they have drifted apart over the years, Marcy would pretty much do anything for Mal.

Second question: I don't know, I haven't planned out how all that works exactly.

Mal was kind strict and distant I guess, I also haven't fleshed out all of this either. I don't think she was neglectful except for maybe emotionally. Like she took care of them and everything, she homeschooled them, and kind of raised them by the book. She was just very overbearing and didn't give them much freedom to do things on their own even as they got older because of fear that people from her old job might find them.

Peter was the more attentive parent. He tried to make things as normal as possible for them.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #alternate universe

[ysabellious]

was looking through old thumbnails of an idea for a confrontation about the calamity box at the volcano back in march :’))

clearly it didn’t happen like this lol, but I really liked these bits so I thought I’d share :D

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #will I ever finish this? idk.. maybe I’ll just upload what I have after I clean it up #because I have No idea what me from 2 months ago was going for #but hey !! if you’ve read this far into the tags I’ll give you some context as a prize :D #so my intial idea was uh they finish charging the box at the third temple and they’re all gonna head back to newtopia (like canon HAHA) #but like marcy slinks off with the box when people are settling down to go back #and anne (+ sasha but shhh we don’t know that yet) goes to find her so they can travel back right coz it’s getting dark #but oh nooo Anne catches marcy literally at the edge of a volcano with the box wtf bro!!! not cool!! #she tries to talk marcy out of... whatever she’s planning to do but Marcy’s like ‘hhh sorry anne’ #THEN SHE CHUCKS THE BOX INTO THE VOLCANO HFBDG AND ANNE TRIES TO TACKLE HER TO STOP BUT ITS TOO LATE!! #and here sash shows up!! Idk where to put here before this but she runs out and wow power of strength she dives for it and throws it back #out of the volcano.. she catches herself on the edge of the volcano #Anne and Marcy scramble for the box .. marcy finally wrestles it out of Anne’s hands and holds it up #but woah surprise Sasha’s out of the volcano and she’s got her sword out oooo scary #then that’s where the last pic comes in :D #frankly I have no idea how to end this lmao that’s why I probably won’t finish it until I get another stroke of genius HAHA #ysart #sketches #I don’t think this counts as theory because the ep already happened HAHA

[catholicdaredevil]

Friends to lovers with foggy?? Where the reader thinks he’s in love with Marcy???

i've been thinking about this one for days i'm so excited for it but nervous i'm not gonna do foggy justice but let's see this is if reader went to landman and zack with karen and foggy in season one also this one kinda got away from me and here we are almost a full fic so this is gonna be beyond a keep reading as well this is 1.5k words and a love letter for my boy foggy

foggy bear.

those two simple words and your stomach dropped out of your ass. he hadn't brought that up before, marcy. not like he owed you anything, he was allowed to have private aspects of his life. just because you told him everything didn't mean he had to do the same. whatever moments you'd have imagined must have been just that, imagined.

"foggy bear?" karen broke the silence and foggy blushed a deep red, looking to the floor in embarrassment.

"yeah me and marcy dated in law school, back when she still had a heart." dated. past tense, that was good. except that marcy was beautiful, stunning really, long blonde hair, perfect body. her qualities all things you lacked. or you felt you lacked.

so foggy had a type. it could have been ignored when it was just karen, but with marcy in the picture it was a definite type. blondes and blind assholes. you fit neither box.

so caught up in your head you hadn't noticed the way foggy broke off from karen to stay back, walking in pace with you out into the streets. hadn't noticed until he bumped into you with a small smile. "you okay? real quiet back here."

"oh, yeah uh just thinking. you did a really good job back there," your answering grin felt fake and you hoped he wouldn't be able to notice the way the smile didn't meet your eyes. you had to get over this crush once and for all at the very least for your friendship with the man, if not your sanity.

"yeah? gave her the ol' one two huh, what can i say, i'm a really good lawyer." he elbowed you again, insistent to get a reaction out of you. it worked. you laughed softly and his face lit up, it was genuine and you were thankful. you knew he wouldn't have stopped trying until he got you to laugh, it was just who foggy was.

he cared more than anyone else you'd ever met, that was probably a factor to your crush. he was easily the best person you'd ever met, always there for everyone in his life without a thought for himself. you'd sit in the office and end up staring at him and daydreaming, luckily not getting caught. yet.

unfortunately your good mood dipped, reminded of how pointless your crush was. it wouldn't make a difference, he would only see you as a friend. you would never have the courage to try for any differently, especially not now.

"what's next foggy?" karen called back and foggy frowned at the way you seemed to lose your good mood so quickly, but if you didn't wanna talk he wouldn't push. so he picked up the pace, giving you your privacy, and started planning with karen for the next step.

you listened absently, happy to hear them talk. karen was always onto something, she was so much smarter than she let on and you wouldn't be surprised by anything she might come up with. it took the entire walk through the city back to the office for you to be able to push your feelings down. you thought you were being convincing enough, always forgetting how observant the two others could be.

"hey," foggy reached out and grabbed your arm before you could walk in the front door, pulling you back out into the hallway outside the office. "what's wrong? if you don't want to say that's fine, let me know and i'll leave it alone, but i'm here."

your chest suddenly felt heavy, breathing no longer coming easily. the hitch must have been audible based on the look on foggy's face, nothing but concern etched into his features.

"it's nothing fog, really. just thinking about something," you tried your hardest to brush it off, to brush him off. but all of those feelings you'd spent the entire walk home pushing and shoving down begged to be let out. clawing at your self control, begging to tell foggy what it really was. maybe he'd understand, it was foggy after all.

"it's not nothing, if it's bugging you this much it's not nothing." the certainty dripped from each word, him taking so seriously whatever could possibly be wrong with you. "is this about marcy?"

fuck him. fuck his observant ass, fuck the way he knew you better than you knew yourself. fuck yourself for being too easy to read.

"why would it be about marcy?" you choked out, great that was believable. you couldn't even look at him, the shame burning across your skin.

"oh i don't know, maybe because you were in a good mood before marcy and now you're not?" how did he make it so easy, he made everything so easy. talking to him like breathing, it just felt natural for you to tell him everything. you wanted to tell him, so bad. too bad.

"it's nothing, it's fine," maybe if you said it enough times you could convince him and yourself. then again maybe not if the knot in your stomach was anything to go on, just this small of a lie to him making you feel sick.

"if you don't wanna tell me just say that, instead of lying." his tone shifted to annoyed, and the churning in your stomach picked up since apparently it could get worse.

"it's not- i don't- i'm-," shit. "i'm not lying, er- i'm not trying to lie to you foggy i just- it's not fair, you don't want to know trust me."

a groan tore from his throat and he scrubbed at his face, the sudden increase in stress radiating off him in waves. "but i do want to know, and don't i get to decide."

being matt's best friend for the past ten years at least, meant foggy was stubborn. too damn stubborn.

"it's you! you're the issue! or me? i'm the issue! we're the issue!" you couldn't understand where the words were coming from, spilling out of you before you could stop them. "i'm just in love with you okay? i'm in love with you, and it's killing me. because i'm not your type or whatever- not that you'd ever say that. no you're too nice to let me down. so instead i just get to watch you and wish to god that in some world you watch me back."

the outburst wound down until you were barely whispering, the fight gone as soon as it came.

"it's just not this world, and that sucks, and it's my fault. i need to get over it, over you."

the weight on your shoulders lifted, your entire body thankful for expelling the secret that had been tying you down for months. always one step away from dragging you under. it was over, at least now he knew. the silence stretched, and when it stretched beyond what you could take, you finally looked up to see him.

he looked crazy, somehow. eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed as he struggled to piece together the puzzle you'd just thrown at his feet. waiting expectantly, your feet frozen to the spot, you couldn't leave now. not until you knew, knew whatever it was he was gonna say.

"i'm sorry, wait, why am i apologizing? what do you mean, you're 'not my type'?" when he finally spoke it was low, he sounded hurt almost and it was all your fault. but this wasn't the point you expected him to make, the aspect of your speech you thought he'd get hung up on.

"i mean that i'm not someone you'd go for. i'm not pretty, not like karen or marcy. or blonde because apparently that's a recurring theme, i'm just-" large warm hands grabbed the sides of your face as foggy slammed his mouth into yours. time felt like it slowed down, like you were moving through honey as you reached out to wind your own arms around his neck, kissed him back with fervor.

foggy kissed like you were in a movie. like the music was swelling, like your foot was popping, the audience cheering, like your whole lives had been leading up to this moment. this kiss. it was dizzying being on the receiving end of that kind of passion.

"that's the stupidest thing i've ever heard, and i hang out with matt. regularly." he spoke between kisses, his hands never wavering from their position, framing your face. you couldn't help but laugh at his words.

that was foggy, he was always so good at this. at breaking the tension, making you laugh when you'd been on the verge of crying. "it can't, can't possibly be the stupidest thing you've ever heard."

"it is!" foggy insisted, one hand traveling down the side of you until it wrapped around your waist. "the fact that you think i haven't been watching you too. that i wasn't so annoyingly head over heels for you that everyone but you saw."

"are you guys finished out there? we still have a case to win." karen called from her desk inside the office, your cheeks flooded with head and foggy laughed. he leaned back in to kiss you again, pressing all of the love he'd built up and held onto into it.

"go to dinner with me." his eyes met yours and the child-like joy he expressed made you feel lightheaded. "please? say yes."

"yes, obviously yes!" foggy pumped his fist, and cheered. you laughed and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder and he pulled you into the tightest hug imaginable.

#foggy nelson #foggy nelson x reader #karen page #karen page x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #franklin 'foggy' nelson #he's the sweetest and the greatest #and i love him with every fiber of my being #he would be the best boyfriend ever #and husband #mine specifically #and matts to be honest #ezra answers #ezra writes

[waybrights]

Okay okay okay I wish you would write another scene for the Runaway au. It can be angst or fluff or whatever but more Sasha and Marcy please :)

hehehe giving me the choice between angst and fluff could only result in hurt w a sprinkle of comfort at the end <333 anyways!!! runaways au my beloved!!! (also once again this is unedited but i rlly enjoyed writing this so i dont think there are a ton of mistakes hehe)

stupid. they were so, so, fucking stupid.

sasha didn't even know why she agreed, it had seemed like such a great idea at the time, standing next to the swing set, their swing set, marcy's shaking hands in hers, words tumbling out, a promise of safety and freedom if they just followed her plan, it had been everything sasha had ever wished for. she should've known it would go wrong as soon as she squeezed marcy's hand, nodding and giggling as they raced to their houses, only to find each other not even ten minutes later with bags slung over their shoulders, emptied of their textbooks and pens, now full of money and spare clothes.

running away had always been sasha's plan, whether it would happen when she was thirteen or twenty, she was going to run, run from her parents, from school, from everyone in church, their looks of poorly disguised disgust burning the back of her neck as she stood, hands clasps together, praying, just praying to feel normal, for once, whatever her reason, her excuse, it was her plan.

oh it all seemed to immature now.

now that marcy was sick (riddled with a fever and dizziness that meant she couldn't stand by herself) and they had nowhere to go, having to sit in the cold alley, hiding behind trash cans and stray shopping carts, all she wanted was to do what they used to, run over to anne's house and sleep over, lies pouring out of the pair just so they could stay for an extra day. but she couldn't, anne was all the way in california, over 500 miles away, whilst sasha was curled in a dingy alley, marcy's head in her lap as she tried to get her friends fever down.

it was almost comedic, how she'd gone from having a perfect life, a house and a life, to hiding behind a shitty food chain, clinging to marcy and wearing clothes she hadn't taken off in a week. a tiny laugh bubbled out of her at the thought, oh how her parents would love this, the movement of her stomach causing marcy to whimper, tightening her hold on sasha's sweater. the smile slipped off sasha's face and she placed the back of her hand to her friend's sweaty forehead, trying to keep the worry off her face as she felt the heat radiating off her.

"we have to get help soon, marbles," sasha whispered, her voice hoarse with disuse and lack of water. "we can't stay here."

marcy shifted again, blinking her eyes open and turning her head to look up at sasha. her brown eyes were glossy, but the fear was written clear as day. "no, no we can't," she replied, her words slow, "we don' have money, an' they'll jus' send us home."

sasha shook her head, bending down to press her forehead to marcy's. "you're hurt, i can't just let you stay like this," she mumbled, a lump catching in her throat. "mars you're only getting worse, you need help-"

"call anne," marcy hummed, sounding firmer than she had in a while. "or her parents, jus'... jus' no hospital..."

"are you sure? we're so far-"

"yeah," marcy nodded, the movement more of a jerk than a smooth nod. "i miss her," she added, a tiny smile appearing on her face, her eyes growing even more distant as she was sucked into a memory sasha would never know. (she tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her heart at that, of course marcy would miss anne, even after she let them go by this with out her, she just let them leave, even after all that marcy would always, always, miss anne more.)

"okay," sasha mumbled, her hands fumbling blindly for the shitty burner they'd bought a few days prior. "okay but, you have to stay awake, yeah? so you can talk to her."

"oh yeah, yeah i'll..." a shuddering breath, "i'll stay awake."

"cool," sasha replied, her attention only half on the number she was dialing - maybe if this was another time, she would be embarrassed she knew anne's number off by heart, but she didn't have time to be embarrassed, not when marcy was getting worse.

the plastic was cold against sasha's cheek, a sharp contrast to the heat on her torso and other hand, yet she couldn't even focus on that, not when the phone was ringing, once... twice... three times, with no answer. maybe anne was smart, and decided it was best to not pick up a call from a random number, after all it could always be a scam (she felt like a scam as she sat there, hair falling in matted clumps over her face and only just holding in her cries of despair).

by the fifth ring, sasha had all but given up. just as she was about to pull the phone away from her face, the ringing stopped and sasha's heart wasn't far behind. "hello?" anne's voice crackled through the phone's shitty speaker. "is anyone there?"

sasha gulped, slowly bringing the phone back to her ear, her eyes stinging as anne's voice reverberated through her head. "hellooo?" she called again and sasha could just see her face. the way her nose would wrinkle whenever one of those spam calls would come through, the roll of her eyes when someone would ask about her cars extended warranty, how a hand would come up to push her bangs out her face in annoyance. "look, i'm really sorry but i think you might have the wrong numbe-"

"annie?" sasha choked out, the name clawing out of her like a monster that had been kept in it's cage for too long.

"... sasha?" anne asked, her voice quiet, gentle, like she was talking to a feral animal. (and maybe she was.)

biting her lip to hold in her sobs, sasha took a deep breath, trying to gather her scrambled thoughts. it didn't help that marcy was weakly tapping her thigh, humming along, a song sasha vaguely recognised starting to float through the alley.

"sasha? sash is that you?"

"annie? we need help-"

#hehe i wrote this listening to marina so i got deep in the sasha feels for a sec sahsdkdhakd #anyway ibby!! sorry this is sad ahkdhkd if u want some fluff i can also do that for you!!! #hope you enjoy <33 #runaways au #amphibia fanfic #amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #marie writes #skibs scribbles #you ask i answer #marie.txt

[mythicandco]

No one asked me to write this but fuck it I’m writing it anyways

Tendrils of blue still clinging to her hair, Anne’s eyes darted from where her friends were fighting to the now-revealed staircase into the dark. 

“Find Sasha and Marcy!” Yunan yelled, swiping at a toad robot and slicing it cleanly in half. Toadbot? Automatoad? “We can’t hold them off for much longer!” 

But Anne couldn’t move. Her lungs stopped working, and everything blurred for a few moments. Then she was running - down the steps, almost tripping over herself, her hair glowing more than it was before to illuminate the way. 

She stopped, panting for breath, at the bottom of the staircase. She could hear her own heart hammering in her chest, pounding through her brain, making everything spin. It was dark, even with a blue glow surrounding her. 

Blue light meets pink and Anne picks up the small piece of coral-shaped rock Sasha used... back before they knew about Andrias’ plans, or Marcy’s secrets, or anything, really. It made her guitar louder, if Anne remembers correctly.

It’s no big deal, yeah, no big deal~!

It’s almost a laughable memory, except it’s Anne’s last pleasant one involving her gir friends. 

(That was a typo. “G” and “F” are very close to each other on the keyboard, and I mixed up the “R” and the “I” in “friends”.)

That’s when she hears the sobs. 

A nondescript lump on the floor, wrapped in a tattered, dark red cloak. Her blonde hair has been messily cut to more than half it’s length, and a green hair pin is clearly visible even though her face isn’t. 

“...Sasha?” 

Anne takes a step forward, suddenly aware of how loud her footsteps are. She’s... never seen Sasha cry like this before. 

“I can’t do anything, Anne.” It’s mixed with tears, and her voice sounds so hoarse, so dry, like she’s been screaming yelling at something. “I’m absolutely useless.” 

The girl was suddenly aware of how cold the room was, the clamminess clinging to her skin like cobwebs, the smooth, frigidness of the floor she could feel even through her sneakers. Sasha looked up at her, bleeding from her nose and the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was red. She’d been crying for a while. 

“Sasha, what happened?” Anne’s voice was louder than she thought it’d be. She inhaled and tried again, quieter this time. “Where’s Marcy?” 

A bitter, dry laugh escaped Sasha’s throat, tears brimming in her eyes again. They seemed to flicker reddish-pink for a second, but Anne realized it was just the rock-coral guitar thing she was holding in her hand. It was warm, and rough, but also weirdly smooth where the edges cut clearly into little geometric angles in her palm. She squeezed it tightly, aware of her knuckles turning white. Anne’s ears started ringing and her heartbeat increased. 

“She’s gone. It’s hopeless,” the blonde somehow sank lower to the floor without straight-up laying down and pressing her face into it. She looked just about ready to dig herself a hole and never come out, with her hair a mess and the gleam in her eyes a desperate hysteria. 

And then Anne is aware of how everything smells - like burnt flesh, and blood, and salt, and... mint-chocolate chip ice cream? 

A dim orange glow appears behind Sasha. The blonde either doesn’t notice or has given up and doesn’t care. Interweaving wires and tubes appear around the walls of the room, and Anne’s stomach flips upside down. She’s pretty sure her lungs stop working again, too. 

The glow intensifies, and finally the silhouette of someone appears, sitting on a throne with tubes connected to it like puppet strings to a lifeless doll. Anne freezes, the chill of the room reaching her bones. She can’t move. 

For real this time. 

Eyes - too many eyes, TOO MANY EYES - open, one after the other, only serving to make the silhouette more defined. It’s face is illuminated just enough to make out human features - however everything above it’s mouth is covered in a shiny, dome-like helmet. 

No. 

No. 

No. 

NO.

Anne finally understands why Sasha - the bravest, strongest, most ruthless, apathetic person she knows - is a sobbing mess on the floor. 

“So you’re the Heart. Marcy had such fond memories of you.” 

And then there are more eyes, but these are in the wrong place because Marcy doesn’t have that many eyes and they were never that color but

THIS ISN’T MARCY ANYMORE.

Anne chokes on whatever she was going to say. Green flashes in her vision, and then blue. Blue, the color of sadness and the hottest of fires. Blue, the only color Anne can feel. 

There’s a shout, which is probably Sasha, but all Anne can see are those glowing orange eyes and that smile that doesn’t belong here, it belongs back home where they were all safe and in love, a smile that should never in a million years be attached to this thing that isn’t Marcy. 

“Go ahead.”

Something slams into her, and Anne and Sasha go sprawling across the floor. 

“What are you doing?” the blonde screams right in Anne’s ear, and she winces. A laugh that isn’t either of the girl’s (but sounds just a bit too familiar) booms across the space. 

“Cute, but really. Neither of you would let the other harm this precious human body.”

Anne looks into Sasha’s wide eyes and knows that’s true. She stands up and wobbly legs, and reaches out to help the other girl to her feet. Sasha stares up at her, but accepts the help. 

“What did you do to her?” Anne says, her voice sounding a lot closer to tears than she thought it would. There are wet lines on her face - when did she start crying? 

When did she stop crying?

“Exactly what it’s intended purpose was. Andrias was, admittedly... more excited and caught in the heat of the moment than he should’ve been, but this vessel has been far more useful than anticipated.” 

It’s Sasha’s turn to shout. “Give her back!” 

Anne hears the echo of her own words in her friend’s voice more than she hears just how hollow Sasha sounds, like she’s just talking normally with the volume turned way up. 

The thing inside of Marcy tilts it’s head at the girls, the cheeky smile gone in an instant. 

“I’ve waited for this for hundreds of thousands of years. I’m certainly not going to give it up just because you want me to.” 

Anne feels blue again, and this time is too fast for Sasha to stop her. A loud crack breaks the stifling, suffocating cold of the room and the orange eyes stop glowing. 

The room goes dark. A heartbeat passes. 

A scream - if that’s even the right word to describe it - goes off, and the whole room shakes. Anne swears she’s bleeding from her ears as she claps her hands over them in an ultimately useless attempt to block out the sound of a million smoke detectors going off and a thousand microwaves exploding. 

As soon as it starts, it stops. Sasha lets out a groan, and Anne’s hands curl into fists against the ground. When did she crumple to the floor? 

The room is one again illuminated only by Anne’s receding blue flames and the partially-crushed rock-coral in her hand. 

“Anne...” 

It’s not Sasha’s voice. 

The helmet is cracked, and it’s wearer is bleeding from a gash above their eye. Anne can’t really see anything from her angle, but it’s forcing Marcy to keep one of their eyes closed in order to prevent the blood from pouring into it. 

Anne hopes beyond hope, and fears beyond fear. Her voice is small, so quiet she can barely hear it in the dead silent room. 

“...Marcy?” 

#amphibia #no one asked for this but I wanted to write something before I go to sleep #marcy wu #the night amphibia #possessed marcy wu #angst #amphibia angst #amphibia fanfiction #fanfiction #alternate universe #amphibia au #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #general yunan #I'm sleep deprived blame the grammatical errors on my half-dead state #probably gonna get a part two but now that I say it probably not #I hope andrias dies in a fucking pit #andrias is a fucking asshole #pAin

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #asks #Anonymous #fanfic #this took weeks to write here ya go

[sonofrose]

The Third Temple.

Third Temple Clear!

Well ladies, gentlemen and wonderful kaleidoscope in-between and outside those labels, it is done.

With this the Temple Quest is officially over, and there is no reason to come back to any of the temples.

NO

REASON

AT ALL!

Anyway and most importantly the gang’s all back together!

But before I talk about that I wanna mention something else.

Seeing the temple tests I finally realized that their designed especifically for amphibians, not only those of the third temple but those of the first two too.

this actually explains why the girls seem to breeze through them so easily for something that is supposed to be death defiying. I might go into more detail another time.

Also did you realize the lesson of this temple is the complete opposite of the first one?

The final test of the First (Wit) Temple is knowing when to quit, and the last test of the Third (strenght) Temple is to be persistent. Add the Second (Heart) Temple whose main lesson is responsability and you get a clear balance metaphor.

Going back to the girls, lets just get this out of the way:

The dominoes are starting to fall.

On one side we got whatever King Andrias has Marcy up to. 

On the other the Toad Rebellion is playing the long game to enter Newtopia.

And in between are the girls, all set to clash and show their “True Colors”. (sorry I had to)

Lastly, and admitedly the thing we’re all focusing on, let’s look at Sasha this episode.

To begin with we get the moment the girls met, and I’d like to point out that it seemed Sasha help them just because, once she “saved” Anne and Marcy she was just going to go her merry way.

Another thing of note is that even as a little girl Sasha has always been determined.

Even to her detriment.

But as cute as that is, the thing we’re all focused on is this:

And you know... I don’t buy it.

Yes she is using them, I won’t deny that, but from personal experience I can tell you that the best lies... are those build on truths.

Despite what Anne said about it not being just what happened in Toad Tower, it ALWAYS comes back to that incident, and it always will. Because that’s when everything came to light.

Because it was the moment that forced her to face the reality of what she was doing to her friends, because as much as she tries, she cannot deny what she did, because:

SHE KNOWS

Sasha knows what she has done, and no matter what happens she always will, She cares too much about her friends to deny it forever, even if it will be hard for her to admit it.

Look at that, that’s after being angry that Anne did not believe in her, yet as soon as she is told otherwise Sasha is in disbelief, because even she has to admit, if subconciously, that Anne’s not wrong.

She may have called everything she did in the temple an act, but it was one build on her true feelings.

Grime himself realizes it, that’s why he asks her if she remember the plan, and he might have a reason to worry about the plan.

Because this Head Toad has a heart.

Only two more things to say:

I’m a little worried about Marcy’s “live the fantasy a little” comment in “Bessie and MicroAngelo”

and

WE’VE TAKEN ANOTHER STEP TOWARDS THE CALAMITY

#amphibia #amphibia season 2 #the third temple #amphibia anne #amphibia sasha #amphibia marcy #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #captain grime #the strenght temple #strenght temple

[mira-blue]

Long Post Containing Amphibia Spoilers Ahead!

*cracks knuckles* alright i've been debating whether or not i should post this but seeing as i've already got it all planned out in my head - why not, you know?

anyways i've seen lots of people debate what will happen in The Dinner/Battle of The Bands and they've all been awesome theories, so i've been thinking about how True Colors - a.k.a. the season finale - will go down.

friendly reminder that this 'theory' is for fun and speculation only and is probably completely wrong :]

alright, so as others have said, the two episodes before this one will most likely be about the girls slowly beginning to fix their friendship and realizing how much they missed each other - probably a mixture of fluff and a bit of angst because sasha and marcy are hiding things from anne.

moving on to True Colors, we'll start off back in newtopia, maybe in the castle. goodbyes are being said, preparations are being made, no one can actually believe that the trio is actually going home after so long.

the king insists that only the three girls stay in the throne room when the box is about to be opened, claiming something like'We don't want anyone accidently being sent back with them'. this forces the plantars (and possibly grime if he'd accompanied them to this point) to leave. grime - of course - would be glad to be out of his sight and immediately heads off to help the toad army enter newtopia.

once the girls are alone, the king begins to talk about the music box a little, revealing some key things, but nothing too major (yet). this eventually leads to him bringing up his propostion to marcy.

now, that's the one thing i can't make a solid guess on. because it doesn't seem likely at all that marcy would intentionally do something to hurt her friends. however, she has unintentionally done so before, so it wouldn't be surprising if it happens again. i doubt it's anything that will prevent sasha and anne from going home - the most likely theory i've seen floating around is the one where she admits that she doesn't want to go home.

whatever marcy's plans are, they throw anne and sasha in for a loop. especially anne, who at this point is sick of people hiding things from her.

an arguement ensues, sasha's more conflicted than ever, the king is omniously standing in the background with the music box - basically, the vibes are completely off.

and sasha realizes that. she doesn't trust the king (she is literally bringing an army to his doorstep) and she knows he's manipulating marcy (*cough* because she's an expert at it *cough*). so she confronts him, demanding he reveal his plans.

does he? i don't know. on one hand, we need a common enemy for the girls to unite against. on the other, there's still an entire season left and too much is happening.

either ways, before things escalate even more, BOOM

a guard bursts in, yelling about how there's a frogging toad army invading the city right now and they were let in from the inside!!

(cue sasha thinking 'oh no, i forgot about that')

anne connects the dots together. toads? let in from the inside? sasha not seeming too surprised?

oh would you look at that, another betrayal!

this is a lot for anne. i feel like if marcy and sasha turn out to be lying to her, it'll be a breaking point for her.

she doesn't even know what to say, just sort of glares at sasha and goes 'Seriously?' sasha tries to explain (the king is up to no good anyways, anne!) but anne doesn't want to hear it. she leaves the throne room, running to find her frog family and the one friend who hasn't hurt her yet - sprig.

so now, marcy and sasha are left behind with the king (and honestly, who can blame anne for having enough?)

now throughout all of this, king andrias has been strangely calm. he doesn't seem to be worried at all about the toads invading his city.

and you know why that is? because he's prepared.

i mean, that sort of proves that he's been aware of an incoming invasion this whole time, right? and we know that he's got some pretty messed up stuff in his basement, too. so what if, when the toads attack, he releases Something to fight them?

i doubt it'll be the Night (or whatever that 13 eyed creature is), but something horrifying enough. this further cements sasha's belief that he Cannot Be Trusted and she turns to marcy, exclaiming 'You've been working for THIS GUY?'

but, of course, she can't blame marcy - the king's facade would've had us completely convinced if we didn't get to see what went on behind the scenes.

the king decides he's had enough of sasha and orders the guards to capture her. she fights back, but slowly gets overwhelmed.

so marcy throws the game.

she rushes in to help sasha, but before that, she grabs the music box. this could go two ways - one, she throws it on the floor and shatters it, allowing its powers to return to the girls or two, she gives it to sasha and yells at her to run.

and sasha - for the first time in her life - realizes that she has no other choice but to run.

she does look back, though, just in time to see the guards arresting marcy.

outside, it's complete chaos. the toads were bad enough on their own, but whatever the king released to oppose them made matters worse. the city is - literally and figuratively - on fire.

i like to think that anne finds the plantars and is about to escape with them, when sasha stumbles into them.

she tries to talk to anne, but anne in no way trusts her - might never trust her again. she tries surrendering, tries to explain that the king's got marcy and they're all in danger, but she can't get through to anne.

nowwww i know a lot of fans want sasha to join anne and the plantars by the end of this season - and maybe she will, and it'd be dope! - but in my version of things...

they get seperated again.

i don't know how that'll happen, if it'll be done willingly or not, but having the girls end up seperated again (therefore back into square one) would be a pretty cool scenario.

anyways, they get seperated, anne heads off with the plantars, and sasha runs into grime. they fight side by side but grime knows there's no way they'll make it, so he puts sasha out of harm's way by forcing her out of newtopia - another friend telling her to run.

then he dies /JJJJJ

nah, but i think it's more likely he surrenders and gets arrested. he could still die, though...

cut back to marcy. she's been arrested and is currently in the throne room. the king is there, and he says something about how disappointing her actions were, then tells the guards to take her away.

of course, there's a lot more in the background. will we find out what the ruins of despair (the place frobo came from) were? will we learn more about The Portrait? will the prophecy be revealed?

don't really have an answer to any of those ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but this all sets the stage for season three - anne & the plantars in hiding (maybe in the very same cave she used when she first arrived in amphibia), sasha on the run (Sasha Alone episode, anyone?), and marcy imprisoned in the castle (possibly alongside grime).

it all really depends on how next week's episodes go, and i can't wait to see that! if you've stuck around this far, thanks for reading!

#amphibia #amphibia spoilers #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #amphibia season 2 #true colors #amphibia theory #analysis #hop pop plantar #sprig plantar #polly plantar #repost because of some technical issues

[justaself-shipper]

Idk Love- Marcanne

A/N: This is inspired by a lil comic thingy I did

Also spoilers for True Colours Anne wrapped an arm around Marcy’s shoulder, admiring the sunset view. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” Anne said, a soft smile on her face. Marcy glanced at Anne, her hair glowing in the sunlight. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and Marcy couldn’t help but feel a blush grow. “Yeah…” she mumbled quietly. Realising she’d been staring for too long, she turned away, her face turning an even darker shade of red. “I can’t believe we’re gonna go home tomorrow.” She said, returning her gaze to the setting sun. Anne hummed in response, the smile never leaving her face.

“Marcy! Hurry!” Anne screamed, standing in the portal as she waited for her friend. Marcy glanced up at her. “I just need to-“ She was cut off when she felt something stab through her chest, the pain overwhelming her for a moment as she stood in shock. Looking down, her eyes widened at the sight of a fiery sword. “Now look what you made me do.” The king muttered, withdrawing his sword. Marcy heard Anne call her name, but it sounded muffled as everything around her started to darken. “I…I’m sorry….for everything…” she mumbled, collapsing to the ground. The box broke, sending Anne and the Plantars back to earth. Everything was dark, blurry, and horrible. She could feel herself floating in a watery substance, yet she couldn’t bring herself to move. To escape. Eyes closed, she took in a deep breath through her mask, listening to the bubbles as she exhaled once again. The human could vaguely hear King Andrias talking to someone, their voice echoey and distorted. Her mind flashed to Anne, the look of utter betrayal in her eyes as Marcy desperately tried to explain her reason to dragging them all to Amphibia. She deserved it, didn’t she? This was what she deserved for bringing pain to the one she loved. “Mar-mar! No!” Anne giggled as she chased after a hyperactive Marcy. “Give me back my phone!” The frizzy-haired teen finally caught up to her, tackling her in a hug as they fell to the ground, laughing and giggling hysterically. Anne lay onto of Marcy, arms wrapped around her waist as Marcy lay on her back. Marcy caught her breath. “Okay, okay, you win.” She chuckled, handing Anne her phone. Anne took it, glancing at her with a smirk on her face. Without any warning, she leaned down and gave Marcy a peck on the lips, before she got up. Marcy’s cheeks began to glow, laying there for a moment longer before getting up. “You look so adorable like that, Mar-mar.” Anne stated, running off before Marcy could catch her. “H-hey! That’s not fair!” She cried, following Anne back inside the house. Marcy took another breath, listening to King Andrias. He was right beside her tank, talking to someone she couldn’t see. “The plan is almost finished, master. Now all we need to do is transfer your soul into the vessel.” Marcy took a moment to think. Vessel? Master? Who exactly was he talking to? The person seemed to have answered, but all Marcy could hear was an echoey hiss. Marcy awoke to someone inserting a needle into her arm. Eyes snapping open, she realised she was out of her tank, lying on a table. Arms and legs were bound down, she moved her head to find a hooded figure holding a syringe, the orange, glowing liquid still visible. Panicking, she thrashed around, breathing heavily when she felt something growing stronger in her mind, slowly taking over. Shutting her eyes tightly, she internally begged for this nightmare to end, for whatever this entity was to go away. Marcy dared open her eyes. She was no longer on the table, but in a white, empty void. Looking around, she realised there was a screen in front of her. They were tinted red, and through them she recognised the room she was in just a few minutes before. The screen began to move, turning to look at King Andrias, whom Marcy hadn’t realised was standing in the corner of the room. He stepped forward, as whatever was controlling her body sat up, now being able to move.

“Welcome back, master.” It had been several weeks since her body was taken over by the “Night”. And Marcy hated every second of it. The entity that had taken over her mind would sneer at her, call her weak and pathetic. Marcy never dared fight back, knowing this was karma for hurting Anne. Now, they were about to enter the portal back to earth. Marcy’s eyes widened in horror as the frog-bots entered first, gut wrenching as the terrified screams of the citizens filled the air on the other side. Strolling along the destroyed streets, Marcy watched as the frog-bots blasted buildings, the people inside barely making it out. All of a sudden, a blue blur attacked the bots, annihilating them in seconds. Marcy’s eyes widened as the cyan blue-haired person had her back to her, the familiar leaves floating within the fiery hair. The Night had a huge grin on his face, as a terrible plan began to form in his mind. He knew this person was important to her. When the person turned around, her eyes widened. “Marcy?” Marcy watched in horror as Anne’s smile brightened, tears of joy falling from her eyes as she began to walk toward her. “Marcy! You’re alive!” “You do realise that she’ll be in the way, don’t you Marcy?” Her eyes widened in horror, as Marcy realised what he was planning. “No…please! Don’t hurt her! Hurt me as much as you want, just don’t touch her!” She begged. The Night chuckled, watching intently as Anne stepped forward, arms outstretched. Marcy watched, helplessly, as the Night held a knife behind his back.

#idk love #marcanne #marcy x anne #marcy x reader #anne boonchuy #true colours spoilers #amphibia #freshie txt #freshie writes #true colours

[jaekaicx]

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

#JEEZ THAT WAS LONG YIKES #but uh yeah thats my amphibia fangame idea #i came up with this in the shower #not joking #its been stewing in the back of my mind for at least a week #but i finally put the main jist of it in a tumblr post :D #ive got a whole notes page for the outline(?) #still trying to figure out the flash backs bit of it #but im glad this actually has some sort of structure #idk i just wanted to put this idea out there #see what y’all think?? #hopefully i’ll try to make it a thing #idk tho #we’ll have to just wait and see ig #amphibia #jace rambles #long post #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #just realized i still havent thought of a name yet :/ oh well #amphibia spoilers #amphibia au #?? #amphibia fangame #saving this

[fan-art-ic]

Don't Stop Here

She's back. Anne is really back on Earth. She can hardly believe it.

(Picks up immediately after the episode ends) (ao3 link in reblog)

Anne can hardly believe it. Cars honked around her and every breath is heavy with unnatural smog. She meets eyes with a human stranger, who lifts a phone very quickly and stares bug-eyed at her. Not at her, no, at her family. She turns to Hop-pop, Sprig, and Polly, all scratched, bruised, tired, afraid, and looking at her with trust in their eyes. Hop-pop croaks and coughs and Anne notices her frog family's skin is graying. She has to get them out of here. Off the hood of the car, over five lanes of traffic, hopped over the guardrail, down the hill, through a sparse copse of trees, to the sidewalk under the bridge and-

"Anne?" A pink hand tugs on her wrist. "Anne, stop. Please." Her feet stumble to a stop and her socked foot lands on something sharp and cutting and she gasps.

"Anne!"

Two sets of hands catch her torso, and she faintly feels a wet touch pulling at her ankle. Her family carefully let her down, so she lands heavily on her butt instead of her nose. Anne's next breath is a punch of air and her lungs brighten with pain as she loses control of her inhales and exhales. Her eyes hurt and burn. When she wipes a dirty hand across her face, she winces as hot tears and snot sting her injuries. A light weight settles onto her back and rubs in a circular motion. Anne clings to the sensation. Between sputtering breaths, she begins to hear. "-in...and out...in...and out," Hop-pop's soothing, raspy voice repeats and then she can hear Sprig humming. It's a song Wally wrote about a silly snail getting lost and he had sung it at her Frog of the Year party. A laugh bubbles up into a sob and Anne reaches out her arms to pull all three of them close.

"I love you guys," she chokes out, and Polly pats her cheek.

"We love you too, Anne," says the polliwog, normally so energetic now wrung out and too bright-eyed. She needs to pull herself together. Anne releases her grip and her family takes a step back. She runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head, dust and dirt and surprisingly long twigs falling to the broken concrete.

"Alright, froggy fam," she begins, "I'm going to take you to meet my human fam." Sprig whoops, but he's clearly flagging.

"Yay!..."

Anne grimaces and looks at Hop-pop. The old, orange frog meets her gaze steadily, but she can tell how much he is missing his cane. "Hop-pop, you got Polly, I got Sprig?" He nods. "Alright. Let's make our way to the highway, follow along till we hit an exit, follow that till we hit town, figure out where we are, call my parents. Sound good?" No one protests and Anne helps Sprig up to her shoulder as Hop-pop collects Polly.

.

They're maybe ten minutes into their walk, and every step is a jolt to her nervous system. Her skin feels prickly, her jaw too tight, her muscles ache like never before. The pressure of her Newtopian breastplate, once reassuring, weighs her every step like a lodestone.  The heron-leather straps pinch at the underside of her arms. Sprig's cool, damp skin is refreshing against the back of her neck, but it's not slimy enough and it concerns Anne. She bites her lip and tries to time her steps so that her sneaker hits the rocks and roots, while her socked-foot hits bare earth. She isn't always successful, and everything is starting to throb. Her temples pulse loudly in her head and her knees are weak and her mouth is parched.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Polly..." Hop-pop murmurs behind her. She can't see him, but she hears the dragging footsteps crunch the dry grass and the low comfortings of the grandfather to the polliwog. A stabbing pain shoots through her chest, and Anne forces her legs into a march. Focuses on the act of raising her thigh, swinging her calf forward, shifting her weight, repeat ad infinitum.

In seventh grade health class, there had been only one day dedicated to 'mental health issues' and something mentioned was meditative breathing. In multiple P.E. classes, Anne heard the teachers talk about making sure to breath while exercising. One, two, three. In. One, two, three. Out. Anne can do this.

.

The clouds parted a bit as they walked and the sun is nearly blinding Anne, as she squints at the sign. DALY STREET EXIT, it read in giant white text on green. Okay, so now they can get out of the weird in-between highway area they've been hiking. She points at it. "This way."

Something is mumbled behind her back.

"Huh?" She stops to turn and looks at Hop-pop. "What's up?" The elderly frog's face is twisted in a very non-confidence inspiring way.

"Well...Anne, I can't help but notice you don't have your backpack. Or...or your phone. So-" All Anne could hear was a piercing, ringing sound. Her hands clenched and unclenched.

"Right," says Anne, interrupting whatever the old frog had been saying. "Right. I don't have my backpack or phone." She blinks rapidly and Hop-pop's brow furrows deeper grooves. Her fingernails dig grooves of equal depth into her palms. "Okay, so," she claps her hands and ignores Sprig and Polly startle, "we will keep going. We will find someone kind and nice who will be willing to call my parents. End of plan."

"Great plan," Sprig yawns in her ear, and she can't help the yawn in return. It stretches her neck muscles and she yawns again for good measure. Polly yawns, then Hop-pop, then her and Polly at the same time. They all smile and the moment of brevity gets the family going again, the plan -no matter how little Anne believes in it herself- solidly in mind and the goal spurring them on. Not too much further now.

.

The sign for 7-11 flickers and there is a closed down Redbox sitting stoutly next to a ash-tray/trash can. The ad in the window advertises Berry Glam Blitz Bomb and a two for four hotdogs sale. Her stomach rumbles.

Her family is crowded together outside the storefront, and Anne doesn't know what to do. She's loathe to leave the Plantars by themselves, but maybe the cashier won't be the most cynical soul in Los Angeles. Then the frogs won't go under the risk of wandering the streets, talking to strangers. She can't bring them in though, what if the employee freaks out (like...any reasonable person confronted by talking frog people would). A clammy, orange hand taps her arm twice. She looks down.

"We'll be okay for five minutes, Anne," reassures Hop-pop. "Hand me Sprig." She doesn't hand him Sprig so much as the pink frog melts off her back and flops down next to his grandfather, but either way transfer successful. Okay now it's just time to interact with a human who isn't one of her two childhood best friends. She can't be totally out of practice right?

Marcy's eyes had been so wide when she died. Her pretty, dark brown eyes glittering from the light of Andrias' sword. From the flashing blue of the portal home. From tears.

Anne swallows roughly and steps toward the entrance. She scolds herself when the self-automated doors startle her, and she glances around the store. Someone tall and bald by the coolers, someone on the phone in the back, besides them and Anne the place is empty. Well, and the cashier. She approaches the register before she can one-eighty out the stupid doors, and she clears her throat. The cashier, a young guy with bright green and black hair and a name tag reading 'Jared', looks up from his phone.

"Hey-o, ready to check out?"

"Um, no actually," Anne starts and stops. What is she supposed to say? "I...dropped my phone and it cracked badly," she lies. "I was supposed to meet up with my mom but I can't get the dang thing to turn on." She laughs, short and high-pitched, rubbing her neck. "Is there like, a store phone I could borrow to call her?"

Jared raises his eyebrows. "No, there isn't a store phone. If you buy something I could exchange dollars for quarters, I think there's a phone booth near here." The lights are buzzing really loudly, Anne notices. She takes a deep breath.

"Sorry, that doesn't work. Could I borrow your phone?" She sees how the older guy assesses her. She sees her dirty torn school skirt, her scorched copper armor, the twigs that she can't stop finding in her hair. "Or could I give you her number? Please, I just want to get back to my mom." Jared's frown softens and his mouth opens to speak, but is cut off by a voice behind Anne.

"Annie Bone-choy?" Her neck complains at the speed she turns to look. The bald person she saw earlier. Face contorted in open surprise, finger pointed in her direction, he says in a nasally SoCal accent, "Your parents have been looking everywhere for you."

"Do I know you?" Anne asks. Bald guy shakes his head. "No. I like your parents restaurant, amazing noodles by the way, and they have your missing posters all over the front. Yours and two other girls."

"I thought you lost your phone and were meeting up with your mom," Jared unhelpful interjects. Anne looks between both of them.

"Can I please use someone's phone to call my mom?" The two adults look at each other.

"Tell me your mom's number," says Jared tentatively. Anne rattles off the ten digit code with ease. She remembers sitting in the kitchen and her mom helping her arrange plastic magnet numbers in the order of her cell phone number. Jared puts the phone on speaker and the dialing tone begins to ring. Once, twice, three times, four...

"Hi! This is Madee Boonchuy. Not here right now, please leave a message!" The messaging system beeps and Anne just shakes her head at Jared. He ends the call.

"Can you please try again?" She pleads. Jared frowns, but does as requested. The dialing rings again. And gets voice-mail, again.

"I could call the restaurant," the bald guy offers. "It's not exactly rush hour but they are open right now, right?" Anne blinks away the stinging in her eyes. She has no idea what time it is, no idea what day or month or even if it's the same year. Who knows how Amphibia time lines up with Earth time?

"Can you? Please?" He nods and pulls out his phone. A minute while he finds the contact, and now for the third time, the phone rings on speaker. Anne knows what they say about third tries, and she crosses her fingers tightly.

"Hello? Delivery or pick-up?" Familiar, accented English, and Anne has to resist falling to the floor.

"Mom," Anne whispers in Thai, and the voice on the line speaks rapidly.

"Anne? Sweetheart? Oh my god, Anne? Anne?"

"It's me Mom. It's Anne," Anne sniffs and hiccups.

Some sharp, unintelligible yelling comes out the receiver, and there is a rustling and slamming sound before Anne's mom replies, "Where are you?"

Anne blue screens for a second. "I'm..." She struggles to remember. "I'm at a 7-11."

"What? Where? What street?"

"Daly Street," Jared pipes up.

"Who is that?" Her mother says sharply.

"That's just the cashier, he was, he was helping me. Well and another guy who comes to the restaurant apparently? I uh, he says he recognized me from my posters, huh, I didn't realize I'd have any," Anne rambles.

"I'm coming to you, Anne," Her mom promises. "I'm going to hug you so much. I'm coming to you. I have to hang up now, to get in the car, but do not go. Please."

"I promise," says Anne, and when her mom ends the call, she starts crying.

.

She exits the 7-11 once she gets the bald guy and Jared to distract each other (i.e. purchasing a bottled soda), and she spots the Plantars immediately. They're on top of a parked USPS truck. When Anne peers around the vehicle to see the other side of the street, she spies the mailman making his way towards the truck. Crap.

"Guys!" She hisses through clenched teeth. She raps her knuckles against the truck's side and hear Polly yelp. "Guys, get off the truck!" A moment later, Hop-pop and Sprig land beside her, Polly in her brother's arms. Anne pulls them over to the Redbox and huddles on the side opposite to the store entrance. She steps in front of them, hoping her body will shield enough of the frogs so nobody looks closer.

"Your mom is gonna be here soon?" Sprig asks. Anne nods.

"Yep, she'll...she'll be here soon." There's no response, and there is a take-a-tab paper taped to the trash can advertising singing lessons, and it's all Anne can do to not remember the time Sasha threw a karaoke party and they all started singing badly and together, and Anne blinks and keeps talking.

"My mom will come, and she's probably in her mini-van, oh man she's gonna tear through like twenty stop signs and scare other drivers so bad," she snorts, "and maybe there'll be a loose water bottle or a chip bag in the car, and oh man, you guys don't know what sour cream and onion chips are I can't wait to show you-"

"Anne," Hop-pop cuts her off. "Don't forget to breathe." She sucks in a deep breath and feels bile creeping up her throat. She tries to swallow but her mouth is so dry it just hurts. She can't imagine how her frog family's is feeling compared to her, they must be feeling so much worse than her, and they haven't said anything yet. Anne exhales forcefully. When a hand squeezes around her own, she squeezes back reassuringly.

They all jump as a dark red mini-van screeches to a halt in front of the 7-11. The driver exits the car, not wasting time to even park, and runs towards them. "Anne!"

"Mom!!!" Anne cries and she takes only a few steps before she's barreled over.

"Anne, oh my god, thank the heavens it's you! Anne, Anne, oh my baby," Anne's mom sobs into her shoulder before pulling back. Anne stares at her mother. Lets her eyes trace the deepened wrinkles, notice the shining, brown eyes the same shade as her own, the beauty mark on her chin. Her mom's glasses are new. Anne can't remember what they'd been, but now her mom wears tortoiseshell frames.

"I like your glasses," is the first thing to tumble out of Anne's mouth, and she nearly slaps herself. Her mom laughs wetly.

"Oh, Anne, oh, I've missed you so much." Her mother folds her back into her arms. Anne hugs back as tightly as she can for a second before her mom stiffens with a surprised grunt. "And you're so much stronger, when did that happen?"

Anne smiles. "I'll tell you about it." She steps back and grabs her mom by the shoulders. They're the same height now. "I'll tell you all about it." And that means... "Mom, let me introduce you to the Plantars," Anne steps to her mom's side and reveals her froggy family.

Her mother gasps and says something in Thai that Anne doesn't know. She would bet it's one of the worse swear words. "I know it's a shock, cuz, well, two foot tall talking frogs," says Anne and motions for the trio to come a bit closer. "But they protected me, fed me, and loved me while I was stranded in their world." Hop-pop shuffles the closes with Sprig and Polly poking their heads out behind him.

Hop-pop extends his hand. "My name is Hopadiah Plantar, it's an honor to meet you Mrs. Boonchuy." Her mom looks down at the wrinkly, orange hand and then back at Anne. She nods encouragingly and her mom steels herself before meeting the hand with her own.

She gingerly shakes it. "Pleasure to meet you...Hopadiah," Anne's mom says his name carefully. "My daughter says you kept her safe?" Hop-pop nods.

"To the best of my ability," and his face gains a wry look and he rubs the back of his neck. "When she and my grandkids weren't off chasing trouble."

Anne's mom smiles tentatively. "I'm sure. Are these your grandkids here?" Sprig comes out behind Hop-pop's back and puts out his hand.

"I'm Sprig Plantar! And this is-" A loud honk interrupts him and everyone in the group startles, moving to look at the source. A silver BMW is stuck behind her mom's mini-van and the one-way street doesn't give any wiggle around room. A shout filters out of the sports car. "MOVE YOUR CAR!" Except with a lot more swears. Anne's mom sighs.

"Introductions later, let's get in the car," she instructs and everyone moves.

All the frogs hesitate as they get closer, Sprig even flinching when Anne hauls open the back seat door with a slam. She gestures inside. "C'mon guys, it's just like a wagon," Anne says. Polly hops in first and settles into the closest middle row seat. She bounces a couple times.

"It's comfy," the polliwog reports. The jerk in the BMW honks again, even longer. Sprig and Hop-pop pile in and Anne closes the door behind them. She gets into the passenger seat and the feeling of air conditioning against her skin is like. Magic wind. Super relaxing. Like insane luxury. Oh, Anne missed technology.

"Buckle up." Her mom clicks her seat belt into the lock and starts pulling away immediately. Leaving Anne to explain what 'buckle up' means, and what a seat belt is, and no she doesn't know when they were invented. The questions continue as the mini-van pulls onto the highway, but the group soon quiets down. Anne blinks slowly and looks outside the window. The trees and billboards and other cars pass by her so quickly, so much quicker than Bessie could ever go. A pang strikes her heart as Anne realizes Bessie will be all alone. She hopes the Plantar's family snail is taken care of while they're gone. Anne looks away from the window as nausea grips her throat. She's almost home. She can hold off on falling apart for just a little longer.

.

"Anne, honey, are you awake? We're home."

Anne blinks and she squeezes her eyes tight and yawns loudly and long. She hadn't realized she dozed off. "I'm...home." She opens the door and doesn't let her twinging feet deter her from getting a good look at her home. The small bushes that lined the driveway, the slightly dented mailbox, the umbrella her dad always left outside the red door. Anne drinks it all in.

For the past several months she had been in a world with fantastical flora and fauna and shocking experiences every day, but Anne feels dizzy at the sight of her home. Her eyes catch on every detail, the once too-familiar not familiar enough. The bristly door mat; the unpolished brass numbers: 301; the creaky porch step; the small, pink, clay owl figurine Anne had given to her mom for Mother's Day in fifth grade and sat tucked in the corner. Her eyelashes are sticky with tears.

"Your house is SOOOOOOOOO BIG!" Anne snorts and is grateful for Sprig. She turns around to look at the small, pink frog.

"It's pretty nice! I've loved growing up here. Three-oh-one Silver Spring Lane." A gobsmacked look.

"You have springs made of silver?" Sprig's jaw drops. Hop-pop's head pokes out of the van.

"What's this I hear of silver springs?"

Surprisingly, it's Anne's mom who answers. She laughs, and it soothes Anne, before saying, "No, Hopadiah. It's just a nice name for a road." Anne tunes out what Hop-pop replies in favor of turning back to the door.

The metal door handle is hot to touch, searing from the oppressive California heat. She breathes out in a harsh whoosh and forces herself to yank the door open. It slams against the wall and the hinges squeak. Anne hears a sound of protest from her mom, but she can't acknowledge it when there's a bullet of fluff running towards the door.

"DOMINO!" The cat jumps into Anne's arms and she catches her, swinging Domino around and around and gosh, will Anne ever stop crying today? She hides her tears in Domino's soft, white belly, and laughs as the cat wiggles around to climb up her shoulders. Domino wraps around her neck and rubs Anne's check with her cute, little face.

Anne collapses to her knees and she pulls her cat around and holds her so carefully and so, so close. Domino allows this longer than ever before, but soon she does squirm and fall to the carpet on all four feet. She chirps and purrs vacuum-like. Anne's hands move on their own accord, stroking down Domino's back, scratching all her sweet spots, reacquainting herself with her Domino, her beautiful angel baby.

"Anne, could you move your reunion a few feet more into the hallway? So we can come in?" Her mom says, her tone telling Anne she's smiling. Anne kisses her baby's head one more time before standing up and moves to the side. Ugh, her knees hurt from carpet burn. That's one thing she hadn't missed.

"Sprig, Polly, Hop-pop! Remember the killapillar?" Anne scoops up Domino and holds her out. "This is Domino One!" Sprig steps closer, squinting. He pokes at Domino's paw and she mrrps! at him. He flinches back for a second before staring deep into her eyes. Anne watches this stare-off with no small amount of amusement.

Eventually, Sprig asks, "So this Domino won't kill us for dinner?" Anne shakes her head and a leaf drifts from her hair.

"Nope!"

Sprig oh so slowly reaches a finger to Domino's long-haired back. "Oh!" He says, curling his fingers through the fur. "She's even softer than peatmoss."

Polly joins her brother and jumps up and down on her new, little legs. "Let me pet her!" Anne leans back down, but Domino wriggles out her grip and runs down the hallway, disappearing around the kitchen corner. Polly pouts. "Aw! I wanted to touch Domino One."

Anne pats her yellow bow. "Don't worry. There's plenty of time for that later."

"I believe a good use of time right now," Anne's mom says, still lingering in the open door, "would be for you to change out of your dirty clothes. Go take a shower."

Anne stares at her mom stunned. "Oh my god...," she whispers. "I shall finally be clean." Sprig laughs.

"Are there no showers where you come from?" Anne's mom asks Hop-pop as Anne still revels in the very idea of pressurized water.

"I can't say I know what a shower-whatsit is, but we did bathe," Hop-pop says archly, half at Anne's mom and half at her. Her mom nods understandingly. Then frowns.

"Do you have any spare clothes with you?" She asks and all the Plantars go wide-eyed.

"We..." Hop-pop can't finish his sentence hands twisting his ascot. Sprig looks morose and he's holding onto his slingshot tightly. Polly is similar, tugging at her frayed and dirty yellow bow. Anne's heart twinges, and she cuts in.

"We didn't exactly have time to pack our wardrobes when we came, Mom," she says. "I have piggy bank money, we can go shopping guys! You guys have to see the mall. This time, my treat," she tries to cheer up the little frogs.

Sprig and Polly perk up at the mention of visiting the mall, but Hop-pop and her mom both protest at once.

"Anne, that's mighty kind of you, but-"

"Anne, that's very generous, but-"

Both stop and her mom motions for the frog to continue. Hop-pop waits a second more before saying, "Anne, you don't need to spend your savings on us. We can make do if you just show us to a wash bucket and a needle with thread. When these get worn out, we'll cross that river when we come to it." Anne's mom then lays a hand on Hop-pop's shoulder, slightly crouching to reach. Hop-pop nods at her.

Her mom smiles before saying to him, "I can certainly show you the washing machine, but we'll figure out another set of clothes for you." Her gaze casts over Sprig, Polly, and Anne. "For all of you. And Anne," her mom walks up to her and she smiles with glistening eyes, "when did you grow up so much?" She brings Anne into a tight hug before releasing her. And boops her nose. Anne squeals. Her mom smiles. "I will pay for the shopping. Now!" She claps. "Shoes off."

Everyone looked down at their feet and noticed the frogs didn't have any. "Ah well, shoes and...shoe off. Anne, what happened to your shoe?"

Anne waves it off. "Lost it a few months ago." Her mother grumbles and Anne suspects she'll be getting a new pair of sneakers in the near future. Then it occurs to her, "Where's Dad?"

"He had to stay to make sure the delivery went smoothly since Jackson quit and everyone else messes it up," her mom explains while running her hands through Anne's hair.

Anne gasps. "No! Not Jackson."

"Yes, Jackson," replies her mom. Her fingers tug painfully through Anne's hair and come away holding a handful of leaves and twigs. "Is there an entire forest in your head? Now off you go, shower. Get the dirt off," she commands. Anne rolls her eyes.

"Yes, Mom," Anne says in Thai and kisses her cheek. She looks to the Plantars. "You guys okay with my mom showing you around the house? Show you somewhere to sit and some water?"

Hop-pop nods and Polly wiggles. "I have a mighty THIRST," she yells. Anne giggles.

"Well, alright froggy fam. See you on the flip side," and she starts to head up the steps, her fingers trailing the railing, when a cough causes her to pause. She glances back.

"Anne..." Sprig says, "welcome home."

Tears spill over her cheeks and Anne half-falls down the stairs to give him a tight hug. Quickly, other froggy arms surround the two and are joined by a pair of human arms. All together, all safe, all alive. Anne takes a deep breath, and exhales heavily. She's back home.

#amphibia fic #amphibia #anne boonchuy #hopadiah plantar #sprig plantar #polly plantar #mrs. boonchuy #amphibia season three #my writing #if you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this pls consider reblogging

[monster-bait]

Talse, Telepathic Gelatinous Monster x F Human, NSFW, Monster Match

A commission for @edgier-than-a-diamond​, based on a dream she shared ina "Show Me Your!" post

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I wish you were able to see what I’m dealing with here, you thought, pressing your lips together to keep your laughter at bay. Bun fun time is proving to be a bit too much for the volunteer of the month.

Across the room, Marcie was struggling. You tried not to let the older woman get under your skin, for you knew she meant well. Still, that didn't mean you actually needed to hear about how long she’d been volunteering every single time you were scheduled together, nor did it help you do your job better to be reminded that she had been named the volunteer of the month a staggering eighteen times over her years of service at the animal shelter. 

All of her experience and laminated certificates weren’t helping at the current moment, as Biscuit and Marshmallow raced around the exercise enclosure, tawny and white blurs, determined not to listen to Marcie. Every time the rabbits slowed, she would charge forward in victory, her hands barely grazing their fur before they’d be off again, gleefully evading her once more.

This is how you take the title from her. Bun mastery is absolutely worthy of volunteer of the month! Just start carrying a pocket full of whatever Biscuit likes to eat!

You had to turn away then, unable to hold back your huff of laughter as Marcie attempted to reach through her legs for Marshmallow, staggering forward as she did so and still completely missing him.

Not needing to speak aloud to have conversations was a double-edged sword. On one hand, you didn’t have to appear as though you were talking to yourself. You imagined that it would not endear you to your parents or people in shops if you were constantly carrying on one-sided conversations, and certainly wouldn’t earn you the volunteer of the month title. 

On the other hand, controlling your facial features was sometimes a greater challenge. As it was, your parents had remarked about how “smiley” you’d become, how difficult it was at times to keep a neutral expression. You couldn’t help it—your conversation companion had a sense of humor you adored, slightly sarcastic but always kind, and you loved the time spent with them.

...In your head.

“What’s going on down there?” 

A voice full of barely suppressed mirth crackled in your ear, the next volunteer radioing down from the upstairs office, and this time you didn’t bother hiding your snort of laughter, knowing full well she could see Biscuit racing like he was going for the gold around Marcie’s feet. 

“Let me guess...she didn’t need your help.”

“Nope,” you confirmed with a chuckle, turning away from the amusing tableau as Marcie exclaimed in frustration. There were only two volunteers permitted on the floor at once, social distancing measures that had become the new normal. Despite her bluster about being the very best volunteer at the shelter, Marcie was typically the first person pushing out the door once replacements arrived, and you weren’t about to give up the rare opportunity to leave first.

“All the cats have fresh litter and water, check with her about the dogs...have a good night!”

I’m getting out of here, you announced silently once you’d left the shelter. 

Ok...drive safely. Let me know when you get home. 

Your cheeks warmed as you crossed the parking lot, keys already in hand. If it had been a text message, there would have been nothing amiss, you considered. Hell, for that matter you could have been talking aloud on speakerphone, and the brief exchange wouldn’t have raised the suspicions of anyone in the vicinity. You were announcing your departure and received the same sort of caring admonition people received from their loved ones every day.

The only difference was your conversation was taking place inside your head...with the voice.

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.

It had started shortly after you’d moved back to your parent’s house.

It had made sense to come home: you were finished with school and had managed to secure a day job to cover rent and bills, but then everything had shut down, the whole world screeching to a grinding halt. You’d vacated your small apartment and moved back into your adolescent bedroom, with plans to either return to school for an advanced degree or start a successful freelancing business with your art. 

You were grateful for having the safety net of coming home, but the nostalgia of being surrounded by your old things, your yard, the woods where you’d played endlessly as a child, had been overwhelming.

The woods had been the biggest change.

Hours and hours you’d spent there—never more than fifteen feet or so into the treeline, the light from the road clearly visible and your family’s house just across the street—but you pretended that you’d been transported to another world, deep in the heart of the forest. There was always a curious collection of random detritus to be collected: bottles and buttons and shoelaces, treasures from the woods which became potion vessels and magic amulets, objects which you used to construct traps for any intruder who might come barging into your tree-shaded sanctum, creating detailed origin stories for everything in your fortress and the woods beyond.

It had been your favorite place to play as a child, and you’d been more than a little upset when the first thing you’d noticed, as you pulled up to your parent’s house on the day you’d moved home, was the absence of trees. The frontage of the woods, the spot where you’d played, was gone; flattened and bare, leaving nothing behind but the newly-poured foundations of a house, the land purchased and developed.

It was silly to be upset, you told yourself, struggling into the house with bags full of clothes that day. You weren’t a kid anymore, it wasn’t as if you could just disappear into the woods and play with sticks and buttons and bits of colored glass as you’d done as a child...those days were gone, and the neighborhood was changing.

That hadn’t stopped you from thinking about it for days, nagging at the back of your mind until your feet carried you outside one night, seemingly of their own volition. You’re not a child, it’s not like you’re going to get in trouble for being out after dark, you’d reminded yourself. Standing on the front porch led to sitting on the stoop, until you began to restlessly pace the length of the driveway...until your feet acted independently once more, drawing you to the road. The woods which remained were dense and dark, deeper than you’d ever ventured as a child. But if that house had always been there, you would have played in this section instead. It’s no different.

The suburban neighborhood was quiet, the streetlamp above casting a long shadow over a car parked at the curb, and from the end of the driveway, you were able to see the waddling shape of a skunk moving purposefully across a manicured lawn, several yards away. Headlights lit the street briefly, a zooming compact car bearing the lit rooftop sign of a local pizza franchise turning into a driveway near the corner. 

Rocking on the curb in front of the house, you’d held your breath and waited.

There were all the familiar sounds of suburbia which you knew so well: the dim sound of traffic from the main road, several blocks away from the twisting nest of side streets, lessened at this hour, but never entirely ceasing; the sound of music and childish shouting coming the home of one of the neighbors, the slam of a car door and the roar of an engine, as the pizza delivery car turned out of the driveway on two wheels, red brake lights flaring to life for only an instant before the car careened around the corner, out of sight. There was something else there as well, some unseen thrum of electricity that made your skin prickle pleasantly and your blood hum, and you’d been certain it was coming from the woods. 

An interminable moment went by before you’d decided. This was the neighborhood you’d grown up in, and there was nothing of which to be afraid. Rocking forward one last time, you left the curb and crossed the road. 

It was dimmer on the other side of the road, the streetlamp’s halo of light not quite extending that far, but the edge of the woods had seemed comfortably familiar as you walked through the grass leading to the treeline. You’d hesitated once more, closing your eyes to listen for the crunch of sticks or a rustle in the underbrush that might indicate you were not actually alone, but all you’d been able to hear was the sound of the neighbor’s children laughing in their playroom, and a car door slamming several houses away. The thrum of energy seemed stronger, and you pushed through the trees, stepping carefully. The peaty smell of dead leaves and bark brought a wave

You hadn’t gone more than ten feet when you were stopped.

Careful. There’s some water just ahead, and the rocks are terribly slippery.

You’d frozen, terror-stricken at the unexpected voice and unable to place from which direction it had come. Stupid, so stupid! What the hell are you thinking, going traipsing through the woods in the dark?! A million possible scenarios flooded through your mind, each one more terrifying and grisly than the next, but your mysterious navigator did not show themselves. They’re waiting to see what you do next. The thudding of your heartbeat was loud enough to surely alert them to your whereabouts, and your eyes casted about wildly, seeking the hidden shape of an assailant in the trees...but there had been no one. Play it cool...just thank them and walk away.

“Th-thank you,” you’d squeaked out, listening for the telltale rustle of branches, but the woods around you remained still and silent. “I...appreciate that.” 

You’d turned around carefully, and managed to make it back to the treeline unmolested, although your pulse had still been racing. You heardit again, just as you’d stepped back through the branches, the safety of the streetlamp’s glow just ahead. 

Come back in the daytime when there’s more light. The creek is very pretty, but you’ll want to know which spots to avoid.

The voice was just as clear and distinct as it had been in the dark woods, although you'd been positive you’d not been followed. Neither male nor female, the voice was smooth and even, with a slightly buzzy quality, like the hum of an old-fashioned television, it hadn’t come from the woods behind you, nor from your left or right...it had come from your head.

You ran. Realizing that you were technically running from nothing, you’d managed to slow to a casual jog, just in case any of the neighbors were peering from their windows, as though sprinting out of the woods hours after sunset was the most normal undertaking in the world.

It had only been a bit after eleven p.m. when you’d let yourself back into the house that night, but you’d immediately gone to your room and collapsed into your childhood bed, falling into a deep sleep, full of dark trees and a pulsing, thrumming energy.

.

.

It was several days before you went back.

At first you’d been afraid, convincing yourself that there had been someone there, that there must have been some odd reverberation from the trees which had made the sound seem as though it were coming from closer than it was.

But the sound hadn’t just been close.

It had been right in your head, as if you’d thought the words yourself! There was no way for an echo from the trees to carry into your consciousness, was there?

There was an old picnic table on the side of the house, one your mother had been telling your father to drag to the curb for several years, and you made quick work of dragging it around the house and across the yard. Pulling across the street had been a bit trickier, as had been hoisting it over the curb and across the hidden rits in the short field, but soon you had it positioned where you wanted it—close enough to the dense treeline for you to tell if that same thrumming hum was present, and just far enough for you to have a decent head start on anyone, or anything, that might come barreling through the trees.

It was a good spot to sketch, you thought that first evening, glad you’d brought a spiral-bound pad as an excuse. The light was softly diffused, and from your spot at the low table, you had a perfect view of the sunset between the houses, leaving the sky a wash of pink and orange, and you wasted no time in getting to work.

That’s quite good. You’re very talented.

You became so engrossed with capturing the wisping clouds, that you’d forgotten your purpose at the table before the trees, jumping in surprise when that same voice resonated in your head. There was no one looking over you, as their words implied, and you took a shuddering breath, your fight or flight response moving into overdrive.

“Th-thank you,” you called out uncertainly, carefully positioning your legs in a way that would allow you to spring away from the table if needed. “Um...who...where are you?”

You don’t need to be afraid, the voice responded, jumping over your question to address the audible thump of your heartbeat. I’m not going to hurt you, there’s no threat from me...I live here. In the woods. Have you lived here very long? I’ve only been here a few years myself, but I don’t remember you visiting before.

You blinked. It seemed to be such an innocuous conversation, as if the fact that they were an unseen voice issuing from inside your head meant little next to their desire for gossip. “I-I used to live here. My parents live across the street, this is where I grew up. I used to play in these woods for hours, I was sad to see so much of it had been cut down.”

Your answer surprised you, shocked that you were apparently going to play along with...whatever this was.

Ah, yes, I imagine that was disappointing. The bittersweetness of lost childhood coupled with the loss of nature...well, I’m glad that you’ve found some solace in the bit of green space left. You really are very talented. Is art your profession?

You’d nearly laughed aloud. You’d gone on only a handful of dates in the past year, and none had seemed as interested in you as this mysterious voice!

“I’m hoping to make it more than just a hobby,” you replied, unable to keep the smile from your face. Perhaps it’s a tree nymph, unable to leave the forest? “Thank you for the compliment.”

You went in not long after, and the voice had expressed regret that your conversation had to come to an end.

“I’ll be back,” you’d blurted, not thinking your actions through. Despite your initial trepidation, it had been a nice conversation. “I live just across the street, and this is a nice place to sketch...I’ll definitely be back. Maybe tomorrow?”

Tomorrow had turned into every day that week, several hours on Sunday, and clear into the following week in the blink of an eye. You couldn’t explain why you felt so comfortable with the voice, only that you did. Their words to you that first evening at the picnic bench had proved to be true—you sensed absolutely no threat from them. You were naturally quiet with a tendency to stay in your shell around most people, but at the low bench facing the woods with your back to the street, you felt free to be sociable.

They were insatiably curious about the neighborhood, and you couldn’t help but think it was adorable.

Do you think they’ll have children? Or a dog? they mused over the new house which was now being steadily constructed. I hope not, they can be so noisy...oh, but isn’t that what a house away from the city is for? Hopefully it’ll be a nice family with children who respect the woods as much as you did. 

It was later that night, three weeks after you’d first dragged the table across the street, that it happened for the first time.

Tomorrow I’ll bring lunch out to the table...I wish we could have a picnic together. You did not give voice to the words in your head as you crossed the street, heading in before the mosquitoes got to be too overbearing. It would have been nice to have a picnic lunch with your mysterious friend, but you knew not to push the issue. A tree nymph...or maybe some sort of faerie. They had never offered their name, and you felt awkward asking at that point, and had never volunteered to come out of the forest, wherever it was they were hidden.

That sounds nice! You can tell me all about it, and I’ll tell you about the fight that happened over the weekend!

Your face pulled into a smile, charmed by their customary cheerfulness and love of gossip, thinking of the backyard swim party that had somehow turned into a multi-family brawl two streets away, a story you’d only heard snippets of from the ladies at the shelter, when you froze.

You hadn’t spoken your picnic plans aloud.

Are—are you able to hear me?

You were standing on the sidewalk facing your house, not daring to turn back to the woods, certain you’d imagined the cheery response...when it came again.

I am! How nice! This is almost like having one of those cellular devices!

You’d smiled, shaking your head fondly as your stomach flipped. Having them inside your head...that was different, you thought. Different, but not entirely unwelcome? After all, you rationalized, hadn’t you just been muttering to yourself that same morning that missed having actual friends to talk to throughout the day?

.

.

Well? Did bun fun time end in disaster?

We’ll never know, you thought back with a laugh. I left before Biscuit managed to trip her, but I’m sure I’ll find out when I go back later this week.

Your mother had plans to redecorate several rooms in the house, roping you into her planning the instant you stepped into the house that evening, but you managed to escape shortly after dusk, slipping out the side door and hurrying across the street.

Sorry, you announced, throwing a leg over the bench, my mom is obsessed with turning the house into something from HGTV. I’m really glad to be home and saving money, but sometimes I miss the simplicity of my apartment. You laughed, nearly missing their wistful sigh.

It must be nice having a house. It’s a space of one’s own, of course she’s excited to keep it looking beautiful!

Swallowing, you considered their words, thinking again of them being tethered to a tree. You—you’ve never lived in a house?

I haven’t, they confirmed. But I do so love the look of them. What are you drawing tonight? Have you started working on your commission yet?

The conversation had been thoroughly changed, but their words echoed in your mind long after you went in for the night, after they’d wished you a tender goodbye.

Sweet dreams, I hope you have a good morning.

Goodnight, you mentally called as you crossed the front lawn. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

.

.

I...I think we should meet. The words were out before you were able to control your traitorous thoughts, and your cheeks instantly heated. You had a habit of speaking without thinking, but this was really putting your foot in it, you considered, as all you had to do was control your thoughts. When no immediate answer was forthcoming, you pushed on as the fire spread to your ears. Don’t you? It’s just...it would be nice to finally have a conversation in person.

...I don’t know if that’s wise. Its voice was a murmur, more subdued than you could ever remember it being previously, and your heart fell. Things might be very different in person, and this has been so nice.

I agree, you argued vehemently. This has been the nicest summer of my life. I don’t see anything changing once we’re face to face, why would it? 

Your pulse had begun to thud in your ears as they hesitated, another uncharacteristic element to their normal conversation. You managed to hold back voicing the depth of your feelings, the desire that heated your body when you were alone in your bed at night. The memory of the dream you’d had was still strong, still replayed in your mind almost every night, your fingers moving down your body to push between your legs and finding yourself slick at the thought of being with your mysterious friend.

We may not be very compatible.

The bottom your chest seemed to drop as your heart plummeted down to your feet. Not compatible. There had never been anyone else with whom you’d been more compatible, and you couldn’t foresee yourself having such a strong bond with anyone else, not the way you had with them. Not compatible. This was just a game to them, just a way to pass the time, and you’d gone and assigned it feelings which were clearly one-sided. You weren’t anything special at all. 

That’s not what I meant—

I think we should leave things here then. Your eyes blurred with tears, unable to keep the thought from barreling forward, even though it hurt. No sense in wasting each other’s time if we’re so incompatible. This has been fun, but...all good things must come to an end, I guess. You spun on your heel and headed back into the shelter to finish the rest of your volunteer shift, closing your consciousness to the effortless connection you had with the invisible voice.

For the first time in weeks, your mind was silent.

.

.

You’d felt on edge throughout the day.

Your concentration on even the smallest tasks was not existent, your gaze constantly settling on an invisible point in the middle distance, your thoughts a jumble.

The voice in your head had remained silent, and it was tearing you up.

You hadn’t gone this long without speaking to them since that first night on the edge of the woods, hadn’t realized that the absence of their chatter would leave you feeling as though you were suffering through the days. You regretted making things awkward and wished you could take back your words, but it wasn’t as though you were able to call or text them, couldn’t swing by their house on your way home from the shelter. You didn’t know how to fix things, although you badly wanted to try.

Things were beginning to open up, life slowly returning to normal, and you needed to start applying for jobs, you conceded, or else, start looking into university programs. You could go back to your alma mater, you considered, or investigate some of the other options which weren’t terribly far away. There was a state school just outside the closest city, and just beyond that was a community which housed a small, private university with an excellent liberal arts college…

You needed to start thinking about what was next, but the idea of doing so without your friend, whoever, whatever they were, broke your heart.

The rest of your shift at the animal shelter passed in a blur, and you hardly paid any mind to Marcie’s prattling or humblebragging, shouldering past her the instant you spotted the next volunteer up in the office window. She’d huffed when she realized your intent and that she’d not be able to leave first, calling out with a dodgy-sounding excuse, but you’d ignored the whine in her voice and pressed on. Your mother had mentioned needing your help with something when you got home, and you usually didn't take your sketchbook down to the picnic table until dusk, but you beelined across the street that evening, the moment you’d pulled into the driveway.

You felt the thrum, the familiar connection with the unseen force and your mind sparked, just before a stream of conversation exploded in your head. 

I didn’t mean incompatible regarding our personalities. You’re funny and talented and kind and I love spending time with you, of course I do! Their voice burst to life behind your eyes, speaking in a rush as if they were afraid of being cut off again, and your chest heaved at their words. I only meant that we’re not...the same. I’m not like you. And...and I didn't want that to spoil things.

You understood their meaning immediately. Of course they weren’t human, how could they think you would assume they were?! You had been having telepathic conversations with them for the better part of the summer, and you thought constantly about what they might be, but you hadn’t wanted to ask, and it hadn’t seemed important. You had shared with them a part of yourself which was hard to share with anyone, a part of yourself you increasingly felt disinclined to share with anyone but them. You loved the sense of security you felt with them in your mind, their clever banter and humor, their innocent wistfulness when it came to the neighborhood. You loved spending time with them, loved...them. You loved them, and it didn’t matter what they were.

The town was predominately human, was all human, as far as you knew. There had been whispers when you’d gone to the local high school about certain families being werewolves and other creatures, but there had never been any proof, as far as you’d known, and you had no idea if any of them were still in the area...but there were towns where multiple species lived side-by-side. There had been a handful of non-human students at your university, and when you’d venture into the city with friends, there would be orcs and goblins and minotaurs, all crowding the restaurants and light rail trains, bustling up the sidewalks. There was a hair salon you’d visited a handful of times which was run by blue-skinned nymphs, and for her twenty-first birthday, your best friend had wanted to go to a posh nightclub in the city, where the doorman had been a brawny minotaur and the bartender a tall, green-skinned man with sparkling, laughing eyes. You weren’t worried about an inter-species relationship.

I don’t think it will, you challenged. Do you honestly think I’ve been assuming I’m talking to some random human sitting on a log in the woods? Of course I know you’re...different. 

It’s not that simple, they began after another pause, interrupted this time by the clang of your phone ringer. Your mother. You sighed, knowing she’d be irritated to learn you were home and were actively avoiding helping her.

Look, you began, silencing the phone. I need to go, but we’re not done discussing this, okay? I’ll be out later.

Later, unfortunately, never arrived. Your mother was organizing the basement, an undertaking that seemed as if it would have no end, and it had been night by the time you’d finally trudged upstairs to shower away the grime. It was late, too late to go sit in the dark and have the conversation that you needed to have, and your head felt heavy, eyes aggravated from the dust of your chore. Skipping dinner, you went from the shower to your bed, dropping to sleep almost immediately.

Moonlight lit a small clearing in the deepest part of the forest across the road. You were dimly aware of its glow overhead, seeing it as you were from under a translucent surface, as if you were under water. Under water, yet...suspended, somehow. There was a humming, a pulse of energy more than an audible sound, and it shivered up your spine, making the hair on your neck stand on end. A pumping rhythm, a pulsing throb that escalated in its intensity until you were able to feel it thudding through you, matching your heartbeat and the pulse between your thighs. The rhythm engulfed you, pumping, pulsing, throbbing against you from every side until your body began to shake, waves of ecstasy arching your spine.

You sat up in bed, gasping.

Moonlight flooded through the windows, bathing the end of the bed in light, and you struggled to slow your breathing. It was a dream about them, your voice, you knew it. You didn’t know why you were so certain, couldn’t account for the strange sensation of being completely engulfed...but you knew it was true. Tingles still rippled up your spine and you could almost still feel the pulsing tension encasing you...You need to go to the woods. They would be there, and you would find them. As you clutched at the bed sheets, desperately trying to recover from the explosive climax in your dream, you couldn’t find any fault with your own line of reasoning.

The road was still, as you crept out of the house, careful not to wake your parents, and the air was silent, save for the buzz and chirp of crickets. Unlike that first night when you’d rocked off the curb to venture to the trees, it was truly late, the moon high in an inky-black sky. High, but still bright, and you were grateful as the moonlight filled in the gaps where the streetlamp diminished. You felt the thrum of energy, the familiar prickle of heat against your skin, and pushed into the trees without hesitation.  

You knew where to step, which spots to avoid, and were grateful for the time you’d spent in the daylight hours, exploring the front part of the wood. You’d never gone very deep into the thick of the trees, but you would need to that night, you realized. You felt the soft hum of energy, felt your body responding to it...and pushed forward, following it into the darkness.

You knew you’d reached your destination before even breaking through the trees to the clearing, felt the buzz of energy beneath your skin so strongly you were nearly vibrating with it. The small hollow was bathed in moonlight, ringed in dark woods, and at its center sat them. Your voice, your constant companion for the last several months. You immediately understood why they’d been so worried over meeting, why they’d thought this might end things...but they were wrong, you decided. You would figure things out. 

They were completely translucent and roughly the size of your neighbor’s Volkswagen, and as you approached cautiously, the dew drop trembled.

You’re so lovely

The voice in your head was soft, and heat rushed to your cheeks. You were still trembling from earlier, still not quite completely down from your climactic high, and as you gazed around the small clearing, so like the one in your dream, you had a thought.

I had a dream, you began, stomach flipping when they quickly confirmed.

Yes...I was able to sense you.

It was you, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to you earlier, how real the dream had felt, why it had been so hard to catch your breath afterwards, as if you really had been submerged...Was that you calling for me?

Not exactly, they hesitated, and your shoulders slumped a bit, but their next words stalled your disappointment. I was...dreaming, I suppose. Dreaming of you.

The ramifications of their meaning took a moment for your mind to absorb. Dreaming...of me? Were we-were we sharing a dream?!

It would seem so, they hummed, and you drifted closer, unable to keep yourself from reaching out. I’ve never had a connection with another being so strongly before, and your consciousness...well, we’re very in-tune.

The outside of their droplet form had a surface tension you weren’t quite expecting, with a springiness your fingers could only sink into so far. In your dream, you realized, you’d been upright, as if you’d sunk straight down into them. You needed to climb to their top, you realized, kicking off your flip flops. I want to do that again, you announced, cutting off whatever they’d been saying in their even, thrumming voice. Your toes squished against their crystalline side, struggling for purchase as you climbed the dew drop form you’d somehow managed to fall for. 

The climb was not difficult, and before you knew it, you were atop the shimmering orb. The texture of their squishy surface was pleasant, and as you steadied yourself, you felt it rippling against your skin, caressing up your bare leg in a ripple, and you struggled to pull off your pajama shorts. Bare from the waist down, you balanced on your knees and waited.

You began to sink slowly.

Too slowly, you griped to yourself, for the sucking, rippling sensation against the fronts of your legs as they were slowly submerged sent shockwaves of feeling up your body, and you were eager to feel it pressed against the far more sensitive bits of your anatomy. 

You weren't sure if you’d begun to roll your hips or if their surface had begun to undulate in a wave-like pattern, but before you could think better of it you were grinding against them, gasping in pleasure as your hips moved. Cool and silky, and every time you managed to move your hips at just the right angle, the quivering surface kissed your clit, and you redoubled your efforts in order to feel it again. 

You were submerged to your thighs at that point, so close to feeling the gelatinous ripples against the spot where you needed it most, when you mind buzzed with their voice. 

Hold still. Their voice was a bit firmer than usual, sending a thrill of excitement down your neck, quick to obey their direction. Hold still, and stay straight. Let yourself sink straight down.

You wondered if they had spots where they were sensitive, if the inside of their gelatinous form had more sensation than the outside, if you sinking into them was as pleasurable for them as it was for you. Only one way to find out...Holding stock still, you did as they requested, keeping till and straight, allowing yourself to sink directly down.

The effects were instantaneous.

There was a pulsing churn within their crystalline depth, kneading against your sex rhythmically, a silky press against your clit that made you see stars. Your neck dropped back, but you did not fall. The dome-like surface you’d climbed upon had shifted, energy from within being rediverted, and three thick, tentacle-like protrusions pushed upwards, somehow retaining the surface tension of the dome, wrapping around each of your arms and curling around your back until you were fully supported.

Within the translucent dome of energy, something similar was happening. 

Much as you’d ground against them as you waited to sink, you felt a rolling pressure against your slick folds. It was nearly like being underwater, the thrumming currents churning within reminding you of the jets of a whirlpool, although the idea that your mysterious friend might be experiencing the same pleasure you were made the entire adventure that much more satisfying. The sensation against your clit had become a sucking, pulsing throb, and the first warning tremors of climax were just quivering through you when you felt something entirely different added to the mix.

A current of the interior ooze, solidifying loosely to form another of the tentacles which supported you, with none of the outside surface tension. It was impossible to explain, and when it tentatively pushed into you, the need for explanation vanished as you moaned into the night air. You’d been surrounded in your dream, completely engulfed by the pulsing churn within the dome of their form, but now you were partially free, able to be an active participant in your own pleasure, and you cried out again.

“I’m so close,” you gasped aloud, forgetting to voice your thoughts silently. “Please don’t stop.”

The fluid tentacle within you writhed, pumping into you with the same pulsing energy as the sucking press at your clit, and your tentative dam of control broke at last. Your body shook within its gelatinous suspension, your core convulsing rhythmically against the fluid tentacle inside you, and your mind buzzed. It took you another moment to realize the buzzing energy was their own release vibrating against you until the sensation against your sensitive pearl was enough to wring another climax from your body. The stars above you in the inky black sky suddenly seemed impossibly bright, bright and close, and then the world went dark.

.

.

When you woke, you were cocooned in their gel-like center. 

Your head was pillowed against the outside of the dome, and it was surprisingly comfortable and warm, the most comfortable mattress you’d ever slept upon. The tenderness with which they enveloped you stole your breath.

You’re so lovely, they murmured again, pleasant sparks pricking your skin at the sound in your head. I’ve missed you so much. I never meant to hurt you.

I know. It’s my fault too. It was just a miscommunication.

Can things go back to the way they were?

You waited several long moments before answering. Could they? You loved their humor and cheerfulness, didn’t want to be miserable without them again...but you couldn’t go backwards. Not now.

I don’t think so.

You felt their deflation before the small ‘oh’ sounded in your head, and you struggled to move your hand, to stroke at their smooth interior.

I don’t want things to go back, you explained quickly. But-but that doesn’t mean they can’t go forward. Their silence was a heavy weight, and you pushed forward unerringly. Schools are opening back up, and I need to think about work, about going back to school.

You’re going to leave.

Their voice was sad, sadder than you could bear and you pressed your cheek to their surface. I am...but you can come with me. There’s a town, it’s not even that far away, just on the other side of the city! Different species all live together there. I didn't even realize it until I was looking at the university’s website this week...if I get into the art program there, you could come with me. They have really cute little houses and condos for student housing and I’ll have a stipend, and-and there’s a forest if you can’t manage anything else.

Their domed surface had begun to recede, until you were able to stumble free.

A-a house? In a neighborhood?

Their voice was wondrous, and you laughed. That’s up to you.

You thought they were reforming into the great dewdrop again as they began to shift, but something else was happening, you realized. As you watched, their form began to shrink; shrink inwards, drawing energy inside and reforming until a shimmering, translucent, vaguely-human form stood before you.

I can manage, they announced, and you laughed as they once more swelled, engulfing you once more. 

Good. You snuggled into their gelatinous confines, yawning hugely. We’ve got a lot of planning to do in that case. But first...do you have a name?

Their voice was tremulous, and you were glad you’d finally asked.

Talse.

Talse...two little syllables, easy on your tongue. Talse...wake me up just after sunrise. You’re really comfortable! 

You recognized the thrum of energy in your mind as their laughter, and settled in against their squish. 

Coming home for the summer had been a wonderful plan.

#exophilia #monster lover #monster x reader #monster x human #dewdrop #monsterbait writes #monster match

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter One

Marcy watched the sun slowly set on Newtopia as she’d done many an evening before. The sharp squawks of the gulls rang through the orange sky. She looked quite the forlorn figure standing by the hotel entrance, the gentle evening breeze that ruffled her cloak underscoring her solitude.

Her eyes remained fixated in the same direction her friend had taken off, maybe in some fleeting fool’s hope she’d change her mind and come sprinting back right into her arms.

Not a chance, Marbles.

Anne was long gone by now. Hopefully, she’d caught up with the Plantars’ fwagon before they reached the city gate. Judging by how quickly she booked it, the odds were in her favor. That girl didn’t make varsity back home for nothing.

Marcy only hoped those sweet, simple frogs knew just how lucky they were to have someone like Anne in their lives.

Sighing, her head lowered, she licked her wounds slowly.

Really? That easy, huh?  

Could Anne have made it any more obvious that she wanted to get out of there faster than she did? After they’d been apart for so long, and for a family of farmer frogs whom she’d known for what? Months?

No, don’t do that, she pulled herself up. It wasn’t right for her to be mad at the Plantars. This wasn’t their fault. Sprig and Polly were a barrel of fun at the slumber party, providing you disregarded their life-threatening encounter with the jelly-fish ghosts. Hop Pop, meanwhile, reminded her so much of her own grandpa it was uncanny. They were sweet, decent folk who’d taken Anne in and kept her safe all this time. It was just...

Her lips twisted into a bitter frown. How else was she supposed to feel but a little rejected?

However, was she really allowed to complain when holding her tongue was so normalised for her by this point? Marcy was a people pleaser, she understood that much about herself. Anytime Anne and Sasha got into an argument, she was there to keep the peace and everyone happy. So if Anna-Banana wanted to spend more time with her bumpkin frog family than her literal best friend since preschool, who was she to say no?

The story with her folks wasn’t all that different either. When they pressured her to keep up her studies, up to and including PSAT prep despite it being years away, she did as she was told like a good girl to make them proud, and they were. She hoped they were.

Goodness knows what they must be thinking right now—

Nope nope nope! Don’t go there, don’t go there.

She’d already lost too much sleep at night ruminating over the unspeakable pain she’d most surely put them through, it was the last thing she needed right now. She tried to do the logical thing and focus on the positives instead. That usually worked.

Anne wouldn’t be away for too long. They’d be together again as soon as Hop Pop’s contacts returned the Box to Wartwood and then it was off to the first of the three temples to get those gems recharged. Once that side quest was done and dusted, it was a simple matter of finding Sasha and making their way home.

Looking down, she caught herself wringing her hands.

Home.

That sure was the plan.

I mean... what else are we supposed to do?

“Always sad to see someone go, isn’t it?”

Marcy quickly wiped her eyes and glanced over her shoulder to greet the towering form of King Andrias.

Almost instantly, her mood perked up a notch. He was the one person whom she trusted, more than anyone else in all of Amphibia. Ever since she first landed outside the city walls, he took her under his wings and ensured her smooth transition into this brave new world.

Andrias was without doubt one of the kindest and wisest people Marcy could have ever hoped to meet. He was a true listener, and there were very few you could say that about, her parents included. How often had he been there to lend both an understanding ear and sage advice over games of flipwart?

Games she won more often than not, she wasn’t humble enough not to brag.

It was also he who sent Marcy on the daring missions that would eventually make her the hero of Newtopian society she was today. All because he recognised the value of her talents beyond passing an exam or helping her friends with their homework. No other 13-year-old had their own solid gold statue adorning a city bridge.

She owed this king a debt she couldn’t possibly repay, but one he was far too altruistic in nature to demand.

Then, why did he look so... solemn?

“Come along, Marcy. We need to talk.”

Maybe it was his serious tone of voice or those specific choice of words, but they made the hair on the back of Marcy’s neck stand on end. In an almost pavlovian manner, she corrected her posture and she held her chin erect.

Shoving whatever remaining conflicted thoughts aside, she silently followed Andrias back to the castle like a pilot fish tailing its great white. She was so puny next to this tremendous salamander, he could crush her with a single blow of his fist if he so chose. Not that a gentle, goofy giant like Andrias would even dream of doing such a thing.

So when he was dead serious, Marcy knew better to zip it, listen, and do as instructed.

Their quiet journey took them all the way back to the castle and into the royal throne room, a place she was all too familiar with by now. To enter this hallowed hall was a privilege bestowed only to a select few. For Marcy, it was where she had her morning debriefs over bugachinos.

Instead of going straight up to the throne for their pow wow as she anticipated, Andrias guided her down a small passageway to their left.

When they made their way up to the statue of what Marcy recognised as one of his ancestors, one of the great rulers of Amphibia, they came to a stop. Andrias then gazed down at her with the most serious look she’d seen him give anyone.

“Marcy, before we go any further,” he spoke sternly, “I need to be absolutely crystal clear about something. Okay?”

“Y-Yes, Andrias?” Marcy asked, shivering a little. She did not like being pulled out of her comfort zone, not like this.

“You’re about to enter the most secret place in all of Newtopia,” he continued, now down on one knee and his hand hovering over her shoulder, as close as they could be to eye level. “What I’m going to show you... I need you to swear you won’t share with another living soul. Not to Anne, not to Lady Olivia, no one. Do you understand? I can’t emphasise this enough, Marcy.”

“Of course,” she answered earnestly, trying to sound more confident. “You know you can always trust me, Andrias.”

A ghost of that warm, fatherly smile returned to his big blue countenance.

“Trust is a hard thing to come by, kid, and you’ve gone above and beyond to earn mine. It’s just that I’m not exaggerating here when I say this is a big one.”

Marcy simply placed one hand over his huge index, the other over her heart.

She smiled back at him sweetly, genuinely, “I promise.”

“Very well.”

Nodding in approval, Adrias rose. He reached out, pushing a luminous coral torch upwards.

It didn’t take an encyclopedic knowledge of ‘Creatures & Caverns’ for Marcy to predict that the statue was going to shift to the left next, revealing the spiralling staircase leading to Frog knows where. She probably should’ve been more surprised, but come on, it wasn’t exactly the first secret passage she’d come across in this castle lately. 

“Follow me,” was all Andrias said, before he pulled off the same coral torch, then proceeded down the stairs without another word. Marcy followed obediently, unable to ignore the unnerving chill that was now travelling up her spine.

Was it... always this cold around here?

Something about all this just felt so unsettling compared to last time. She couldn’t really explain why; she knew she was safe with Andrias and that he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way. It was a gut feeling and that sort of thing bugged a rational person like her to no end.

She tried to take her mind off it by hazarding her best guess as to precisely what he was going to show her. Either she did that or started getting all worked up dwelling on Anne again, which she’d rather not at the moment.

Another secret library, perhaps? Probably not, though she wouldn’t be at all disappointed if it was. Maybe there were forbidden texts about the dark arts hidden away down there. Magic users were incredibly rare in Amphibia these days—Marcy had already searched far and wide—so might this be her chance?

Oh, how the very idea of being able to cast actual magic excited her. Being Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard was a great honor and nothing to sneeze at, but to be a powerful sorceress, one who could communicate with spirits, raise the dead, shuffle the orifices on her enemy’s faces—

Okay, rein those snails in, Mar-Mar.

Her musings were interrupted by a strange noise emanating from below. At first she figured it was just her imagination, but the further they continued their descent, the clearer it became.

It sounded an awful lot like beeping. Yes, that was it. A progressively growing cacophony of bleeps, bloops and chirps, the kind she’d expect to hear from a high-tech supercomputer. Something absolutely alien in a world like Amphibia, she and her friends excluded.

Before Marcy could ask Andrias if he heard it too, she was distracted by the emergence of an orange glow chasing away the darkness below. It was a warm, almost heavenly light that conjured the mental image of a crackling fireplace on Christmas morning, protecting you from the snowstorm outside.

The chill in her spine had by now spread to the crown of her head and the tips of her toes. Her throat tightened up. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her forehead.

What the... Marcy could not say a word, only think.

There was something down there. Something greater than any library, however inconceivable that sounded. Whether it was good or bad was irrelevant to her at that moment.

It called her.

The duo finally reached the foot of the staircase and entered the sacred sanctum.

Marcy’s jaw dropped.

“Woah.”

There were no shelves of books. No ancient Amphibian artifacts. There weren’t even any walls that she could make out from where she stood. Just an apparently endless sea of darkness encompassing a large round platform from which both the enticing glow and the lowkey din of beeps originated.

Marcy resumed taking Andrias’ lead as they stepped out onto the platform, the clink-clank of their boots confirming her assumption it was made of metal. The whole thing appeared more at home on an alien spaceship than in the dungeons of a castle.

Upon arriving at its centre, Andrias knelt down on both knees and, much to Marcy’s curiosity, removed his crown and set it down on the floor. She took the hint by following suit.

Any lingering fears melted away the more she basked herself in the radiance. It was as if the beams were steadily pouring into her body, clearing up her headspace, reducing any tension in her body. She recalled a favored memory from when she was five-years-old, when she and Anne spent a whole summer afternoon by the beach. How the tides would come in and out without fail, washing away the ruins of their sandcastles, the seaweed, one of Anne’s sandles and the teeny tiny baby seahorse they rescued.

Like a nice blank canvas.

Was this a private place of worship? Not according to her expansive studies of Amphibian anthropology. Or maybe it was a place for Andrias to meditate away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Seemed a skosh excessive if that was the case.

“Truly captivating, I know.”

Andrais’ baritone brought Marcy back down to earth. She straightened up and tried to refocus herself. They were down here for an important reason, at least she believed they were.

“One can spend hours down here,” Andrias boomed ominously. “Adrift in their own thoughts and... dreams.” The light cast his face in a rather unnerving shadow as he stared ahead into the void. “But I’m sure you know I haven’t brought you here to show off my retreat from the world.” He took a long, deep breath, like he was mentally steeling himself for what he said next, “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Marcy.”

He produced from his sleeve what appeared at first glance to be two giant pieces of parchment and unfolded them neatly on the metal surface. A closer inspection told Marcy they were in fact pages torn from an exceptionally large book. Judging not only by the size, but the font and format as well, she easily pieced together its origin.

“Are these...?”

“From the book we “found” in the wing?” Andrias chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes. Still kinda surprised you didn’t pick up there were pages missing, but that's not important right now. Please, read.”

The platform provided ideal reading light. Marcy’s ability to read at a 12th Grade level meant she cruised through the text and finished within minutes.

She read it once, then twice. A third and fourth time just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

Her bottom began to tremble.

No... Nononono, this... this can’t be right. I-It’s impossible! How in the world can it...?!

No amount of curative rays could unfreeze the blood in her veins. The metaphorical pistons in her brain were firing on full cylinders in a vain attempt to digest this earth-shattering information. For a split second, she thought she was going to pass out.

Desperate, she turned to the stone-faced Andrias to plead for some kind of answer, but she found no words with which to speak. All the personal growth and development that made her Newtopia’s champion had been stripped of her and she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless lost toddler.

A comforting set of giant digits placed themselves under her chin, the same way a father would do for his daughter.

“All this time, I’ve been testing you,” Andrias told her, his voice full of pride. “The games of flipwart, the missions, the “secret library”, even the barbari-ant colony I had lured to the city. I was watching you, studying your every action. With each challenge I issued, you excelled my expectations. You’re an exceptionally talented human being, Marcy, truly worthy of the name ‘Wu’.”

Even if these words were meant to serve as comfort or encouragement, they had only the opposite effect for Marcy. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.

She mustered only a pitiful whimper, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he promised, “you will soon enough. He’s so excited to meet you.”

“... He?”

Lifting his mighty hand in the air, he thrusted it into the nothingness facing them. Marcy instinctively followed its direction.

“Marcy Wu,” Andrias’ thundering voice resonated throughout the sanctuary, “allow me to introduce you... to my master.”

No sooner had he finished, the whole world started to tremble at Marcy’s knees, throwing her off her balance. A rumbling, mechanical ROAR struck her ears so loud she had to cover them to protect the drums from rupture. Yet despite this sensory assault, she somehow forced her eyes to stay wide open. She needed to face whatever was coming.

Marcy gazed into the abyss.

And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.

Terror. Pure mounting terror overwhelmed every cell of her being. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. If her mouth stretched any wider, her jaw risked snapping clean off its hinges.

Everything around her faded into black. Andrias, the platform and its glow, the beeping, all vanished into the ether. All now that existed were herself and those colossal demonic eyes plucked from the deepest recesses of her nightmares, their leer burrowing into her very soul.

Marcy wanted to scream until she coughed up her lungs. Moreso, she just wanted to wake up. This was all a dream, it had to be. A lucid dream that had gone on for far too long. She and her friends weren’t in another dimension inhabited by talking frogs, such a notion was a scientific absurdity. She sure as heck wasn’t a ranger in some anthropomorphic newt army.

Any moment now, her wizard kitty alarm would ring and she’d wake up in her soft, cozy bed. Dad would have left for work by now, planting a goodbye kiss on her sleeping forehead as he did every morning since she was little. Mom would be already making her her favorite congee rice and youtiao for breakfast. Then she would begin the process of packing up her room for the big move to Oregon like a good girl.

Yes, she would even happily do that. Anything to bring an end to this ordeal!

Shhhh

Her train of thought screeched to a sudden halt.

Marcy

It’s gonna be okay

And just like that, as if those were the five magic words required, everything was fine again. No more panic, no more existential terror. Her heart rate lowered to a steady, non-life threatening level.

The tide had risen up and washed Marcy’s mind clean.

Like a nice blank canvas.

What quickly followed was an epiphany of sorts.

There was nothing for her to fear. Once she accepted that fact, the warm sensation from before returned greater than ever, engulfing her in what could only be described as a spiritual hug. She could feel the pair of hands, tender as her own mother’s, caressing her face and flicking away her tears. They even ruffled her raven hair in the same playful manner.

Come to me, daughter of Wu

Let me get a good look at you

Marcy obeyed. Getting down on all fours, she crawled across the nonexistent ground—the laws of physics evidently had no place here—until her face and the eyes’ chief pupil were within inches of each other.

Fresh tears, now ones of ecstasy, trickled down her cheeks and evaporated in the pulsating heat.

“You’re beautiful.”

I know

We’ve gotta lot to talk about, Marcy

And I have a feeling...

You and I are gonna become the best of friends

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