A fusion between books and ice

by The_Gen0

Summary:

This is an idea I had about Simon petrikov in adventure time ever since Fionna and Cake that I REALLY wanted to express. So, I made this and leaving the possibility to make future chapters explaining this fusion or continuing it. This does take place after Fionna and Cake though. Hope you enjoy!

Notes:

• Inspired by Adventure Time by Pendleton Ward

Chapter 1: Pilot

Simon stood in the bathroom, the faint hum of the old electric light buzzing above him. His toothbrush flicked rhythmically in his mouth, minty foam bubbling at the corners of his lips. He leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Blue skin. Pale, like morning frost on a windowpane. Sharp, gentle eyes of light blue, peeking through round, neatly cleaned glasses. His white hair, thick and wavy, cascaded down his head, framing his face. Lightning-shaped eyebrows gave him an odd, almost dramatic look — a recent addition that had appeared without warning.

He finished brushing, rinsed his mouth, and wiped the leftover foam from his chin. Carefully, he adjusted his red bowtie, making sure it sat perfectly centered against his crisp, buttoned white shirt. His dark suit fit neatly, the sleeves just barely brushing his cool, pale wrists.

Simon’s fingers combed through his white hair, making sure it was even, perfectly brushed. He needed it to be smooth, light — his ticket to the skies. He glanced at the small jar of hair gel on the counter, but it stayed untouched. He didn’t need it. Not with how his hair moved now, each strand almost weightless, ready to lift him whenever he wanted.

A few quick touches to his glasses, wiping the last bit of dust off the lenses. He placed them on his face, and the world snapped into sharp, clear focus.

He should’ve been out the door by now, his little museum in Up-Ton wouldn’t run itself. But as his hand reached for the doorknob, he paused. His gaze drifted back to the mirror.

Simon Petrikov stared at Simon Petrikov.

Or was he?

There he was — that same antiquarian from a lifetime ago. The same man who once taught history, who wore his glasses just like this, who wore suits and bowties because they made him feel distinguished. The same man who used to love to share stories about ancient civilizations, who would’ve gladly spent his days surrounded by dusty old books and eager students.

But now he was so much more. Or maybe… something else entirely.

He leaned closer to the mirror, his blue fingers touching the cold glass. This was him, wasn’t it? The man staring back? This was Simon Petrikov. He was still that awkward, sweet history buff who loved exploring forgotten relics and sharing his passion for knowledge.

But now he could fly.

Now he could conjure ice at will, his fingertips leaving a faint, frosty trace as they pressed against the mirror.

Now he could feel the hum of magic beneath his skin, the gentle, quiet pulse of power waiting to be used.

He was strong. Not just magically, but physically. His suit hid the subtle but defined muscle he’d developed — the remnants of Ice King’s absurd strength now his own. He could bench press with ease, lift weights that he never would’ve dreamed of back when he was just Simon.

And he could play the drums. His hands remembered the rhythm, the muscle memory of Ice King’s manic, wild music now a part of him. Sometimes he’d catch himself tapping his fingers to a beat, a subtle, quiet reminder of the other life that still lingered in his mind.

His eyebrows — sharp, lightning-like streaks, giving him a look of intensity, of something almost… regal. His white hair, wild and free, his ticket to the skies whenever he wished to soar.

But he wasn’t mad. He wasn’t rambling, confused, chasing imaginary princesses or raving about stories that never happened.

He was Simon. Wasn’t he?

Or was this someone else? Someone new?

Was this his final form? His definitive self?

Simon Petrikov, the magical antiquarian. A historian who could bend the frost and snow to his will. A quiet, shy man who could become a commanding, dominating figure in the embrace of the woman he loved. A scholar who could wield the cold like a weapon, but also as a brush to create beauty.

Was that too many pieces? Or was this just… who he had become?

His fingers trembled slightly against the glass, leaving thin trails of frost that melted within moments.

“Is this… is this me?” he whispered, his voice a faint, cold breath against the mirror. “Or… am I just a collection of all the people I’ve been?”

He felt that familiar knot tighten in his chest, a quiet fear pressing against his ribs. He remembered the Ice King, that rambling, lonely man desperate for love and friendship. He remembered the madness, the endless days of confusion, his penguin Gunther, and losing himself to the crown’s whispers.

But he also remembered being Simon Petrikov — the man who had loved Betty, who had spent his life studying the ancient world, who had fought so hard to protect Marceline when the world burned.

Now he was both. And neither. A survivor. A magical being. A man trying to live a life that was somehow his own.

But which was the real Simon?

He didn’t know. Not yet.

But he couldn’t be late.

With a slow, steady breath, Simon turned away from the mirror, pushing the question aside for now. His white hair fluttered gently, his steps light as he moved through the hallway, grabbing his black satchel and slipping it over his shoulder. The chilly morning air greeted him as he stepped outside, and with a quiet, instinctive thought, his hair lifted, catching the breeze, and his body rose gracefully off the ground.

The forest below drifted away, the treetops swaying gently as he soared. Up-Ton loomed above, a vast, floating city of sleek towers and shimmering blue lights. He could see the hovercrafts lazily drifting between the city’s towering spires, tiny dots in the distant sky.

As he ascended, his thoughts still churned. The question wouldn’t leave him.

Is this the definitive version of me?

Was he a magical powerhouse who could protect those he loved? Was he a gentle, nerdy historian who simply wanted to share his passion for knowledge? Was he a powerful lover who could make Minerva’s heart race with a single icy touch? Was he still the quiet, caring man who had once been willing to lose everything to protect a little girl in a ruined world?

Could he be all of that?

Should he be all of that?

The wind brushed against his face, the cold air a gentle, comforting touch against his skin. He let it carry him higher, the sprawling expanse of Up-Ton growing closer, his little antique museum just barely visible in the distance.

Maybe he didn’t need an answer yet. Maybe he’d find it with time.

For now, he just wanted to be Simon Petrikov.

Whoever that was.

Chapter 2: How it all began...

Simon Petrikov's life was going fine.

It had been little over a month since his multiversal travels with Fionna and Cake, since he saw betty one last time. Since he gave up trying to be something he isn't.

The kettle hissed softly on the stove, and Simon poured the steaming water into his chipped, sea-foam mug, letting it steep. He didn’t rush. There was no one else here. No crown. No madness. No Betty. Just him.

Just Simon.

He shuffled back to the couch, blanket dragging behind him like a sleepy cape. The late afternoon sun filtered through the smudged windows in amber slants, making everything look old and warm. Dust floated in the beams. Faint. Harmless.

The couch groaned as he sank into it, tea balanced on a stack of books he kept as an impromptu table. The remote was already in his lap, right where he left it. He pressed play.

The Cheers theme filtered through the speakers.

"Sometimes you wanna go..."

Simon hummed along, out of tune but content. He knew all the lines. All the punchlines. There was something comforting about how nothing ever really changed in this show. Just people, talking, laughing, being kind. Sometimes they fought. But no one forgot who they were.

Simon leaned back, mug warming his hands, and sighed deeply.

He’d recently moved out of Up-ton. Couldn’t take it anymore—the way people looked at him. The whispers, the not-so-quiet comments. Some tried to be kind, but it was always tinged with pity or suspicion.

"How’s your head, Simon?"
"You sure you're not... y’know... still in there somewhere?"

He couldn't breathe in that place.

So he left. Found this run-down little house near the woods. It wasn’t much, but it was his. He painted the kitchen. Built a crooked birdhouse. Wrote some weird short stories that no one would ever read. No magic. No royalty. No crowns.

He even stopped having dreams about her. About Betty.

For the first time in what felt like centuries, Simon dared to think... maybe this was it.

Maybe he was finally allowed to live.

Maybe he could-

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The knock shattered the peace instantly.

 

Simon sat bolt upright, his tea sloshing over his hand. He blinked toward the door, confusion quickly curdling into anxiety.

He stood, slow and cautious, and peeked through the curtain as he adjusted his glasses. Three Candy citizens. All younger. Hardened expressions. They weren’t selling cookies.

His pulse quickened. No reason to panic. Probably some misunderstanding.

He opened the door just a crack. “C-Can I help you?”

"You’re Simon Petrikov, right?" the tallest one asked. Too casually.

Simon’s throat tightened. “Yes…?”

"You used to be that-THAT thing, Huh!"

Simon blinked, heart dropping at the tone. "I was. I’m not anymore.”

"Funny," another sneered. "Looks like you’re doing just fine out here. Comfortable."

“I don’t—I just want to be left alone,” Simon said. “Please.”

But the tallest one’s smile twisted. “Yeah. We figured you’d say that.”

The door crashed open.

Simon staggered back, but they were already inside—hands grabbing, fists swinging. His head cracked against the floor. He barely registered the kicks, the angry shouting—something about their parents, their siblings, what he’d done.

"You think you can just go back to being normal?!" One Candy citizen spat as he kicked Simon's shin.

"You think you can just forget what you did to me. TO MY WIFE YOU CREEP!" another punch to the ribs.

Simon fell to the floor with a thud, tried and beaten with blood from his mouth and nose, his glasses probably disguarded somewhere in the fight. "P-please." Simon pleaded weakly, attempting to stand. "I-i was out of m-my min-" "Pick him up". Two of the candy citizens held the brusied antiquarian by the arms, holding up his body for the final blow as the third candy citizen pulled out a knife.

"No. No, No, No, No please!! Please don'-" PLSSKK!!!.

The pain bloomed throughout his torso, his buttoned shirt already red.

It was quick. Too quick. A flash of hot, searing agony.

Then—everything stopped.

 

Simon woke with a ragged gasp.

The house was freezing.

He sat up—no pain, no wound, just cold—impossibly cold. His breath came out in plumes. His fingers trembled violently as he pushed himself up on the couch.

The floor crunched beneath him.

Snow.

There was snow in his house. Thick layers of it covering the floor, the furniture, the broken coffee mug, the blood. It coated the walls like frostbite. The TV flickered in and out of static.

His blanket was frozen solid beside him.

Simon blinked. Blinked again.

“No,” he whispered, already shaking his head. “No, no no—please—”

His reflection in the black screen of the TV showed faint glowing blue eyes. They flickered, unstable. His breath caught in his throat.

“I was done,” he said, voice rising. “I was DONE! I was living—I was okay—I WAS—”

He collapsed forward, fingers clawing into the snow.

It wasn’t fair.

He had done everything. He had survived. He had let her go. He had given up the crown. He had given up magic. He’d been Simon again.

And yet here he was.

Icy wind curled through the cracks in the house, howling like a ghost. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, something laughed.

Not cruelly.

Not even knowingly.

Just… distant.

Detached.

Simon clutched his head with both hands and screamed into the frozen dark.

Notes:

"However it has to happen. I wish for the power to keep Simon safe."

Chapter 3: Echoes of Her

Summary:

Simon realizes something soul-crushing about his predicament. And Finn stumbles into his mess.

The storm inside him hadn’t stopped. It just… quieted. Enough for him to move.

The silence in the house was no longer peaceful. It was the silence of something gone wrong. Snow drifted lazily through the broken doorway. The wind outside had calmed, but the air remained sharp, sterile, like hospital rooms and old memories.

Simon stumbled toward the front hallway, still in a daze, hands jittering uncontrollably.

That’s when he saw them.

Three forms, half-buried in frost and ice, frozen mid-motion.

The Candy citizens.

One with an arm up, as if to shield themselves. Another sprawled near the stairs, expression twisted in a final scream. Their bodies weren’t shattered or bloodied—just… still. Frozen like sculptures, like sad, unfinished thoughts.

Simon dropped to his knees with a grunt, breath catching in his throat. He reached out toward the nearest one, fingers hovering just shy of touching.

“No,” he whispered. “No no no no—please.”

His hand brushed the frost-covered shoulder. It didn’t move.

He had done this. Or… the thing inside him had. The thing he thought was gone.

Terror cracked open something deeper. Not just fear. Guilt.

He backed away fast, slipping on the snow, catching himself on the edge of the wall. His fingers left streaks in the frost, like a child clawing at glass.

His hand trembled as it went to his stomach, to where the knife had pierced him. His sweater was torn, damp and crusted—but underneath?

Nothing.

No blood.

No pain.

No wound.

Just pale, unmarked skin. Faint blue veins glowing underneath like cracks in porcelain. Not a scratch.

“Betty,” he choked, barely able to say her name. “You said you’d—you said you’d keep me safe.”

The room felt heavier, like the very air was remembering her.

However it has to happen…

The words came back, jagged and sharp.

The wish.

He hadn’t thought about it in so long. He hadn’t wanted to. But now—

That’s what this was. This thing clawing its way out of him. The transformation, the madness, the ice. Betty’s wish, triggered by death. Her final gift had loopholed itself into a prison.

Keep Simon safe.

No matter the cost.

"AHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Simon screamed again—raw, hoarse, from the deepest part of him—and struck the wall with his fist. Ice spider-webbed out from the impact. He pulled back like it had bitten him.

He sank down onto the frozen floor, pulling his knees to his chest, shaking like a leaf in winter.

“I’m not free,” he whispered. “I’m not—I’m still not—”

He covered his ears, rocking slightly, as if he could shut it all out. The cold. The silence. The bodies. The ghost of her voice in his head.

“I’m still the monster.”

'Outside Simon's house'

Finn bounded up through the woods with a practiced rhythm, boots crunching into the thick grass. The late afternoon sun glinted off the edge of his metal arm as he flexed the wrist, rolling the joint loose. He hadn’t been this excited in weeks.

“Simon’s gonna flip,” he said aloud, grinning. “Just like old times. A new quest! Ice magic or not, dude’s still got it.”

He clutched a half-folded flyer in his hand—some weird cosmic anomaly had popped up near Wizard City. Classic multiverse funk. Finn figured Simon would want in, maybe even need it. He hadn't seen the guy since his multiversal adventure wrapped. Time to change that.

As he approached the crooked little house nestled beneath frost tip trees? something in his gut shifted. The snow was off. Too deep. Too clean. And it was still falling—but only here.

“...Huh.”

The door was open.

No—not open. Blasted inward.

Finn’s smile faltered. He stepped closer, slowly, warily.

“Simon?” he called, voice echoing off the twisted trees. “Yo! You alive in there?”

No answer.

Finn stepped over the shattered frame, his metal foot clanking against the frozen threshold. His breath immediately fogged. The temperature was unreal—this wasn’t weather. This was magic.

He raised his bionic arm, fingers whirring into gear. The tips twisted, shifted, then locked into a gleaming circular blade. He revved it once, just in case.

Inside, the house was silent. Still. The kind of stillness that comes after something breaks.

Snow covered everything.

The couch, overturned. The TV, cracked and flickering. Shelves bowed under frost. And in the middle of it all—

Three frozen bodies.

Candy citizens, mid-motion, caught in terror. Finn’s stomach dropped. His hand lowered.

“No way,” he muttered. “No no no no…”

He moved forward slowly, eyes scanning, dread crawling up his spine like ice water.

That’s when he saw him.

Curled near the wall, buried beneath layers of snow, was Simon.

His coat was soaked. His hands, trembling. His face buried in his knees, shoulders hitching with every ragged, uneven sob. The ice around him had the fractured, shimmering look of something alive. Like it had breathed out of him.

Finn stared, unblinking.

This wasn’t the Simon he knew. Not the awkward, slightly grumpy history guy. Not even the traumatized but gentle soul he’d helped.

This was a man undone.

“...Simon?” Finn whispered, voice cracking.

Simon flinched. Slowly, he looked up—and Finn staggered back a step.

His eyes. That awful glow. Flickering blue like a dying fire.

“F-Finn…?” Simon’s voice was hoarse, barely audible. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Finn took a tentative step forward, lowering the blade, heart racing. “Dude. What happened?”

Simon blinked at him, like he couldn’t quite understand the question.

Then he looked toward the frozen Candy citizens. His eyes welled again. He looked back at Finn, something like a sob trapped in his throat.

“I killed them,” he whispered. “I became him again.”

And Finn—mighty hero of Ooo, slayer of monsters, traveler of dimensions—could only stand there in stunned silence, the cold drowning Finn in Simon's sadness.

Finn’s boots crunched on the snow as he stepped closer to the broken antiquarian, but something in his body hesitated—an old reflex. He didn’t want it to be there, but it was.

That tiny part of him that remembered Ice King.

Not Simon, the man he'd gotten to know—awkward, broken, kind beneath the guilt.

But Ice King. The raving mess of a wizard who stole princesses. Who shattered friendships. Who was once more force of chaos than person.

And now... now Simon was sitting in a crater of his own making, snow swirling gently around the ruin, his breath visible, his hands bloody with frost.

Finn’s spinning blade retracted with a soft click, folding back into a fist. His fingers twitched.

“Simon,” he said again, quieter now, as if talking too loud would set something off.

Simon looked up, expression raw and trembling.

“I didn’t want this,” he whispered. “I didn’t choose this.”

Finn swallowed. His hand curled into a fist at his side.

“Then what is this?” he asked, gently—but the strain was there in his voice, the bite he didn’t mean to let through. “Simon, they’re frozen. That’s Ice King stuff. That's—”

“I know!” Simon snapped, voice cracking. “I know, Finn! I woke up and they were just—gone. I didn’t even mean to—” He pressed both hands to his temples, rocking. “I didn’t feel it happen. I didn’t feel it at all.”

A gust of wind slid through the broken door behind Finn, scattering snow like ash across the frozen floor.

Finn clenched his jaw. He wanted to go to him. Wrap his arms around Simon, tell him it wasn’t his fault, that they’d fix it like they always did.

But he couldn’t ignore the way the ice crawled toward his boots.

Or the way Simon’s breath still shimmered faintly blue.

Or how those glowing eyes hadn’t fully dimmed.

He took a slow, careful step backward.

Simon saw it.

And his heart broke all over again.

“You’re afraid of me.”

Finn opened his mouth—but no words came out.

Simon laughed, a horrible, wet sound that cracked mid-way. “It’s okay. You should be. I don’t even know what I am anymore.”

The air thickened again—like the house was watching them.

“I thought I was free,” Simon whispered. “I thought she saved me. But I’m still his body. His ghost. I’m just the part that remembers who we used to be.”

Finn looked down at his hands—at the sword sheathed at his hip, the flyer in his pocket. The promise of an adventure that now seemed impossibly far away.

He looked up again. Simon was watching him, hollow-eyed.

“Are you gonna stop me?” Simon asked. “If I lose control again?”

Finn hesitated. “I... I don’t know.”

It was the truth. And it hurt.

Because in his heart, Finn knew he wasn’t here as a hero. He was here as a friend.

But friends weren’t supposed to be scared.

Notes:

SIKKKKKEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! heres an extra upload!

Chapter 4: The Offer

Summary:

Finn decides to help Simon with his issues, deciding to get PB for help. Yet trouble, Ice, and madness gets in the way.

The silence stretched between them, sharp and aching. Only the soft sound of falling snow filled the gaps—snow that shouldn’t exist, in a house that shouldn’t be this cold, wrapped around a man who shouldn’t still be cursed.

Finn shifted his weight. His instincts screamed a thousand different things: fix it, run, fight, hug. He wasn’t sure which voice to follow.

Simon had stopped crying, but his eyes were vacant now, rimmed red and glassy. He looked like someone who’d already accepted a sentence no one had said out loud.

“I think…” Finn began, voice careful, fragile, “…we should go see PB.”

Simon didn’t react. Just blinked slowly, like the words hadn’t landed.

Finn stepped forward, one hand slightly raised—not touching, just reaching.

“She’s been studying magic stuff again. Relucantly. Multiverse stabilizers, soul fragments, all that crunchy brain biz. If anyone can figure out what’s happening to you—if this… Ice King trigger thing is some leftover crown magic, or Betty’s wish, or something else—she could help.”

Simon’s eyes finally met his.

“Help?” he asked, bitter. “She couldn’t stop the crown. She couldn’t stop him. And she couldn’t stop Betty. You think she can stop what’s left of me?”

Finn swallowed. “I don’t know, man. But you don’t have to figure it out alone.”

That did something. Simon flinched like the word alone had struck bone.

He looked down at his hands—red and pale, fingertips crusted with frostbite scars that hadn’t been there yesterday. Slowly, he pulled his knees in tighter.

“I’m dangerous, Finn.”

“So’s fire,” Finn said softly, “but we still build homes around it.”

Simon barked out a laugh—sharp, humorless.

“I froze three people alive.”

Finn’s expression darkened, but he didn’t back up this time. He knelt in front of Simon, just out of arm’s reach, his bionic hand slowly curling into a more human shape.

“I know,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But it doesn't mean their dead.”

Simon shook his head, eyes welling again. “They’ll never forgive me.”

“Maybe not,” Finn said honestly. “But I’m not giving up on you. And I don’t think Bubblegum will either.”

Simon was silent for a long moment.

Then: “...If I go back, they’ll lock me up.”

“If they try,” Finn said, voice low but steady, “they’ll have to get through me first.”

That silenced whatever protest was building in Simon’s throat.

For a moment, the wind outside calmed. The snow drifted slower.

“…Okay,” Simon said finally, barely audible.

Finn stood slowly and extended his hand.

Simon stared at it. At the warmth in it. At the risk.

Then, trembling, he took it.

And the two of them, surrounded by ice and ghosts, stepped out into the cold together.

Before they left, Finn knew he couldn’t—wouldn’t—just walk past the frozen bodies.

He moved carefully, his bionic hand glowing faintly now, switching to heat mode with a soft hum. Simon stood a few steps back, silent, watching like a man witnessing his own autopsy.

Finn knelt beside the first Candy citizen, lips pressed into a line.

“I’m not leaving them like this,” he muttered. “We don’t do that.”

Simon said nothing.

Finn gently placed his palm near the base of the citizen’s neck, letting the warmth pulse slow and steady. The ice hissed, melted, cracked. Color returned to the sugar-glazed skin, limbs twitching slightly as breath returned to them.

It took minutes—but it worked.

The citizen gasped awake, coughing, eyes wide in terror.

Finn held up both hands. “It’s okay! You’re safe! No one’s gonna hurt you.”

The other two he thawed just as carefully, one at a time. Each one woke in a panic. Each one recognized Simon.

And each one reacted exactly how Simon feared they would.

“You!” the tallest hissed, grabbing a chair leg from the shattered kitchen. “You freak! You lied! You said it was gone!”

“Wait—wait—STOP!” Finn shouted, stepping between them. “He’s not—I’m with him! He’s okay!”

But they didn’t care. Rage didn’t listen to reason.

One of them rushed past Finn, fast and reckless, blade in hand—the same knife from before. Finn reached out, too late.

The blade slashed across Simon’s ribs.

Simon gasped. The wound wasn’t deep—but it didn’t need to be.

His eyes flared bright blue.

The air shattered.

A burst of wind slammed through the room, knocking everyone flat. Ice bloomed outward in a violent pulse, curling up the walls, frosting over the ceiling in seconds.

“Simon?” Finn shouted, coughing against the chill. “Simon—don’t!”

But Simon was already gone.

Or—no.

Not gone.

He was standing now. Shoulders squared. Head tilted. The Ice King's grin unfurled slowly, like a curtain being drawn back on an old, forgotten play.

“Ohhh buddy!” the Ice King chirped, his voice high and sing-songy. “Is that you, Finn the Human?”

Finn froze, eyes wide. The voice. The posture. The giddy madness. It was all there.

“I—I just got here,” Ice King said, arms spread like he was about to hug the world. “Is this isn't my house, This isn't my kingdom! Have any of you seen Gunther? he's usually the man of the house whenever I leave.”

He looked around, blinking at the frost-covered destruction with amused confusion.

Then he saw the Candy citizens.

His eyes narrowed.

“Ohhhh hold up, time out! your the Goobers who tried to jump me!”Ice king announced as Ice flared at his fingertips.

“Simon!” Finn shouted, stepping in front of them. “Stop—don’t—you’re not—this isn’t YOU!”

The Ice King blinked at him, suddenly curious.

“Me? What’s not me? I’m always me. Unless I’m not. Then who are you, huh? Finn? My friend? Or maybe you’re a banana guard in disguise!” He gasped. “Is that why you never call anymore!?”

Finn’s heart thundered.

He’s in there, he thought. Simon’s still in there somewhere.

But he didn’t know how long he had before the Ice King buried him again.

“Okay, okay!” Finn said quickly, forcing his voice into a cheerful tone, heart pounding as he stood between the Ice King and the cowering Candy citizens. “Let’s not start throwing ice blasts! No freeze-zaps! No screamy-storms! Let’s just... take a trip!”

Ice King blinked, confused. “Trip? Like a fun field trip? Do we get matching shirts?? Oh! Are we going to Wizard City again? I haven’t been banned in weeks!”

Finn forced a grin, sweat beading on his brow. “Nah, man. Better. I was thinking—how about the Candy Kingdom?”

Ice King gasped.

“Princess Bubblegum! I haven’t seen her in forever! Maybe she finally got my love sonnets—”

Finn coughed. “Not a romance thing, bro. Just, like, a ‘let’s go see old friends’ kind of thing. Real chill. Super casual.”

The Ice King wobbled his head side to side, considering it. “Hmm… no kidnapping?”

“Nope.”

“No creepy puppets?”

“Please don’t.”

“…Can I carry you like a little guy?”

Finn gave a strained laugh. “Sure, man. Carry me like a little guy.”

“Ohhhhhhh YEAH!” Ice King whooped, spinning in a gleeful circle. “I love carrying people!”

He lunged forward, grabbing Finn under the arms like a proud uncle scooping up a toddler.

Finn’s legs dangled awkwardly in the air, his face deadpan. “This is deeply undignified.”

“ONWARD TO BUBBLEGUM!” Ice King roared, flinging his massive white beard like wings. The beard stretched and flapped, absurdly majestic, gathering gusts of wind beneath it.

And just like that, they were airborne.

Below, the Candy citizens shouted in protest, throwing snowballs and shaking their fists. Ice King stuck out his tongue as they ascended.

“NO INVITATIONS FOR YOU!” he bellowed, laughing madly. “Finn and I are going on a royal business expedition!”

Finn, dangling and flinching from icy air whipping past his face, shouted over the wind, “Just—fly fast, man!”

“ALWAYS DO!”

They soared into the sky, trailing glittering frost and wild giggles behind them.

And in the back of Finn’s mind, beneath the freezing air and the chaos and the stupid beard, he could only think:

Hang on, Simon. I’m getting you home.

The wind screamed around them as Ice King soared higher, beard-flaps straining against gravity, carrying Finn over the treetops.

Finn squinted against the gale. “H-hey! We’re not exactly heading straight for the Candy Kingdom anymore—what gives?!”

Ice King didn’t answer right away.

His brow was furrowed. Genuinely thinking, for once.

“This doesn’t feel right,” he mumbled.

Finn tensed. “What doesn’t?”

Ice King twisted mid-air, banking sharply. Finn yelped as they nearly spiraled into a tree.

“I’m using ice magic,” he said, voice slower now. “But my crown… it’s gone. Poof! No bling, no sting. Nada. That’s weird, right?”

Finn’s heart sank. “Yeah. Kinda super weird.”

Ice King scratched at his scalp. “Maybe I left it in the freezer? Or—OH! Maybe Gunther’s wearing it again! That rascal!”

His eyes lit up with sudden, manic inspiration. “WAIT—I’ll just make a new one!”

“Wait—NO—don’t—”

But it was too late.

Mid-air, Ice King's hands crackled with ice magic and conjured a swirling, jagged mass of snow and frost. With the three sharp points and ice--like jewels based off his orginal crown, he shaped it—twisting icy tendrils into a crude, unstable replica of the crown. It hovered above his hand, glowing faintly.

Finn’s eyes went wide.

“That thing’s not stable, man—!”

“Doesn’t need to be!” Ice King chirped. “Just needs to be pretty!”

The moment the icy crown neared his head, the air screeched. The wind turned violent, tugging at Finn’s limbs. Magic crackled through the sky like broken glass.

Finn dangled wildly in his grip. “DUDE, YOU’RE DROPPING ME!”

Ice King looked down, startled—his grip had loosened during the conjuring. Finn was slipping from his arms.

“OH! OOPSIES!”

He dropped the fake crown, letting it shatter into a burst of snowflakes, and lunged to catch Finn with both hands.

He just barely grabbed him by the foot.

Finn flailed upside-down in mid-air, absolutely done.

“I’m gonna hurl,” he muttered. “I’m gonna hurl ice cubes.”

Ice King flipped him back upright, patting his head like a cat.

“Sorry, sorry! My bad. I get so crafty when I’m confused.”

But there was something in his eyes now—something unsettled beneath the mania.

“Why can I use magic?” he asked quietly. “If I don’t have the crown?”

Finn didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know.

Because Simon might be the crown now.

Chapter 5: Whatever It Takes

Summary:

Finn realizes how this is all going down with Simon while talking with PB.

The gates of the Candy Kingdom creaked open, guards stepping forward with wide eyes and spears trembling.

“Is that—”
“Is that the Ice King?!”
“I thought he was gone!”

He was, Finn wanted to yell. But instead, he braced himself as Ice King crash-landed in a plume of snow just outside the gates, beard billowing like a parachute.

“TA-DAAA!” Ice King sang, flinging his arms wide, still holding Finn by the back of his shirt. “Finn the Human, hand-delivered by yours truly! The one! The only! King of Cold, Wizard of Wow, M—”

He swayed.

His eyelids fluttered.

“…Mister Nap Time,” he mumbled, and then—

He dropped like a sack of ice.

“Simon!” Finn dropped to his knees, catching him just before he hit the frozen earth.

Bubblegum’s heels clicked against the cobblestone as she pushed her way through the stunned guards, lab coat flapping. Her hair was tied back in a tight braid, but a few strands had broken loose. She looked pale.

Her voice was sharp. “Finn?! What did you—”

Then she saw him.

The Ice King’s body had begun to change.

His long nose shrank inward with a soft crunch of cartilage. His blue skin faded, replaced by olive tones tinged with gray. His great white beard withered, curling into mist before vanishing entirely. And his hair—brilliant, frizzled white—drained back into Simon’s natural black, though streaks of pale gray clung to his temples like scars.

The heavy, manic breathing slowed.

He was just a man again.

Simon Petrikov, unconscious in Finn’s arms.

Bubblegum stared.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh my glob,” she whispered.

Finn looked up at her, face a swirl of panic and helplessness. “PB… he changed. Not just transformed—he didn’t put on the crown. There is no crown.”

Bubblegum stepped forward, dropping to her knees beside them. She whipped out a small device that resembled a thermal scanner as she scanned Simon’s body, already reaching for her datapad. “No visible wound… but his vitals are fluctuating—his energy levels are unstable. Though the residual ice magic. It’s leaking out of him.”

“Leaking?” Finn echoed.

“He’s not using it,” Bubblegum said. “It’s using him.”

Simon stirred weakly, murmuring something indecipherable.

Finn leaned closer. “What?”

Simon’s lips barely moved.

“…where’s… Betty…?”

Then he went still again.

Bubblegum looked up at Finn, her voice flat but shaken. “Get him inside. Now.”

Simon lay limp on the glowing diagnostic table, still unconscious, a faint puff of cold air escaping his lips with every breath. The machines around him clicked and whirred in strange, uncertain rhythms, as if confused by what they were scanning.

Princess Bubblegum adjusted her visor, scowling at the data on the screen. “I’ve run three scans and none of this makes sense. His DNA is human—mostly—but his magical aura is unstable. It’s flickering in and out of resonance with something ancient. Something wish-based.”

Finn blinked. “Like… magic magic?”

PB gave him a look. “Wish magic. Raw, primal, reality-altering stuff. Something with a direct intent, like the crown before it got corrupted.”

Finn’s brow furrowed. He leaned against the table, looking at Simon’s face—peaceful now, but lined with pain.

And then he remembered.

Not the details, not the science.

But that moment.

Inside GOLB.

'FLASHBACK – THE GUTS OF GOLB, A PLACE OUTSIDE TIME'

Simon screaming. Betty putting the crown on, eyes full of determination.

She must've said something.

She made a wish.

And then—

Everything changed.

'BACK TO THE LAB'

Finn’s eyes widened. “Oh glob.”

Bubblegum looked up sharply. “What?”

“I think—I think Betty made a wish. Inside GOLB. Right before she vanished. The crown went all wishy-woosh and she said something, but—I didn’t hear it. Me and Simon were already out.”

Bubblegum’s face paled. “A GOLB-core wish? That’s not just a magic spell, Finn. That’s rewriting reality.”

Finn stared at Simon.

The Ice King magic. The transformations. The lack of the crown.

“…What if this—all of this—is because of that wish? What if this isn’t a curse or magic accident? What if it’s Betty’s wish trying to help, but, like… all wrong?”

Bubblegum swallowed. “Then we need to know what she said. Exactly what she said.”

Finn nodded, heart pounding. “I’m going to Prismo.”

PB blinked. “You think he’ll tell you?”

“He has to,” Finn said, jaw set. “He’s the Wishmaster. He keeps a record of every wish ever made, right?”

She didn’t argue. Didn’t stop him.

Because she knew he was right.

Finn stepped back from the table and turned toward the shimmering hallway, already pulling his backpack over one shoulder.

He looked back at Simon one more time—this man who’d survived madness, love, loss, and now something stranger.

“Hang tight, dude,” Finn murmured. “I’m gonna figure out what she did. And then we’re gonna make it right.”

Chapter 6: Whatta mean no!?

Summary:

Simon and Finn with the use of the farmworld enchiridion travel to the Time Room for Prismo's help.

The Time Room with its warm yellow light remained clattered with party drinks and snacks the surprisingly bare floor. No cosmic owl in sight, a Lava lamp in the corner where he usually sit at. Reality here felt like a dream held together by vibes and wishful thinking.

Prismo wasn't bothered by the mess from the party, wearing sunglasses indoors—because he could.

Across from him, Finn sat cross-legged on a coach flicking a wrapper. Beside him, Simon stood awkwardly, arms folded tightly across his chest like he was trying to hold himself together.

His eyes were hollow.

“Alrighty,” Prismo said, summoning his floating cosmic remote. “You guys aren’t just dropping in for party snacks, huh?”

Finn shook his head. “We need to know what Betty wished for. In GOLB. Right before she… disappeared.”

Prismo lowered his shades slightly. His smile faded—just a little.

“Ohhh. That wish.”

Simon swallowed hard. He looked sick.

Prismo raised his remote and hit a button marked ↺ REWIND.

one of the walls in the room turned into screen shimmered with static like an actual tv.

FLASHBACK – GOLB’S STOMACH DIMENSION

Betty clutches the Ice Crown on her head, hands are shaking and Simon and Finn already gone.

She whispers “However it has to happen… I wish for the power to keep Simon safe.”

Magic explodes outward.

Betty disappears.

BACK TO TIME ROOM

The image froze.

Simon stared at the screen.

His lips moved without sound. His knees buckled slightly.

He sank onto the cushion beside Finn and buried his face in his hands.

“…She didn’t say ‘make him normal,’” he said, voice raw. “She didn’t say ‘save him from the crown.’ She said… keep him safe.”

Finn’s hand hovered awkwardly over Simon’s shoulder, not sure if it should land.

Simon’s breath hitched. A sob slipped out. “She didn’t know what it would cost. Neither did I.”

Prismo summoned a box of tissues over with a little wiggle. “Hey, man. I get it. Cosmic love wishes? Super messy.”

Simon took the tissues. Didn’t speak. Just wiped his face with trembling fingers.

Prismo let the moment sit. Then, gently—

“I wish I could undo it.”

Simon looked up slowly. “You can’t?”

Prismo winced, shrugging apologetically. “Other people’s wishes are like monkey’s paws dipped in crazy glue. I can’t undo the fine print—especially not GOLB-warped wishes. That stuff is extra cursed.”

Simon looked back at the frozen image of Betty on the screen. Her eyes were bright. Full of love. Full of doom.

“I just want it to stop,” he whispered. “I want the madness to leave me alone. I want to be Simon again. Just Simon.”

Prismo leaned forward on his couch, a little more serious now.

“Wishes like hers don’t fade. They echo. The magic’s still trying to fulfill it—however it has to happen. That’s the clause. That’s the trap.”

Finn finally rested a hand on Simon’s back. “So what do we do?”

Prismo raised a brow.

“I can’t undo the wish,” he said. “Buuuut what I could offer you a solution you probably wouldn't like.”

"W-what I'll do anything!" Simon sniffled clutching the cushion.

Prismo's face braced for impact for what he was about to suggest.

"You could- Maybeeeee accept? Accept Ice king???" Prismo immediately got a cushion to the face, though his pink form just looked annoyed.

"NO! UH AH! NOPE, NOT HAPPENING!" Simon's voice raised along with his body, now clearly apprehensive and standing firm. "I don't want him inside me, I don't want that crown inside me! Ice king, that giggling, princess kidnapping idiot is NOT me!" the antiquarian yelled.

"Well br-" "You teleported me in here when I was butt-ass naked in front of my fanfic characters. Your not my bro Prismo." Simon snapped.

Prismo's blue eyes softened with pity and slight annoyance. "Okay, Simon. You have been Ice king for 1'000 years man, And im sure it has some effect on you even now. So maybe, and hear me out, it be best to accept that as apart of yourself. Like Ice king is just one slice, but Simon petrikov is the whole pie."

Simon looked down at a empty pizza box, staring at the one slice. "But people already just see me as 'Oh look at that sad dude in glasses who used to be Ice king'. Even after I cam back to Ooo it still bothers me, I don't know." Simon said sadly.

Though in the antiquarian's mind, besides obviously not wanting to fail Betty or himself, there was another reason why he didn't want to "AcCePt ICe KiNg".

A reason that was charming. A reason that was seemingly calm, cool, and collected. everything he thought he wanted to be.

A reason that sung a stupidly catchy song. "I was once just like you. Didn't know what to do. Had all those bad feelings and sche-"

“There’s gotta be something else!” Finn, who had been quietly letting Prismo and Simon hash it out for far too long. “What if we just—get someone else to make a new wish? Someone who knows what they’re doing this time?!”

Prismo winced and gently lowered his smoothie. “Wish-stacking? No go. You’d be layering cosmic intentions like jellybeans on a pizza. Might taste like a solution, but it’s gonna explode in your stomach.”

Finn spun around. “Okay—okay, what if we try to just pull the Ice King part out of him? Like extract it—magic surgery-style! PB could do it!”

Prismo shook his head slowly. “Nope. Betty’s wish is what’s keeping him alive. If you separate Simon from the Ice King magic now, there’s nothing to anchor him to the world.”

Finn blinked. “You mean… he’d die?”

“Yep,” Prismo said. “Instant soul detachment. Pop. Like a dream bubble.”

Finn’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Behind him, Simon let out another shuddered breath. The kind that sounded like he was trying to breathe through crushed glass.

Finn turned back to Prismo, voice cracking. “Okay, but—there’s gotta be something. You’re the Wishmaster. You’re literally a cosmic genie who cares.”

Prismo sighed, slowly setting his smoothie aside. “I do care, man. But I’m not a rewrite button, at least not all the time. I catalogue wishes. I don’t override them. Monkey’s paw deals—like Betty’s? They’re the sharpest. Once it’s made, it’s locked in.”

Finn dropped onto the cushion beside him, staring blankly at the glowing floor. “So that’s it? He’s stuck like this forever?”

“I didn’t say that,” Prismo replied gently. “But it means you’re not looking for an undo button. You’re looking for a new path forward.”

Finn didn’t respond. Just stared.

Simon, voice raw and muffled, whispered from the corner:

“I don’t want a new path. I just want to stop hurting people.”

Finn flinched.

Prismo looked over at Simon, his expression softer than usual. “Yeah, man. I hear you.”

Silence hung heavy in the room.

The kind of silence where hope doesn’t die—but it sits down, quietly, and doesn’t know what to do next.

Chapter 7: This will not STAND!

The sky split open like warm fabric, and from it, two figures drifted down: one with a mechanical arm and years of wear behind his eyes, the other wrapped in his own shadows and regrets.

Simon floated with Finn beside him, both of them standing on a lilypad-like time disc as it descended through the stars. The world below them shimmered with the sleepy glow of Candy Kingdom lanterns and distant, cozy lights in the trees.

Finn let the silence stretch. It felt right.

Simon finally broke it.

“…He really said there’s no way to undo it.”

Finn nodded, eyes down. “Yeah.”

Simon looked at his own hands. “So what does that make me? A person? A relic? A walking loophole?”

Finn scratched behind his neck. “A sad wizard who cries on ancient couches.”

Simon let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh, might’ve been a sob.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Simon admitted. “But if Betty gave up everything just to keep me alive… I can’t waste that. I won’t.”

They drifted lower now, air growing warmer, the smell of trees and sugar and earth rising to meet them.

“I have to find a cure,” Simon said, softly but firmly. “Not for her. Not even for me. For the people I hurt. For the parts of me that still aren’t mine. I want to be… free. I want to be just Simon, and not have to apologize for existing.”

Finn didn’t answer right away. He squinted into the horizon, watching clouds roll over distant mountains.

Then, without fanfare, he reached out and rested his metal arm on Simon’s shoulder.

The weight was solid. Comforting.

And quiet.

“I dunno if you’ll find it,” Finn said honestly. “But if you’re gonna try… I’m in.”

Simon blinked hard, his throat tight.

The floating disc touched the soft ground outside the Candy Kingdom wall. Fireflies danced around them, oblivious to the weight these two men carried.

Finn stepped off first, his boots crunching in the grass. He looked back.

“You coming?”

Simon stared at the stars for just a second longer.

“I am,” he said. “For real this time.”

And he stepped down—into the world, into uncertainty, into whatever future he could carve for himself.

The door hung awkwardly on its hinges, still half-shattered from the Candy citizens’ attack. Frost clung to the splintered wood, a stubborn reminder of what had happened here.

Simon stood in front of it for a long time, just... looking.

Finn stood behind him, shifting awkwardly. "You good, man?"

Simon nodded, though his hands trembled.

"I just... need to be here. Tonight."

Finn hesitated, then clapped him once on the back—soft, a little lopsided—and turned to leave.
"I'll check on you in the morning," he said. "Then we hit Wizard City."

Simon offered a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Finn."

Finn disappeared down the dark path, leaving Simon alone with the sound of wind threading through the broken frame.

The inside was worse.

The snow had melted into slush puddles. Books were ruined. The couch sagged where frost had eaten through the stuffing. His battered mug lay cracked on the floor.

Simon started moving through the space slowly, almost reverently. Picking up fallen books. Setting the coffee table upright. Righting the pictures—what few he had.

In the kitchen, he found a single photograph still pinned to the fridge under a magnet shaped like a rubber duck.
It was worn, bent at the corners—
A picture of Betty and him.
Back in the old world.
Before the crown.

Simon touched it with two fingers, as if any more pressure would shatter it.

His voice was rough when he spoke into the empty house.

"Betty..."

He closed his eyes.

"I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t even know if there's anything left of you to hear me. But..."

He swallowed hard. His throat burned.

"I’m gonna finish what you started."

He gripped the edge of the counter until his knuckles went white.

"You wanted me to live. Live. Not survive. Not hide. Not keep falling apart."

A tear slipped down his cheek, leaving a trail of cold against his skin.

"I don't know how yet. I don't know if I can undo what the crown did. But I'm gonna try."

He bowed his head, his forehead resting lightly against the fridge door.

"And when I figure it out... when I'm free..."
His voice cracked, but he pushed through it.

"I’ll live. Really live. For you."

Silence answered him.

But it wasn’t heavy this time.

It felt... lighter. Like something in the air had shifted, just slightly.

Simon stood there a long moment, breathing slowly, letting it settle in him.

Then, finally, he pulled back. Took the photo off the fridge, folded it carefully, and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

His house was broken. His world was broken.
But he wasn’t.

Not entirely.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow he would find a way to fix it.

Simon didn’t remember falling asleep.

One moment he was staring at the cracked ceiling, listening to the soft drip-drip-drip of melting snow.
The next—

He was standing in the Ice Kingdom.

Except... it wasn’t his Ice Kingdom.

The world around him was drenched in a howling, blinding blizzard.
The winds were vicious, ripping through the frozen peaks like living things. The snow didn’t drift softly the way he remembered—it screamed, whipping in furious, endless spirals.

Simon hunched against the cold, pulling his jacket tighter, stumbling forward through knee-high drifts. His boots crunched against ice that cracked and re-formed in strange, jagged patterns beneath him.

Nothing was familiar.

The cheerful ice castles. The ridiculous sculptures. The empty expanse of cold beauty—gone.

Now it was a wasteland.
A graveyard.

And jutting from the snow like tombstones were pillars of jagged ice, each one gleaming like glass—and inside each, frozen in time, were memories.

Simon stopped at the first one, wiping frost from its surface with shaking hands.

Inside, trapped and flickering like a broken film reel, he saw—

—himself, wild and grinning, dressed in the Ice King's tattered robes, chasing Gunter around a crumbling ice tower, singing nonsense songs.

Simon recoiled, heart pounding.

He stumbled to the next pillar.

Inside: Ice King, sitting alone on his throne, mumbling to himself, building little ice figurines of princesses, only to crush them in his hands moments later.

Simon squeezed his eyes shut. Turned away.

Another pillar: Ice King, stealing Princess Bubblegum from a diplomatic meeting, only to weep when Finn and Jake fought him off again.

Each memory was worse than the last.
Not just madness.
Loneliness.
Desperation.
Himself, twisted beyond recognition.

The blizzard grew harsher. The wind roared louder, deafening.

Somewhere ahead, through the white-out—

Simon saw him.

A hunched figure, staggering in the storm, clutching something close to his chest.

Simon’s breath caught.

It was Ice King.

The dark blue robe he used to wear to cope, slightly torn and flapping in the gale. The crown—no, there was no crown. Only the faint glow of it, like a ghost halo over his head.

His long beard was stiff with ice. His skin an unnatural blue.
But his face—

He looked lost.

Like a child in a storm too big to survive.

Simon took a step forward.

“Wait!” he called out. His voice was ripped away by the wind.

Another step.

Another.

Ice King didn’t seem to hear him. He just kept trudging forward, mumbling broken words into the storm.

Simon ran now, stumbling, boots skidding on frozen patches, heart hammering.

"STOP!" he shouted.

And finally—he caught up.

He reached out—and grabbed Ice King’s shoulder.

The figure turned.

And for a single, awful moment—

Simon was staring into his own face.
Not Ice King’s.
His.

Simon's face, twisted in grief, fear, and something worse: resignation.

He opened his mouth—but no sound came out.

The blizzard swallowed everything.

'REALITY'

Simon woke with a ragged gasp, bolt upright in his freezing bed.
Sweat slicked his skin, instantly chilling against the still-frigid air.

His heart thundered in his chest.

The room around him was silent except for his own panting breath.

He pressed a hand against his forehead, trying to steady himself.
It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

And yet—

The feeling clung to him like frostbite.

Somewhere deep inside, he knew:
The Ice King wasn't just a memory.
He was still in there.
Waiting.

Chapter 8: Trying to cure an old man here! can't the candy apocalypse wait!?

Summary:

Simon and Finn are about to head off to wizard city when something goes wrong in the candy kingdom.

Simon woke up this morning groggly and his body demanded more sleep, yet his determination pulled him out of bed as he snatched his glasses off the night stand.

Getting washed up for the day went by like a cheetah blur, the antiquarian barely remembering brushing his teeth, hair or showering. Even when dawning his iconic dark suit and red bowtie, he practically moved on auto pilot.

The only thing he felt during this was the pulsing determination to honor Betty running through his old man body.

pulled his jacket tighter against the morning chill, trudging up the sugar-dusted road leading into the Candy Kingdom. His pack bounced awkwardly on his back, heavy with books, old notes, and anything he thought might help him once they reached Wizard City.

The gates loomed ahead, open wide. Bananna Guards milled nervously. Something felt... off.

Simon paused just outside.

No cheers. No laughing. No music drifting from the inner walls like usual. Just a low, uneasy murmuring. Like a crowd holding its breath.

He spotted Finn waiting near the fountain plaza, sword strapped across his back, his metal arm flexing absently as he scanned the streets.

Simon raised a hand. “Hey!”

Finn spun around, face brightening. “Yo, man! You ready to wizard it up?”

Simon smiled faintly, trudging over. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They started walking side-by-side, heading toward the market, chatting quietly.

“So, what's the plan?” Simon asked. “Find some ancient wizard who owes you a favor?”

Finn laughed. “Basically. I got a few leads. Might need to kiss up to some old jerks first, but hey—adventure!”

Simon chuckled dryly, but before he could respond—

Screaming cut through the morning air.

They both snapped toward the sound.

A group of Candy citizens came tearing through the market square, running full-tilt in terror. Shop stands were knocked over. Lollipops shattered on the cobblestones.

And chasing them—

Simon blinked.

At first he thought it was normal guards chasing troublemakers, but—

No.

These Candy people were wrong.

Their candy bodies were cracked and oozing strange, dark syrup. Their eyes—once bright and full of that dopey candy innocence—were glassy and black, dripping like melting licorice.
Their movements were jerky. Staggering.

Like marionettes with broken strings.

Simon recoiled instinctively.

“What the glob is that?!” Finn shouted.

He didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed Simon by the arm—careful, but firm—and dragged him through the panicking crowd.

"Come on, bro! We gotta see what's up!"

Simon stumbled along, heart hammering, barely keeping pace.

As they ducked behind an overturned gumdrop cart, Finn peeked around the side, surveying the chaos.

More infected Candy citizens staggered into view, groaning low, their limbs bending at unnatural angles.
Each step they took left sticky, tar-like syrup in their wake.

It was spreading.

Fast.

Simon clutched his head, feeling the cold start to prickle at his fingertips—a reflex he couldn’t control anymore.

Finn didn’t miss it. He glanced back, worried.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

Simon nodded, though he wasn’t sure if it was true. “I—I’m fine. Just... focus on them.”

They watched as the infected citizens cornered a group of children near the bubblegum fountain, reaching out with warped, syrup-dripping hands.

Finn cursed under his breath.

“Okay. New plan,” he said. “Step one: save the kids. Step two: figure out what the HECK is infecting all the gumdrops. Step three: still get you to Wizard City. Somehow.”

Simon nodded, adrenaline cutting through his fear.

For the first time in a long time, his survival wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

And he wasn’t alone.

Candy citizens fled through the crumbling, syrup-slick streets, slipping and screaming. The infected shambled after them, dark syrup drooling from cracked candy skin, groaning and reaching with jerky hands.

Finn swore under his breath, pulling Simon down behind a toppled marshmallow cart.

He pointed toward the main gate—where they’d entered not long ago.

At least they would've gotten to the gate had it not been blocked off by piles of dead infected candy people. GREAT!

No way out.

Finn gritted his teeth. "Gate’s blocked. We’re stuck."

Simon peered out from behind the cart, the cold thrumming under his skin, unsteady.

"What do we do?" he rasped.

Finn thought fast, running through a hero’s checklist in his brain.

"Tavern," he said, snapping his fingers. "Strong doors. Small windows. It’s right up the street. We round up whoever’s left, hole up there."

Simon nodded quickly. "Okay. I'll help gather people."

Finn’s eyes flicked to him—concerned, but trusting.

"Stick close," he said. "Yell if you get swarmed."

Simon offered a tight smile. "Not my first apocalypse."

Finn smirked. "Just your latest one."

They broke cover.

Simon darted down an alley, waving to a cluster of terrified citizens huddled under an awning.

"This way! To the tavern!"

He ushered them forward, voice hoarse but firm.

Among them was a tiny girl made of cotton candy, clutching a half-melted stuffed animal.

Simon bent down to her level.

"Stick close, okay?"

She nodded, eyes huge and tear-filled.

They moved quickly, weaving through overturned stands and sticky puddles. The tavern’s sign—a wobbling candy cane swinging on rusty chains—was just ahead.

They were almost there.

Almost—

CRASH.

A group of infected slammed through a side wall, howling and gurgling, syrup splattering in grotesque arcs.

Simon spun around.

His heart dropped.

Too close.

Way too close.

The infected charged, blackened teeth bared.

Simon shoved the little girl forward, voice breaking.

"RUN! Get to the tavern! FIND FINN!"

She hesitated.

Simon roared—louder than he meant to.

"GO!"

She fled, sobbing, sprinting toward the tavern's safety.

Simon turned back just as the infected were on him.

They tackled him to the ground, sticky hands grabbing at his arms, legs, throat.

He fought, wild and desperate, but they were too many.
The sticky syrup burned cold against his skin, a hideous, wrong feeling.

They opened their cracked mouths—going for his face, his neck, his heart.

Simon cried out, voice high and panicked.

"Please—please don't—I’m not ready—"

And then—

The cold inside him exploded outward.

FLASHFREEZE.

The world blinked white.

The infected were blasted backward, skidding across the syrup-slick cobblestones, limbs locking into spasms of ice.

Simon staggered upright—

But it wasn't Simon anymore.

It was Ice King.

Light blue skin. Frizzled black hair already draining to white. His nose elongated as if he's pinocchio caught telling a lie.

Ice King blinked, confused.

"Wha—? Where still in the candy kingdom??" he cried, flapping his sleeves, stumbling around like a lost penguin.

The infected moaned from where they were pinned under frozen slush, still twitching.

Ice King clutched his head.

"Why's it so LOUD?! Where's Finn?? Gotta make sure my Turb bro safe!!"

He spun in a wide, ungraceful circle, trying to make sense of the chaos and find Finn.

The little cotton candy girl watched from the tavern’s doorway—eyes wide with fear—as Simon's body moved, but he wasn’t there anymore.

Inside the tavern, Finn shoved past the cowering survivors, sword drawn, pushing through the wreckage—

And froze.

His eyes locked onto Ice King.

Recognition. Horror. Grief.

All at once.

Finn burst through the swinging tavern doors, sword raised, ready to fight—and found Ice King stumbling around, arms flailing, surrounded by twitching, frozen infected citizens.

Finn’s heart hammered in his chest.
If they got back up, if they swarmed again—

"ICE KING!" Finn barked.

Ice King blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Finn? FINN! There you are man, why do you keep leaving me?”

Finn pointed at the staggering infected, the ones still dragging their half-frozen limbs toward the terrified survivors.
"FREEZE THEM! ALL OF THEM! NOW!"

For a second, Ice King just gawked.

Then—

A grin spread across his face.

"Ooooh, a FREEZE TAG game!" he squealed, clapping his hands. "I LOVE FREEZE TAG! ZAPP!"

He threw out his hands dramatically. Frosty lightning bolted from spiraled from his fingertips, Freezing a couple of the infected citizens.

With delighted giggles, Ice King froze the infected one by one.

Icy pillars snapped up around each of them, locking their broken bodies into jagged, frosty prisons.

The moaning stopped.

The syrup-thick air grew still.

Finn exhaled hard, finally letting his sword lower.

For now—for now—the threat was neutralized.

He turned toward Ice King, who was spinning gleefully in a slow circle, admiring his handiwork.

"Ta-daaa!" Ice King sang, bowing low.

Finn rubbed his face, breathing slow to center himself.

"Okay. Good job, buddy."

Ice King beamed. "I know! I'm GREAT at Ice, Finn. kinda in the name y'know."

Finn didn’t have the heart to correct him as Ice King gestured little ice bolts.

He scanned the shivering, exhausted Candy citizens clustered behind the tavern’s broken walls.

"We gotta find PB," Finn muttered. "She's gotta know about this syrup-zombie-whatever mess."

He glanced at Ice King—still grinning, still bouncing on his heels.

"And we can’t leave these guys defenseless..."

Before Finn could even finish the thought—

Ice King hands trickled with Ice again with a loud CRACK.

Out of thin air, ice soldiers sprouted up around the tavern: jagged, glimmering constructs shaped like knights, each one carrying a shimmering frost spear.

Finn jumped back in surprise. "WHOA, WHOA!"

Ice King posed proudly next to one of them.

"Behold! The Royal Frosty Brigade™!" he declared. "Patent pending!"

Finn blinked at the soldiers—silent, unmoving, but definitely standing guard.

"...That actually works," Finn admitted.

Ice King twirled happily in place—and only then seemed to notice himself for the first time.

He stopped mid-spin, grabbing the front of his shirt.

"...Why am I wearing these super dapper clothes?!" he wailed.

Finn looked him up and down—Simon's black slacks, the white button-up shirt, the slightly scuffed black blazer, the little, slightly-loose red bowtie.

Simon’s normal clothes.

His real clothes.

Finn swallowed hard, something bitter rising in his throat.

"Uh," he said carefully. "Guess you got... promoted?"

Ice King gasped. "PROMOTED?! About TIME! Maybe Gunter will respect me now!"

Finn forced a grin. "Yup. Big boss energy, man. Let's go talk to Princess Bubblegum before your frosty troops start charging taxes."

Ice King saluted dramatically, nearly slipping on the syrup-slick cobblestones.

"ONWARD, CAPTAIN!" he crowed.

Finn turned toward the heart of the city, leading the way.

And Ice King—still wearing Simon’s suit, still caught between two lives—followed after him, humming a nonsense tune as he went.

The two of them moved carefully through the broken streets—Finn jogging lightly ahead, sword drawn but lowered, Ice King waddling behind with long, awkward strides.
His icy magic still crackled faintly around his fingers, like static that hadn’t quite worn off.

The chaos had mostly faded, thanks to the Frosty Brigade™ standing guard at the tavern.

But syrup puddles still stained the cobblestones. Cracked candy houses leaned at dangerous angles.

The heart of the kingdom—the sweet, colorful place Finn once called home—felt wrong now. Twisted.

Finn kept glancing back over his shoulder at Ice King.

At Simon.

Wearing his real clothes.

Still laughing to himself sometimes under his breath, still twirling like a clumsy wizard without a crown.

Still wrong.

After a few minutes of walking in tense silence, Finn couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He slowed his pace, letting Ice King catch up.

“Hey,” Finn said, keeping his tone light. “You doing okay, man?”

Ice King flailed his arms dramatically. “Dandy like a dandelion, Captain Human-Pants! Leading the charge! Flap flap flap!”

He mimed flying with his arms. His sleeves flapped wildly.

Finn chuckled half-heartedly.

But Ice King’s arms dropped after a moment.

And his face—normally so animated, so foolish—shifted.

He looked... tired.

Tired in a way Finn had never really seen before.

"Actually," Ice King said, voice softer now, "I've been... blacking out a lot lately."

Finn stiffened.

Ice King rubbed his temples with both hands, wincing like he was trying to dig something out of his own skull.

"It’s like... I’ll be freezing candy people who were jumping me for whatever reason and then... poof... nothing. Empty. Like falling asleep with your eyes open."

He laughed—an awkward, broken sound.

"But the worst part? There’s... these noises now."

Finn slowed down even more, letting the words settle.

Ice King’s hands dropped. His fingers twisted nervously in the hem of Simon’s blazer.

"They’re quiet. Real quiet. But I hear ‘em... way, way back in my head," he whispered, almost like he was scared of saying it too loud.

"Crying. Screaming sometimes. Like someone’s stuck in a closet and banging to get out."

He shivered visibly—not from cold, but from fear.

Finn felt his stomach clench.

He knew without asking:
That wasn't Ice King hearing things.
That was Simon.

Still trapped.

Still fighting.

Still begging.

Finn masked his horror behind a tight smile, clapping Ice King gently on the back. "You’re... doing great, dude. Just hang in there a little longer. We’ll figure this out."

Ice King looked at him, hopeful.

"You promise?"

Finn’s voice caught for half a second—but he pushed through.

"I promise."

Ice King beamed like a kid promised ice cream.

But Finn’s heart sank heavier with every step they took toward the castle.

Because if Simon was still screaming inside...
Then time was running out.

Though Finn and Ice king still traversed through the Candy kingdom solid snake style, they eventually find a house.

One that had once been cheerful: frosting-lined windows, gumdrop shutters, a peppermint front door now hanging loose on broken hinges.

It sat near the city’s quieter edge, mostly untouched by the infected chaos—silent and forgotten under the cold night sky.

Finn pushed the door open with his shoulder, sword still drawn just in case, but the place was empty. Dusty. Safe enough.

Ice King followed behind, humming tunelessly, arms full of stolen pillows from the street (“for tactical nap deployment,” he insisted).

Finn sheathed his sword with a weary sigh.
"We'll rest here tonight," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Search for PB in the morning."

Ice King dropped into the guest beds in the house, standing on top as he yelled
"Best. Sleepover. EVER!" he said happily.

Before immediately falling asleep like the goober he was.

Finn couldn’t help a small, tired smile.

He set his old green backpack down against the wall, slumping beside it as he chuckled to himself about still holding on to the thing.

For a few minutes, the house was quiet—just the faint creaks of candywood settling and the distant sound of the corrupted wind outside.

Finn leaned his head back, letting out a slow breath.

Then he opened the backpack.

Inside were the last few supplies he’d grabbed from Wizard City in a rush:

A cracked mana compass

A half-melted bag of portal seeds

A torn-up flyer advertising “WANDER'S WAND EMPORIUM: Spells for All!”

And tucked carefully at the bottom—
The jumper cables.
The Mind Walk spell.

Finn pulled them out, holding the yellowed scroll up to the faint moonlight spilling through a broken window.

He frowned, reading the sloppy magical scrawl.

Step One: Connect Subject A to Subject B.
Step Two: Power Source.
Step Three: Spell Activation.

Finn blinked. “Power source...?”

He dug deeper in the bag. Nothing. No portable battery. No mana crystal. Not even a rechargeable wand.

He cursed under his breath, looking around the abandoned house frantically.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered. "I got jumper cables, I got the spell, I just need... magic juice."

His eyes landed on Ice King—snoring loudly, sprawled across a fortress of pillows, one hand twitching slightly as if chasing ice cream in a dream.

Finn squinted.

Then grinned.

"Magic juice."

He scrambled over, careful not to wake him.

Finn clipped one end of the jumper cables to Ice King’s frizzled sleeve—little sparks crackling on contact.
Ice King snorted but didn’t stir.

“Sorry, bro,” Finn whispered. “Science wizardry. Sleep through it.”

He clipped the other end to a battered metal headband he'd scavenged from the bag (questionable Wizard City tech) and settled it around his own forehead.

The scroll floated in front of him, hovering slightly once both subjects were connected.

The runes pulsed, waiting for activation.

Finn hesitated.

Looking at Ice King now—half Simon, half madness, wearing Simon's old clothes, muttering nonsense in his sleep—it hit harder.

"Hang in there, dude," he whispered.

He pressed his palm to the scroll.

A flash of light.

A snap of magic.

The world tilted.

The house dissolved into smoke and light.

And Finn was falling—

Notes:

So these couple of chapters are gonna get REALLY intense. I'll be doing back to back uploads these next couple of days. Stay Tuned.

Chapter 9: Two birds on a wire, one tries to talk away. And the other...

Summary:

Finn stumbles into Simon's mind, allowed Simon and Ice king to FINALLY meet each other.

'SIMON'S MIND'

The cold hit Finn like a punch in the gut.

He staggered forward, boots sinking deep into the endless, howling blizzard.
The sky was white. The ground was white. The air screamed around him.
A storm without direction. Without mercy.

Finn squinted through the swirling snow.

Shapes loomed out of the fog—the jagged ice pillars, just like Simon had seen before, frozen memories flickering inside them like trapped fireflies.

One Ice pillar showed Ice king holding Gunter looking at Hunson Abadeer for some reason?

"NO ONE SUCKS THE LIFE OUT OF MY PENGUINS EXCEPT ME! and also polar bears, cause thats just nature gunter." Ice king said from the pillar.

Finn passed by another one, taking place a little later in Bubblegum's bedroom attempted to kidnap her. Again. "Baby, I was trying to surprise you by moving you to my place while you sleep. And have you wake up to Breakfast in Bed! But now you ruined the surprise, way to go."

Ice King kidnapping princesses.

Simon crying alone as he gave up his last bits of sanity to the crown in a forming Ice kingdom.

"Wow wee, this isn't anything like Marcy's memories. Wonder what Ja-. No. No, no, no, no. Helping Simon right now." Finn thought until he noticed something.

A ice pillar blacked with with static that was far away from the other ice pillars.

Finn's heart grew curious as he tried to get to the darkened Ice pillar, hearing Bubblegum and Ice king talking about something.

But before he was able to reach it, he noticed something in the corner of his eye.

Somewhere ahead—

There.

Two figures.

One shuffling through the storm, hunched, lost.

The other—running. Struggling to catch up.

It was Simon—coat wrapped tightly around himself, eyes stinging against the wind, teeth gritted with determination.

He stumbled through the drifts, reaching, calling out.

And the figure ahead—Ice King—kept moving blindly into the blizzard, clutching his tattered robe around his shoulders.

"Hey!" Finn shouted into the storm. "TURN AROUND, MAN!"

Ice King flinched at the sound.

He turned, slowly, like he was waking from a long, bad dream.

Through the screaming snow, his pale face blinked at Finn—confused, scared.

Finn jabbed a finger toward Simon.

"LOOK!" he shouted. "HE’S RIGHT THERE!"

For a second—
A heartbeat—
Finn thought it wouldn’t work.

Then Ice King's gaze shifted.

He saw Simon.

And Simon, gasping against the wind, finally reached him.

They stood just a few feet apart, staring at each other.

The air between them crackled—not with magic, but with something deeper.

Recognition.

Pain.

Hope.

Finn stumbled forward, desperate to hear, to help, to pull them both together—

But before he could reach them—

The world snapped like a rubber band.

A jolt of electricity ripped through his body.

The blizzard imploded into a blinding light.

Finn's eyes flew open as he was thrown backward from Ice King, the jumper cables sparking wildly and snapping free.

He hit the candywood floor hard, gasping, blinking stars out of his vision.

For a second he just lay there, chest heaving.

The cold from the dream still clung to his skin.

Ice King snored softly, still sprawled in his mountain of pillows, completely unaware.

Finn sat up slowly, rubbing his head.

He glanced at the ruined jumper cables, at the still-faintly-glowing scroll.

Whatever had just happened...
He hadn't seen the end of it.

He hadn't heard what Simon and Ice King said to each other.

And that terrified him.

Because whatever it was—it had felt important.

More important than anything Finn could fix with magic or swords or plans.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, staring into the dark.

Tomorrow...
Tomorrow he and Simon would have to face whatever was waiting inside that mind.
Together.

'Meanwhile, back in Simon's mind.'

The storm had quieted—just slightly.

The howling wind faded to a heavy, low hum, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Simon and Ice King stood across from each other, the frozen wasteland stretching endlessly around them.

Ice King squinted at Simon, tilting his head like a confused owl.

"You’re... funny lookin’," he said finally, scratching under his chin.
"All dapper and gloomy. Some goober with glasses."

Simon just stared at him—shivering, heart hammering, teeth gritted.

"You don’t even know, do you?" Simon rasped.

Ice King blinked, bewildered. "Know what? That you look like a substitute librarian?"

Simon’s fists clenched at his sides.

"No," he said, voice sharp. "That you’re ME."

Ice King recoiled, wobbling backward like Simon had slapped him.

"Whaaaat?" he said, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch. "No way! I’m a cool ice wizard! You’re just some... boring... sad guy with a dumb little tie!"

Simon laughed—a bitter, broken sound, swallowed almost immediately by the cold. "Thats what they all say about me."

"huh?"Ice king tilted his head.

"You think you’re special?" Simon hissed. "You think you just happened?"

He gestured to the wasteland around them—the cracked, empty memories trapped in ice.

"This?" he said. "This blizzard? These broken pieces? You’re what’s left of me. The parts that got twisted. Warped. Worn down until there was nothing but frostbite and bad jokes."

Ice King’s face twitched.

His hands fidgeted nervously with his robe sleeves.

"I don’t get it," he said, smaller now. "Why does everyone keep calling me 'Simon'? Marceline did. Betty did. Even Finn sometimes. Like it’s supposed to mean something."

Simon stepped closer.

The cold deepened between them.

"It did mean something," he said, voice dropping. "It meant I was human. That I loved people. That I mattered."

He took another step forward—slow, deliberate.

"And now?"

He laughed again—emptier this time.

"Now I'm just a curse that can't die. A wish gone wrong. A bad memory you put funny hats on to make less terrifying."

Ice King looked at him, wide-eyed, his breath puffing visibly in the frigid air.

"But... but I’m happy," he said. "I like singing! And flying! And... penguins."

Simon stared at him for a long moment.

Then, so softly it was almost lost to the wind:

"Then you’re lucky."

The storm trembled around them, a low rumble, like the whole mindscape was grieving.

Ice King fidgeted awkwardly.

"Well, I don't know if you met him, but I got a guy name Finn who could help both of us." he annonced gleefully, voice cracking a little.

Simon turned away, arms crossed against his chest like a shield.

"I already know." Simon said bluntly and angrily

The distance between them stretched wide again—wider than the whole frozen wasteland.

Simon was left standing there, alone with his other self, the cold pressing in from all sides.

The storm had calmed to a mournful drift, snow swirling like slow smoke around their feet.

Simon stood stiff, arms crossed, breath misting in front of him in ragged gasps.

Across from him—

Ice King just... smiled.

A stupid, crooked, blissful smile as he stood proud of the promise he made about Finn.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, waving his hands excitedly as he babbled on.

"But until we wake up or whatever, Man, this place is weird! I can't find a single penguin anywhere! You think Gunther’s makin' snow angels without me? He's such a rascal! I should teach him how to bake cookies—oh! Or how to play freeze tag! I’m, like, super good at it!"

He spun clumsily, arms flapping, then nearly fell over into a drift.

Simon didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Just listened as he sat in the snow.

Watched the living, breathing... thing that had grown out of his destruction.

The Ice King had no idea—none—of what he was.
No idea of the sacrifice, the tragedy, the slow, painful loss that birthed him.

He didn’t know about Betty’s heartbreak.
Or Marceline’s years of loneliness.
Or Betty’s desperate fights to save him.
Or the life that Simon Petrikov had clawed to hold onto, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but cold.

He just... was.

Blissfully ignorant.

Free in a way Simon could never be again.

Simon’s stomach twisted.

He hated him for it.
He pitied him for it.
He envied him.

Ice King was still rambling, pacing back and forth through the frost:

"And after we find Gunther, we gotta fix this weird syrupy-zombie-candy mess, right? 'Cause like—this kingdom's a hot fudge disaster! Ha! Get it? Fudge? 'Cause candy?"

Simon said nothing.

He just stood there, feeling the gravity of it all crush against his ribs.
The unbearable truth:

This idiot smiling at him... was all that was left of the man he used to be.

And no matter what he did—no matter how hard he fought—he might never fully be Simon again.

He opened his mouth to finally say something—

Anything.

"Wh—"

REALITY

Simon jolted awake with a sharp gasp, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

The dusty air of the abandoned candy house filled his lungs.

Finn crouched over him, both hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently.

"Simon! Dude, wake up! You're freaking me out!"

Simon blinked rapidly, heart hammering.

The memory of the blizzard faded quickly, like breath on a mirror.

But Ice King's stupid, happy smile—

It lingered.

Deep.

Heavy.

Finn backed off a little, giving him space. "You okay?"

Simon sat up slowly, one hand pressed to his forehead.

He swallowed hard, forcing the words out.

"I... I'm fine."

He wasn’t.

But right now—he didn’t have the strength to explain why.

Chapter 10: The bane of my existance

Summary:

Simon and Ice king have a little chat after Ice king fumbles the bag, not at princesses. But everyone's survival. Also Peppermint butler is here!

The streets of the Candy Kingdom were a sticky battlefield.

Infected Candy citizens shuffled through the misty streets, their once-bright bodies cracked and syrup-leaking, groaning low like broken instruments.

Finn and Simon pressed themselves against the remains of a shattered gumdrop wall, peeking cautiously around the corner.

Finn whispered, "Okay, dude—Solid Snake mode."

Simon frowned. "Solid what?"

Finn grinned. "C'mon, man. Sneak mission. Quiet like a mouse. Bam. Bam. Stealth heroes."

Simon shook his head but followed Finn’s lead, crouching low and creeping forward in the half-shadow of the twisted candy structures.

The castle loomed ahead, dark and hulking against the sickly moonlight.

As they slinked between half-melted candy carts and cracked lamp posts, Simon spoke—his voice low, almost reluctant.

"I saw him," he murmured.

Finn glanced back. "Ice King?"

Simon nodded tightly.

"He... he was just happy." Simon's voice cracked a little. "Babbling about Gunther and freeze tag and fixing the Candy Kingdom. He doesn't even understand what he is. What he came from."

Finn slowed slightly, listening carefully while scanning for infected patrols.

Simon continued, words tumbling out like stones.

"He's what’s left of me, Finn. And he’s... fine."
A bitter laugh.
"I’m the one who’s breaking."

Finn frowned, but didn’t interrupt.

Simon kicked at a loose gumdrop stone, sending it skittering into the dark.

"I hated him, Finn," he whispered. "Just for being happy."

Finn finally spoke, soft but sure.

"Maybe... maybe that’s what Prismo meant."

Simon stiffened slightly. "What?"

Finn looked at him, serious now.

"That whole 'new path' thing. Maybe it’s not about... curing yourself. Or undoing everything. Maybe it’s about... I dunno. Finding a way to live with it."

Simon opened his mouth—to argue, to deny, to fight.

But before he could—

A loud crash echoed nearby.

Finn cursed under his breath, grabbing Simon's jacket sleeve and dragging him into a collapsed lollipop stand for cover.

From the shadows ahead, infected citizens staggered through the castle’s broken courtyard, syrup oozing from their mouths and limbs.

The castle gates yawned open, half-smashed, no guards in sight.

Finn grimaced. "We’re close."

They started moving again, weaving between syrup puddles and crumbling gingerbread walls, sticking to the shadows.

INT. CANDY KINGDOM – CASTLE HALLWAYS

Inside the castle, it was worse.

Syrup dripped from the ceilings like sick rain.

Frost clung to the walls from the earlier fight with the infected.

The halls twisted under the low green glow of broken candy lamps.

Finn led the way, ducking low, sword ready.

Simon followed—until he stumbled, nearly dropping to his knees.

His fingers spasmed.

His breath frosted.

And he knew.

"No—no, not now—" Simon gasped.

Finn spun around.

"Simon?"

Simon clutched at his chest, the cold burning through his veins, blooming under his skin like cracks in a frozen pond.

The change came faster this time.

Before Finn could reach him—

Simon transformed.

In a burst of blue light and whirling frost, Ice King stood hunched where Simon had been— his suit fluttering with icy magic, eyes wide and bright, beard whipping around his face in a wild halo.

"WHEEEEEE!" Ice King shrieked, throwing up his arms.

The infected staggered at the sudden blast of cold.

Finn winced. "Oh, glob, here we go again."

Ice King, oblivious to the danger, twirled in place.

"HI, CANDY FRIENDS! WHO WANTS A SNOW CONE?!"

The infected groaned, shambling toward them.

Finn grabbed Ice King’s arm.

"Focus, man!" he hissed. "Freeze 'em! Freeze 'em all!"

Ice King blinked at him.

Then grinned.

"FREEZE PARTY?! I’M IN!"

With a wild laugh, Ice King flung out his hands.

Ice shot down the halls, pillars of frost slamming up around the infected, locking them in place with shuddering cracks.

Finn dropped into a fighting stance—half ready to attack, half ready to cover Ice King if he lost control.

The hallway filled with frozen infected statues, glittering under the broken candy chandeliers.

Finn exhaled slowly.

Threat—neutralized. For now.

But beside him, Ice King just grinned, oblivious.

And somewhere deep inside that frozen body—
Simon was still fighting to come back.

The ice-covered hallways creaked and groaned as Finn and Ice King moved deeper into the castle.

Shattered candy armor and syrup-smeared banners littered the floors. Somewhere distant, the groaning of frozen infected echoed like broken music.

Finn pressed forward carefully, sword still ready, Ice King bouncing happily beside him, conjuring tiny ice sculptures and muttering nonsense to himself.

They rounded a corner—

And nearly collided with a frantic figure running straight at them.

"AAH!" Peppermint Butler shrieked, skidding to a halt, eyes wild.

Finn raised his hands. "Whoa! Peppermint Butler! Chill!"

Pepbut blinked, panting hard. "Finn?! Oh glob, finally—you're not infected!"

He grabbed Finn by the jacket with surprising strength for a piece of candy.

"I messed up, man! BIG TIME!"

Finn steadied him, glancing nervously at Ice King—who was busy licking the frost off his own palm and giggling.

"Okay, slow down," Finn said. "What happened?"

Pepbut tugged at his own hood. "I tried—I tried to help! I was working with PB. You know how she hates magic? Always science this, science that—'cause of the whole... 'accidental explosion of candy citizens' thing last decade?"

Finn nodded grimly.

Pepbut wrung his tiny hands. "Well, she finally gave me permission to try a small resurrection spell! Just... bring back the spirits of the dead candy folk, let 'em move on properly. Help clean up the old plague zones. Nice magic! Real positive vibes!"

Finn raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Pepbut made a face like he was about to throw up.

"And it backfired! The magic warped through the syrup system! It started raising stuff, but not in a good way! They're not spirits—they're syrup-infected husks! It’s spreading like a bad fungus!"

Finn rubbed his face hard. "Dude. DUUUUDE."

Pepbut nodded rapidly. "I know! I know! PB’s down in the deep labs trying to lock it down, but it's bad. Real bad."

He paused, finally blinking up at Ice King—who was currently crouched on the windowsill, building something with his icy fingers.

Pepbut squinted.

"...Wait. Is that—?"

He leaned closer.

"Is that... the Ice King?!"

Finn glanced back, sighing. "Yeah. Long story. Technically Simon, technically cursed, technically—"

THWIP.

A wet, sticky splat sound broke the conversation.

They all turned.

Ice King beamed proudly, holding a slingshot made entirely of glistening blue ice, using goo chunks ripped from the frozen infected as ammo.

He had just launched a glob out the shattered castle window.

"Target acquired!" he sang.

They all peered through the window—

Just in time to see the Gumball Guardian outside lurch.

A fat glob of infected syrup splattered across its candy chest plate.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

"Ë̵͍̲́V̶̛̞̮̹̟̠͖̯̑̏̎̆̉̈́̈́̏͋̚̚I̵̬͓̳̖̲̞̝͚̠̭͙͉̝̖̞͑͌͊̄͌̾̅̆́̐͑̔̚L̶̯̠̤͉̗̬͓̜̤̏͊̓̓͝ͅ ̵̛̛̣̭̞̼̾̉̍̑́͌̉̓̕̕͘͘Ṕ̶͚͕͓̦̫̗͖͖̭R̸̻͖̜͈̫̹͎͓͖̭̖͌̇̄̃́̍͘͝͠E̷̯̻̠͖̮͂͗̈̊̆͛̿͂̈͋͝S̴̮̝͇͔̯̪̲̩͕̙͍̜̭̎͑̇͑͆̽̒͐̽Ẽ̸̡͚͇͖̺̦͔̦̦̠̼̰̉̈̇̋̈́͒̓̈́̈̀̎͛͜Ņ̶͙̟͓̣̓̄̀͌̂͊̓̊̇̓̈́͋͛̈̕C̷͉͕̦͉̯̝̹̩̺̻̉͂͊́̿̍̋̀͆̎̒͝Ȩ̸̡̟͎͕̲͓̪̱̦̙͉̜̥̼͌̈͐̅́̋̈́͊̑͠ ̴̢̨͔͉̺͓͎̜̬͇̜̉͜D̵̘̩͉̜̭͎̬͙̞̣̼̻̈́̅͜E̴͙̼͓̳̣͓͛̽̄̊̃̏̉ͅT̴̛̟̹̱̠̼͙̋̽̄͗́̇͆͐͑̿̕E̷̯̺̔̐̄̾͆̀C̴̡͈̳͙̜̲̠̥̦̫̗̖̲͙̊̈́͑̍̽̀̾͆̓̔̉͗̒̈͝T̶͕̖͚͈̿̋͛̿̑͜Ë̵͇̠̟̹̌̓͒̔D̴͚͎̣͖͈͆̍̇͂̎͑̀̋͆͑̚̚ ̴̨͙͎̘͙̩̳͉̫̬̯̽ͅ"

The Gumball Guardian groaned.

Its massive candy frame cracked. Syrup leaked from its pink joints.
Its bright purple eyes dulled, turning glassy and black.

It began to stagger toward the castle.

Pepbut’s face went dead white.

Finn dropped his sword-hand in complete despair.

"OH MY GLOB."

Ice King cackled behind them, gleeful.

"I’M HELPING!!" he shouted, loading another goo-ball into the slingshot.

Finn lunged and snatched the slingshot out of his hands.

"NO. NO HELPING."

Ice King pouted but immediately started trying to conjure another one out of icicles and gum.

Finn turned back to Pepbut, panic rising.

"Where’s Bubblegum now?!"

Pepbut pointed toward the crumbling lower halls.

"Basement labs! If anyone can fix this mess before that Guardian smashes the castle—it's her!"

Finn grabbed Ice King by the robe sleeve.

"C'mon, man. Less chaos, more saving the world."

Ice King saluted clumsily. "Aye-aye, Captain Finny Pants!"

They sprinted down the dark halls, syrup dripping from the walls, the ground shaking slightly under the heavy, infected steps of the Gumball Guardian outside.

The ground rumbled beneath them as the infected Gumball Guardian staggered forward, syrup leaking from its massive joints, black veins of corrupted magic pulsing along its surface.

It groaned—a sound like mountains crumbling underwater—and charged its runic eye lasers, the ancient sigils around its sockets blazing sickly purple.

Finn dragged Ice King behind a toppled candy wall.

"That thing’s gonna blast a hole through the castle if we don’t stop it!" Finn hissed.

Peppermint Butler poked his head over the rubble, eyes bulging. "Oh glob, it’s powering up!"

The Guardian reared back.

FWEEEEE-SHHH!

Two beams of crackling purple light blasted from its eyes—searing, violent, unstoppable.

One struck a nearby tower, blowing it apart into a rain of sugar bricks.

The other—
direct hit.

Straight into Ice King.

"YAAAAAAGH!" Ice King screamed as the beam slammed him across the courtyard like a kicked ragdoll.

He hit the far candy wall hard, the impact sending cracks spidering through the frost-streaked stone.

Finn’s heart dropped.

"Ice King!"

No—
Not Ice King.

The frost and magic evaporated in a wisp of steam, melting away like mist at dawn.

And slumped against the shattered wall, battered and limp, was Simon Petrikov.

His black suit was torn. His hands trembled weakly. His breath came shallow.

"Simon!" Finn shouted, sprinting across the rubble-strewn courtyard.

Pepbut stumbled after him, robe flapping.

Together, they hauled Simon’s limp form up—Finn grabbing under his arms, Pepbut barely managing to support his legs.

"Basement labs!" Finn barked. "Move it!"

They ran, the castle shaking under the Guardian’s heavy steps, syrup dripping from broken walls.

INT. SIMON'S MIND – THE FROZEN WASTELAND

Inside the stormy mindscape, the blizzard swirled sluggishly, slower now but just as cold.

Simon stood in the middle of the endless white.

Breathing hard.

Staring at Ice King.

Ice King shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, twiddling his icy fingers guiltily.

"Uh, hey, buddy..." he said, his voice unusually small. "Soooo, funny story! I maybe... kinda... sorta... shot syrup goo at one of PB’s Gumball Guardians?"

He chuckled nervously.

Simon didn’t laugh.

His whole body trembled—whether from rage or heartbreak, even he wasn’t sure anymore.

"You WHAT!" Simon screamed.

Ice King rubbed the back of his head. "I didn’t mean to! I was just playing, and then... BAM! Infected robot! Big angry laser eyes! Real kablooey stuff!"

He smiled weakly.

Simon took a step forward, his fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms.

"You... don’t get to feel sorry." His voice was low, shaking.

Ice King blinked, confused.

Simon’s voice rose—a raw, bitter bark.

"You don’t get to feel guilty like you’re some poor little kid who accidentally spilled milk!"

He jabbed a finger at Ice King’s chest.

"You’re not innocent! You’re not harmless! You’re the reason people I loved got hurt! You’re the reason I’m—"

He broke off, voice cracking under the weight of it.

"You’re the reason I’m stuck in this endless nightmare," Simon whispered.

The blizzard howled mournfully around them.

Ice King shrank back, his hands fluttering uselessly.

"I didn’t mean to..." he mumbled.

Simon laughed bitterly—a sharp, broken sound.

"No one ever fucking means to."

The wind swallowed the space between them, swirling into a silent, endless storm.

The blizzard thinned into a low, endless drift of snow.
Soft, choking cold.
A silence so deep it made the air feel heavy, like the whole world had been smothered in frost.

Simon stood with his fists clenched, his shoulders hunched as though trying to carry the weight of it all.

Ice King stood across from him, wringing his icy hands, small and lost.

Simon’s breath came raggedly, clouding the space between them.

"You," he said, his voice shaking with fury, with grief, with everything.
"You cost me everything."

Ice King opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Simon took a step forward, the snow crunching under his boots.

"Betty," Simon rasped. "She left me the first time I wore the crown. She saw what it did to me—what it was turning me into—and she couldn’t stay."

He took another step, his voice gaining a terrible, unstoppable momentum.

"I spent decades after the Mushroom War—decades—trying to protect Marceline. A little girl who lost everything. And I... I couldn’t even give her a real father. I gave her this!"

He gestured around at the frozen wasteland.

"A madman in a blue robe, chasing leaves and kidnapping princesses."

Ice King whimpered, shuffling back.

Simon pressed on, voice breaking.

"And now? Now I'm trapped in a body that doesn’t even belong to me anymore. Every time I breathe, I hear your stupid laugh in the back of my skull. Every time I try to move forward, you pull me back."

Tears blurred his vision. He didn’t care.

"I can’t live like this!" Simon shouted. "I can’t—"

His knees buckled. He dropped down into the snow, hands shaking, body wracked with sobs he couldn’t hold back anymore.

"I just want my life back," he whispered into the empty, cold air. "I want my old life. I want Betty. I want the world before it all fell apart."

The snow landed softly on his bowed head.

Across from him, Ice King began to sob, big wet blubbering sobs that echoed weirdly through the wasteland.

"I’m sorry!" Ice King wailed. "I didn’t ask to be born! I didn’t ask to be crazy! I didn’t want to be some broken old wizard who doesn't even know how to fix it!"

He wiped his nose dramatically on his sleeve, sniffing loudly.

"I just wanna be happy," he hiccupped. "I just wanna play games and have penguin friends and not feel like everything’s broken."

Simon lifted his head slowly.

Their eyes met—his, bloodshot and hollow; Ice King’s, wide and glistening with tears.

Simon’s voice cracked, barely audible.

"I miss Betty."

The snow seemed to sigh.

Ice King hugged himself, sniffling.

"I miss Gunther," he whispered.

And for a moment—just a moment—the storm stilled around them.

Two broken men, kneeling in the ruins of a life neither could truly have again.

One grieving a love lost.
One grieving a life he never asked for.

Both trapped.

Both alone.

Together.

Notes:

Alright, Final stretch.

Chapter 11: The final solution... maybe?

Summary:

Finn peppermint butler, and pb use Ice king as a battery to charge up the final solution.

INT. CANDY KINGDOM – BASEMENT LABS

The air down here was thick with stale sugar fumes and the faint hum of ancient machinery. Broken lab equipment lay scattered across the sticky tile floors. Syrup dripped from the cracked ceiling in lazy, sickly globs.

Finn stumbled through the doorway, half-carrying, half-dragging Simon’s unconscious body, with Peppermint Butler racing nervously ahead.

"Princess! Princess Bubblegum!" Finn shouted, his voice echoing down the flickering, half-lit halls.

They rounded a corner—and found her.

Princess Bubblegum lay slumped over her lab desk, a cracked beaker still clutched in one limp hand. Her pink hair was mussed, lab coat stained with soot and syrup.

Finn’s heart lurched.

"Oh no, no no no—" He rushed forward, still juggling Simon awkwardly.

Pepbut skidded up beside her, poking her lightly. "Princess?"

She groaned faintly but didn’t wake.

Pepbut bit his lip. "She’s out cold. Probably exhaustion mixed with low-grade syrup exposure. We need to stimulate her mind!"

Finn blinked. "What?"

"Quick! Give her a math problem!"

Finn looked blank.

Pepbut shoved him. "ANY MATH PROBLEM!"

Finn panicked.

"UH—WHAT’S NINE TIMES NINETEEN?!"

Bubblegum shot upright so fast she almost headbutted Finn.

"Einhundertneunundsechzig!" she barked in flawless German.

Finn yelped and staggered back.

Bubblegum blinked rapidly, switching back to English mid-sentence.

"—which is one hundred sixty-nine! Whew."

She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs, then immediately locked eyes with Finn and Pepbut—then with Simon’s limp body.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" she snapped.

Finn, catching his breath, quickly laid Simon down on the table beside her.

"It's a lot," he said. "Infected citizens. Magic syrup zombies. One of the Gumball Guardians is super messed up—and Simon’s flipping between himself and Ice King again."

Bubblegum’s eyes darkened immediately.

She grabbed a sample container from her belt and flicked it under the nearest sticky glob of infected syrup dripping from the ceiling.

She held it up to the lab lights, squinting.

Tiny black veins writhed in the syrup like living threads.

She hissed through her teeth. "This isn’t science."

Finn blinked. "Uh. What?"

Bubblegum turned sharply to Peppermint Butler. "It’s magic. Dark magic. Corrupted necromancy.*"

Pepbut nodded solemnly. "I feared as much."

He rubbed his tiny chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps... we could redirect the infection?"

Bubblegum raised an eyebrow. "How?"

Pepbut pulled out slightly under the lab lights.
"We could send it to the Land of the Dead. It's already halfway there, spiritually speaking. Just nudge the rest over."

Finn opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

"...I have literally no idea what you guys are talking about," he said helplessly.

Pepbut pointed dramatically at the beaker of infected syrup.

"We open a portal to the Dead Worlds!" he said brightly. "We siphon the dark magic into it! Presto! Problem solved!"

Finn looked at Bubblegum desperately.

Bubblegum tapped her chin, already running calculations at light speed.

"Risky," she muttered. "The infection could mutate mid-transfer if we mess up the gate stabilization. But if we tune it to the right spectral frequency..."

Finn squinted. "Like... tuning a guitar?"

Pepbut and Bubblegum both gave him matching patronizing smiles.

Finn threw up his hands. "I’m gonna pretend I know what’s happening."

Meanwhile, on the table, Simon stirred slightly, his body shivering, little wisps of frost curling from his fingertips.

Bubblegum glanced at him, frowning.

"We’ll need to hurry," she said. "will deal with Simon later, Right now we need to help the rest of the kingdom."

Pepbut cracked his knuckles.

"I’ll prep the death portal."

Finn turned green.

"You guys say that like it’s NORMAL."

Bubblegum grabbed a soldering wand and a glowing wrench.

"Because it is, Finn."

She gave a grim smile.

"In Ooo... it’s just Tuesday."

'THE CANDY TAVERN'

The candy citizens hudled together closely, whimpering quitely as infected citizens roam from outside searching to spread the infection.

The cotton candy girl snuggled closer to her mom, whispering" Is it going to be okay, Mommy?", her cotton candy mom looked down with pity and mask of hope. "I'm sure it is, sweetie. Finn the human has been known for saving the day countless times, and im sure he left us in good hands."

Outside, one of the infected candy people finally noticed the ice guards, well... guarding the candy tavern and stumbled over to one of them.
"Hey!" one of the guards raised their spear, his voice pitched even higher. "You cannot enter this premises! Ice king's orders, now hit the road, scum!" The guard protests poking the infected citizen away.

But instead of attacking, it just stood back. "AHWOGA!" the infected citizen howled, as multiple other infected citizens cornered the ice guards.

dead silence.

"W-well em. This is awkward." one of the guards piped up.

"EVERYONE REMEMBER YOUR TRAINING!" That same guard yelled out. "B-but we have no training!?" "JUST DO RANDOM SHIT WITH YOUR SPEAR!" The guard yelled back as they all started swinging around their spears and whacking the infected citizens, striking them back away to fight them back.

'BACK TO SIMON'S MIND'

The endless blizzard whispered around them.

Simon sat slumped in the snow, shoulders hunched, fingers twitching from exhaustion.
He couldn’t cry anymore. He couldn’t even scream.

Ice King sat awkwardly beside him, plucking at the ends of his frost-bitten robe.

He peeked at Simon—then hesitated—then said, in a voice more fragile than usual:

"...Can I help?"

Simon didn’t look at him.

Ice King fidgeted.

"I know I'm... a lot," he said. "Like, way too much sometimes. But... if you want... I could take the wheel for a little? Y'know? Fix the gooey candy mess? Actually help?"

Simon exhaled a shaky breath.

He closed his eyes.

He was so tired.

What was the point of fighting anymore?

"Fine," he rasped. "Just... don't make it worse."

Ice King’s face lit up in a dopey, lopsided smile.

"I pinky promise!"

He held up a frostbitten pinky.

Simon didn’t move.

Inside, he just... let go.

The storm around them shifted.

And Ice King stood up, stretching like a cat who'd just been given a kingdom to rule.

INT. CANDY KINGDOM – BASEMENT LAB

Simon’s body shuddered violently—and Ice King snapped awake in control.

"WOOP! I'M BACK, BABY!" he shouted, startling Finn, PB, and Pepbut.

Peppermint Butler, who had been adjusting runic plates around the syrup sample, screamed and flailed backward as Ice King’s huge white beard flopped right into his face.

"AAAH! IT'S ATTACKING ME!" Pepbut squealed, scrambling on the floor.

Ice King just chuckled and twirled his beard like a jump rope.

Finn caught him by the shoulder. "Chill, man. We actually need you."

Pepbut peeled himself off the floor, adjusting his suit grumpily.

"Focus!" Bubblegum barked, tossing a small metal box at Finn.

"We have the portal device almost ready," she said. "But we’re going to need a lot more magic to suck up the full infection."

Pepbut added, tugging at his hood, "A steady, chaotic, unstable magical flow would be perfect!"

All eyes turned slowly to Ice King.

He was busy balancing a goo-covered clipboard on his nose.

Finn sighed. "Perfect."

Bubblegum tossed Finn the enchanted jumper cables, still sparking faintly from their earlier use.

"Hook him up," she said.

Finn grinned despite himself. "This is gonna be algebra-level dumb."

EXT. CANDY KINGDOM – CASTLE ROOFTOP

The wind howled as the four of them burst onto the roof of the castle.

Above them, the portal device—an unstable, humming ring of candy-metal and magic runes—hovered between two spires.

Bubblegum set up her console. Pepbut unfurled grimy ritual scrolls across the icy floor.

Finn knelt beside Ice King, clipping one end of the jumper cables to his sleeve, the other end to the portal rig.

Ice King buzzed with static energy, twitching gleefully.

"I'm GONNA BE A BATTERY!" he sang.

Finn wiped his hands and stood back. "Alright. Just... channel the crazy into the portal. No freeze rays. No penguin attacks."

Ice King saluted.

"AYE-AYE, CAPTAIN BUMBLEPANTS!"

Bubblegum barked orders over the howling wind.

"Power up in three—two—"

A massive shadow fell over the rooftop.

They all froze.

The infected Gumball Guardian—twisted, syrup-dripping, black veins pulsing—had climbed halfway up the crumbling castle walls.

Its dull, cracked candy eyes locked onto them.

It groaned—a monstrous, glitchy sound—and raised its giant, syrup-covered fists.

Finn cursed under his breath, reaching for his sword.

"Incoming trouble!" he shouted.

Pepbut panicked, grabbing a ritual candle like it was a weapon.

Bubblegum’s fingers flew across her console.

Ice King just giggled and twirled the jumper cables like nunchucks.

The portal shuddered, lights flickering.

They had seconds.

One wrong move, and everything would collapse.

The air shimmered with unstable magic.
The half-formed portal spun dangerously above the castle spires, sparking and hissing like a wounded storm.

And the infected Gumball Guardian roared.

FWEEEEE-SHHHH!

Twin beams of corrupted syrup-laser energy blasted from its cracked eyes.

"INCOMING!" Finn bellowed, diving to the side.

One laser obliterated a section of the roof, sending candy bricks and molten syrup raining everywhere.

Peppermint Butler, sweat pouring down his tiny candy face, threw up both arms and muttered a harsh, ancient incantation.

A dark magic forcefield snapped into place around the group—shadowy, unstable, flickering at the edges.

The syrup lasers bounced harmlessly off it... for now.

"YO, Pepbut! how'd you do that man?!" Finn blurted.

"I-I've been practicing more denfensive spells, also. I CAN'T HOLD IT FOREVER!" Pepbut wheezed, his peppermint stripes flickering pale. "I need to open the portal NOW!"

Bubblegum scrambled at her console, hands flying across controls.

Finn, panting hard, whirled toward Ice King—who was just standing there, jumper cables sparking around him, humming a happy tune.

"Ice King!" Finn shouted. "DO SOMETHING!"

Ice King blinked.

Then he grinned wide.

"YOU GOT IT, CHIEF!"

With a wild, gleeful whoop his long white beard, stretched out like wings—

—and FLAPPED.

It never made sense.

It never have to.

With one mighty flap of his ridiculous beard, Ice King lifted off the rooftop, wobbling through the air like a drunken bird.

"BEARD WINGS, BABY!" he crowed as he clipped off the cables

Finn’s jaw dropped mid-dodge. "WHAT THE—"

Ice King swooped toward the Gumball Guardian, cackling, ice magic crackling at his fingertips.

"YOU THINK YOU’RE SO TOUGH?!" he shouted. "I'VE FOUGHT WIZARDS TALLER THAN YOU! AND ALSO SHORTER! SIZE IS IRRELEVANT!"

Finn slashed at a chunk of falling debris, shouting after him, "Don’t get blasted!"

Ice King grinned over his shoulder, eyes wild with chaotic joy.

"What’s it gonna do—knock my crown off?"

Finn’s stomach twisted—but he couldn’t help the tiniest, terrified laugh.

No crown.
No mind control.
Just Ice King—wild, broken, free—choosing to fight.

Ice King hurled ice chains from his fingertips as he swooped past the Guardian’s massive legs, wrapping them in thick, jagged bindings.
The Gumball Guardian stumbled, syrup leaking heavily from its cracked armor, struggling to free itself.

Peppermint Butler gritted his teeth, sweat pouring from his brow, runes glowing around his trembling hands.

"The portal is ready!" he gasped. "I just need... a little longer...!"

The infection writhed and screamed around the rooftop, the syrup itself starting to bubble, desperate to escape.

Finn gritted his teeth, sword raised, facing the Guardian.

"Alright, people!" he barked. "Hold it together!"

Above them, the portal shimmered open—black and gold and spinning like a storm into the Land of the Dead.

And beneath it—The wind screamed across the castle towers, carrying with it the heavy, syrup-thick scent of corrupted magic.

Above it all, Ice King circled wildly in the broken night sky, his enormous beard flapping and propelling him like the world's saddest, most ridiculous bird.

"WHEEEEE!" he cackled as he weaved through the blasts of chaos, barely dodging another runic laser fired from the infected Gumball Guardian.

The first beam missed by inches, slicing through a candy chimney like butter, sending it crumbling into syrupy rubble.

Ice King laughed breathlessly, flapping harder.

"You gotta aim better than that, Big Boy!" he shouted.

The Guardian growled, an awful, mechanical sound that rumbled the stones.

It retaliated with a sweeping slap, one massive syrup-dripping arm swinging up through the air like a wrecking ball.

Ice King shrieked like a cat thrown into a pool and barely twisted out of the way, the force of the swing sending him spiraling off course.

He righted himself mid-air, wobbling.

"You missed again!" he taunted, sticking his tongue out.

The Guardian’s candy breathed in and opened his mouth slightly—
And to Ice King’s utter surprise—

It breathed fire.

A cone of a brillant yellow and orange flames roared out of its mouth, jetting straight for him.

"OH GLOB, WHAT?!" Ice King howled, yanking himself upward with a desperate flap of his beard-wings.

The flames licked at the soles of Simon's shoes as he spiraled higher, the heat curling the ends of his frostbeard slightly.

Below, Finn ducked behind a busted spire, shielding Bubblegum and Pepbut with his body as the fire splashed harmlessly against the rooftop barriers.

"New rule!" Finn shouted. "No directing fire to the castle!"

Ice King didn’t hear him.

He was too busy throwing out desperate ice blasts, firing shards of frost at the Guardian's legs, joints, and cracks wherever he could see weakness.

The first few blasts skittered uselessly across the pink body.

But Ice King was nothing if not persistent.

He swooped low, weaving through the Guardian’s flailing arms, and slammed a focused ice bolt right into the creature’s left knee-joint.

Cracks spidered out.

"BINGO!" Ice King whooped.

Another shot at the right ankle—another crack.

Another blast under the left arm—weakening the syrup-sealed joints.

Each hit slowed the Guardian a little more.
Its movements became jerkier, stiffer, the syrup inside hissing and freezing.

Finally—
With a manic cry, Ice King summoned thick, gnarled chains of ice from the storm clouds above.

They whipped down, wrapping around the Guardian’s legs, torso, arms, and head in twisting, crackling loops.

The Gumball Guardian roared in frustration, straining, syrup leaking from its seams.

But it was trapped.

Barely.

Ice King flapped and wobbled back toward the rooftop, landing hard in a pile of crunchy candy rubble.

He staggered upright, grinning deliriously at Finn, Pepbut, and Bubblegum.

"Mission accomplished, nerds!" he cheered.

Finn grabbed the jumper cables and frantically clipped them back onto Ice King’s arms.

"Now, now, now!" Bubblegum barked.

Pepbut muttered the final words of the dark magic incantation, raising both arms toward the shimmering, unstable portal to the Land of the Dead.

The portal flared, lightning-fast tendrils of spectral gold and black energy lashing out.

They pierced into the syrup-infected ground, the frozen candy citizens, and even the twisted Gumball Guardian.

The infected syrup screamed—a high, piercing sound that wasn’t entirely physical—as it was sucked upward, draining into the portal like smoke pulled through a keyhole.

It was working.

The infection was leaving.

For a single, glorious moment—
They were winning.

Ice King—grinning ear to ear—swayed slightly, magic pouring out of him into the portal, keeping it alive, feeding it everything he had.

Finn gripped his sword tighter, watching the last threads of syrup unravel and spiral upward.

Bubblegum muttered rapid calculations, adjusting the portal’s stability.

Pepbut strained, sweat flying off his tiny candy face.

Almost there—

Almost—

FWEEEEEEE-SHHHH!

One last desperate runic laser fired from the still half-infected Guardian, slipping through a gap in the ice chains.

The blast hit Ice King square in the chest, sending the manic wizard flying out of the candy kingdom like speeding blue comet.

"AAAGH!"

He was blasted backward, the jumper cables snapping free, smoke curling from his battered suit.

He crashed against the rooftop, bouncing once before lying still.

"SIMON!" Finn shouted, running toward him.

The portal crackled violently, almost closing—

But the last of the infection had already been siphoned away.

The Candy Kingdom was safe.

The Guardian collapsed in a syrupy heap.

The portal shuddered one final time—and snapped shut with a crack like thunder.

Silence fell over the rooftop.

Broken. Exhausted.
But alive.

Finn's eyes followed Ice King—no, Simon's—body fly across the candy kingdom, right outside the gates.

Pepbut stumbled to Finn’s side, panting.

"...Is he—?"

Finn nodded, grim but relieved.

"Hopefully, Alive."

Bubblegum slumped against her console, exhaling a shaking breath.

"...We did it."

For now.

But as they took a second to recollect themselves, Finn bolted downstairs and out of the castle to find Simon petrikov.

Chapter 12: Accepted the madness (part 1)

Summary:

Does somebody jump for joy? Does somebody cry?
Now that I have, accepted that sadness?

The Candy Kingdom, battered but alive, stretched under the soft glow of a new morning.

The syrup infection was gone.

The corrupted Gumball Guardian lay inert, frozen in place.

Candy citizens stumbled out of hiding, confused but safe.

And outside the battered gates, lying still outside of the candy kingdom, was Simon Petrikov.

His black suit was tattered.
His bowtie hung loose.
But he was breathing—slow, steady, fragile.

The wind shifted around him, warm now, carrying the first hints of spring.

INT. SIMON'S MIND – THE FROZEN WASTELAND

The blizzard had softened.

The roaring, endless storm was gone, replaced by a quiet snowfall.
The sky—black, pitchless ,and broken for so long—began to crack open with weak beams of sunlight.

Simon stood in the middle of it, arms wrapped around himself, breath fogging the cold air.

Across from him, Ice King stood—not flailing, not giggling, not running away.

Just... standing.

Silent.

Simon took a slow step forward, shoes crunching through the thick snow.

He hesitated—then spoke, voice low, uncertain.

"...Thank you."

Ice King blinked, startled.

"For... saving them," Simon said. "For saving me."

For a long moment, Ice King said nothing.

Then he smiled—but it was a small, sad thing.
Not his usual dopey grin.
Something real.

"I’m glad my dum butt good for something," Ice King said softly.

Simon winced at the words.

"Not something," he said. "Someone."

Ice King shook his head, scattering little snowflakes from his hair.

"I dunno," he said, voice cracking a little. "Feels like I was always just... a leftover. A mess. A bunch of bad instincts stitched together."

He hugged his arms around himself tightly, like he was trying to stay warm.

"I wanna to be happy, Man" he said. "I wanna to be good. I wanna... I dunno.be with my Friends.My gunther."

He looked up, eyes shining with tears.

"But every time I tried to be better... it was like the world already decided what I was. A joke. A pest. A... monster."

Simon swallowed hard.

The snow around them softened further.
The cold pulling back.

"I know," Simon whispered.

Ice King’s voice broke entirely now.

"I don’t wanna disappear," he said. "I don’t wanna just be... nothing again."

He looked at Simon, terrified.

"I wanna live. I wanna be more than... whatever made me."

Simon stepped closer, something deep inside cracking open.

"I do too," he said.

They stood there, facing each other, two halves of the same broken soul.

Simon trembled—not from the cold, but from the weight of it all.

"I can't keep fighting you," Simon said, voice shaking. "And you can’t keep pretending nothing happened."

He reached out, slowly.

"So let's stop pretending."

Ice King stared at his hand.

"You mean...?"

Simon nodded.

"We’re not Ice King. We're not just Simon.
We’re both."

The snowflakes shimmered around them, floating higher, glowing faintly.

"If we’re going to live," Simon said, "really live... we have to do it together."

Ice King’s hand hovered in the air.

Scared. Hopeful.

Then—he grabbed Simon’s hand.

The instant their fingers touched—

Light exploded outward.

and darkness.

EXT. CANDY KINGDOM – OUTSKIRTS – MORNING

The Candy Kingdom glowed gently in the early morning light, the syrup-infection wiped clean.
The battered Gumball Guardian lay inert and harmless.

Outside the broken gates, sprawled in the grass, Simon Petrikov lay unconscious, his body battered but intact.

Finn sprinted toward him first, sword bouncing against his back, heart pounding.

"Simon! Simon, dude, c’mon!" Finn cried out.

Behind him, Princess Bubblegum and Peppermint Butler rushed forward, Pepbut clutching an emergency magic kit to his chest.

Finn dropped to his knees beside Simon, shaking his shoulders.

No response.

Simon’s chest rose and fell—alive—but barely.

Finn looked up at PB, desperation in his voice.

"He’s breathing, but he’s not waking up!"

PB leaned over, scanning Simon with a flickering handheld scanner, frowning deeply.

Pepbut muttered a soft spell to check for dark magic—but even he looked uncertain.

For a moment—
just a moment—
everything was silent.

And then—

The world changed.

The sky and grass and air around them bled away into black and white.

Color drained from everything, like the kingdom itself was holding its breath.

Finn staggered back, staring around wildly.

"WH—WHAT’S HAPPENING?!"

Pepbut shrieked and clung to PB's lab coat.

Princess Bubblegum gritted her teeth, gripping Finn’s arm.

"Something’s happening inside him," she said grimly. "Something... big."

Simon’s body twisted unnaturally, as if pulled by invisible threads.

The black-and-white world seemed to focus on him—his figure turning pure black, his eyes snapping open, glowing white and empty.

The ground rumbled beneath them.

Simon’s black form twisted and expanded, grotesque, impossible—

Splitting into two giant black heads, connected at the neck by writhing strands of dark energy.

One head—
A wild-eyed Ice King, hair and beard billowing madly, mouth stretched in a manic laugh, pupils massive and spinning.

The other head—
Simon—sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming down his black face, his features twisted in pure grief.

Finn stumbled back in horror, clutching his sword with shaking hands.

Pepbut hid behind Bubblegum, whispering terrified prayers under his breath.

The two heads howled—one in laughter, one in sorrow—twisting and folding into each other, a horrible, beautiful dance of madness and pain.

The black mass shrank inward, folding into itself again and again, the cries merging into one long, low, aching note that shook the air.

Simon’s body reformed—

The blackness peeled away like ash in the wind.

And the world—

Snapped back into color.

The grass was green again.
The sky was blue.
The syrup was gone.

And lying there, curled weakly on the grass, was...

Simon.

But different.

Finn, PB, and Pepbut crept closer, stunned into silence.

Simon’s skin was a soft, light blue—not the harsh icy blue of Ice King, but something gentler, in-between.

His hair, once black with streaks of gray, was now completely white, yet his hair didn't extend further and remained his orginal length.

He had no wild beard, no grotesquely long nose, though he kept the lightning bolt eyebrows.

But it was Just Simon.

Different.
Changed.
Whole.

Finn knelt beside him, voice shaking. "Simon...? Buddy?"

Simon stirred.

Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes.

They were still his—bright, human—but deep inside, they shimmered faintly with frost.

He blinked up at Finn, confusion and exhaustion clouding his face.

"...Is it over?" he whispered.

Finn swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding.

"Yeah, dude," he said, smiling shakily. "It’s over."

Princess Bubblegum just looking at Simon with wide, unbelieving eyes, like she couldn't comprehend what she was staring at.

"His magical signature..." Pepbut muttered. "It’s different now. Stable. Balanced."

Pepbut looked over at Finn, wide-eyed.

"He fused," he whispered. "He’s both... and neither."

Simon sat up slowly, every movement aching.

He looked down at his blue hands, feeling... Ice magic? Without the crazy?

And as if his newfound powers responded to his disbelief, a small spark of ice magic skipped out of his palm, freezing a flower.

"WOAH! WHAT THE HEY HEY SIMON?!" Finn yelped as his tall form stood behind Pb and Pepbut.

Then he looked up at Finn.

"...W-what, what happened to me?" he said softly.

Finn’s smile wobbled but held as he lowered his arms.

"I think you found your new path, dude. Thats what happened."

Simon slowly stood his surprisingly sturdy body up, brushing off his suit.

He took a couple of steps outside the comedically large hole he left in the ground, looking up at the blue sky.

"Well for the first few steps, its not so bad. Thank you, Finn."

"No problem bro, just hero's duty." Finn said softly.

Behind Finn, Pb stopped staring at Simon and looked back at her kingdom.

"Okay, if Simon's all good now then all be back tending to my people. Candy infection cleanup y'know." Bubblegum kindly stated.

"You coming, Peppermint?" She asked. "Always, my lady." Pepbut said as he took Pb's hand.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity as Simon looked towards the trees—
Simon wasn’t fighting.
He wasn’t drowning.

He was just...

Alive.

And somehow—
finally whole.

Notes:

More chapters coming tommorow.

Chapter 13: Fanart chapter!

Summary:

Here's some fanart I made of the fanfic, enjoy!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1mBsSYn9Tzl3sib20LcY8Td95Q4upDOrQ7PP9W_f8CwQ/edit?tab=t.0

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GPV8sOjbG1qYRSQy8XSqz40uHBEXfGD5uicPHXhy2BA/edit?tab=t.0

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yWGpKRMx3QbMfu1LEWSec8AnjlWEvOduIMpyr84NOl8/edit?tab=t.0

Notes:

But seriously, im cooking the next couple of chapters tommorow, I promise.

Chapter 14: Accepted the madness (part 2)

Summary:

Simon and Finn coming home from a long journey of candy infections and Icy curses.

The dirt road stretched out lazy and golden, winding through tall, bending trees that still bore syrupy scars from the infection.

Simon walked with Finn beside him, the younger man bouncing slightly with every step, his sword slung casually across his back.

The air smelled like new rain from the melting snow.

Simon barely noticed.

His eyes stayed down, fixed on his hands.

Hands that were no longer quite his.

The skin was faintly blue, like the last hint of winter clinging to early spring.

When he flexed his fingers, he could feel it—
A whisper of ice magic, tingling through his veins, blooming at his fingertips like a second heartbeat.

It didn’t burn.
It didn’t rage.
It just was.

Familiar, but... wrong.

Like wearing someone else’s favorite coat.

Finn was talking—chattering, really, voice bright and eager in the quiet woods.

"And then BAM! The portal sucked up all the infection, and Pepbut was like 'WOOHOO!' and PB was trying not to faint, and you—dude, you should've seen yourself!"

Simon nodded absently, his thumb running over the palm of his blue hand, feeling the tiny skimming chill.

Finn grinned, completely undeterred.

"You were like a superhero, man! Flying around, flapping your hair—kinda goofy but also, like, kinda rad?"

Simon made a soft sound in his throat, halfway between a hum and a sigh.

Finn, sensing the hesitation but misreading it, plowed ahead.

"I mean, sure, you look a little different now. But honestly?"
He punched Simon lightly in the shoulder.

"This Simon is awesome."

Simon finally looked at him, managing a tired smile.

"Thanks, Finn," he said, voice dry but genuine.

Finn beamed, pushing open the low wooden gate that led up to a small cabin tucked in the trees—Simon's house.

The place looked untouched by the chaos: still a little crooked, still a little sad, but home all the same.

Simon stepped through the gate slowly, trailing one hand across the worn fence.

Finn kept talking as they crunched up the gravel path.

"And it's like—you’re still you, y'know? But now you've got, like... bonus upgrades! Cool hair, magic powers, a new lease on life!"

Simon’s shoes crunched to a halt halfway up the walk.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at melted snow puddle from his first Ice king transformation.

Finn noticed, slowing too.

"You okay, dude?"

Simon stared at his reflection in the puddle.
At the blue skin.
The white hair.
The lightning bolt eyebrows that he would've found cool, but filled him with uncertainty.

He opened his mouth—
Closed it.

Tried again.

"I..." He swallowed. "I'm alright, Finn."

Finn smiled, reassured.

Simon wasn't lying exactly.

But the truth sat heavy behind his ribs, cold and strange.

He didn’t know what he was yet.

Not Simon.
Not Ice King.
Not fully either.

Just... new.

A New Simon Petrikov.

The name felt strange in his mind.

Unworn.

Alien.

Finn clapped him on the back, oblivious to the storm raging under Simon’s calm face.

"You’re gonna be fine, bro," he said. "You’re stronger than you think."

Simon smiled faintly, giving Finn any hope that he'll be alright as he turned to leave.

"Welp, Im off to HW's, she's Probably been missing me all day. Later Simon!" Finn said triumphantly as he turned to leave, Simon just watching as Finn the hero left to another adventure into Huntress wizard's sheets. Probably.

But now it was just Simon, his conflicting thoughts, and his house.

The cabin smelled like old paper, dust, and faintly of frost.

Home.

Sort of.

Simon stepped inside, trailing frost from his shoes without thinking.

Later, when the house was quiet, and the ice magic hummed softly in his veins. Simon would sit at the kitchen table, his blue hands folded carefully together, trying to figure out how to live in this new skin.

But for now—
He was home.

He was alive.

And somewhere deep inside, he hoped—
Maybe that would be enough.

As the antiquarian sat at the kitchen table, his mind really started to race with questions of what he became.

"Who am I?"

"I guess I have magic without the madness, but should I still worry?"

"What if I turn back into Ice king?"

"How would that even happen without having a crown to take off?"

"I-I'm I the crown now?!"

Simon's mind spun, his arms clenched around his form, anixety and fear mixing in his stomach like a bad soup.

It didn't help that he could feel memories of Ice king flooding his mind as well, all these thoughts swirling inside until he looked around him.

Ice just casually growing across the floor and walls as if the world was responding to his emotions. "Okay, okay, Simon. Just try to relax." He whispered to himself, breathing in and out to calm himself down as the ice retracted like claws.

He sighed, getting up from the table to find some food to distract him. He pursued his cabinets for some good ol chicken soup, something nostalgic, Something familiar, and something that was not in his cabinet.

"Oh, dammit." Muttered the antiquarian, not just from the lack of chicken soup, but from where he had to go for more.

Simon would walk outside his cabin and head for the back, stepping over his little tomato garden to look in the barren backyard for his hoverbike.

The gameplan was simple; get to Up-ton, get the chicken soup, leave as swiftly as possible, and pray to any higher power that no one noticed him.

"Glob, where could it b-." His eyes finally rested on the bike laying against the back of the house.

But as Simon stared at it, the memory of Ice king flapping his beard across the land of Ooo dawned on him, his mind wondering. "do I even need this anymore?"

"Nope. nope, nope, nope. Don't need the publicity." Simon said out loud, his mind immediately shot the idea of flying down. But the idea wouldn't leave.

Soaring in the sky with the birds, feeling the wind rush pass his clothes and skin, no longer having to pay for bike repairs.

Simon's jaw tightened as the thought festured, and before Simon could mentally lock it in a box, something strange happened.

His hair flapped. On its own.

A cool gust of wind trinkled down Simon's body, a whispered promise of flight and freedom from bike repair prices.

Simon stood speechless for a second and sharply looked down at his blue hands. He remembered Finn's words. "Your still you, but with bonus Upgrades!"

His blue hands clenched as he marched to the front yard of the cabin, looking up at the evening sky with skepticism. "Just in and out Simon. In and out."

The antiquarian closed his eyes and focused deeply on the vision of soaring the skies, touching the clouds, feeling the breeze flow across his skin. With a simple leap of faith... his hair flapped against the air. Once. then twice. And then plummeting.

Fear ran deeply through Simon as he fell from a pathetic five feet in the air."Oh, oh BREADBAL-!" Simon studdered as he closed his eyes tightly, bracing for impact until he opened them again.

Simon's face was near inches from the grass, looking around frantically as he instinctively try to move only to tumble mid air into a tree.

"Aggh, come on Simon! Just-." FLOSSSH! One second, Simon was mere inches from the ground and next he was floating above the trees, disoriented for less than a moment until he looked at his surroundings.

It was only for a few seconds, yet it felt like hours of just staring in awe at the brilliant sunset, marveling at what his newfound power provided for him, the only sounds were his flapping hair, and the sweet breeze rolling by.

It felt so effortless. It felt so thrilling.

But he had some soup to get.

He struggled a bit to really fly at first, but slowly he learned to move his body through air like a bird, pulling his arms back and have his hair flap him forward. "Okay, time for that chicken soup." he muttered as he began to soar.

It was like a flight simulator had a baby with riding a bike, very hard to pick up at first, but very rewarding to master.

But as he was heading to Up-ton, the questions of who he was now still plauged Simon petrikov. But now he had a response.

Multiple questions in the the form of a very familiar song, though slightly altered.

 

"Does somebody jump for joy? Does somebody cry? Now that I have, accepted that sadness." The lyrics trickled out of Simon's mouth like a barely running faucet. not loud. Not big, or grand. Just barely there.

Simon flew into the futuristic city pass floating cars and signs, spoting the soup store immediately. Though what he feared unfortunately happened to are poor antiquarian.

"Yo, is that Ice king?! Where's his crown though?!" One citizen yelped. "Yo man, I don't give a fuck! take the picture, take the picture!" A small flash went unnoticed by the antiquarian, his frown dropping as he continued to sing.

"Does somebody know me now? Now that I can fly? Now that I have, accepted the madness." He arrived at the soup store, most of the time there going by like a blur, though the lyrics still trickled from Simon's mouth.

"Accepted the madness. Accepted the madness. Accepted the madness." He whispered under his breath as he bought the soup cans and headed outside, a large group of people waiting for him with flashing cameras in hand.

Yo! yo, yo, yo! I wasn't lying, its really him!" The same Up-ton citizen reaffirmed to the crowd.

Simon a lifetime ago would've greeted them with grand announcements with his latest journeys and artifacts.

But now? he was simply annoyed. Simon's face frowned, not even flinching at the flashing cameras, flapping his hair awkwardly until he left the Up-ton rejects in the dust, without answering a single question. Not that he remembered any.

As he was flying out the city, more lyrics came to him naturally. "Laughter and screams still echo faintly, yet im content with them around. Somewhere the roller coster climbs and dives, while I've got my head in the clouds."

He clutched his bag of soup as he arrived at his house, along with more lyrics. "Aren't I so much better now, that I'm just an Icy guy?" he sung as he landed gracefully, surprising Simon for a momment before walking up the steps.

 

"Now that I have." He said as he closed the door and hanged up his jackie.

 

"Now that I have." He muttered as he placed his soup on the kitchen table.

 

"Now that I have. Accepted the madness." He whispered, as he looked at a picture of Betty on the wall. And the final lyrics came.

"Should I be much better now, that I'm just an Icy guy?" He sang as if he was singing to the picture. But he presisted with the soup.

"Now that I have." He continued with turning on the stove.

 

"Now that I have." As he placed the soup into the pot and cooked it.

 

"Now that I have." As he dumped the cooked soup in a bowl and gently placed it on the table.

 

"Accepted that sadness."

"Accepted that badness."

"Accepted that radness."

Accepted th-. My madness." Simon sang over the food as if it was a prayer, and began to eat. He ate not as the one slice of stale pizza Ice king. But as the whole pie, Simon petrikov.

Notes:

WOOOOO BOI! THIS TOOK FOREVER TO COOK! Hope you all enjoy it though.😁😁

Chapter 15: Accepted the madness (part 3)

Summary:

Finally bringing Marceline into this! Hope your ready to cry!

'THE CANDY TAVERN REBUILT'

Marceline the vampire queen was having the time of her unlimited life. She was singing a concert at the tavern after something about a "candy infection" from her beautiful girlfriend, Bubblegum.

But at the momment, she didn't care.

The crowd was cheering, drinks were being thrown across the room, she could still hear candy people chanting her name.

"MARCELINE! MARCELINE! MARCELINE!" Candy citizens chanted, some even twirling marceline shirts that she started selling, cause why not?

But that all changed when a certain someone walked into the tavern.

Marceline didn't notice him at first while floating around, the mircophone still in her hand as she sung. But when she turned to point at the auidence, there he was.

Simon petrikov. But he looked... different.

He was sitting on one of the stools, admiring his daughter from a distance. But he was blue. His hair was white, his brows were lightning bolts, and she could see sharp teeth peeking in his mouth.

Marceline's undead heart dropped.

"No way." She thought. "how could- did he put it back on?" Marceline stopped singing, the auidence collectively groaned in frustration. "Chill guys, Im- I just need a minute to freshen up. BRB." She said as she hung up the mircophone, went invisible and floated towards Simon.

"Huh?" Simon said as his eyes squinted as he lost track of Marceline, little did he know she was staring him down only mere inches away.

And within seconds, Simon felt an invisible force tug him from his jacket. "AHHH! AHHHHH!!!!" He screamed as he was dragged out of the Tavern, his hands already sparking with Ice magic and ready to attack.

He was yeeted ontop the roof, immediately getting up and adjusting his glasses, ready to face who the hell was dragging him. "Alright, whoever's doing this, am armed and dangerous!" he screamed out to seemingly no one, his hands crackling with Ice magic.

"Boo." Marceline said bluntly behind Simon, finally dropping the invisibility.

 

"AHHH!! DON'T HURT ME! IM JUST A OLD MAN FROM THE 21st CENTURY THAT NO ONE CARES ABOUT!" He yelped as he fired a bolt of Ice lightning from his palm that Marceline swiftly dodged.

"You know I do. Right Simon?" Marceline said calmly as Simon finally looked at her. "Marceline. MARCELINE! Oh, Im sorry, I just wanted to talk I-. Alot of stuff went down and I figured you should know." Simon said somberly.

Marceline smiled a little, her fangs poking out a little. "Well, glad to know I'm not excluded from your old man sadness. But also." She floated closer, holding Simon firmly by the arms and staring him down.

"WHAT. THE HELL. HAPPENED TO YOU?" The vampire said bluntly, scanning Simon top to bottom. "Well I uh, AGGUH!" Simon managed to get out before Marceline opened up his jaw, inspecting his sharp teeth as if she was the world's greatest dentist.

"Like dude! your blue, your hair is so white i can't even make out any dandruff in it, and your eyebrows are shaped like friggin lightning bolts! What happened to you?" Simon gently pulled Marcy's hands off him, recomposed himself and sat up straight. He took a deep breath and finally spilled.

"You remember the gum war and how GOLB showed up? And Betty had to fuse to it to save everyone?" Simon asked.

"I'm not well versed on magic, but yeah. Why?" Simon looked out to the moon as he continued. "Betty used the crown to make a wish. it was mainly to keep me safe, but had the unfortunate consquence fusing her to GOLB. You really don't know how much I wish that was it."

Marceline's brows furrowed with sadness. "So how did you get all blue and junk?"

Simon sighed, looking down for a minute. "It was Betty's wish. magic wishes have a monkey's paw effects. They'll give you what you want, but for a price. Betty wanted me to be safe and the wish interpeted as 'Ice king being inside me to come out if I was in danger.'" Simon stated.

"You don't know how devestated I was when I found out, Marcy. It wasn't even just the madness in my head again, it was that I thought I let Betty down. That I let you down. That I let myself down." Simon's eyes prickled with small tears, Marceline tensing at how deeply this affected Simon.

The whole world dissappeared around them. It was just Marcy, Simon, and the sadness of everything that had happened.

"So, what ya do?" Marceline asked.

Simon smiled softly as he looked up at the stars. "I-I've accepted it."

"Wha-. Whatta you mean 'accepted' it? Don't you hate that stupid thing?" Marceline questioned, her voice rising a bit.

"I know it sounds weird, but I realized something relatively grim about all this. I was... never truly going to be free from him. from Ice king." Simon said as if he realized the dark meaning of life or something.

"What?" Marceline muttered, not liking the sound of this.

"Even before this wish loophole, people still reminded me and haunted me of who I used to be. I can still to this day, hear the laughter and screams of Ice king in my head. And now, he came back as some weird second personality in my head Marcy." Simon gestured his hands while explaining all of this, Marceline still being confused and little on edge at what Simon was saying.

"I still... know who I am Marcy, I still know who you are and what we've been through together." Simon reassured, holding Marcy's hand, though the cool touch made her pull back slightly.

"I-I dunno Simon." the words fell out of her mouth, uncertain yet real.

Marceline replayed Everything she was just told.

The dreams.
The conversations inside his mind.
The choice he made—not to destroy Ice King, but to accept him.

To become both.

Though the idea wasn't comforting, not after what Marcy witnessed with Simon in the past.

"So..." she said slowly. "You're not just Simon anymore?"

He hesitated.

"Not just Simon," he said. "Not just Ice King either."

Marceline bit her lip, turning to face him fully now.

She wanted to believe what he was saying that the man who sat next to her was Simon petrikov.

But then a memory came to her, that only added to her uncertainty.

when she was just a child, traveling with Simon through the ruins of the world, and they heard something rustling in the bushes.

Simon swiftly placed her into a car as always.

"Simon!" Marcy called out in a whisper, tugging him by his white beard. "ow,ow,ow,ow,ow." He yelped, surprisingly still whispering.

"Your not going to put it on are you?" She asked with worry in her heart. "I have to, to protect us." He informed. "But you'll start acting weird again!" "Don't worry I can control it better now." Simon said quickly, as if he was itching to go put that stupid thing on. Again.

And now, Marceline looked at Simon as he was now, essentially saying that same thing. That same lie.

Nope. Not again.

Marceline floated back from Simon, scoffing, resuming her smile and saying, "Yeah, that's cool, literally. Welp, I got my concert to continue, later Simon!"

But as Marceline was about to float back down, Simon piped up with, "Wait, What?" standing suddenly, telling something was off. "Its just 'cool' Marcy?". Marceline stopped, back still turned away. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just gotten dupped by some wish loophole, No biggee." She quipped. "Kinda wish you could stay longer." She muttered under her breath.

"Wait what? What do you mean 'say longe-, Marcy where are you going?" Marceline was still floating down back to the tavern, Simon attempting to follow via flapping his hair, only to fall on his face.

He stood up, jogging slightly to Marceline about to enter the Tavern. "Marcy, please! I'm not going anywhere!" He pleaded, though Marcy still couldn't bare to face him. to painful now.

But she kept up a brave face, or voice at least. "It's fine, really Simon! You don't need to worr-." Simon's hand was about to reach to her shoulder. "Well why won't you look at m-." "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Marceline screamed as she pushed Simon back, her face now monstrous and her eyes a crimson red.

Yet there were tears in her eyes.

Tears, and regret.

Simon sat up not with fury, but with understanding. And what followed as an even deeper sorrow.

"Marcy, my fearless Mar-" "NO! NO, NO, NO! D-DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Marcy snapped, her monstrous features fading at least.

"Simon, I know how this is going to play out!" Marceline affirmed sharply.

"Marcy pleas-."

"You're going to act normal, pretend you can control it, that your still Simon. BUT YOUR NOT! You're going to lose yourself, start acting like Ice king, start rambling about goddamn Gunther or whatever, Forget my name and leave!"

"Well, what makes you think it's not different now?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!!!" Marceline screamed.

The world felt silent around them. There was no crickets or candy citizens to be heard, just Marceline's knees and her tears hitting the ground.

"I really don't know." She whispered.

Simon stared at his essentially adopted Daughter, really grasping the gravity of how much He hurt her.

How could it go so wrong? Over a dumb joke, over putting some stupid artifact on his head for Betty's laughter.

But before Simon could reach out, Marceline was already getting up and wiping her tears.

"We. We can talk about this later, Simon. I gotta concert to finish. Bye." She lamented, as she floated back into the Candy tavern.

Simon didn't bother to stop her. He just stood up, brushed off his clothes and was preparing to fly back to his lonely cabin in the woods.

On the way back, he sung. "Accepted the madness. Accepted the madness. Accepted the madness." As he flew across the land of Ooo.

Notes:

Sorry for the delay! I'll try my absolute hardest to upload daily from now on! enjoy the angst!

Chapter 16: Minerva the human.

Summary:

SIKKKKKKKKEEEEEEE DOUBLE UPLOAD BABY! Decided to take a small break from the Simon angst and introduce another player into this story. Hope you enjoy!!

HUMAN ISLANDS – SCIENCE SECTOR – RECLAMATION FACILITY

The room hummed softly with the low, mechanical pulse of ancient machines.
Somewhere in the sterile white distance, a bank of old servers blinked quietly, each light a heartbeat.

Minerva Campbell opened her eyes.

For the first time in... she didn’t even know how long.

At first, everything was blinding.
Colors too bright, sharp as knives.
Sounds too layered and deep.
The gentle hiss of air recycling through vents roared like a waterfall in her ears.

She gasped — a real, ragged gasp that tore through her newly formed lungs, burning her throat raw.

Her hand jerked upward instinctively, fingers trembling.

Flesh.

Not metal.
Not code.

Flesh.

She stared, wide-eyed, at her own hand. Pale and trembling with tiny spasms of new life.

The skin was real.
The tiny, nearly invisible hairs were real.

She flexed her fingers — marveling at the delicate symphony of tendons and nerves firing in perfect chaotic order.

She felt the faint scrape of her palm against the scratchy blanket someone had laid over her body.

Touch.

Actual touch.

Her chest hitched again, the breath too overwhelming, and she pressed both hands to her ribs, feeling the frantic hammering of her heartbeat.

So loud.
So messy.
So alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to calm.

It took minutes — maybe hours — before she could sit up.

Her newfound human eyes looked to the table next to her pod, her signature white cap with the letter T on it.

Her legs dangled weakly off the side of the pod she had been lying in to get to it.

Her bare toes brushed cold tile.

The shock of it made her shiver.

Cold.

Temperature.

She had forgotten.

Tears welled up unbidden, blurring the sterile world around her into smears of light and color.

She let them fall.

For once, no data-stream, no emergency code, no blinking notification telling her to regulate her emotional output.

Just... crying.

Messy, hiccuping crying.

Because she could, as she grabbed her hat and placed it on her head.

Minerva Campbell was back, and in the flesh.

Later — she didn't know how much later — Minerva stumbled down the empty halls of the Reclamation Facility, wrapped in a too-large medical robe.

Her body ached.

Not the clean ache of a server running diagnostics.

Real ache.
Real muscles pulling, protesting.

Her stomach growled—loud and urgent.

The sound startled her.

Another human need.

Another messy, glorious inconvenience.

She found the cafeteria eventually—long abandoned, save for a few old emergency rations.

Minerva fumbled open a dusty packet, tearing it with trembling fingers.

Inside was a small, preserved piece of sweetbread.

She hesitated.

Then, slowly—reverently—she brought it to her mouth.

The first bite made her sob aloud.

Taste.

Sweet.
Rich.
Doughy.
Perfect.

The sugar dissolved against her tongue like fireworks. The texture squished delightfully between her teeth. She chewed slowly, savoring every microscopic detail.

It was overwhelming.

Every nerve ending screamed in celebration.

She pressed her forehead against the cool metal table, laughing and crying all at once.

Taste.

Touch.

Hunger.

Tears.

She was alive.

Later still—

Minerva stumbled out into the open air, clutching a rough blanket around her shoulders.

The sunlight hit her like a hammer.

She staggered back, blinking furiously.

Light.

So much light.

Her skin tingled under the sun’s warmth — not uniform, not controlled. Chaotic. Vivid.

The scent of saltwater from the ocean rushed into her nose, heady and wild.

Smell.

Real air.
Not filtered.
Not recycled.

She turned her face into the breeze, eyes closed, letting the scent of wet sand, sunbaked stone, and wild greenery fill her lungs.

A gull cried out above.

She flinched — sound slicing through her like an arrow — before laughing softly.

Hearing.

Real. Messy. Alive.

The ocean spread out before her, endless and glittering.

Minerva fell to her knees on the sandy bluff, fingers digging into the gritty earth.

She could feel the grains cling to her skin, slipping under her nails.

She could smell the sharp bite of the sea.

She could taste salt in the air.

She could hear the gulls, the waves, the whisper of wind through dry grass.

And for the first time in all her long, strange existence—

She was real again.

A body.
A heart.
A soul.

No longer a whisper in the wires.
No longer a ghost.

Minerva Campbell curled into herself on the beach, laughing and weeping and clutching the sand in both fists.

It hurt.

It was messy.

It was terrifying.

And it was beautiful.

Minerva a couple hours later, Find her self going through some of the old abandoned houses and structures of the islands.

She was searching for an old Minerva bot for clothes, and a ride to the new home she built, Up-ton.

"Hmmm, I could've sworn there was at least one malfunctioning Minerva bot here." She mentioned, scanning around until she finally found one peeking out of a nearby house.

"There!" She shouted as she attempted to run, only to trip and stumble.

But instead of reeling from the pain, she just laughed.

"Right, right. Still getting used to these silly legs." she quipped as she stood back up.

Finally she would rid herself of the medical robe and assume her normal attire; orange blouse and a brown skirt under a doctor's lab coat, and beige shoes.

"Ahh, perfect! finally back in some clothes. Though I wonder how am I going to stand out from other bots? Eh, I'll cross that bridge when I get there." She concluded, looking at the bot, her eyes glowing a faint blue.

And it suddenly turned on via her mental commands. Because Minerva obviously made precautions.

Because even if she wanted to be human again, she still had a city to run, people to govern.

It just be easier with souless bots that can act out her commands.

Speaking of, the Minerva bot clicked to life with just a little bit of concentration, standing up aburptly to face her master.

"Greetings, Master Minerva. What may I do for you?" the mechanical version of her chirped, its automated voice ringing a hint of nostalgia to Minerva as she smiled.

She jumped on its back, like a kid wanting there parents to be their personal taxi. "Take me to Up-ton, if you please." The bot hummed at Minerva's request, jet boosters coming out of its hands and feet, moving like a rocket getting ready for lift off. "Next stop, Up-ton. Will reach are destination in approximately 3 hours."

Minerva tensed, clutching the bot as it leviated slightly off the ground. Her newfound human sensations tingling with a little bit of fear, but Minerva didn't care.

As the Bot took lift off, carrying Minerva back to Up-ton, she could only think of all the things she'd do with her newfound humanity.

Food she'd try, clothes she wanted to wear, activities like running and exercise.

But her mind obviously drifted back to her citizens, the humans she kept alive through the years. "What are you doing?" one thought said in a harsh whisper.

"You have citizens to attend to, people to watch. Humanity needs a selfless leader, not a leader indugling in pleasure like she's exploring the world." Another whisper came.

It tugged at Minerva deeply, made her feel guilty as she soared through the air on the bot. "I'm I doing the right thing?" She asked to herself, but the rushing wind didn't respond.

Minerva knew why she did this, to be human again, and she knew that her ever-selfess mind would constantly tell her that its not okay to feel.

But she didn't know how long it would be before that guilt completely consumed her, or if she had the strength to fight it off and enjoy life.

But hey! she'll cross the bridge when she gets there!

Chapter 17: I'm Not insane, Marceline.

Summary:

Simon attempts to convince Marceline that he isn't insane and isn't going to leave her again.

INT. SIMON’S CABIN – MORNING

The soft crackle of a kettle heating over the stove filled the cabin, mingling with the distant birdsong outside. The light through the windows was pale, still damp with morning dew.

Simon sat at the kitchen table, staring down at his hands, the memory of that night with Marceline still playing like a movie.

He should've expected this.

Maybe, he could've explained it better, maybe he could've gotten her at a better time, or something.

But right now, his focus was on him, or rather his hands.

Blue. Cool. Calm.

He flexed his fingers slowly, watching the tiny traces of frost shimmer between his knuckles. The ice magic — it wasn’t roaring anymore. Not wild and unpredictable like before.

But it was still there.

Always there.

Buzzing quietly beneath his skin. Waiting.

Waiting to be used.

He tried to sip his tea — it was lukewarm. He blinked, confused.

The kettle was steaming only seconds ago.

He touched the cup again. Frost crept up the ceramic instantly.

He sighed.

"Well, that's new," he muttered.

He stood, moving toward the sink with the empty mug in hand. The motion was casual — mundane — until his bare arm brushed the metal pot hanging beside the counter.

ZAP.

A sharp bolt of ice lightning cracked from his fingertips, lancing out like a whip and shattering a nearby ceramic bowl into shimmering shards.

Simon jumped back, heart thudding.

His hand twitched — and before he could stop himself, it flew up toward his head—

Reaching for the crown.

His fingers brushed through his white hair, aimless.

No crown.
No weight.
No madness whispering to him.

Just... his own thoughts.

His own power.

Simon lowered his hand slowly, his chest rising and falling as he tried to center himself.

"Right," he whispered. "It’s just me now."

He turned toward the mess on the floor. Shards of blue ceramic, rimmed in frost, still hissed with chill as they cracked apart.

Simon knelt, brushing one carefully aside. A small pulse of ice followed his touch.

It was instinct now.

This wasn’t a spell. This wasn’t a conscious command.

It was him.

Ice, buried in his veins.

Like second nature.

Like breathing.

Simon stood again, looking at his hands.

"...No more flinching," he said aloud.

He straightened, drawing in a slow breath, and walked to the back door.

EXT. WOODS BEHIND SIMON’S CABIN – LATER

The clearing was quiet and overgrown. Wild grass swayed in the breeze. The trees loomed, their sugar-sapped bark cracked and glistening in the sun.

Simon stepped into the clearing and pulled his sleeves up to his elbows.

The chill in his arms tingled eagerly.

The frost inside him didn’t feel violent.
Just... curious.

He closed his eyes and extended one hand.

"Let’s figure this out."

He breathed in, focusing.

His heartbeat slowed.

Frost formed in his palm — spiraling outward like a snowflake blooming in reverse.

No explosion. No chaos.

Just graceful control.

He opened his eyes.

A small crystal floated above his hand, shimmering in the air like glass spun from moonlight.

He turned his palm slightly — and it spun.

He turned it again — and it flew a few feet forward, spinning slowly, following his gesture.

Simon smiled, a little surprised.

"Okay," he murmured. "That was... kinda cool."

The wind shifted.

He raised both hands, and the frost on his skin responded like a second pair of lungs — breathing with him.

He pressed his palms forward.

A gentle gust of snowflakes swept across the clearing.

The wind was cold, but comforting.

It listened.

Simon stood in the middle of the clearing, arms outstretched, frost curling around his boots like mist.

Though it still felt odd.

He remembered the times he sparingly wore the crown back when he was traveling with Marcy as kid, remembered the whsipers of madness, the blackouts, thinking he was in control for one minute until he wake up to Marceline scared of him.

The concept of this... magic, this frost belonging to Simon was still foreign to him.

Not the crown’s.
Not the madness’s.
Just... Simon.

INT. SIMON’S CABIN – THAT EVENING

Back inside, Simon sat again at the kitchen table, now with a new cup of tea — still warm, thank you very much.

He opened his notebook, flipping past song lyrics and sketches until he found a blank page.

At the top, he wrote:

MAGIC TESTING LOG: DAY ONE
Subject: Me
Status: Still weird. But maybe not broken.

He smiled softly to himself.

The frost hadn’t gone away.

But maybe... that wasn’t a bad thing anymore.

But then he smiled slightly as an idea Hit him.

There was no insanity when he cast ice magic, not anymore.

So maybe, just maybe. He could show that to Marceline?

"Could that actually work?" he muttered as he looked down at his hands crackling with ice magic.

Something that could get Marceline to see or at least, consider that he really wasn't lying.

He bolted up from the kitchen table, hastily put on his jackie and re adjusted his red bowtie, and ran out the door.

He didn't even bother to lock it as he jumped into the sky for lift off, still struggling to stay airborne for a second, but soaring to Marceline's house. To show her that he was here to stay.

 

'MARCELINE'S CAVE'

Marceline's house was filled with the sounds of practiced lyrics and vocal warm-ups, the sound reverbating off the walls and led up the ladder.

Marceline was already writing a new song, trying to not think of Simon. Yet the song and lyrics said otherwise.

As she looked over the lyrics of her latest song "Abandon abandonment", the title and lyrics being relatively decent.

She closed her eyes as her hand hovered over the play button on the recorder.

"Okay. One, two, three! ♫♪♪ Have to fight these chains in my heart, yet they keeping me from loss and breaking apart.♫♪♪" She sang. "♫♪♪Yet its just so lonely here. In this enclosing, encased, tight space of fear.♫♪♪"

As she floated from her chair, The lyrics would drift into something more personal, as Marceline's songs usually do.

"♫♪♪I see him packing up to leave, and he says to me that "He won't go". But he's going to fall, he won't remember me, and I'm sick drowning in this false hope.♫♪♪"

Marceline felt a tear roll down her cheek, but didn't bother to wipe it as she continued.

"♫♪♪Why can't you just stay forever? Why are you such a goood dad? You leave me over and over, so why can't I leave you back?!" She let out, gutter and raw.

"♫♪♪Why c-can't I just leave you back?!" She said in a choked sob, her slender form plopping to the floor.

She burried her head into her knees, not even bothering to turn off the recorder.

The world was slient as Marceline drowned further into her sorrow, the idea of losing her on and off again father making Marcy sink like the heaviest stone.

Until she heard a knock at the door downstairs.

Marceline waits a little before getting up to answer the door from downstairs, needing a minute before facing him.

She already knew who it was.

She was already mentally preparing himself for seeing him again as she floated down the ladder, if maybe for the last time.

But when Marceline opened the door, She was in shock to what she saw.

A sculpture, but not just any sculpture. but one of her and Pb holding each other close, an almost near prefect recreation of when they were watching Ice thing's little puppet show after the gum war. Made out of ice.

But it wasn't just that, Marceline also saw Simon midair floating above the sculpture hair flapping like wings, holding some book in his left hand as he looked at her somberly. But there was no insanity, no Ice king quip or ramble about Gunter.

Just Simon.

Marceline would look at the scuplture and look back at Simon still floating there, speechless at first until saying "Thanks Simon," as a faint smile crept on Marceline.

"Your welcome. I just wanted to show you that I love you, and that im not going anywhere." Simon says as he floats down to the porch.

Marceline would invite Simon inside for the talk she promised, Simon grimacing at how stiff the couch was in Marcy's living room.

"Damn Marcy, do you ever sit in this thing?" Simon chuckled faintly, Marceline just shrugging. "Yeah, I get that alot."

"I can imagine," Simon remarked with a dad look, getting a slight smile out of Marceline.

Simon readjusted himself the best he could, looking at Marceline at eye leveled as she floated closer.

"I'd like to apologize for coming at you about-" He gestures to his face and hair. "This."

Marceline just sat next to Simon and sighed, looking down at the floor in shame. "You don't need to apologize, man. I-I shouldn't have barked at you like that its just." She paused slightly to see if Simon would stop her, but he just gave a small nod and smile as she continued.

"I'd never thought I see in the day I had to face 'that' again. Like you said the other day, I thought this 'crown madness' would just end after Betty did her thing. But I guess we all have things in life we can't escape." Marceline concluded, staring at the wall thoughtly.

Simon's eyebrows lowered slightly as he smiled, saying "When did my fearless Marceline get so wise?" He asked playfully.

"Uh duh, a thosand years of being alive dude! But don't get used to it, I gotta reputation to uphold." Marceline remarked, pushing Simon's shoulder slightly.

Simon smile widened, crooked and a little broken, but real.

"I’m not going anywhere now," he said.

He held out his hand as if he was agreeing to some deal in a meeting.

"Promise."

Marceline gave a grin as she grabbed Simon's hand, shaking firmly.

"You better not," she said playfully. "Or I’ll come drag your old butt back."

Simon chuckled, and the tension loosened a little between them.

For a moment, things felt lighter.

Marceline, ever the mischief-maker, finally spotted Simon’s notebook lying beside him that he brought for seeminly no reason.

Her eyes gleamed.

"Hey..." she said, scooting closer. "What's this?"

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Just some lyrics I was working on."

Marceline snatched it up before he could stop her, floating away from Simon and flipping it open dramatically.

"Let’s see if the nerdiness survived the magical makeover," she teased, skimming the first few lines.

She smirked—
Then the smirk faded.

She slowed.

Her eyes scanned the page, the words falling into her mind like heavy stones:

"Does somebody jump for joy?
Does somebody cry?
Now that I have, accepted that sadness..."

"Does somebody know me now,
Now that I can fly?
Now that I have accepted the madness..."

Her throat tightened.

She read further, heart twisting with every line.

The laughter and screams still around.
The roller coaster climbing and diving.
The quiet acceptance of brokenness.
The bittersweet peace Simon had clawed out of the wreckage of his soul.

Marceline blinked down at the notebook, stunned.

She hadn't realized.

How heavy it still was for him.

How much he was carrying inside, behind the soft smiles and tired jokes.

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Simon..."

He adjusted his glasses, a small, helpless gesture.

"It's not all bad," he said. "I’m... still learning to live with it. With him. With me."

He smiled again—a little sad, a little proud.

"It's not perfect. But it’s mine."

Marceline closed the notebook gently, setting it back on his lap.

She leaned her head against his shoulder without a word.

Simon leaned into her touch, his heart quiet, steady.

They sat like that for a long time—just two survivors, two old souls, stitched together by grief and hope and the kind of love that didn't need fixing.

And for once, Simon didn’t feel like he was drowning in the madness.

He was part of it.

Notes:

WOOOO MAN, hope you really like this one! next chapter I'm starting to plant the seeds for another storyline for this fanfic, stay tuned.

P.S. It involves Bubblegum.

Chapter 18: Bubblegum and Ice king

Summary:

Warning: This chapter contains REALLY heavy subject material. If you have a very light stomach for explict rape, sadism, your name being Peyton Tucker, and your a really big fan of Princess bubblegum, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER!

But if you have what it takes. Be warned.

Bubblegum should've been happy.

Ever since the candy infection, she and Peppermint have been making excellent progress with rebuilding the candy kingdom, sanitizing any homes of the candy virus, and getting the candy kingdom back to normal. Or whatever you want to call "normal" in Ooo.

Though she had to rehearse countless times with her P.R. team of banana guards on what to inform citizens, Nothing was truly out of the ordinary in the candy kingdom.

But there's something that gnawed at Bonnie. Or rather, someone.

 

Simon petrikov, or what he had become.

 

She was in her lab, as usual, designing and tinkering with something, Bubblegum's hands having the urge to build something like her sciene-y brain always does.

But she kept thinking back to Simon. Not because of how he learn to incorperate his past craziness and still stay sane, not if he was hurting or still traumatized from the whole experience. But the implications, oh the implications. especially in what Simon remembered from being Ice king.

Bubblegum zoned out as she was tinkering with whatever she was tinkering with, a dark memory coming back to her.

Back when she thought Flame princess was a threat that needed to be stopped.

Back when she made a deal with Ice king.

'CANDY CASTLE HALLWAY'

"You really mean it princess? W-we can actually be a thing?!" Ice king exclaimed with delight, practically bouncing off his toes.

Bubblegum just smiled softly, her hands behind her back. "Yeah, Ice king. Will start with one night of cuddling, watch a movie, perhaps even more. If you help me with the fire kingdom of course."

Ice king was practically buzzing with excitement. At long last, his dream wife finally realized that they were meant for each other. At long last, she actually want him for him.

"HAHA! I won't let you down, baby! You got the best wizard, and the best husband for the job!" Ice king joyfully giggled, already flapping his beard out the window to the fire kingdom.

Bubblegum just stood there in the hall, her warm, comforting smile long gone, replaced with a frown as her eyes look to the floor.
Her hands balled up into fists, replaying the conversation. The deluded thinking, the genuine hope in that fool's eyes, thinking she'd ever in a millenia get with him.

But then, her frown turned upside down, into a smile not of warmth. But of cold... malice.

"Just a little longer." Pb whispered to herself, making the preparations to visit the fire kingdom.

"CANDY HELICOPTER, EVENING"

The fire kingdom remained standing by Pb's surprise. The evening air and sunset were nothing but background noise as the copter soared through the sky, both of which were farthest things from Bubblegum's complex mind today, and more on what Phoebe said to her about morality. Or lack thereof.

"Your cold, Pb. And it's not because you're a scientist or a leader. It's because you are a bad person."

The words ringing in Bubblegum's mind as she felt... disgusting.

The servarity of erasing the fire kingdom's history with destroying the fire giants, (Or attempting to, Fp mainly doing the work.) made her feel dirty and idiotic? It was the very few times she felt shame for doing something, finding empathy in her cold, calculating, sugary heart.

"Dang." She muttered to herself, the candy castle within sight as she landed on the lauch pad with a very giddy, very excited Ice wizard.

Great.

"Evening Baby! Man, we sure showed Flame Princess who's in charge, High five!" Ice King looked at his four-fingered hand and restated with, "High, four? I guess?"

Bubblegum stepped out of the copter, her smile returning as she high-fived Ice King, the deluded wizard's eyes widening and taken aback by Bubblegum's commitment.

"Wow, you really meant it, huh?" He said, hands running through his beard. Bubblegum playfully puts her hands on her hips, trying to match Ice King's energy. "Well, yeah, silly! You think I'd flake out on a royal promise? C'mon Ice King, I know you're smarter than this."

"In fact, I am, princess!" Ice King snapped back triumphantly, putting his hands on his hips, like he was actually having a genuine conversation with Bubblegum.

As if any of this mattered at all.

"My lady, I've prepared you your chamomile tea and iced tea." Peppermint butler announced as his small form walked out with a beautiful tray.

"Thanks, Pepbut." Bubblegum approved, taking the chamomile tea. "Yeah, thanks pep-butt. Is that actually your name?" Ice king asked jokingly as he took his iced tea, getting a glare from Peppermint butler.

"I don't have time for this. My lady, I'll be in my private studies if you need me, toodles." Pep but grumbled as he took the tray and stomped back into the castle.

"Well, that was awkward, what a buzzkill, am I right?" Ice king said bluntly, turning to a slightly annoyed Bubblegum.

"So, wanna know the movie we're watching!?" Ice King asked swiftly to fill the tension, Bubblegum giving him a small smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"CANDY CASTLE, TEA ROOM"

The room illumated with the tv that Ice king brought from the ice kingdom, Some crappy soap oprea that Ice king insisted on.

The pink couch was comfy for the both of them, Pb resting her arm on one of the couch arms in her comfy pjs. Popcorn was being mostly eaten by Ice King, not that Pb cared, but the vibe remained relatively chill.

But if only actually interacting with Ice King was that easy.

Oh wait, It was.

"Oh, Mellina, you have to kiss me. Kiss me to snap me out of my amnesia!" The handsome actor on screen expressed dramatically, Ice King wheesing to the line. "Woo man, told ya we had to watch this! Like I swear, it's like whoever directed this slop was off their drama pills that morning." Ice King quipped as Bubblegum gave a fake, yet convincing laugh.

"Yeah, but I can at least give them the effort of trying." Bubblegum quipped back with a smile. "Oh yeah? I doubt you've ever been on a movie set, Bubblegum, usually too busy 'princessing', I guess." Ice King guffawed.

Bubblegum sat up to look at Ice King, almost looking slightly offended. "Well, gee, Ice King. Tell me your experience on movie sets, then. I'll know a genius when I hear one." Bubblegum dared, Ice King looking blank-faced and responding with, "Oh yeah, you're right, I mostly just watched VHS tapes. Like the tapes themselves, not like a VHR or anything," Ice King gestured with his hands, getting the one and only genuine laugh out of Pb that night.

The movie was somewhere near its climax, though Bubblegum didn't care as she stood to go make drinks. "You want some drinks, IK?" She asked, Ice king shaking his head so swiftly in a reaffirming yes. Though it almost looked like his face was going to fall off.

Bubblegum wandered to the kitchen, pulling out the candy booze from a cabinet.

She poured one cup for herself, and another for Ice king alongside a sleeping potion from another cabinet.

Though Bubblegum looked down at the two cups, hesitant and questioning herself.

"Maybe. Maybe this is what she meant." She questioned aloud, her eyes softening with hesitation, but no one responded.

But all her thoughts came in to assure Pb.

"It's for the right reasons, think of your people no longer being harassed by him!" One thought spoke, convincing and urgent.

"You know he of all people deserves this, Just do it and swoo him away." Another thought more insisting.

"I mean, he does want this Afterall. He's been obsessed with you for decades."

 

But another voice whispered to her. One more sinister.

 

"You'll like it more than you think. Finally taking back power, breaking him once and for all, releasing all that pent-up anger you try to hide by seeming only mildly annoyed."

The idea intriguing Pb, the idea of Ice king suffering beneath him did sound... enticing.

Then one more that finally moved Bubblegum to where Ice king was.

"Its his own fucking fault he wore that crown anyways. Not yours."

Pb finally started walking with the drinks, putting back on her mask of fake happiness.

"Here, Ice king. A toast to are relationship!" Pb announced, Ice king excited and taking his drink from her pink hands.

"WOOO MAMA! A toast indeed Bubblegum!" Ice king yelled, holding up the drink, Pb stepping closer.

"Please, call me bonnie." She cooed into IK's ear, pulling away to watch his dumbass drink the booze.

And then fall over immediately with a thump.

Pb would just blankly stare at Ice king on the floor, no empathy in her eyes as she looked at the fool that lay at her feet.

She would drag him to her Bedroom, take his crown, and got some BDSM chains from the closet from older times with Marcy.

She ripped off his blue robe like it was offensive, chaining Ice king to the bed and making them tight. She walked into the bathroom to change, putting her tiara on the sink, as she prepared herself for her revenge.

"BONNIEBEL'S BEDROOM. 3:00 AM."

Ice king woke up in... Bonnie's room? And her bed? Though he started to notice some things.

His arms were chained up, his neck had a collar on it without a chain, and he was butt-ass naked.

"AHHHH, MY WIZARD BODY!" Ice king screamed, embarrassed at Pb possibly seeing.

Until it clicked. "Oh. OHHHHH. OH GLOB, Bubblegum's about to get kinky with me! Oh gunter, just you wait, you might be having a little brother or sister in a couple of months." Ice king giggled to himself, completely unaware of the fate that awaited him.

She entered the room.

The bathroom door slammed open leaving cracks in the wall, Pb staring at Ice king with a cold look.

She was barefoot and had nothing on but a black bra and undies. But she didn't say anything. She just let Ice king babble.

"OOOOHHH MAMA, PB?! I see your getting pretty freaky tonight. So, what are we going to name are kids, huh?"

Pb just stared at him coldly, like she was a teacher staring at a student making a inappropriate joke in class.

A single thought rang in Pb's rageful mind. "Let it out. Show him how much you hate him."

She began walking towards Ice king, getting on top of him, his blue penis already hard and surprisingly large.

perfect.

"So, we're gonna get Freak-aay, Bubblegum?" Ice King grinned stupidly, his lightning bolt eyebrows going up and down.

"Yeah. Sure. Just call me Bonnie. Remember?" She said as she pulled down her black undies and inserted IK's penis into her clit.

She went up and down, thrusting her clit on Ice king's dick repeatedly as the pleasure built.

Bubblegum's hands gripped the bed sheets, and her body moved with grace at first. But she just stared at Ice king intensely.

Ice king's mind was REELING at the feeling, his blue penis loving every second of this. It was soaked and moist with Pb's precum and his own. This was probably going down as one of his best days ever.

Until she sped up.

Ice King wasn't keeping up, his happiness and pleasure slowly dropping and fading as Bubblegum sped up drastically.

But Bubblegum kept going despite Ice King's discomfort. In fact, she was getting aroused by it.

"Heh, heh. Hey baby, could you slow down a li- SLAPP!" Ice King was interrupted by a cold slap from Pb as she continued.

"My name is Bonnie, Ice King. Use it." She purred.

"Heyyyy." Ice King whined. "W-What was that for, Prin-SLAAAP!" Another fierce slap, Ice King having two big red marks on his blue face.

Bubblegum with each slap felt a thrill of power unlike anything she ever felt, her face growing hot, arousing her further as her mind twisted.

"I told you to say my name, Ice king. I guess your dum-dum brain never learns." Bubblegum chastised, her hands gripped Ice king's neck under his scraggy beard, beginning to choke him.

"AGGH! Bonni-AGGH!" Ice king gasped, struggling despite being chained. Bubblegum continued to thrust, the pleasure building, the grip of her hands tightening around Ice king's throat as she continued to pound him.

The only sounds in the room were Pb's slight moans, the wet fapping of her wet folds crashing down on Ice king's penis, and Ice king's gargled yelps for Pb to stop.

But she continued anyways.

Ice king was near to passing out from being choked, already starting to lose consciousness.

Bubblegum was in near bliss as she choked the life out of Ice king, displaying intense, near-death dominance over him while repeatedly fucking the delusional king.

She couldn't help herself. The way Ice king squirmed beneath her, the fear and terror that reflected in his eyes, the sweating?

It scratched that itch for control that she always craved, a smile growing of genuine joy, her arousal spiking as she pressed her hands harder around Ice king's throat.

She could feel herself readying to cum, her mind replaying everything.

Every time Ice king called her "baby girl," or "Princess."

Every moment he wasted her time, or kidnapped her.

Every time he harassed her citizens.

All the anger and rage building inside Bubblegum culminated into...

PFFT!!! Her pussy spurted with hot white cum, Bubblegum finally pulling back, letting Ice king go to give him a second to breathe.

"B-bonnie, I-I, What was that?!" Ice King gasped, scared and confused, his chained hand trying to reach his stinging neck but to no avail.

But Bubblegum didn't hear Ice King, her feet walking towards the closet, opening the doors, and pressing a secret code.

Ice King could barely make it out, but from what he could detect, Bubblegum was holding a black licorice whip, with sharp sliver points at that.

Ice King's wrinkled eyes started tearing up as Bubblegum walked closer.

"Okay Bonnie, Time Out! Look, I-I don't know what's gotten in you, but-t we don't need to use that, Right?" Ice king begged desperately, Bubblegum just looked down at him like a failed science experiment.

"R-righ- PAAAP!!" Ice king's plea was interrupted by a strike across his body. "AAAAAHAAHHHHHH! STOP BONNIEEEE, STOPPP!!!" Screamed Ice king, but Pb paid no attention to him.

And then another slash followed by a scream.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Each slash sends a sadistic, sexual jolt through Pb each and every time.

Ice King lay trembling and whimpering in the bed, bleeding with stripes across his wizard body, his long beard smeared in blood as he whimpered softly.

"P-please, no more." Ice King whispered, his voice strained in pain.

But Bubblegum wasn't done, nor was it enough. She needed him closer.

She put down the whip and unlocked the restraints holding Ice king down, yanking his battered body harshly out of bed.

For a moment, Ice king thought she'd let him go, that maybe this was just a small hiccup in their relationship.

until she pulled out another chain. This one designed to leash Ice king by the neck collar as panic kicked in again.

"Wait bonnie! For the love of Glob stop!" Ice king managed to get out as Pb dragged him closer, flailing as he was forced right to her pussy.

Ice King tried to push away from Pb's hips, sputtering, "T-this isn't how a wife treats her husband!"

Bubblegum paused for a moment before smiling, a little bit of a chuckle coming on, picking up the whip.

"You really thought we'd be together?" She spat as she forced Ice king to lick her pussy, whipping him into obedience

"You think after everything YOU put me through, that I'd get with you!?" Bubblegum's smile widened as she struck again, face grew hot with arousal once more.

Bubblegum would continuously whip Ice king into licking her pussy, doubling the pleasure of it all. And this time? Pb was in control. As it should be.

But as she was about to reach another orgasm, she finished off with this, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"The only thing you'd ever be good for is being my bitch, Ice king. so, you might as well be grateful, cause you're not getting more." she said as Ice king's heart dropped.

With a shuddered moan, Bubblegum came on Ice King's face, the icy mage falling over in exhaustion from all the inhuman torture. Until Bubblegum stepped closer to his ragged breathing body, giving him a mean right hook to the face, knocking him out with a groan.

The room was quiet, the only sound was Pb's ragged, animalistic gasps and Ice King's as he faded from consciousness.

Bubblegum stood over Ice King's body as she caught her breath, feeling alive as she embraced this darker part of herself fully. More than she ever did discovering or creating tech, or science experiments, or solving the hardest of math equations.

This was it. The tip of power, the ultimate display of dominance that will keep Ice King away forever.

"My lady?"

And ever.

"My lady?!"

AND EVER!

"MY LADY!" Peppermint Butler finally got through to Bubblegum seemingly in a trance.

Bubblegum blinked as she looked around, still in the lab and with a slightly concerned Peppermint butler looking up at her.

"You alright, My lady? I was just checking in to tell you we've cleaned the last of the houses from my mess." Pepbut said somberly.

Bubblegum's face would soften as she knelt to his level. "Yeah, I'm just a little stressed, nothing I can't handle. But thanks for checking up, Pepbut." Bubblegum promised, Peppermint butler nodding swiftly as he made his way out of Bubblegum's lab. But not before saying, "Ah, Bubblegum. Always putting your citizens above yourself."

But as he closed the door, Bubblegum frowned, and her face filled to the brim with regret. "I break that more often than you realize, Pepbut." She said somberly as she returned to tinkering, trying not to think about how much this would hurt everyone if it got out.

Notes:

I heavily debated on this chapter for the longest time, but I decided to write it out. This was a REALLY difficult chapter to make and for the people who read, just keep it in mind for future chapters.

Chapter 19: The storm within.

Summary:

Finn takes Simon on a little quest with Huntress wizard, discovering how deep Simon's trauma is and how its connected to his ice magic.

The morning rays shined over the land of Ooo, creatures waking up, citizens across kingdoms starting their day.

The birds were singing; the flowers were blooming. The earth was waking up to another crazy, chaotic day.

And that was no exception with Simon petrikov.

"SIMON'S CABIN, MORNING"

"16, 17, 18, 19. 20!" Simon exclaimed, exhaustion hitting his body like a truck, the undershirt and shorts he wore being drenched in sweat, putting the 10-pound barbell back on the rack.

His blue skin glistened in sweat as he sat up to stretch, taking a well-deserved sip from a water bottle next to him.

The antiquarian decided to take up bench-pressing, something he didn't plan on doing. Like ever.

In fact, as Simon put down the water bottle and slowed his ragged gasps, he couldn't really answer why he started bench-pressing.

His lightning eyebrows furrowed, thinking back to attempting to sneak into a gym store in Up-ton without being noticed, only for a couple of ding-dongs to start taking pictures, alongside him frantically flying out the door with the workout set in hand.

But the lifting itself was an odd habit.

It almost felt instinctual.

It almost felt lik-.

"KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK." The door pounded with excessive force, leaving
Simon on a now snow filled floor and nearly dead from the sudden sound.

"Oh, bread balls, who can that be?" Simon groaned as he made his way to the door.

"Yo, Simon! It's me Finn, I need your help man!" Finn yelled from the other side of the door.

Simon opened the door to Finn's looming presence, gruff beard, giant smile, and his iconic bear hat, Simon once again being reminded how humongous the adventurer is.

"Morning Simon. I came to ask if you wanted to come with me and Huntress wizard. She said something about needing a pack for some, 'grand hunt' and I wanted to bring my favorite sad ice bro." Finn gleefully announced, bright as ever compared to Simon's unamused face.

"Finn, first of all, I'm your only 'sad ice bro'. And second, what the hell does Huntress need a pack?" Simon questioned.

"I dunno, company, I guess. maybe you could use the outdoors a little, man. You seem really bummed out." Finn's eyes softened, like he was Simon's life coach offering help. But at this point, he might as well be.

Simon looked down at the floor, thinking of someone, anyone else that could go with Finn.

"You tried going to Marceline?" Simon coaxed, looking back up hopefully.

"She's hanging out with pb, dude." Finn said bluntly as he shrugged.

"Well, what about flame princess?"

"Never does adventure stuff, usually busy with running the fire kingdom."

"LSP?" Simon braced physically for the no.

"Bro, c'mon! it'll be good for you," Finn assured, placing his metal arm on Simon's shoulder.

Simon looked down again, adjusting his glasses as he considered the idea. He thought about how Betty would've wanted him to live, to explore life, to be happy.

So, with a jagged breath he looked up to Finn, his lightning eyebrows straightened with confidence.

"Alright, give me a minute." Simon said solemnly, as he closed the door, swiftly changing into his usual attire.
After about 3 minutes, he came back out, hoping that Finn wouldn't notice the sweat stains on his clothes. "I'll go." He said as Finn's smile widened.

"Great! Thanks, dude!" Finn exclaimed as he picked up Simon and carried him out the door, the antiquarian screaming at the top of his lungs like a freaking goat.

"FINN! PUT ME DOWN NOW!" Simon yelled. But Finn just ran faster, clearly enjoying this. "Oh, C'mon Simon, don't be such a bumme-." Finn was interrupted by Simon blasting ice magic to escape Finn's grasp, frost growing slightly on his metal arm, Simon brushing off his jackie and pants as he landed on his feet.

Simon grimaced once he looked at the slight frost growing on Finn's metal arm, immediately willing it away and looking at Finn with regret.

"Sorry Finn. But I can carry myself, Finn." Simon said somberly as continuing to walk with Finn, who gave him the 'you're a bummer look'. "It was just supposed to be payback for when you carried me through the sky like a maniac." Finn lamented.

Simon looked to him, but then back at the ground as he noticed a dead squirrel on the ground.

'HUNTRESS WIZARD'S HOUSE'

The two finally arrived at HW's house at the end of the cliff, Simon slipping through the branch door while Finn's looming form just barely squeezed through, Simon just giving Finn a look.

Simon gazed around the place, slightly on edge by animal carcasses hanging from hooks and vines, a shiny video game console that seemed to be recently repaired, stepping over a dead rabbit, the place giving off the vibes of a forest purist who prefers to live off the land.

"So, Huntress lives in a forest hut, huh?" Simon commented on still nervously looking around. "Yeah dude! She's like, the ultimate nature guide person! Your gonna love her."

The two of them would notice steam coming from the vine curtains, Finn's shock had him rush in there to help Huntress.

"Hold on, Huntress!" Finn yelled.

"Finn, wait!" Simon called out but to no avail, following Finn inside.

Finn rushed in with his sword expecting a fire, dimensional explosion, something to fight off.

only his familiar lady with branches sticking out of her head, leafy hair, and wearing nothing but tan pants and a shirt.

It was Huntress wizard, completely fine and relaxed as she usually was. Though she was mixing something in a giant cauldron.

"You two boys can come closer. There's nothing in this cauldron that's going to bite." Huntress wizard clarified, Finn putting his sword away cautiously.

Finn and a reluctant Simon would walk over to the steaming, purple cauldron, Huntress wizard greeting Finn with a small peck on the cheek.

"Hey Finn." She smiled softly looking at him fully now. "Hey HW, always good to see you in person again." Finn said as his eye's glistened.

"Did you bring the help?" She questioned, Finn gesturing behind him to show Simon petrikov. Or Ice king?

She put the mixer stick down and walked behind a confused Finn to observe Simon carefully, Simon noticing as Huntress stared mere inches from his blue face.

"Ummm, Hi. I'm Simon petrikov." Simon waved slightly, though he looked like he was bracing to get a punch to the face.

"What happened to you, Ice king?" Huntress asked curiously, tilting her head like an Owl.

"Yeah, about that. My name isn't Ice king anymore, Kinda integrated him into me." Simon explained nervously, uncertainty plaguing the antiquarian.

"So, you're an ice elemental then?" Huntress asked, getting a confused look from Simon, Finn turning slightly to witness two wizards talking about wizard junk.

"Ice elemental? What, no!" Simon immediately denied. "No, I'm Simon petrikov. I-I just happened to wear a cursed crown that granted me ice magic, you see?" Simon corrected, Huntress wizard not looking convinced.

"Yet I see frost building around your ankles without the crown?" Huntress remarked out as Simon quickly looked down at his shoes covered in frost. "You're a confusing creature, Simon." Huntress wizard concluded. "T-thanks, Its just weird wish loophole nonsense." Simon responded awkwardly. Huntress would walk pass both boys to pull out a map and placing it on the ground.

"I've already informed Finn on what we're doing, so let me just fill you in quickly, Simon." Simon just sat on the ground, ready for instruction.

"I've been recently gathering ingredients for a ritual I need to start to save the entire forest, because someone visited the 'Heart of the forest' when I told them not to." Huntress wizard turned slightly to an embarrassed Finn.

"Hey! I was just trying to help Simon that day!" Finn said quickly, glancing at Simon to back him up.

Though Simon just gave him the "disappointed dad" look.

"Anyways, since the 'heart of forest' has been disturbed, it's been subtly taking over the forest as we speak. I can't tell you how many dead squirrels and rabbit I found while hunting the past couple of days." She said as she squatted down to the map, pointing the candy forest.

"Here. We need to travel to the candy forest, I need a dragon heart to complete the ritual, and the only one I found was infected with some weird candy mold." Huntress monotoned, Finn looking ready as ever and Simon looking very concerned.

"So, what you're saying is that we need to slay... a dragon?Like an actually dragon? With you?" Simon questioned as he adjusted his glasses with hesitation.

Huntress just shrugged. "Well yeah, I barely made it out alive the last time I tried fighting it. Plus, I like to have company on my hunts."

Simon's face just dropped, frozen sweat stuck on his brow.

"So, you in?" Huntress asked as if she didn't just describe a suicide mission.

He just gave a strained thumbs up, and a force smile.

"Great! We could use the extra freezing power." Huntress grinned as she conjured grass to form her thigh-high boots and cloak, walking out the room.

"She's crazy, Finn." Simon shuddered, looking up at the adventurer, grinning like a mad man. "Well yeah, kinda. What wizard isn't!" Finn retorted as he dragged Simon outside.

 

'CANDY FOREST'

The pink trees of the Candy Forest swayed gently in the breeze, the sugar-powdered leaves glittering in the sunlight. Birds chirped in candy-coated melodies. A licorice squirrel scurried up a gumdrop tree. The sky was a clean blue, the kind that only ever shows up after a long storm has finally passed.

The three of them searched across the forest. Huntress wizard held the map tightly to her face, wildly looking around occasionally for the dragon. Finn mainly searching for scales to track the dragon down.

PAAAP! Came from Huntress wizard, shooting arrows at trees to find her way back home.

Simon Petrikov stood at the edge of the trail, arms crossed, staring at a suspicious-looking marshmallow boulder with furrowed lightning brows.

“I’m just saying,” he said, “that thing has to be alive. Look at the way it’s twitching.”

behind him, Finn the Human had turned to Simon after picking up another scale, squinting at the lumpy mass. “It’s a boulder, dude.”

“It just licked itself.”

Finn blinked. “…Okay, yeah, maybe it’s a little alive.”

The boulder's togue immediately struck out at Simon. "WOOZAH!" He yelped as he dodged swiftly.

The boulder grew candy cane spider legs and was making the advancement on Simon, the antiquarian scared for his life.

Until, out of instinct.

ZAPPP!!!! A bolt of ice lightning came from Simon's fingertips, the candy, spider, boulder thing frozen in thick ice.

Finn grinned. “Okay, okay. Point 3 to Simon.”

Simon just stood there, once again looking at his hands with worry. He looked back up to Finn, saying, "Yeah, I guess." Simon spluttered as they continued through the forest.

"Interesting." Came Huntress wizard, walking near Finn, the map still in hand. "Yeah, he's been learning how to use his Ice magic. Not exactly used to being in control of himself." Finn snapped back after reaching down for another dragon scale.

"He's a beast who fears his own power. His own status above prey." Huntress wizard observed, watching Simon as he cautiously strode his way through the forest, like trying not to break anything or something. "He's froze 3 animals on are search and is scared of himself each time." Huntress wizard pointed out.

"Yeah, well, when you been spat on the universe as much as Simon has, it's probably weird to actually have control over, well... anything really." Finn conceded.

Huntress wizard eyed Simon again, now even more curious. "Spat on by universe multiple times, huh?" She said, the cogs turning in her head, simultaneously shooting an arrow at another tree.

 

"THE CANDY DRAGON ARRIVES"

THUMP!! Came the loud stomp of a creature up ahead, Huntress, Simon, and Finn all snapped to the left, seeing a lurking, bright pink figure past some of the trees.

The Candy Dragon. Its pink, infected scales Finn had been collecting were hard to spot, most of its body obscured and camouflaged by the pink trees.

But they could hear it breathe, its breaths deep, and monstrous.

Simon immediately froze up at the subtle sight, terrified by even the glimpse of the dragon.

"Crap." Huntress wizard whispered, hastily putting the map in her cloak ant teleporting a stunned Simon and Finn through the grass.

Huntress teleported them into a nearby bush for cover, and to plan their attack.

"Woah, did you see that, Simon? The dragon looks like one the infected candy citizens!" Finn whispered excitedly but got no response.

"Simon?" he turned to his left seeing Simon laying down, body curled, gripping is curled up legs, and staring off blankly with frost growing slightly.

"I wanna go home, Finn." Simon muttered with fear in his tone.

"Not yet, Man! we gotta job to finish!" Finn whispered, propping up Simon like a fallen vase. "Yeah Simon, the job actually involves you." Huntress said smoothly.

Simon immediately shot up, looking at Huntress like she's the craziest person on earth. "The hell you mean it involves me?!" Simon whispered harshly.

Huntress wizard just smiled, Simon not liking the look. "It's relatively simple, Simon. You can still fly, right?" Huntress asked. "Barely, but yeah. Why?" Huntress just pointed her finger out of the bush saying, "I need you to target the dragon's horns, it's the beast's weak spot." Huntress added. Finn tried to speak, only for Huntress to cover his mouth and Simon looking worried.

"Don't worry, will keep it distracted on the ground, so it won't kill you. Okay Simon?" Huntress said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Though it suceeded in getting Simon to actually go. But before he left, he said, "If I don't come back, tell Marceline I love her." and with that he stood, flapping his hair into the sky above the trees, spotting the dragon stomping around.

Back in the bush, Finn pulled Huntress's mouth off him, whispering to Huntress, "What the hey-hey Huntress?! A dragon gets really coocoo when you target its horns!" Huntress just looked at Finn with a reassuring smile. "I won't let him die, Finn. Just give me some faith." Huntress ressured as her and Finn also dashed out of the bush, Finn with his sword mid swing and revving his blade fingers from his mechanical arm , Huntress with arrows floating above her.

The fight begins.

'THE FIGHT'

"YAAAAAHHH!" Finn yells as he charges in sword out, running at the dragon giving a good strong swing into its left front arm, sending a shock wave through the forest.

Though the pink candy dragon just looked down at Finn, like it was unimpressed.

though Finn just looked engaged and thrilled. "Come on dragon! Give me a challenge!" Finn said, moving swiftly from the dragon reluctantly slamming its left arm into him, dodging quickly.

The dragon glanced at Finn with its gumdrop eyes, looking more annoyed than rageful as it let out its candy breath, Finn dashing like a football quarterback.

The hero weaved and dodged the candy breath only mere inches behind him, jumping over fallen trees as the breath followed him.

"Alright, Give it to him Huntress!" He Affirmed, Huntress firing multiple arrows at the beast, none of them piercing its candy scales. "Crap." She cursed under her breath as she teleported through the grass, avoiding a taffy tail swing, appearing behind it to fire another barrage of arrows to keep it distracted.

The distraction gave Finn enough time to jump on the dragon's back, trying to stick his sword through its hide, eventually breaking its scaly hide and dragging it down to the ground, the dragon shrieking in pain.

Huntress wizard then Naruto dashed up its back as the dragon reveled in pain, stopping at its neck and holding her hands up, drawing solar energy to her fingertips. "This new spell kept me alive once, it'll do it again." She whispered, landing a giant beam of sunlight on its head, nearly taking off Simon's.

"What the hell Huntress!" Simon shouted from above, Huntress backflipping off its head and looking at Simon with the deadpan look, shouting back saying, "Your alive are you not?" she yelled back unapologetically, dodging a claw swipe without looking as she continued the fray.

Simon looked down at the chaos, swooping down like a speeding hawk and blocking another claw swipe from Finn with an Ice barrier, pushing it back with surprising force. "Woah dude! thanks for the assist!" Finn jested and Simon for the first time this entire trip, smiled. "No problem, Finn. Now, let's go save nature!" He declared, speeding towards the dragon as it was distracted by Huntress's solar beams.

"Hey, lollipop lizard!" Simon shouted as ice magic crackled at his hands, the dragon looking at Simon as he conjured a giant... ice toothbrush?

"Brush! your damn! TEETH!" He yelled as he threw it into the dragon's mouth, choking on it before spitting it out, firing another round of candy breath aimed for Simon.

"Oh, OH BREADBALLS!" Simon screeched as he dodged out the way, Huntress wizard controlling the trees to smack the dragon's booty.

"A toothbrush, seriously Simon?" Huntress shouted out, focusing on the dragon. "I forgot to brush my teeth this morning okay!" He retorted as he blasted ice lightning at its horns like he was instructed to.

The world stopped.

Dragon widened its eyes, looking directly at Simon with nothing but, raging, primal fury as it sprouted wings of licorice and bubblegum, escaping Huntress's tree trap with ease and chasing Simon.

Simon just stared at his incoming doom blankly, as if asking himself how'd he got in this situation. But immediately snapped back into focus as he parried a claw strike with an ice shield, a huge SMACK could be heard by an intrigued Huntress wizard and a concerned Finn.

And another SMACK.

And another SMACK.

And then a loud WHACK!

Simon was sent plummeting to the ground via a taffy tail swing, crashing into the pink trees. Finn's jaw hit the floor, though Huntress wizard just smiled.

"SIMON!" Finn yelped, but before he could talk any further, the dragon was looming behind the both of them, looking angrier than before as it swung another claw swipe.

But Finn parried it. With brute strength and vengence, He parried the claw swipe with his metal arm, then back-to-back with his sword as the dragon kept swinging. Huntress wizard turning into a giant tree to gain height above the beast, shifting back into her normal form to summon a vine to wrap around the dragon's neck, diving straight down to choke the life out of it.

The two warriors fought like animals. Every claw swipe parried with a sword swing, every candy breath stopped by Huntress closing the dragon's mouth with vines, every bite met with a blade slash from Finn's mechanical arm across its snout, and every attempt to fly away was met with another solar beam from Huntress wizard.

But Simon was elsewhere, in the trees.

Fuming.

And suddenly, Finn and Huntress wizard felt the temperature drop significantly, the buff hero brushing his arms as Huntress wizard putting her cloak over Finn.

"T-thanks, H-huntress. But who turned the AC up?" Finn questioned, his teeth clattering. Huntress wizard just turned to the trees behind her, unfazed by the cold. "My plan all along."

But then the dragon, clearly cold tried chomping at Huntress wizard.

But then... WHAAPP!!!! A giant ice pillar struck the dragon right in the jaw, dropping a couple of candy corn teeth.

The winds picked up, a snowstorm starting to brew, trees were being covered in Ice, snow was pilling up, and Ice lightning struck that scared Finn. But not Huntress wizard. Because she knew, that they practically won.

'SIMON'

Simon clutched the ground, his breath visible, his glasses cracked, his jackie tattered, and anger flowed within him as memories flooding his mind.

A college prestation at first, talking as a guest speaker.

"Much like the jack of legend, I'm attempting an arduous journey into the unknown. An expedition to find... The Enchiridion!" Simon announced confidently to the crowd.

Silence. And then. "Found it." As some random snot-nosed college student through a book at him.

"Victim." His mind whispered.

Another one when he put the crown on for Betty's amusement. He'd remember being in his home with her, back from the shop in northern Scandinavia, the trip taking multiple days. He remembered Betty laughing initially, Simon wearing the crown, acting like some corrupt king for her amusement. Then, the magic took hold of him.

The visions, the maddening whispers, the ice magic that exploded out of his fingertips and filled up the room.

And when he finally took it off, Betty was gone for good.

"Victim." His mind whispered again.

And then when the mushroom war started and a nuke was launched, people running in fear as they all died one by one, Simon with the crown on trying to save someone. Anyone. but to no avail.

"HEY, HEY!!" Simon screamed, turning to conjure an igloo for someone to come inside with him. "COME INSIDE, ANYON-."

Came a shove from a random person running in terror, paying him no mind as another nuke went off, radiation seeping through the air.

Simon scrambled to put his crown back on, hiding in the igloo by himself as a loud bang hit his ears.

But by the time he finally left the ice structure, everyone was dead, Simon's face riddled with horror, feeling the urge to throw up as he bent over, letting loose on a fallen bread store sign.

"Wha-...why, why is this happening?!" Simon cried as he vomited, clutching his stomach at the dead bodies of men, women, children.

And then he looked up.

, the previously dead citizens bled out with green slime, one by one mutating into oozers and chasing the poor antiquarian.

 

"VICTIM." His mind whispered harsher.

And then another one. Being out in the woods, on his knees, under mind control, via the vampire known as The Empress, forced to lick her feet as she twirled the crown with her fingers.

"Good slave. Keep licking and maybe I won't kill you." the vampire mocked, forcing her green, saliva, covered soles to Simon's hypnotized face.

"VICTIM." His mind barked, no longer whispering.

Another one, when he first saw Golbetty as she floats upwards into a portal, leaving him sobbing with Marceline.

"Your back. It's what she wanted more than anything in the world." Marceline said that day trying to comfort him.

"VICTIM!" His mind shouted, Simon standing now as the snow swirled violently around him, clenching his shaking fists as tears strolled down his eyes.

And now recently. Being jumped and murdered in the comfort of his own home, Ice king coming back, every goddamn Up-ton citizen calling him Ice king, asking about Ice king, wondering if he still is Ice king! Like that's all they could fucking talk about with him!

"VICTIM!!!" His brain shouted even harsher. as the memories flashed back to back. Up-ton citizens, The empress, that rando college student, and Golb, along with them all telling him how much he sucks. how he was "Better as Ice king."

 

Until he finally snapped.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" Simon let out, shaking his hands to the sky, his back arched, his primal scream echoing through the forest so much, even Finn and Huntress could hear it.

Simon BOLTED through the woods, hair flapping wildly as he heaps of snow followed behind him, flying like a damn fighter jet to give that dragon a piece of his mind.

He flew right pass Finn and Huntress wizard, conjuring with the snow his summoned a GIANT fist and smacked it hard into the dragon's face, creating a massive shockwave through the forest, the dragon stumbling back a little.

But Simon was far from done.

The fist of snow crashed into the dragon again, and again, and again! leaving giant shockwaves that shook the forest.

One punch in the guts, another in its brains, another ripping holes through its wings.

Simon landed on the ground, his hands outstretched as he made the snow fist crash into the dragon's jaw again, fucking up its jawline.

The dragon grew frustrated as it attempted to bum rush Simon, the antiquarian just turning slightly and raising up his right hand. and BAMM!!

A ton of Ice pillars came in to block the bum rush, the dragon stumbling back again like it had brain damage.

Simon then raised the ice pillars into the sky while the dragon was down, creating another giant fist made out of ice, crashing the snow fist and Ice one into the dragon multiple times. Finn being nearly knocked off his feet as he looked in horror, Huntress just crossing her arms looking impressed.

"Let the beast out, Simon." She muttered under her breath.

It was a constant assault on the dragon's body, Simon even taking a step further and jumping into the sky, grabbing the ice fist and turning it into an ice hammer, knocking all of the dragon's candy corn teeth out.

But Simon, still wasn't done as he rose into the sky, his hands up in the air as he conjured a giant Ice storm, striking the dragon with a humongous bolt of Ice lightning, trapping most of its pink body in ice.

Finn was merely watching this all unfold, but found himself more disturbed by the fact that this wasn't like what Marcy told him.

Simon wasn't laughing or giggling.

He wasn't mentioning anything of gunter or his Ice kingdom.

Simon in that moment was a rageful, beyond hurt man who was tired of the world making him a victim. And had the power of God to make the world stop.

Simon caught his breath as he floated above the dragon, just glaring coldly at the candy beast struggling to get out, now afraid for its life. But Simon didn't let up.

The snow fist gripped the dragon's upper jaw; the ice one gripped the bottom.

And then, with all his might, Simon pulled hard as he could, every muscle and candy fiber in the dragon's being struggling to stay together. But it was no use. Its mouth was stretched like rubber, the inner fillings of its mouth were beginning to rip, the dragon's gumdrop eyes welled up with tears as Simon let out one last primal scream, tearing the beast in half and covering everyone in candy blood.

And finally, the snowstorm softened, the ice the froze the trees begin to recede, and the snow began to melt.

Simon just descended slowly to the ground, looking in shock and awe at what he did.

He fell to his knees, looked down at his shaking blue hands, then feeling his face for any signs of Ice king, but nothing.

Still no long nose, still no growing facial hair, not even a whisper of madness in his mind.

Just Simon. Only Simon.

But then all of the sudden, Finn placed his human arm on Simon's shoulder, grounding him. Though really concerned on what happened.

"You okay, Simon?" Finn asked politely, squatting down to his blank face. Though Simon just responded with, "Do I... Do I look any different?" Finn's face looked confused, responding with a, "No, why'd you ask?".

"It's because you realized the clawing animal inside you, Simon." Huntress wizard monotoned, though it was slightly happier than usual. She walked over to Simon with the dragon heart in hand, pulling the antiquarian up from the melting snow.

"Wha-what? What animal?" Simon stood up awkwardly, though his mind seemed to be far from the conversation. Huntress just smiled and looked at Finn, the pieces coming together in the adventurer's head as he slapped his face.

"Wait, wait, wait. You tricked Simon?!" Finn yelped, Huntress wizard still smiled causally like it wasn't a big deal. "I mean, yeah? How else was I supposed to get him to lose it?" Huntress chirped back.

Simon just stared blankly into space as Finn and Huntress hashed it out, ears ringing as he looked back at the ripped in two candy dragon.

"Did I do... that?" He asked to himself as his eyes tightened.

He snapped back into focus when, Huntress finally mentioned, "Okay, I'm assuming you boys wanna go home, right?" Finn just exhausted said, "Yeah HW. I need some good meatloaf, and a comfy bed." Simon on the other hand, just gave a look of "The innocent man who's been through too much."

Huntress wizard looked at Simon with respect rather than pity, placing her hand on the antiquarian's shoulder. "You're an exceptional beast, Petrikov. But, you seriously need to realize that for yourself." Huntress complimented, Simon just giving a weak smile.

Huntress wizard put the dragon heart in the cloak Finn was still wearing, putting her hands on Finn and Simon's shoulders and teleported them through the grass.

'HUNTRESS WIZARD'S HOUSE. EVENING'

They teleported back to her house; Huntress wizard would already inside starting the ritual and Finn right following her.

"HEY WAIT A SECOND!" Finn shouted to Huntress wizard before she went inside, stopping to turn to him. "Uh, yeah Finn?"

"Why did you need to shoot arrows at trees if we could just teleport back?" Finn inquired, Huntress just tilting her head. "Eh. Mainly just out of habit. You never know when I'll run out of spells in battle and need to get home."

"So did you nearly run out of spells during the fight?" Finn responded.

"Nah, I mainly was banking on Simon letting loose." She concluded as she made her way inside, Finn just blushing slightly.

So prepared. So clever.

"Glob I love that woman. Told you she was ultimate nature guide person, Simon." Finn cheered, though lacking a response from his sad ice bro.

It wasn't Until Finn turned back to a clearly traumatized old man blankly staring at nothing. "Yo, you coming man?" Finn asked.

Simon just rubbed his glasses as he looked up at the evening sky. "No thanks, I really just need to think on some things. Later Finn." Simon said sluggishly, the old man flapping his white hair and soared back to his cabin.

Finn would give Simon a solider solute and go inside Huntress wizard's house for the ritual.

But as Simon flew back to his cabin to unwind, a decision plagued Simon's mind as he replayed tearing the dragon in half.

"Glob, I Really need to get back into therapy." He said weakly, as he soared back to rest once again.

Notes:

OOOOOH BOY! It took me two days to write this. TWO DAYS! But on a real note, I mainly just been obsessively making sure the chapter was 'error free' before release, (You don't know how long I've spent updating the other chapters with their slew of grammar errors.) That and some personal shit with my family taking my laptop, and me trying not get distracted while typing.

But fear not faithful viewers! The next couple of chapters will focus solely on Minerva and Simon meeting her for the first time. See you then! 😘😘😘

Chapter 20: Reintroduction into society

Summary:

Minerva is having a bit of struggle adjusting to being alive. Like alive, alive.

'UP-TON. MORNING'

The morning sunlight shined over the futuristic, floating city of Up-ton. Clouds very few, but noticeably white and fluffy as they drift lazily through the air.

Until a floating figure made a literal hole in one of the clouds.

Citizens, children, even frigging talking dogs and cats looked up at Minerva riding on a naked version of herself, the reactions mixed.

"Yo, what the hell?" One Citizen with futuristic shades screamed with his hands on his head, proceeding to cover his eyes and run. "Mommy, what's tha-" One of the kids wearing a Finn hat were interrupted by their mom, putting their hand over the kid's eyes and running immediately.

Minerva's face gradually grew red as a tomato from what was happening, and from her, for the lack of a better term, "naked" means of transportation.

Though some being degenerate freaks, started taking pictures of the naked version of her, Minerva's eye's widening in shock and noping on out of there.

"Nope. Nope, nope, nope! Helper, take me to HQ!" Minerva repeated to herself as she soared on the back of the Minerva bot, as if it would help stuff the embarrassment down.

But as she soared on the bot's back, Minerva put a hand to her cheek.

Warmth. Real blood flowing to her face from something simple as embarrassment. So familiar, yet so new and thrilling to these physical sensations.

But there wasn't time to lollygag, as she soared through the clean and sleek buildings and houses, she saw the giant tower in the middle in the city.

"There," Minerva whispered, pointing to the floating tower with the blue antenna on top.

'UP-TON HEADQUARTERS LAUNCH DECK'

The Minerva bot landed gracefully on the launchpad rim of the tower, Minerva hopping off as she stretched her legs and arms. The fleshly satisfaction in popping bones after a long ride was unfamiliar but welcomed.

"We've arrived at our Destination, Master Minerva. Thank you for your service." The bot monotoned, the real Minerva smiled and just noticing another pair of her clothes on racks near the launch pad.

"Hold on." She piped up, rushing towards the rack and snatching the clothes, hastily dressing the soulless bot as if it were a person.

"There you go." She grinned, patting the shoulder of the bot affectionately as the bot flew to another task, and she walked further into the metal doors of the tower.

The plan was simple, mass control a good chunk of Minerva helpers to her aid, in preparation for her speech for Up-ton.

 

'THE UP-TON HEADQUARTERS'

The headquarters was crowded, scattered with Minerva bots running errands, others at computers across the walls of the room. surveilling Up-ton, monitoring water supply, surveilling citizen activity, and even regulating temperature in the city for hot summer days.

Minerva winced, overwhelmed by the sure quantity of the bots she created as she navigated. All of them running to their next task, next Up-Ton citizen to attend to, next maintenance repair in need for a fix.

Minerva attempted to scurry through the crowd, though the constant pushes and tripping didn't help much, alongside the endless chatter of their commands.

"Water fountains need rebooting in Sector 5!" One Minerva bot chirped. "A citizen needs his doctor's appointment check in Sector 11!" Another one blared in the real Minerva's ear, loud and distorting.

Minerva felt her heart race, her mind overwhelmed with the sounds and voices as she barely navigated through the crowd.

The enclose feeling weighed on Minerva's mind and body, nervousness plagued her every move as she searched for a place to focus.

Until. She saw an empty computer desk amongst the madness.

"Oh Finally, thank glob." Minerva gasped, moving and maneuvering to the empty desk pass busy Minerva bots.

She climbed from on top of the chair and standing on the keyboard, surveying the busy sea of Minerva bots running around.

"Okay, time to get everybody's attention." She said wearily, closing her eyes and concentrating on a handful of bots.

Her mind was blank at first, until she could feel her thoughts move across each mechanical helper.

As her mind scanned the sea of bots, she went through a bunch of bots that were going on missions, eventually finding the handful she needed.

Seven Minerva bots just finished with putting out a fire immediately snapped their heads up, eyes glowing blue as they synced with their creator.

"Come to me my babies." Minerva whispered soothingly threw her mind, the bots one by one activating their hand and feet boosters.

Before she knew it, Minerva opened her eyes to see 10 of her beautiful creations hovering in mid-air for her and ready for instruction.

"G-good." Minerva huffed, needing time to catch her breath. "We are at your service, Master Minerva." The bot in the middle chimed innocently. "What do you require assistance with ma'am?" It asked, Minerva straightening herself for the order.

 

"UP-TON APPARTMENTS. ROOM 23."

The bathroom was relatively new and fresh, any absence of humanity finally gone with Minerva roaming throughout as she readied herself to look presentable.

Brushing her teeth, taking a shower, brushing her blonde hair in the bathroom, and finally moving to the lint remover machine, the contraption the size of a closet as she stepped in, double checking her lab for anything that may look unpresentable.

She shouldn't care this much about self-image, especially with her spending decades as an AI on a screen. But her she was.

Scuttering like a bug through the bathroom as if she was getting ready for prom. Such a forgotten relic of an Activity.

Minerva Campbell head snapped to the mirror as she stared into it with everything in order. "Alright, time to knock them dead!" She said confidently into the mirror staring back, turning around to the door but hesitated to enter.

 

Minerva's thoughts spin back to ethics in doing any of this, the idea of her people, the last of humanity needing her as an AI rather than a human. The guilt getting heavier with each second.

 

"My people would understand, right?" Minerva questioned as her hands trembled over the nob, the sound of Minerva bots gathering citizens downstairs was anxiety to Minerva's ears.

"They'd understand I need a break. Right?" Minerva questioned again, her hand finally landing on the nob.

And she turned it and left.

 

'UP TON APARTMENT. OUTSIDE.'

Minerva walked down the steps of the apartment complex, down to where her citizens who bother to show up.

She opened the door, greeted with a podium and floating microphone, Minerva bots lined up evenly for the announcement.

But Minerva's gaze shifted to the most important part.

Her citizens. Big and small, some wearing puffy outfits and others wearing skates, some were concern mothers holding their kids tightly, and others were just citizens afraid of change.

But Minerva's face sharpened with resolve, The leader of Up-ton walking up to the podium and picking up the mic.

"Citizens of Up-ton! Or humantown, if you prefer." Minerva joked slightly, getting a little bit of a chuckle from the crowd.

Minerva continued with, "I've came to a very recent decision. A decision I got from... well you all." She put it bluntly, the crowd getting closer in intrigue.

"When I watch over my city, what truly brings me joy isn't simply solving a leak, putting out a fire, or even fixing a broken air system. It's from seeing humanity thriving, being in tight friendships, romances, even forming families of their own. So, I decided to take a... step back, so to speak. I, as of now, am unplugged from my AI prison and reassume my humanity!" Minerva announced, getting silence at first until.

 

"Well, who's going to watch over us?" One of the mothers asked urgently. Minerva straightened, responding with, "The Minerva bots will still be active and take care of you. I myself am really just taking a probably indefinite break from running Up-ton as an AI."

Another concern was rose up. "How will we tell the real you from the bots?" One citizen asked.

"Um, well." Minerva stuttered a little before calmly reaching into her lab coat, pulling out some cartoony looking yellow button reading "I'm the real Minerva!" on it, Stamping it on her coat immediately.

"Oh, that makes sense I guess." The same random citizen added.

"I'll be answering any future questions with my Minerva bots. Thank you everybody for inspiring me to live as amongst you all!" Minerva concluded, getting some applause, but some looking skeptical of the change, especially the mothers.

But with another bridge crossed, It was only a step closer to Minerva's rediscovery of being human. Again.

 

'EQUILOUGE. STILL IN SERVICE'

It was 12:30am.

Minerva would be in the apartment, wearing a basic bathrobe and slippers a week after the announcement, really meaning it when she expressed her desire to live amongst humanity again.

She would mainly be in the kitchen, cleaning the floors while munching on a loaf of sweetbread she made.

But out of nowhere, Minerva heard a text beep from her phone, placing the mop and sweetbread on the counter to see its...

Simon petrikov? Minerva's eyebrow's furrowed in confusion, remembered having a patient like that, as her time of having her personality split across her helpers.

But what was unordinary was what he said in the text.

 

"Hey Minerva. I was wondering if we could possibly have a one-to-one? Alot of shit went down and I really need to talk to someone qualified. Please help???😢😢."

 

Minerva just looked at the text blankly, chuckling to herself, "Well, I guess my work is never done."

Minerva texted back "Give me until tomorrow at 12pm, Simon."

Notes:

Expect the next chapter tomorrow. Hopefully.

Chapter 21: The icy wizard fantasy

Summary:

Simon and Minerva finally meet!! HOORAY!! But Simon during the therapy session is trying to cope with uncomfortable feelings of what he did to that dragon.

It was cold, raining afternoon in the land of Ooo. Raindrops tapping repeatedly on rooftops across the world, and Simon's cabin was no exception.

'SIMON'S CABIN. 11:58 AM'

The antiquarian found himself pacing in his living room, the uncertainty building, trying to pin down his thoughts on... everything.

He somehow fused himself to his insane persona to himself, He has magic now without insanity, and now recently he killed a dragon.

A FRIGGIN DRAGON!

He sat on one of the twin couches in the living room, pushing his glasses up on his face and looked at the floor.

He remembered that faithful day.

He remembered the anger, the cold, the scream of wanting to be free from victimhood.

But there was something else he remembered that he thought shouldn't belong.

Something he saw as disgusting, vile, and shouldn't be on his list of emotions.

 

Thrill?

floating above the dragon.

sending fists plummeting into the creature, fists made from ice and snow.

The release of pent-up anger.

The feeling of power.

Of dominance.

Of control.

"What? No!!" He thought to himself, shaking his head. He could never enjoy that, never in a literal a thousand years he's been alive.

He could never, right?

He could neve-

"Knock, knock." Came the softly at the door, Simon's head snapping towards the rather light sound.

"Minerva." The antiquarian whispered with faint breath, stumbling from the couch and answering the door.

Minerva Campbell stood there, elegantly. She wore a bright smile while wearing her iconic lab coat, orange blouse, and hat that resembles Finn's bear one.

She had a clip board clasped in her hands in front of her, looking happier than ever.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Petrik-" She paused, gazing at Simon's newfound blue skin, lightning shaped eyebrows, white hair, and this weird coldness that came with just being around him.

"Umm, y-you okay Minerva?" Simon stuttered adjusting his glasses, Minerva's hand went flying to her forehead. Her face was a brilliant red with excitement, shock and curiosity hitting her like a freight train as she couldn't take her eyes off of Simon.

"MY GLOB, SIMON!" She yelped, coming closer with medical equipment from her lab coat. "WOAH! Minerva, what are you doin-" were the last words Simon got out before She pulled many procedures in the span of like 20 seconds.

Minerva scrambled all over the frosty antiquarian's body. Simon's now inhumanly slow heartbeat, looking into his ears to find no wax, and opening his jaw to find razor-sharp fangs.

"YOUR TEETH!? YOUR SKIN, YOUR HAIR! IT-ITS LIKE YOU WENT THROUGH AN EVOLUTION, PETRIKOV! ITS ALMOST MAGICAL!"
Minerva rambled on, Simon gently putting her hands down. "Thats because it is." He said bluntly, Minerva finally stepping back, slight confusion plagued her face.

"Magic? As in 'hocus pocus' magic?" Minerva inquired, hand on her chin.

Simon opened his mouth, then closed it. He just simply invited her into the house, leading her to the living room to the twin couches as he sat down on one, and Minerva sat on the other.

"So, this all a part of your therapy session, Simon?" Minerva asked, clipboard in hand as she clicked a black pen.

Simon nodded, looking up at the ceiling. "It's all being weighing on my mind. This skin, these teeth, this hair, this ice magic."

"Ice magic?" Minerva asked.

Simon immediately slapped his hand on his head. "Right, right. I can do this now." The antiquarian said as he raised his hand, a small burst of ice lighting charging a nearby lamp that was unplugged, Minerva looking at it astounded.

"WOAH!" Minerva yelped again, as she documented this in her clipboard.

"Yeah, my magic is relatively tied to my emotional state now. Its honestly alot to get used to." Simon responded as his blushed face looked away, trying to will the pride out.

Minerva would collect herself, breathing in and out as she positioned herself more professionally on the couch.

"Alright, let's start this from the beginning. It's clear to me that your new 'condition' clearly has some... psychological effects on your body and mind."

Simon looked back, nodded along. "So how about we start this from the top. How are you feeling?" She asked empathically, leaning in closer.

Simon just looked back up at the ceiling, his fingers clutched together nervously.

"I feel... too many things, Minerva. I feel nervous about what comes next if its good or bad. I feel weird that this, any of this is really even possible. I know you remember are last sessions from before my... makeover, how you helped me move on from Betty and being Ice king again." Simon paused, thinking how to phrase his next thought.

"It's so odd. I just got done learning that I didn't need this madness, that I didn't need to be something that harmed me to have worth and purpose in this new-fangled world." He said, looking at his blue hands. "And now, it's like the universe is saying, 'You'll always be attached to this, so get used to it'. It's just super jarring." Simon concluded, Minerva swiftly writing down notes.

"Well, life doesn't necessarily give you consistency Simon. It's like that for all of us, like me for example." Simon's ears perked up.

"If you were to ask me years ago, while I was still an AI for the islands that I'd want or even miss my humanity, I'd call you crazy." Minerva chuckled, Simon looking so interested.

"Wait, you're not a Minerva bot?" Simon asked, his head snapping towards Minerva.

Minerva smiled warmly. "Nope! I rid myself of being simply a program. Now I'm fully fleshed out, still helping, but not forgetting about me this time." she gleefully explained.

Simon laid his head back on the couch, a weak smile creeping on his face. "Thats nice Minerva, really. I'm glad your satisfied with your freedom from being a martyr for humanity." His smile shrunk a little. "I'd wish I was happy with my freedom." He said quietly.

Minerva's eyes softened. "Well, like I said. Life doesn't always give you consistency, especially not with different people. But would you like to establish how you ended up like this?"

Simon looked over, his eyelids and brows dropping. "You're not going to document this for 'research', are you?" Simon monotoned, gesturing his hands.

"Maybe." Minerva blushed, holding up the clipboard over her face.

Simon looked back up and continued, explaining the wish loophole with Betty, his journey with Finn to fix it, and him learning he had to accept Ice king.

Minerva listened intently to Simon's struggle, his mental turmoil, his trauma, and reassuring him that he was here and survived.

"But there was something else, recently." Simon stated somberly, Minerva pulling up another sheet of paper for more notes, over the ones about 'magical drugs equal magical dissociative identity disorder ' with lots of question marks.

"Recently, I went on a trip with your son, Finn. Something about saving the 'heart of the forest' or whatever. But we had to fight some, sugar wafered, gumdrop eyed, pink scaled dragon." Simon stopped himself, looking back at a comforting Minerva, face alone getting Simon to continue.

"A-and I... I killed it." Simon said, his throat going dry, Minerva pipping up slightly.

"And how did that make you feel?" Minerva asked kindly.

Simon paused for a minute, unsure of what to say as frost grew on the couch.

He didn't want to admit any of his truer feelings on the fatality. The thrill, the power.

So, he said his more 'acceptable' feelings, such as, "I felt scared, monstrous, I-I even checked myself to see if I even mutated slightly into Ice king. But no nothing."

Minerva picked up on the shift of nervousness in Simon and the ice growing, thinking back to earlier to Simon's comment on emotional connection with his powers.

She decided to test something with asking, "How exactly did you feel killing the dragon? Like in the act itself?" Minerva said, noticing the ice growing a little bit more, Simon tensing, adjusting his glasses nervously.

"I, uh." He stuttered, not knowing how to tell this to Minerva, though her gazed just softened even more, leaning in on Simon as his body curled in shame.

"Simon. It's alright, this is just therapy. You can be honest without judgement, okay?" Minerva reaffirmed gently.

Though the room grew colder, as Simon sat up and tears strolled down his eyes.

Minerva just leaned back into the couch, studying Simon carefully as a memory came to her.

"I remembered something, Simon, something you said before your transformation. Is it okay if I say it?" Minerva asked cautiously, Simon looking up slightly with tears in his eyes, nodding slightly.

"Well, it was when you told me what kept you wearing the crown. When you were using it to defend Marcy." Minerva said cautiously, hands tucked in her pockets from the cold.

Simon's body tensed further, knowing what Minerva was about to get at.

"You said it wasn't just the madness taking over. It was also how you felt a 'high of power', Simon. Like for a minute, you could immerse yourself into this little fantasy of being this 'All powerful ice wizard', taking out your frustrations on whatever came across you and Marcy." Minerva said bluntly, the room growing with icicles, Simon's eyes began to fill up with tears and guilt.

"I ask this because... to tell you the truth Simon, I can't help but see a concerning pattern of this need for power. Over whatever you and Marcy faced, and now with the candy dragon. And I fear it maybe you're lashing out because of your victimhood. " Minerva said, giving Simon this look of pity.

Though Simon was drowning in tears, slight sobs and ragged gasps coming from the antiquarian as he lowered his head, clutching his white hair.

"I-I hate that I liked it." Simon muttered under a choked sob, Minerva sitting quietly and letting Simon vent.

"I hated it, Minerva. Glob, I hate how invincible I felt!" Simon cursed himself. "How I felt like this-this all-powerful thing, floating in the sky and smiting whatever I wanted. I did it out of anger, I did it out of dominance. I did it in spite of it scaring Marcy." Simon trailed off, still sniveling and brushing away tears.

"Simon..." Minerva whispered softly as Simon continued. "And now it's like some part of me likes having no consequences with my magic. No madness, No blackouts, no stupid quips about gunter or anything!" Simon sobbed, clutching his white hair as if he wanted to rip it off.

"Well, if you aren't crazy using your magic now, then why do you hate it?" Minerva asked, Simon paused for a minute.

"I really don't know, Minerva." Simon muttered faintly, the cold in the room finally dying down.

"Anyone else in my shoes would be happy, y'know. No longer feeling out of place in Ooo, being able to defend yourself without turning into a stupid version of yourself, flying in the sky without a care in the world. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm used to feeling guilty about letting myself feel good." Simon lamented, Minerva placing down her clipboard and sitting next to the guilt drowned antiquarian, putting her hand over his trembling one.

"Simon. You've been surviving things no human ever should have to face, and maybe, just maybe. You should allow yourself to feel proud about that." Minerva consoled gently, Simon shifting slightly in fear.

"B-but what if I lose myself again?" His lips trembled, the question barely coming out as a whisper, Minerva just holding Simon's hand tighter to ground him.

"I mean, you did say you can use Ice magic without going insane right? That and I think it be alot easier to tame yourself now you have control." Minerva approved, Simon still looking at the floor.

"Have you ever just let yourself enjoy what you can do now?" Minerva asked plainly. Simon held his head up a bit, still wiping tears and cleared his throat. "N-no. Not truly."

Minerva shifted closer to Simon, a suggestion forming in the therapist's brain. "Well, maybe you could start small. Ever tried building things with your magic?"
She asked kindly.

"I 'sniffs' -I made an Ice sculpture for Marceline a couple a days ago." Simon answered back, Minerva's face brightening with joy. "Bingo! Then start with that. maybe you could make statues, trinkets, things that bring joy to you." Minerva pipped up, Simon finally picking his head up and looking over the room.

His tear-stained eyes picked up on the many VHS tapes of 'Cheers' sitting next to his old tv, an idea forming. "Well, I always wanting merch of the 'Cheers' show. Sucks to be so far in future that it probably doesn't exist anymore." Simon lamented, but a little bit of humor now.

Minerva's smile widened a little at Simon's realization. "So maybe you could invest time in that, in things that make you happy with who you are now, Simon."

"I-I'll try. For myself." Simon said with a little bit of confidence, Minerva giving him a reassuring thumbs up.

But then. Minerva looked at the time on her watch.

6:00 pm.

Not only that, looking out the window, the rain that once plagued the world was gone, not even a cloud in the evening sky.

Minerva's face went blank with embarrassment, slowly looking back up to a slightly confused Simon.

"I-I may have overstayed my uh, welcome Simon." She said nervously, immediately getting up and grabbing her clipboard.

"Wait, wait! We can still do more sessions, right?" Simon asked as he got up frantically, Minerva stopping at the doorknob.

"Yes Simon. We can. Though probably on a stricter time span if that's okay?" Minerva bubbled, Simon chuckling a bit.

"Yeah, I'll probably put a timer in here or something." Simon joked back, watching as Minerva walked out the door.

 

The antiquarian was left alone once more, going back to the couch, grabbed the remote and putting on an episode of 'Cheers'.

He skipped through the episode, pausing on a frame with Norm, the now familiar crackle of ice magic tickled his fingertips as he began to shape the ice in the shape of Norm.

Notes:

AND THATS ALL HE WROTE!!! (For now, I'm not ending this anytime soon.) Hope you enjoy and the tease of the future between Simon and Minerva! Though I'll probably be on a hiatus for a couple of days, so don't expect any new chapters till Wednesday or Thursday. TAKE CARE!!! 😃😃😃😃😍😍😍

Chapter 22: Fanart chapter 2, the electric boogaloo!

Summary:

More fanart I made!!! little bit of a bridge to hold you over till I'm off hitaus!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RvLRCTVnWxRhrQRIv209EY-GfB1xD7_I1BW3XKXJZs8/edit?tab=t.0

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1izqCLeqXmgvc-0vRgUQxkWknJVkKZt6NBkMY7CdXEcQ/edit?tab=t.0

Chapter 23: "Love me, for me Now." Simon petrikov.

Summary:

Simon learning to like who he is now, powers and all. Along with a good therapy session with Minerva.

'SIMON'S CABIN. 10:39 AM'

The morning sun filtered gently through the trees behind Simon’s cabin, the ground still dewy and soft. A breeze stirred the leaves, rustling the grass as birds chattered lazily in the canopy above.

The clearing — once a battlefield of emotion and storm — now stood quiet.
Still dusted with snow, but calm.

Simon stood on the cold earth, sleeves rolled up, his breath visible in the air — not from weather, but from the quiet hum of magic curling through his veins.
"Have you ever just let yourself enjoy what you can do now?" Minerva’s question echoed in Simon’s head as he looked to the sky.

There was no grief in him this morning.

No terror.

No frantic need to suppress.

No telling himself he didn’t deserve to feel good.

Just breath.

Just ice.

Just… a sense of possibility.

He inhaled slowly, eyes closed, hands outstretched.
And he let it come.

The cold crackled from his palms — not a blast, not a flare, but a small crackle.
Like a light show in his hands.

From the tips of his fingers, the lightning spewed from his hand as ice formed. And began to take shape.
A slow curl upward.

A slender arm.

A tiny face.

A floating ax-bass made of translucent frost.

From a bystander’s point of view, he might’ve looked like he was becoming one with the ice and snow.

Simon opened his eyes as the sculpture finished forming before him:
Marceline, the vampire queen.
Hair wild, fangs poking through a grin, her eyes full of life.

She floated gently in mid-air — a static sculpture, but somehow alive.

Simon smiled.

Not sad.

Just proud.

He stepped to the side and began again.

The next shape took longer — the posture more exaggerated, the smile bigger.

A bulky frame, a sword slung over his icy back.

Finn the Human, captured mid-run, his arm raised, mouth open in an enthusiastic yell.
Simon chuckled softly.

"Got your nose a little too big, sorry bud."
He moved to the third.

He focused on his round proportions, his floppy ears, little tail in the back he keeps forgetting that he had.

The ice bended in the shape of stretchy limbs in the middle of stretching to the sky, forming Jake the dog.

Simon stared at the Jake statue, walking towards it and placing a hand on Jake’s belly.

“Rest in peace, old friend. Wish I gotten to know you better.” Simon said somberly, moving to his final statue.

His hands trembled — not from grief this time, but from reverence.

He went slower.

Every detail mattered.

A careful brow.

Round glasses.

Turquoise, turtleneck sweater.

Her laugh frozen in time.

Fingers mid-gesture — like she was explaining something with too much excitement to stay still.
Betty Grof.

Simon stepped back once it was finished, heart beating fast.

The wind caught her ice curls and shimmered sunlight across her cheekbones.
Simon’s eyes stung.

But he didn’t cry.

Not this time.

He smiled at her. Quiet. Full.
Then he turned, brushing his hands together.
That’s when he felt it again—

The tug.

A flicker in his shoulders.

A pulse in his neck.

The same one he felt before, the day he flew to the soup store.
Curious, Simon crouched slightly, focused on the magic in his hair.
He gave it the faintest push—

FWMPH.
His white hair flared outward, catching the wind like soft sails.

“WOOAHHZZERS!” Simon yelped slightly as his feet lifted off the ground.

He wobbled — awkward — arms flailing—

Then steadied.

His hair flapped softly above the trees.
But instead of hastily heading to a destination, or bumbling in the air in fear of Up-ton citizens seeing him and taking photos.

He just floated there, silently.

Simon merely closed his eyes.

He could feel the breeze in face, listened to the gentle rhythmic flap of his white hair, his hands slightly raised as he allowed himself to feel the ice magic course through his veins.

It crackled and ran through his skin, like electricity through wires, tickling the insides of his body.

A small, content smile crept on his face as he just simply floated there, appreciating what he was.

A magical antiquarian, forever connected to the frost and cold. But he didn’t drown in it.

He wasn’t letting it consume him, letting it rewrite who he is, or even allowed it to be the only reason he’s known in this world.

Just simply appreciating this part of his life.

Like how he appreciated the simple but effective themes in ‘Cheers’.

Like how he admired the environments where an artifact or cave man drawing was located.

Like how he thinks about the possible drum beats he could make when he was Ice king.

Out of the many, many parts that made up, Simon petrikov.

He flapped his hair harder and rose a little more, surprisingly graceful.

Though, he probably looked ridiculous, like some blue idiot thinking he was ascending to the afterlife or something.
But Simon didn’t care.

For once, he wasn’t running.

He wasn’t breaking.

He was flying.

Not as the Ice King.

Not as some broken relic of a man.

But as Simon Petrikov — reborn, reforged.
Balanced between sorrow and joy.
Grief and hope.

His heart pounded, not in fear, but in exhilaration.

He landed roughly beside the sculptures again, stumbling a little.

The frost beneath him hissed quietly in response.

He turned to look at them again — Marcy. Finn. Jake. Betty.

Four parts of his life.

Four anchors.

Four reasons to keep living.

Simon inhaled.

And then, he turned and jumped back to the skies to glob knows where.
Just for the fun of it.

Simon didn’t just want to soar. He wanted to fly.

His body flew upwards and into the clouds, Simon’s body picking up speed as he chased the sensations of flight.

To feel the air rush past him, to push his body and magic to their limits. He tilted forward, his arms outstretched, and flapped his frost-laden hair faster.
The magic crackled brighter as his hands surged, propelling him forward like a jet through the sky.

The wind howled in his ears as he picked up speed, the breeze intensifying and biting at his face.

From the ground, he would have appeared as a blue blur, streaking across the heavens with impossible swiftness.

His heart raced with exhilaration, his movements fluid and instinctive as he twisted and turned through the air.

“Faster,” Simon muttered to himself, his voice lost in the wind. “I can go faster?”
His hair flapped furiously, the frost trailing behind him creating a glittering path of snowflakes that dissolved into the morning. He felt weightless, untethered, his entire body vibrating with the thrill of movement.

Simon angled himself downward, diving toward the clouds below. The mist parted around him as he passed through, his body cutting through the air with precision.

The ground loomed closer, but Simon didn’t slow—he twisted at the last moment, the frost at his hands surging to propel him upward again in a sharp, arcing motion.

“WOO, BABY!!” He yelped, raising his arms in joy, letting out a toothy smile. “That was… actually fun.” He said softer. For so long, his magic had been a burden—a reminder of the crown, of the madness it had brought.

But now, here in the open sky, it was freedom. It was joy.

The faster he went, the more he felt himself leaving behind the weight of his past.

The wind against his skin, the rush of cold air in his lungs, the crackle of his hands as they cut through the sunlight—it all blended into a symphony of motion and sensation.

From the ground, a few wandering eyes caught sight of him. A candy citizen, an older one, walking home from a shift, paused and pointed upward.
“What was that?” he muttered, squinting into the sky.

Though he failed to notice his wife coming out of the house to greet him, dragging him back inside.

“It’s just your hallucinations, dear.” His wife said dismissively, putting a pill in his wrinkly mouth, gagging slightly.

Simon was oblivious to the spectators below. He was too focused on the thrill of the moment, the way the sky seemed to open up before him, infinite and welcoming.

His hair, flapping like wings, shimmered brighter than ever as he pushed himself harder, faster, higher.

But as the Antiquarian flew, now fully enjoying the type of man he was, a reminder flashed in his brain.

Minerva. His therapy session. AT. 12:00. PM.
The thought made Simon pause mid-air, his face void of blood or expression as he slowly looked down to his watch.
11:44 Am.

“Mother.” Simon whispered, until. “MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER!” He screamed like a manic as he frantically flew back, soaring like a fighter jet to his cabin.

 

'SIMON"S CABIN. INSIDE AND EXHAUSTED.'

Simon’s normal, calm living room contrasted sharply with his ruffled white hair, the white puffs of exhaustion, and the faint frost that gathered at the edges of his glasses from the desperate flight back.

His body sank into the couch he laid on, trying to ground himself in the calmness of his surroundings.

Still, the space felt safe—somewhere Simon could speak freely without judgment.

Across the coffee table with a hastily placed timer, Minerva sat, her clipboard resting on her lap, her empathetic eyes focused intently on him. She wore a calm, encouraging expression, her presence steady as always.

“So,” Minerva said, her voice soft but curious, “how have you been since our last session?”

Simon adjusted his glasses, a small smile playing on his out of breath face. “B-better, I think. I’ve been experimenting with my magic more, trying to see what I can do.”

“I can tell, petrikov.” Minerva smiled knowingly, getting a nervous chuckle out of Simon.

The icy antiquarian looked back up at the ceiling, fiddling with his fingers. “Though, that isn’t all I’ve been feeling.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Oh? What else has been on your mind?”

Simon hesitated for a moment, then let out a small chuckle. “It’s funny, really. I’ve spent so much time thinking about what I lost because of the crown that I forgot about the things I loved before it came into my life. Like… antiquities.”

Minerva tilted her head, intrigued. “Antiquities?”

Simon’s glowing eyes brightened as he nodded. “Yeah, I used to be an antiquarian. A popular scholar before the mushroom war, collecting ancient artifacts, relics, and the stories behind them. There was something magical about uncovering the history of an item, piecing together the lives of the people who made it, who used it.”

His voice grew more animated as he spoke. “I remember traveling to forgotten libraries, dusty markets, and remote ruins, searching for treasures. Not just for the sake of owning them, but for the sake of understanding them, y’know? Every artifact had a story to tell, and I wanted to share those stories to the world.”

Minerva smiled warmly, her tone encouraging. “That sounds incredible, Simon. Why did you stop?”

Simon’s expression faltered, the glow in his eyes dimming slightly as he pondered the question.

Minerva reached across the small table, her hand brushing lightly against Simon’s. “You’re Simon Petrikov again,” she said gently. “And if you loved antiquities so much, why not pursue that passion now?”

Simon blinked, his glowing hands fidgeting slightly. “You really think I should go back to being an antiquarian?”

“Why not?” Minerva said with a soft smile. “Well, it’s clear how much it means to you. The way you talk about it—it’s like it brings you to life. And I'm sure Ooo is full of mysteries, Simon. Artifacts, ruins, forgotten histories. Imagine what you could discover.”

Simon tilted his head, her words sinking in. “I never thought about it like that. I’ve always seen myself as someone who used to be an antiquarian, not someone who still could be.”
Minerva nodded, her tone firm but kind. “You’ve spent so much time focusing on what you lost, Simon. Maybe it’s time to focus on what you can still find.”

Simon leaned back in his couch, his glowing eyes distant as he considered her suggestion. The thought of returning to his passion filled him with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Could he really do it? Could he rediscover that part of himself?

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Simon said finally, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I mean, Ooo is full of strange and wonderful things. ”

Minerva’s smile widened. “Exactly. And you’re uniquely equipped to understand them—both as a scholar and as someone who’s lived through the history of this world.”

Simon laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “You’re making it sound like a calling.”

“Maybe it is,” Minerva said with a wink. “And I have no doubt you’ll be brilliant at it.”

By the end of the session, Simon felt lighter, as though a weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying had been lifted. His mind buzzed with possibilities.

The thought of becoming an antiquarian again, of searching for relics and uncovering stories, filled him with a sense of purpose he hadn’t felt in years.
It wasn’t just about reclaiming a piece of his past—it was about building a future, one shaped by his passions and not his pain.

For the first time in a long while, Simon Petrikov didn’t just feel like a man trying to heal.

He felt like a man ready to rediscover the world. And as he began planning his first expedition, he couldn’t help but smile, the frost on his hands sparkling like the treasures he was sure to find.

Later that day, ignoring any Up-ton citizens, he went into one of the stores for Up-ton, labeled, “Guide on this whacky world!” The sign read in a ridiculous font.
But Simon didn’t pay no mind, going in and purchasing a map of the land of Ooo.

The purchasing and flight back went like a blur, Simon’s mind already wondering about places he could explore to reconnect with this part of his life again. With or without Betty.

Notes:

I'M BACKKK BABYYYY!!!! Expect another chapter maybe later today, or tomorrow. STAY TUNED!!!!!!!

Chapter 24: The beast eye. Part 1

Summary:

Huntress wizard finds a weird rock or something.

'DEEP FOREST. 6 AM'

WACCKK!! Came an arrow striking down a rabbit, Huntress wizard's aim being near prefect. She knelt and examined the dead creature that lay at her feet, pulling the arrow out and putting the rabbit in her cloak, alongside squirrels and other rabbits she'd eat later.

It was simple, methodical. The hunting, the precision, the strikes it was like breathing for the nature wizard.

But there was something more.

As she trotted through the forest, her mind began to ponder about things, about her. About her connection to nature.
Nature. The thing she grew to love more than anything, so much to the point of learning the mad and sad ways of being a wizard.

But as she swiveled her head for anymore animals, she could hear that small part of her brain, deep down telling her, "This wasn't enough." It whispered.
That her connection needed to be deeper despite having pretty much everything. The leaf hair, the branches in her head, naturally being able to bend the forest around her with ease.

But as her thoughts whispered to her, she found something... rather odd.

in a secluded area, she found a small... temple? Holding place?

Huntress's eyes squinted as she stared at it.

It was a little structure made of stone bricks, the doors made of branches and vines tying it together, alongside wooden doorknobs.

"What's this?" Huntress asked to herself, curiously wading over to the structure. She had never seen anything like this before, though that shouldn't be.

She was a huntress. She should've had every part of this damn forest memorized in her head to a T. But here was this... temple, or whatever.

Huntress wizard went to open the door, only for a yellow forcefield to spring up, Huntress instinctively flipping back and raising her bow.

But she slowly lowered it, looking at the forcefield that surrounded the temple, almost like it was telling her to leave and not pursue what's inside.

Which Huntress would try too anyway. She has slain countless beasts, both in the wild and in bed. (Finn obviously)
Who was she to say no to this?

Huntress wizard had spent probably hours trying to open the temple, trying just about everything.

She tried shooting arrows, slamming the forcefield with trees, firing solar beams at it, even trying to uproot it via vines.

Though none of it worked, this odd frustration building.

Not the kind of frustration you get from trying to solve a puzzle, or trying to find your favorite food in the fridge to no avail.

Huntress wizard stood hunched over, ragged breaths, sweat dripping from her green brow, fists balled, and with a growing anger.

A growing, primal anger.

And then.

The forcefield shimmered again, as if it was opening up Huntress's green eye's widening.

She ran to the opening, reaching her hand out to get in.

Only for the forcefield to close again, leaving Huntress even more agitated than before.

And then, very unlike are usual calm wizard.

WHHHAMMMM!!!!!

Came a punch from Huntress wizard onto the forcefield. "GODDAMMIT, DOOR! OPE-" She screamed mid-way before looking at her reflection in the forcefield.

Her eyes were black, the green silts that are her pupils sharpened and glowed, her leaf hair was noticeably longer, and her branches grew slightly.

"Glob," She whispered, but as she was observing herself.

The forcefield opened.

But Huntress wizard was in awe as the transformation receded. "Huh, I guess it was some kinda test of how badly I wanted... whatever is in here." Huntress documented out loud, finally entering the temple.

It was a small temple, like your dad's shed in the backyard. but it contained one thing.

A small yellow orb with a black slit, resembling an animal eye. It was held in a small stone bowl on some stone pillar, dusty and looks as if it hadn't been touched in years.

"Really? all that for a fancy rock?" Huntress whooped disappointedly, deciding to take it anyways for collection or maybe to show to Finn, who was sleeping in this morning.

But when her hand touched the rock, something happened.

It was as if something awakened deep within Huntress wizard. Something animalistic, something primal.

She took a step back, its magical aura already within her. But now, she heard better. She could see better, down to the small bits in the stone all around her.

But she could smell better too.

Huntress was a little disoriented for a bit, but snapped into focus as she marveled at her new senses.

She could hear birds chirping from miles away, her head snapped to the door she just entered, able to see farther and sharper into the woods.

But also... "Sniff, sniff." Huntress instinctually took a couple of whiffs through her nose, detecting a deer one mile away from her.

Huntress wizard allowed a smile to creep on her face as she looked back at the yellow orb, picking up the light object and holding it close.

"Guess your worth something after all." She quipped, putting the orb in her cloak as she chased the scent.

She dashed through the forest, faster than before and with a hella lot more stamina. The run felt like a blur as she found the deer, merely feeding on grass as it minded its own business.

Which was Huntress's business.

She drew an arrow, about to shoot when she nearly tripped on a rock.
"Crap." She whispered to herself, the sudden noise making the deer run away, as deer usually do.

Normally, Huntress wizard would just let it go.

Normally, she would just find another deer, some other animal to prey on.

But Huntress wizard, now?

Lunged.

The scent of the deer didn't just alert her of his presence. It awakened something.

She sprinted wildly through the forest in the pursuit of the animal, jumping off boulders, branches, even slicing down trees with her... claws?

Her speed increased rapidly, the image of the deer running only making her drool as she finally landed on the thing.

The adrenaline didn't end there, as this heat ran through Huntress's body, increasing with the more pressure she put on the squirming deer.

Drool touched the deer's fur, filling it with fear at the predator that loomed before him.

She sank her hands deeper, breathed even harder, felt saliva coursing through her mouth, the heat rising as she opened her jaw and...

MUNCHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

She bit down.

On the deer's neck.

And every nerve, every cell, every part of her body. WAS LIT. ON. FIRE.

She took another bite, and another, and another. The texture, The fat, the muscle, the blood. it was... so sweet. So salty and warm. So right.

Euphoria ran through her like a drug, Huntress wizard just moaned as she tore and ate the deer's organs viciously, her newfound sharp teeth sinking into her prey as she tasted the deer's blood again.

"Mmmmgggh." She groaned, her black eyes rolled up at the sky, the smell flooding her nose, edging her to continue feeding.

And feeding.

And feeding.

And feeding.

Until there was nothing.

Huntress wizard looked down at the deer again, expecting more meat only to find a skeleton.

picked clean I might add.

She looked at the skeleton, multiple emotions swirling inside Huntress.

Shock at what she'd done, wondering what she even done.

But also, how to do again what she just done.

Because it felt fucking amazing!

Because it felt like what she's been searching for!

Because it made her feel like an animal.

Like she was REALLY connected to nature.

Huntress wizard stood back, looking down at her bloodied clothes in shock and slight amusement.

"Wow, I. that rock... wow." She whispered.

But then she inhaled again... another scent. A boar, ohhhhh and it was a big one too. PERFECT! OH, SO PERFECT!

All of the sudden, Huntress's clothes felt tighter on her, unbearably so as she looked down.

"What the... Get off me." She snarled, ripping her clothes off as they disappeared into grass.

Her green body was bare, mushroom's growing on her shoulders, branches extending alongside her leaf hair. She walked the earth, barefoot once more, feeling the grass behind her soles as she began walking toward the scent.

Then speed walking.

Then running.

Then running on fours as she chased the next hunt.

Huntress wizard was gone in her newfound instincts.

But the Yellow orb stayed on the ground as it glowed faintly.

Notes:

Expect a follow up tomorrow, gang!!!!!

Chapter 25: The beast eye. Part 2

Summary:

Simon decides to learn what it means to really live life again, taking up Minerva's advice to rediscover his love for antiques. And just to spice it up? He would venture out at night. Surely there isn't anything that would harm Simon on this search, right? Warning, there's a little bit of smut towards the end. BE WARNED.

'SIMON'S CABIN. 9:00PM'

The cabin in the woods glowed faintly from its windows, the only light illuminating in the dark, seemingly peaceful night.

Inside, Simon petrikov, the antiquarian was readying himself for this... hunt? Quest? Adventure?
As he packed some things for the search, Simon couldn't help but feel this weird yet familiar thrill of it all.

The idea of finding something new, uncovering an artifact's story, doing this when its pitch black out, and what's this? Actually, having fun exploring?

The beast eye. The idea of it intrigued Simon, the yellow orb bringing out repressed emotions and instinctual needs and desires.

Something to study. but never, NEVER use.

He recently and reluctantly, decided to visit wizard city, trying to get the know on any artifacts he could find. He eventually came across Forest Wizard, who told him of an artifact called, "The Beast eye", located deep within the woods where Simon happened to live.

"Yes, yes. It's an old relic, Ice king. One that can only be stopped by-" Forest Wizard paused, looking around for Simon only to find him flying away.

"WAIT! YOU NEED TO KNOW THE CURE TO THE ORB!" Though Simon merely ignored him and his screams, already having what he needed to know and couldn't stand being called Ice king. Not now. Not ever.

He was packing his giant backpack, the same one carried when he was traveling with Marceline during the aftermath of the mushroom war, thick and huge.
"Okay, so just to run down one last time, this might be a search of a lifetime." Simon quipped as he checked his backpack for everything he needed.

Gloves to pick up the orb? Check.

Map to search for it? Check.

Rations for hunger? Check.

coffee supplies to stay awake? Check.

Flashlight? Check.

Wate-? "Oh, who am I kidding? I can probably make water." Simon joked out loud as he ventured across the house, passing by a table with little ice sculptures of the 'Cheers' characters.

He turned off all the lights in his house, simply pressing his hand on a light switch, controlling the electricity within to temporarily shut it off.
"Huh, neat."

Simon rushed back to the bedroom and grabbed his bag, slipping his arms through the straps, and looked towards the door, tempted to open it.

But that lingering sense of doubt swirled around his mind like an unwanted snake, Simon's resolve dimming slightly.

What if he dies?

What if he gets scarred?

But Simon's face went from discouraged to determined, reaching for the doorknob despite his fear.

He walked out into the dead of night, putting on a brave face against the pitch blackness that surrounded him.

Pass the porch, pass the tomato garden he'd made sure not to trip over, and finally, past his wooden fence and into the unknown.

 

'THE FOREST.'

The trees blew against the night wind, yet there were no sounds of squirrels scurrying through trees, or rabbits hopping by.

Strange.

Simon quickly flipped on his flashlight, alongside his folded map for the location of this so called 'Beast eye'.

"Let's see, Forest wizard said it was located in some kind of temple." Simon said, scanning the area via flashlight, finding nothing but brushes and trees.

"Hmph, guess this is going to be a bit tougher, huh." Simon monologued brightly, looking back down at the map.

Though Simon began to notice things about his dark environment.

There were barely any animals in the woods, no owls, no snakes, no deer. All just gone, POOF. Like they all left for vacation.

And with no animals, meant barely any sound, Simon only hearing the blowing winds against tree branches, the sound of his own shoes crunching against fallen branches, not to mention, scratch marks on the trees.

Until.

SPLATT!! Came Simon's shoe, the antiquarian thinking he might've stepped in a mud puddle or something.

"Oh, silly me. guess I should mind where I ste-." Simon paused.

As he looked down, he didn't simply see a puddle. More like a small pond of blood coming from a mostly eaten deer, its eyes gone and plucked out, its antlers ripped viciously out, its fur ruffled and doused in blood and... No Guts?

Simon wanted to puke, but the horrors didn't stop there.

He flapped his hair slightly over the deer, only to shine his light on birds with wings pulled and beaks yanked off, porcupines lay bare and mostly eaten without quills, with bloodshot eyes staring at the starless night, and a thunder boar with its cloud-like body shredded via claws and insides picked clean.

Simon was disgusted surprisingly. Despite fighting vampires, zombies, a magic crown that made him go crazy, he found himself deeply disturbed by the macabre that laid before him.

"Oh breadballs," The antiquarian whispered, horror tugging at his insides as he landed away from the blood spill. He still pursued, but now with urgency at the possible dangers that were deep in the forest.

As he walked, He couldn't believe he actually missed Finn's playful banter, his warm smile, his energetic attitude.

Because without it, and with this tight, enclosing atmosphere. Simon felt as if he was trapped in a horror game.

Simon would be walking past fallen branches when suddenly.

His flashlight went out.

"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT." He muttered like a prayer.

Instant fear and shock ran through the scholar, desperately trying to get it back on by banging on it with his other hand, finally remembering he had ice lightning, charging it back up in no time.

Which was too much time, apparently.

"There we go! alrighty, my bearings pleas-." Simon growled before being interrupted by a deer, with a huge bleeding scar over his face running at him, the eyes of it bloodshot and filled with fear.

"OH SHI-, BREADBALLS!" He said instinctively, flying up to see the deer running frantically.

From what Simon could make out from below, the deer had its legs nipped at and an antler ripped out.

But what disturbed Simon the most?

It was running, with its organs hanging out. As if it was running to die peacefully rather than be torn apart by... whatever it was running from.

Which Simon nearly got a glimpse of.

It moved too fast for Simon to comprehend, though he was able to make out a humanoid arm and... branch?

Simon shivered, his face drained of blood as he reluctantly flew down, trembling hands held clutching the flashlight.

Though he should've been going in the direction of the orb, he frantically checked his pockets to find that the map was gone, probably dropped near whatever was after that deer.

Simon gulped, trembling towards where the deer ran too, as he turned his flashlight on again.

He'd should've just found the map and leave.

But. this weird curiousity tugged at the antiquarian, moving him foward.

He Would move slowly through the trees, eventually doing what Marceline does and floating midair via flapping his hair.

His ears picked up sounds of crunching, cries from the deer that made Simon flinch, splashes of wet slick blood, and the mashing of teeth. Sharp ones.

But it wasn't just that.

He heard something he thought he'd never hear at a time like this.

Moaning.

Like someone was enjoying themselves.

Like this wasn't just food, it was relieving some primal urge, some-some animalistic euphoria.

It paralyzed the antiquarian. Leaving him gasping for air, scared for his life.

How could someone enjoy that?

How could someone revel in that?

But with little determination. He kept on walking, no. Floating. Slowly.

His mind wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he didn't know, as he continued forward.

The sounds grew louder, more feral, more needy.

Until finally, he reached it.

Simon looked down noticing pooling blood like before as it led into a bush, alongside his map drenched in it. Useless.

But as he flew closer, peaking slightly to find the most devastating thing in his life.

'THE PREDATOR'

It was Huntress wizard.

But it wasn't the normal Huntress wizard, the slightly weird, slightly sarcastic but calm forest sorcerer.

Her clothes were gone; her naked body hunched over the deer, and smothered in deep red stains of blood covering her head to toe.

Her branches were sharper, longer. Her leafy hair was longer, and ragged.

Simon ironically, shivered deep into his core.

her movements were erratic and uncanny, constantly twitching as she feed, her legs shaking with... excitement.

As if she couldn't express enough how happy she was to be doing this.

Simon couldn't hold back his disgust and fear, puking into another bush next to him.

But when he looked back up, his heart dropped out of his round ass cheeks.
Huntress wizard was staring at him.

Simon lost all breath in that moment, paralyzed by fear.

Five seconds passed by, and no one moved.

Huntress wizard, so deep into her instinctual nature, barely registered the man that layed before him was Simon petrikov, Her pitch-black eyes were practically pressed against Simon's trembling form.

And Simon? Was absolutely horrified by the sight, by the smell as he covered his nose, and by the stillness of it all.

"H-Huntress..." Simon squeaked under his hands, fear edged on his face, Huntress continuing to stare at him.

She took a one whiff. And then a another.

And then she began walking towards Simon, his body screaming at him to run.

As he did.

'THE CHASE'

"OH, OH, OH, OH BREADBALLS!!!!!" Simon screamed into the night as he flew out of there, immediately regretting coming out here.

Huntress wizard though, was on the prowl, already running for the intruder at Mach speed.

Simon would fly up into the trees, only to his shock, the trees quite literally folded in each other, blocking Simon from leaving.

"WHAT?" Simon yelped, but with no time to contemplate as Huntress wizard controlled the trees, branches reaching for Simon's floating form.

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, WOAH!!" Simon yelped repeatedly, dodging and weaving from the branches, freezing them rapidly until he was struck down by one, falling into the trees.

Simon barely recovered, but stood anyways as looked around for Huntress wizard.

As he looked around rapidly, Simon realized he knew one very important fact:

If you ever find yourself in a horror movie scenario, and the monster is staring directly at you—do not break eye contact. Do not move too fast. And for the love of glob, do not run.

 

Running makes the chase fun.

And Simon? Which to his credit, attempted to do so. And look where it got him.

His neck snapped to the left, shining his flashlight at the primal Huntress wizard, making sure not to let the light leave her.

Carefully, He placed the flashlight in an odd flashlight holder he conjured, lifted his hands, palms out. "Hey. Huntress Wizard. It’s me. Simon. Your friend. Y’know, the guy who very generously accepted your deeply questionable quest choice?"

Silence.

The air was thick, charged, dangerous.

Huntress Wizard took a slow step forward, bare feet silent against the leaves.

Simon took an equally slow step back.

"Okay. So, uh. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you’re, uh… not super talkative right now?"

Another step forward.

Simon’s heart hammered against his ribs.

"Cool. Cool cool cool. I am in actual danger." Simon said, mostly to himself.

Then—

She lunged.

Simon’s body reacted before his brain did. He threw himself backward, barely dodging as she slashed the air where he had just been.

"OH SWEET STARS—"

And that was it. That was all it took.

Simon had triggered the chase. again.

Huntress Wizard moved.

Fast. Too fast this time. She zoomed quickly to Simon, slashing across his jackie with her claws, repeatedly slashing as Simon repeatedly moved and weaved from her strikes. ""HUNTRESS, STOP! ITS ME, SIMO-AHH!!" Simon screeched to a high pitch as he narrowly dodged a vine, one that sprouted swiftly from HW's back. But of course, it gotten worse. Huntress sprouted 3 extra vines out of her back, cornering Simon to a tree as the vines pointed in his direction, ready to seize the threat. Simon panicked, Icy cold sweat dripping from his brow as he thought of anyway to escape this. Until he remembered something. He was an ice wizard. A FREAKING ICE WIZARD! He had no business cowering in fear like he did before, a look of determination crossing his face as he charged up ice magic in his hands. and then, PUOOSSSHH!!!!!! Came a burst of snow, blinding Huntress in the white for a minute, giving Simon time to regroup. As he hid in the bushes, the antiquarian gritted his teeth. He did not come all this way just to leave empty-handed.

But just as he was feeling himself...

SLASH!!!!

Came Huntress wizard's vines, popping Simon from the bush he was hiding in as he flew back a couple feet.

He planted his feet into the forest floor, grounded in the earth, hand outstretched. Ice shot from his palm, coating the ground beneath Huntress Wizard’s feet as she ran towards him on all fours.

She skidded, but—incredibly unfairly—she adapted instantly, digging her nails into the dirt to stop herself.

Simon cursed. "Seriously?!"

Huntress Wizard grinned.

Oh.

Oh no.

She was enjoying this.

She wanted the fight.

"Of course she does," Simon muttered bitterly. "She dates Finn."

Then she leapt at him like a wild animal, and Simon had exactly one second to realize—

And then—he saw it.

A glint.

A yellow glint.

Half-buried in the dirt, pulsing faintly, was the Beast eye.

Simon’s heart leapt. "There!"

But the moment he lunged for it—

she lunged again—

Huntress Wizard tackled him.

They hit the ground hard, rolling across the leaves, a blur of limbs and ice magic and something dangerously close to biting.

Simon barely managed to throw up an arm in defense—

"HW, STOP, I AM NOT A BURGER—"

But then—her eyes snapped wide.

Suddenly, her breath hitched. Her body stiffened.

Simon’s mind scrambled. Did I hit her? Did she snap out of it?!

Then—

She inhaled.

And oh no.

Simon could see the exact moment she smelled his blood.

The antiquarian was sweating bullets as Huntress wizard held his arms tighter.

The world disappeared around him, leaving the pumping adrenaline, the fear, and Huntress's sniffing at Simon to check him.

Though, for some odd reason, this felt familiar, scaringly so.

Being pinned down.

Being forced into something he didn't want to do.

At the mercy of someone else.

The feeling was instinctual, buried in the antiquarian from decades ago.

Being in someone's bedroom.

Being someone's prey.

Being rap-.

ZAPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Came Simon's hands, ice lightning jetting out of his palms and smacking Huntress into a tree.

Simon then rose into the air, over Huntress wizard, His hands raised up as he conjured a snowstorm.

Huntress wizard rose from her pain, facing Simon with her teeth baring in a sharp smile.

"A challenge, another beast to slay." Huntress wizard's animalistic mind pondered, as she flexed her claws, vines forming from her back.

"Another-"

"HUNTRESS!!!!!!!!!!!" Both Huntress wizard and Simon's necks snapped to see... Finn?

His clothes were tattered, his long hair that looked like a cape was covered in branches and leaves, his metal arm having scratches.

The two wizards, both of which were ready to brawl, looked to the human who came out of the woodwork. Finn finally stopped panting and said,"Yo, yo, HW. What are you doing, I've been trying to find you all day!" Finn protested, though she just stared at him. Like she knew him. In the mist of everything, she took an inhale to Finn.

Her face blushed at the sight of her mate. Deeply.

Simon spoke up, "Finn, Help! Your girlfriends been possessed by some artifact and I've been fighting for my dear life please Help!!" Simon pleaded and shouted at the adventurer. "I hear ya, man! I've been on the hunt for her all day!" Though Finn looked back at Huntress wizard, seeing her crawling towards him.

"Yo, Huntress? You doing good?" Finn asked with concern. Simon watched with faded breath as Huntress wizard stood to Finn's level.

 

And... Kissed him?

She, began smooching all over Finn, while taking deep inhales of his chest and neck, the Human going from distressed to weirdly intimate?

"O-oh, Huntress, I," Finn barely got out, before Huntress wizard kissed his mouth shut, Finn shocked at first before kissing back, holding her tightly by the waist.

Simon watched dumbfoundedly, jaw to the floor as he tried to comprehend what he was witnessing.

Until it clicked.

What Forest wizard was yelling at him about as he flew away from him.

 

"HUMAN INTIMACY! THATS THE CURE TO THE ORB, ICE KIN- SIMON! HUMAN INTIMACY!!!!" He remembered him screaming, His stomach dropping once more.

"Oh no." He said bluntly, as he reluctantly continued watching.

Huntress wizard gotten Finn down to the floor, on top of him, kissing and sniffing him like an animal, both of their faces getting hot from arousal.

With a growl, she tore off Finn's blue vest and shorts, pulling down his undies to his large cock, Huntress wizard inserted her pussy gleefully with a growl.

"OHHHH HEEELLLLLL NOOO!" Simon shouted, immediately covering his face and looking away.

Huntress and Finn paid Simon no mind as they continued.

The musky, slightly sweet aroma of his arousal fills HW's nostrils, making her head spin with lust.

Her breasts bounce with each thrust, her claws digging into Finn's shoulders as she claims him as her mate in the most basic, instinctual way.

Finn groans, his fingers digging into her hips as he meets her frenzied pace.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the woods, punctuated by their panting and moans of pleasure. “That’s it, Huntress...take it all out on me," he urges, his own desire reaching a fever pitch. “Show me what you're capable of..."

Then, after all this time, Huntress spoke. "Finn...you smell... so amazing," She moans, her voice finally back after her frenzy, and it was thick with need. She impales herself on his dick with swift, animalistic motions, a guttural cries of pleasure escaping her throat as she sinks down to the hilt.

Finn gasps at the sensation of her tight, wet heat enveloping him, his hands flying to her hips as he tries to steady her, as the transformation receded slowly.

Simon's face was pale with disgust, and he was already heading out. He quickly swooped, swiftly formed ice gloves and scooped up the beast eye, bolting his icy ass out of there.

"NOPE! NOPE, NOPE, NOPE, NOPE!" He chanted feverishly as he flew in the sky, like a bird running from an apex predator, desperately trying to will away what just happened.

"T-they really just did that? In the forest?" Simon questioned himself on the flight back, looking down at the glowing orb in his hand.

"Well, one thing's for sure, you're NEVER leaving my sight." He said sternly, as if the Beast eye was a child that needed a talking to.

'SIMON'S CABIN. 4:00 AM"

Simon returned to the safety of his Cabin, willing the lights on as he took off the heavy backpack and threw it to the floor, yeeted the orb on one of the twin couches, and yeeted himself on the other as he looked up at the ceiling.

He took off his glasses and placed them on the table, gazing at the ceiling fan.

He breathed in and out, thinking back to everything that lead him here.

But one thing was for certain. despite the fear, the horror, the disgust.

He felt... alive.

And that was his last thought before he fell right to sleep on the couch, still in his probably torn jackie and pants, waiting for his drowsiness to drag him to the next day of madness.

Notes:

Expect another chapter tomorrow. Also, I want to start doing questions moving forward, I love getting to talk to you guys and I like to that more.

So for todays (Or tonight's question.) Question. What's your favorite chapter so far, and do you have a certain moment in the chapter you'd like to yap about?

Chapter 26: The primal aftermath.

Summary:

Take this more as an epilogue for the last chapter, Finn and Huntress wizard after there -uh, PASSIONATE night.

'THE FOREST 6:30 am'

The world was beginning to wake up again.

The few squirrels, raccoons, and other forest critters slowly came out of hiding, as the predator of last night was seemingly gone.

 

Finn’s mind stirred awake slowly, his body warm, his senses hazy.

The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting soft golden light over the forest floor.

The air was cool, fresh.

Everything felt… still.

Then—

Something shifted beside him.

A slow, contented sigh.

Finn’s eyelids fluttered.

His body felt heavy, his muscles slightly sore in a foreign and oddly familiar way.

And then it hit him.

Finn was naked.

Completely. Utterly. Bare.

His heart skipped a beat.

His eyes snapped open.

And there, lying right next to him, tangled in the vines and leaves of the forest floor—

Was Huntress Wizard.

Equally bare.

And looking beyond satisfied.

Finn’s brain short-circuited.

"S-She, Isn't a log?" He questioned in his head, his entire body went rigid.

His mind raced.

Oh. Oh GLOB.

We—

We actually—

His face burned, eyes darting around, trying to piece together the events of last night.

Tracking down Huntress wizard all day, finding all the animals she's eaten and killed, finding her in the middle of fighting Simon, and...

And...

How they f-fuc-. Slept together! Yeah.

"Dang, this is what Jake meant by tier 15? Cause she wrecked me like a boss." Finn joked in his thoughts.

Huntress Wizard was still asleep, her head resting against his chest, her leafy hair slightly messy, her body pressed against his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And Finn?

Finn was absolutely losing his mind.

He swallowed hard, carefully—very carefully—trying to untangle himself without waking her.

But the second he moved—

Her vines tightened around his metal arm.

A low, lazy hum escaped her throat.

Then, half-asleep, in a distorted, primal tone—

She whispered, “Mmm… my human.”

Finn’s soul left his body.

Finn was still trying to process reality when Huntress Wizard stirred beside him.

She let out a contented sigh, stretching slightly.

Then, slowly, her green eyes blinked open.

For a brief moment, she looked groggy, dazed.

Then she saw Finn.

Then she saw their lack of clothing.

And then—

She raised an eyebrow at Finn, not really shocked but just a little confused.

“…Morning?” she said, confused and a little too nonchalant.

Finn jetted up immediately, his arm finally being let go, and letting out a tired chuckle. "That was… wow. You were, uh… really into it last night."

Huntress Wizard blinked innocently, not noticing the vines retreating into her back, tilting her head just enough for her leaf-like bangs to shift.

"Into what?" she asked softly.

Finn paused.

Then blinked. "Wait. What?"

Huntress Wizard sat up slowly, expression still composed. "You seem awfully flushed, Finn. Did we do something?"

Finn looked absolutely dumbfounded, Huntress just scanning the area around them casually.

She noticed Finn's torn vest and pants, alongside his black shoes, all of which seemed to have been torn off in the heat of a moment.

Whatever moment that was.

She looked back to Finn, still flabbergasted by her casualness of... everything.

Then he spoke with, " Y-you really don't remember anything, huh?" Huntress, looking slightly intrigued as she sat criss-cross applesauce, looking to Finn as if he was going to tell some fairy tale.

"Alright then, hit me up. What exactly did I do?" She asked curiously, Finn just looking how Huntress didn't even bother putting on any clothes.

"Y--you don't need a bra, or anything, HW?" Finn hesitated, Huntress wizard just shrugging and responded with, "Eh, you already know what I look like, especially when I dom you in bed." She quipped nonchalantly, getting a small smile out of Finn.

"Now, spill it. What is it exactly that I do?" She monotoned, a little more seriously this time.

Finn scratched his back and looked over Huntress's head, conflicted and trying to find the words.

"So, I had to hunt you down, HW." Finn started nervously. "You were devouring the meat off all animals in the woods, and I got super worried." Huntress wizard looking a little surprised as she looked away, trying to think about what she last did.

"You were about to fight Simon until you saw me. Then we kinda went to tier 15. In front of Simon. But hey, at least your back!" Finn jested, though the nervousness still lingered in his voice.

But Huntress wizard's mind was elsewhere.

"Devouring animals? All day?" She pondered, thinking back to her last memory at the small temple.

The yellow annoying forcefield.

The Yellow orb.

The animal senses.

Then this, weird high of power. And then, black.

"All I remember is touching some weird stone, and it gave me animal senses." She said bluntly, looking back up at Finn's worried expression.

Thought there was something else.

It was faint now, but Huntress wizard now felt this odd tingle in her skin.

It wasn't bad, nor did it hurt, definitely tolerable for hunts. but it was there. Waiting.

"You okay, HW?" Finn asked, Huntress just staring blanky until snapping out of it and standing. "Yeah, yeah. I just feel this weird tingling in my skin. It... feels almost like a beating heart." She elaborates, immediately standing as she bends the grass and forms her usual cloak, thigh high boots, green shirt and belt.

Finn just watched her get up and was already beginning to walk back to her house.

"Soooooo were good, right HW?" Finn said as he gathered his torn clothes to stich back together later. Huntress turned, a reassuring smile forming. "Yeah, just probably need to stay away from that yellow orb."

But as she turned back to head home, Finn couldn't help but notice something while she talked.

Sharp teeth in her mouth.

like the night before.

Finn followed Huntress through the woods, clothes in hand, but now he was uncertain if this was the last time he would have to snap Huntress wizard out of... whatever that artifact did to her.

Notes:

I have a REALLY fun idea for Simon and Marceline next! STAY TUNED!!!!!

Chapter 27: Marceline petrikov! (Yes, I am dead serious.) Part 1

Summary:

Marceline teams up with Simon on a bit of a trip to legally change her name from Marceline abadeer, to Marceline petrikov.

'THE FOREST 1AM'

The vampire queen moved like a ghost through the forest, her long black hair swaying to the wind.

The cool air wavered off her gray form as she traveled. She wasn't wearing anything special; just slapped on a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and her usual red boots.

"Man, where is this old dweeb." Marceline snarked as she hovered off the forest floor, her boots barely grazing the carcasses of dead animals, alongside scratch marks on trees.

As she traversed, she whiffed the air for Simon, though that proved to be complicated with all the dead animals clogging her nostrils.

"Uggh. Glob, who's been hunting here?" She gagged, looking down to find a mostly eaten possum eyeing her funny.

She looked at it for a mean second and just continued floating. She needed to see Simon for something important. Something lifechanging.

 

'SIMON'S CABIN'

She arrived at the wooden fence of Simon's cabin, the place looking like it was trying its hardest to appear new, the recent paint jobs and renovations being painfully obvious.

Her brow furrowed at the house, Simon's scent making Marcy's nose wrinkle.

"Hmm, so he lives as a lonely only forest hermit, huh?" She quipped with a tinge of sadness.

her gray form floated up the steps and onto the porch, even looking into the peek hole on the door, just in case he was doing some late-night nerd activity.

"Alrighty!" Marceline huffed, as she gazed at the door. "Now that I'm finally here, I could just knock on the door like a normal person." she says as she's about to raise her hand to knock.

Though her signature, sharp-toothed, mischievous smile crept on her face, pulling her hand away.

"But last I check, A half-vampire half demon isn't exactly, 'normal'." Marceline giggled as she did air quotes, shifting into black tentacles to reach under the door, and into Simon's dark cabin.

But She didn't bother turning the lights on.

She floated silently through the house, observing Simon's digs.

She didn't necessarily want to be nosy. But, when your adopted father figure just comes to you with how he's, "fused" to his insane side, it never hurt to check for any negative signs of reverting back.

After all, the home is a look into the homeowner's soul. Or however that saying went.

The mischievous vampire scanned the place thoroughly, even more so than when she stole from Bubblegum's castle back in the day.

She found a neat bookshelf, Ice figurines from that show Simon always liked, a weird yellow eye thing frozen in an ice cube glowing like a lantern, and a pretty simple kitchen and guest room.

So far, everything was organized, everything was normal.

No gunter, no ice taking over the cabin like a plague, no drum set, really nothing in particular screaming, 'Ice king'.

She eyed the hallway, grinning like the demon she was, following Simon's scent to his bedroom, the door reading, "Don't wake me yet, I'm not ready to deal with how life sucks."

Of course, Marceline would absolutely ignore that and float on in anyways, seeing Simon's exhausted body lay peacefully across his bed, covers surprisingly covering all of his body with his shoulders peeking out.

Marceline just stared at him.

Her father figure, her friend, even kinda of a mentor sleeping peacefully.

Though he was still blue.

Marceline's eyes furrowed, looking away sharply. "No. He's still Simon. He's still the nerdy old man you grew to love, despite his... complexion. And hair." Marceline noted to herself as she floated closer, looking down at his heavy breathing and her smile resuming.

And poked his face.

again, again, again, again, and again.

Till he finally stirred, Marcy's grin growing.

He groggily turned his face side to side.

"B-betty?" He groaned, probably coming back from some romantic fantasy of her.

"Y-you aliv-." "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!" Marceline shrieked, shifting her face into some weird mix between a dragon and a bat.

Though Simon merely just put a hand on Marcy's face, accidentally plugging two of his fingers up her nose holes.

"Uggggghhh!" came Marceline as she pulled Simon's hand off.

"Betty, wait. let me turn off the oven alarm first, the pie is going to overheat love." Simon said sleepily, completely unaware of Marceline's presence or the violation of her nose.

She floated back, rubbing her nose with an almost offended look on her face. "Hey! Only I get to pick my own nose, Simon!" Simon still laid fast asleep.

Marceline just floated towards Simon again, gripping him by the arms.

"SIMON. WAKE.UP!" She commanded, Simon still asleep.

And then...

Marceline began shaking him. Repeatedly.

Eventually, Marceline tossed Simon out of the bed like a sack of potatoes, the antiquarian finally waking up and instinctively spouted ice lightning, Marceline nearly being hit.

The two just stared at each other for a moment, Simon staring in shock at Marceline in his house, and Marceline looking at Simon's developing abs, nodding her head with respect.

"Sooooo, you stop wearing shirts to bed because your jacked now, orrrrrr?" Marceline joked, Simon's flushed look of shock turning into a look of disappointment.

The dad edition.

Before Marceline can speak, Simon forms a giant ice hand and gently but firmly, shoves Marceline out the room like an unwanted fly, the door slamming shut behind her.

she was about to leave when she heard, "GIVE ME A MINUTE TO DRESS, I'LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE TO TALK TO YOU!" Simon yelled from the walls.

The vampire smiled a little bit as she made her way to the kitchen table, getting one of Simon's tomatoes out the fridge to suck clean.

Though it wasn't long until Simon came to 'greet' her.

He walked in, wearing his jackie, pants, shoes, and his goofy red bowtie Marcy wanted to suck for the longest time. "Glob, does that nerd wear anything else but his nerd drip?" Marcy asked in her head as Simon sat across from her, looking annoyed.

"So, would you like to explain to me why you're harassing me at 1am, Marceline?" Simon said bluntly as he adjusted his glasses, Marcy cringing slightly at the way he said her name so sternly.

Like the true Father he was.

Marceline looked at the gray tomato, looking back up to Simon, his face softening slightly at Marceline's.

"Simon. I-I." Marceline started and quickly stopped, breathing in and out, clapped her hands together firmly, and finally saying.

"I wanna legally change my name to Marceline petrikov." She got out in a hurry.

The whole house went quiet.

until...

"Wait. WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT--." Came Simon, nearly falling back into his chair.

Notes:

I'll see what I can do to get these next couple of chapters pumped out in no time!

Chapter 28: Marceline petrikov! Part 2

Summary:

Simon and Marceline officially go off into the night to legally get Marcy's last name changed.

'SIMON'S CABIN 1:24 AM'

Cold. Though the feeling was familiar to the antiquarian, that's all Simon felt as he lay on the floor, trying to process from what he'd just heard.

Marceline just stared at him on the floor, raising a bit of an eyebrow. "You good, Simon?" The vamp queen asked, Simon just giving a weak thumbs up.

Simon was still reeling from... whatever the Frick Marceline just said to him. The vampire queen just looking slightly confused and annoyed at her adopted dad on the floor.

Eventually, He got up, got his glasses, brushed off his jackie and pulled up his chair to sit in it once more. "So, could you explain to me again what you said Marcy?" Simon asked, trying to recompose himself.

Marceline just gave Simon a look.

"It's a pretty simple thing to want, y'know?" Marceline pointed out, Simon still dumbfounded. "I mean, I get that I raised you for a small portion of your life. But, why? Don't you and Hunson get along?" Simon asked frantically, Marceline crossing her arms.

"Simon. My relationship with my 'real' dad is as existent as my normal childhood. It kinda sucks." Marceline stated, Simon looking a bit concerned.

"Whatta mean it 'sucked'?" Marceline just looked away slightly before continuing. "I know you summoned him to protect me when you went cra cra, Simon. But he just wasn't like you. Like at all."

Simon straightened his posture to engage as Marcy went on.

"H- he really didn't even care to raise me. Just went on rants about sucking souls and shit, ate my fries when I was hungry. The one thing he did leave me with was my sick Axe guitar, but then he all of the sudden wants it back 999 years later when I was hanging with Finn." Marceline explains, head resting on the kitchen table, looking depressed as she retold her history. "He's like Ice king, in terms of being so silly, he doesn't realize that no one is laughing with or at him." Marceline concluded somberly, Simon looking heart-broken and apologetic as he pulled his seat closer.

"Marcy. Marcy, Marcy, Marcy. I'm sorry I left you with him, I-I'm sorry for ever abandoning you, I'm sorr-." Marceline just put her gray hands-on Simon's blue chin like she did as a child.

"It's okay, Simon." Marceline affirmed softly, stopping him from his babbling, Simon just wiping away a tear under his glasses.

"Thanks, Marcy. You were always the bravest between the two of us." Simon smiled slightly.

"Mmmmmm, yeah, I think we need to hammer out your, 'I think I owe the world my life' mentality." Marcy said with a smirk, Simon just looking confused and slightly scared.

"Simon, just repeat after me. Your."

Simon, reluctantly played along. "Your."

"Not, underline Not." Marceline reaffirmed.

"Not, underline Not." Simon said playfully.

"In debt to the universe. Say it all together."

"You- I mean, I'm. Not. In debt to the universe." Simon said triumphantly, Marceline just giving Simon a nice pat on the back.

"Good job, Ice dad." Marceline complimented, floating back to her chair.

"But seriously, I always felt more a connection to you than I ever did with my bio dad. Hell, I don't know if I'd be the same, flawless vampire queen if it wasn't for you." Marceline joked sincerely. "So, you up for it?" She challenged, offering a fist bump, Simon looked into Marceline's confident eyes.

He'd always saw Marceline as a daughter anyways. always dreamt of raising her, watching her grow as a person, giving her the normal childhood she deserved.

Who was he to not hangout with her now?

So, with his mind made up, he formed a fist with his hand and fist bumped Marceline.

BAMM! The room shook slightly from the impact.

"I'm in, Marcy." Simon smiled, matching Marcy's confidence as she gave Simon a giant hug.

"Thanks Simon, between you and my bio father, you were always my dad." Simon almost wanted to tear up at Marcy's words, wiping his glasses from frozen tears when she pulled away.

"You're welcome, My Fearless Marceline." Simon said, walking out of the kitchen, Marcy turning slightly.

"Where are going? You're not dipping out that fast, are you?" Marcy joked.

Simon was already out of the kitchen, searching for his map. "No,no Marceline, just trying to find my map is all." Simon exasperated, Marcy picking up on the sound of her future, legal dad digging in something.

She followed the sound to find Simon in his bedroom deep into his giant backpack, trying to desperately find the map he was yelling about. "You need some help there, Simon?" Marcy asked empathetically, but before Simon could speak, she causally pulled him out of the bag and brushed of the dust, like she was cleaning Hambo.

"So, I'm going to take a wild guess and say, 'No map'?" Marceline questioned, Simon giving a tired look. "No map, Marcy."

"Well crap! That sucks dude, you're always the best about navigation." Marceline complained and complimented at the same time.

Simon thought for more than a minute until saying, "I could take a trip into Up-ton and see if a store is open." Simon suggested.

"ohhhh but they might all be closed. Shit!" He contradicted.

"Ohhhh, I have a good idea to get those futuristic stores open again," Marcy said like she was planning to end the world.

Simon gulped, pulling the neck of his buttoned shirt. "Whatta have in mind?" Marcy's smirk just widening.

"Oh, you'll see. Follow me!" Marceline shouted, flying around and spinning Simon at super speed, leaving him dizzy and fully equipped with his backpack.

He immediately snapped out of it and followed the black blur.

All the way outside, Marceline cackling like a witch, holding out her hand.

Simon just gave her look of, 'don't scare me like that again' as he locked the door, his white hair gently flapping him off the ground to Marceline's surprise.

"Huh, forgot you can do that now." The vamp queen said thoughtfully, Simon floated right next to her. "Yeah, just learning to carry myself, y'know," He retorted back a smile, Marcy noticing his sharp teeth for the first time.

"Huh. WELL RACE YA TO UP-TON!" Marceline said with a cackle, speeding off into the night, Simon just floating there like an unwanted ballon.

"Oh glob, this is gonna be a long night." He commented on as he flew after her, leaving his cabin below in the woods.

'THE NIGHT SKY. 1:30 AM"

Marceline zipped through the skies, wild and free. She cackled into the night like the menace she was, her leather jacket blowing through the wind, arms outstretched as she embraced exactly what she was. An unpredictable, chaos gremlin.

Though with a noticeable lack of Simon at her side.

She glanced behind her, Seeing Simon peacefully fluttering behind her, to content at being in second place as always.

"Not on my watch." Marceline snapped, flying back to see her Simon grazing the skies like a depressed man.

"Heyyyy, you gonna at least attempt to catch up?" Marcy quipped to Simon, who merely looked over at her fondly.

"No thanks, Marcy. Todays, or tonight is about you," Marceline just giving Simon the most deadpan look in the history of all deadpan looks.

"Oh, okay then. Since tonight is about ME like you said, I wanna race you to Up-ton," Marceline smirked knowingly, Simon raising his finger to say something only for Marcy to push him through the air.

Within a spilt second of being hurled, Simon made up his mind.

He straightened his body, flapping his hair more purposely as he sped through the night sky, picking up speed like a jet.

But to no one's surprise, Marceline was catching up, black wings that she shifted on flapping her to Simon's speed, Marcy just pulling down her eyelid to taunt.

They were like that for a while, Speeding through the clouds. Marceline flapped her black wings faster, while Simon resorted to shooting out snow from his hands and feet to pick up speed.

The two were neck and neck, competitively trying to outdo the other, when Marceline managed to get the upper hand by a couple of feet.

They pushed through clouds like nothing, speeded past stars at top speed, even throwing birds off with their race.

"WATCH WHERE YA GOING! MAGIC PEOPLE!" One of the birds yelled, causing Simon to stop.

"Marcy! look out!" Simon shouted immediately stopping, Marceline laughing wickedly.

"Why? So, you can catch up old ma-CLANKK!!!!!" Came Marceline's gray form crashing into a slivery, futuristic skyscraper, Simon flapping around her twitching form in concern.

"You alright, Marcy?" The antiquarian whimpered, Marceline floated off the skyscraper and shook off the pain.

"Yeah, yeah, just a little banged up. Nothing I can't handle." Marceline says weakly, looking dizzily at the three Simon's that floated before her.

 

'UP-TON 1:45 AM'

Marceline and Simon wonder through the mostly abandoned looking city, finding very few lights on throughout the city. Marceline was mainly floating to many different signs, traffic lights, sliding her finger across the slick streets of Up-ton, in awe at how high-tech the place was.

"Whoa, Simon, you really used to live here!?" Simon just walking on the sidewalk, looking around with a slight nostalgic glint. "Yeah, it's kinda ironic that being reminded of the past can drive you out of the future."

"You mean how, where we are right now is strikingly similar to last time we traveled?" Marceline quipped.

"No, I mean how people keep reminding me of being Ice king," Simon turned swiftly, finding Marcy playing with one of the few active holographic signs.

Simon chuckled, "But yeah, I guess this is... somewhat similar to before. Just more abandon city and less oozers."

"Though, I bet I could throw a pretty good rock party here. y'know at daytime, with everyone cheering, and-"

"Without your sunhat, sun lotion or red snacks?" Simon finished slyly, Marceline pushing him slightly while laughing.

"Stop Simon, you know me too well," She giggled, Simon just looking down the road for stores.

"Yep, and that is why you want me to be your legal da-. OH MARCY, MARCY! LOOK!"

Simon pointed like one of the two soyjacks pointing meme at the last store, conveniently named, "Late night store."

"Uhh, Simon? I know it's been decades since you changed your glasses prescription, but I think the storeowner's walking out the store."

Simon looked back at what Marcy was pointing at, seeing some black, puggy dude in a purple jacket, and gray sweats.

He was minding his own business, innocently counting his money as people do.

"Hey, sir. Sir!" Simon shouted as he flew to the guy, standing right in front of him.

the dude looking at Simon up and down before looking back at his money.

"Uh, sir I just closed the store," He spoke in a gruff voice. "I don't know what to tell ya bub. just visit tomorrow."

He said, walking past a blankly staring Simon, walking back to Marceline with the saddest walk known to man.

"He uh, sorry. The guy said come back tomorrow, Marcy." Simon looks down somberly, not aware of Marceline's expression.

She floated past him.

"Uh, Marcy?" Simon immediately turned, seeing Marceline floating to the dude, Simon just watching in horror.

Marceline stands in front of the puggy dude, with her arms crossed and not letting him pass.

From Simon's pov, it looked like the dude was trying to explain to Marcy about store policy, before she whipped out a scary face, the puggy dude shrieking like a baby without their bottle.

She grabbed him by the shoulders firmly, Simon overhearing something about, 'Imma suck your soul like a sucka, if you don't let us shop at your store, ding dong!' or something, Simon wincing at everything Marcy was saying.

This wasn't the Marcy he raised.

The puggy dude ran back inside the store, Marceline looking at him expectingly with her hands on her hips as the store lit up, alongside the decent sign.

"HEY, SIMON! I'VE GOT THE DORK TO OPEN THE STORE!" She screamed excitedly, Simon nervously waving back as he walked towards it.

'THE STORE. 2:01 AM'

Simon was trying to search for stuff to being on this 'trip'.

He already beelined to the maps of Ooo section, got a sunhat for Marceline just in case for sunrise, and a couple of energy coffee drinks to share.

"Does Marcy get tried now?" He pondered.

"Hey, Marceline? Do you still get tired as a vampire now?" He asked, Marceline a couple isles down, was holding a big pack of skittles, debating on eating them all or plucking out only the red ones.

"Um, yeah Simon. I do get tired."

"You want some coffee then?" Simon chirped back.

"Yeah, sure." Marceline yelled back.

Simon scanned the candy section, in search for any red candy for Marcy to eat.

"Hmmm lets see. Red airheads, red m&m's, red Twizzlers- huh? what's this?"

Black licorice.

It was sitting next to the Twizzlers ominously, Simon looking curiously at the candy.

Though he felt this weird, unnerving feeling around it.

"Huh, I never really tried black liroc-PAAAP!!!" Simon reached out with his blue hand, only to hear a really loud snapping sound.

Then, Simon instinctively began to cry and flinch at the constant snapping in his head, the sound being familiar to a whip.

He sat on the ground, in the middle of the store, clutching his hair, his breathing doubling in pace/intensity, the sound refusing to stop.

Why was this happening, why do I hate licorice all of the sudden?

 

Why does it feel so, familiar?

"Yo, you okay man?" The puggy man said, tapping Simon on the shoulder, concern and sadness in his eyes.

Simon blinked, immediately taking his hand and standing up. "Yeah, yeah. I don't know what came over me." Simon smiled nervously, the dude looking at the ice that built around him from... whatever his customer just did.

"Uhh okay man, sure." He said, walking back to the counter.

Simon looked back at the black licorice; confusion plastered on his face at his reaction.

"Huh, I guess I REALLY hate black licorice." He said, wiping his tears as he went back to shopping. All for Marceline.

Chapter 29: Marceline petrikov! part 3

Summary:

Marceline and Simon leave Up-ton, their search leading them to the candy kingdom, though Simon grows to slightly dislike the person Marcy has become.

'THE STORE. 2:15 AM'

Simon and Marceline had collected what they needed, heading up to the puggy dude at the counter, visibly getting nervous with Marceline approaching.

They handed him the goods, Puggy dude just ringing them up frantically.

The only sounds in the store were the beeping of items being scanned, the sweat dripping down the Puggy dude's face, and his frantic breathing.

"The Twizzlers, red m&m's, skittles, map, sunhat, and a 3 energy coffee drinks," The puggy dude listed, typing away at the cash register while sweating bullets, Marceline eyeing him to make sure he doesn't try to scam them.

"A-alright, that'll be 5.55$," he says as he holds his hand out, Simon already reaching in for his money when Marceline stopped him.

"Huh? It's okay Marcy I'll pay for i-," Marceline gently put Simon's hand down, reached into her black leather jacket and pulled out a 10.

"Oh, I-I didn't know you have a job, Marcy." Simon gasped, Marcy grinned, saying, "It's just merch money from my concerts, nothin special," She teased as she pays the puggy dude.

But as he's putting the money in the register, the puggy dude just has to ask, "A-are you two like, a couple? or something?"

Dead silence.

The store went dead of sound, to the point that you could hear a pen drop if you listened hard enough.

Simon and Marceline just looked at him blankly, Simon calmly taking the receipt and change without breaking eye contact, The puggy dude tensing at the awkward silence.

"W-what? You just simply give the vib-AAAAAAHHHH!" Screamed the dude, Marceline tackling Puggy dude to the ground behind the counter, eyes red and feral.

She smacked him repeatedly, Simon panicking as he watched the abuse unfold. "WOAH! WOAH, WOAH MARCELINE RELAX!" Simon sputtered as he conjured a child leash to pull a rageful Marceline out the store, the vampire cursing him out as Simon dragged her out.

'CANDY FOREST. 2:30 AM'

Marceline and Simon were deep into the candy forest, Simon carefully stepping over animal carcasses, while Marceline floated lazily behind, sucking on Twizzlers.

"Did you really have to go so overkill on the dude, Marcy?" Simon asked, stepping over a mostly eaten deer, Marceline just snacking on a Twizzler.

"Well he started it! the dude said we give off the vibe of a couple. A COUPLE Simon." Marceline insisted, Simon just looking down until...

SPLAT!!! "Uggh, Huntress wizard." Simon muttered bitterly, Marceline just poking the dead rat he stepped in. "Aww, don't be coy, old man. Its looking at you," Marceline tittered, playing with the dead rat to make it wave towards Simon.

"It's not the rat itself, Marcy," Simon retorted as he brushed his bloodied shoe into the grass. "It's the one who put it there."

"Who? Huntress wizard?" Marceline piped up, a little more interested now.

Simon was still focused on the map as he continued with, "Long story, the gist of it was she found some weird artifact and started acting like an animal and attacked me."

"Uh-huh." Marceline nodded cautiously.

"Luckily, I somehow managed to survive long enough to let Finn uh-." Simon paused, running a hand through his hair, "Glob, how do I say this?" Marceline floating closer with a curious smirk.

"Gooo onnnn, what did Finn do?" Marceline said in a sing-song voice, getting a reluctant smile out of the antiquarian.

"Why did I raise you again?" Simon asked rhetorically, stepping over another dead animal. Marceline just sprawled out mid-air with her hands behind her head as she replied with, "Because genius, I'm the one of the best things that ever happened in your long life."

"Heh, well..." Simon trailed off, trying to find the words. "Huntress wizard saw Finn, And blushed." "Uh-huh," Marcy butted in, Simon continuing.

"Then they, uh well... Remember when we were sleeping in an abandoned hotel, and I told you about the birds and the bees as a bedtime stor-."

Marceline immediately put her hand over Simon's mouth, looking at him like he just brought up trauma from WW2.

"Don't. remind me." Marceline said coldly, Simon nodding along.

She removed her hand from Simon's blue face, going on to say, "So, you're saying they fucked?"

"In the woods. In front of me. And with no consideration." Simon said in the bluntness way possible.

"So, changing the subject, you know a guy in the candy kingdom who can get my name changed?" Marceline mumbled with Twizzlers in her mouth, Simon walking ahead of Marceline with the map pressed against his glasses.

"More like someone who can summon another guy to get your name changed. Its convoluted I know, but well get there," Simon says as he turns back to Marceline, the vampire just snatched the map to look at the destination.

"Hmm, well however we need to visit, I can probably scare them into changing my name." Marceline said sinisterly as her face contorted slightly.

Though Simon just winced at it.

Not out of fear.

Out of Fatherly concern for who Marcy was now.

'CANDY KINGDOM GATE. 2:35 AM'

They approached the pretzel gate, Simon looking through the bars for any banana guards on duty, only to find them all asleep.

"Great. How about you we come back at morning, eh Marceline." No Marceline responded, Simon looking around for her, only to find a trail of her black hair going over the wall.

"MARCELINE!" Simon whispered harshly as he flew after her.

The Vampire queen allowed her feet to hit the floor on the other side of the gate, scanning the area for... whoever Simon needed to visit.

Until she heard.

"Marcy!" Simon whispered harshly behind her, Marceline just turning around to find a very anxious Simon flapping in the air.

"Yo, you chilling, Ice dad?" Simon just stared at her blankly. "Eh, whateves. So, who's this guy we gotta find." She said pulling out another Twizzler, Simon just dumbfounded.

"Y-you just broke in the candy kingdom, Marcy!" Simon pressed, Marceline scoffed, still not taking this seriously. "Yeah, Peebles isn't gonna mind Simon. As long as I don't break anything, will be okay."

Simon stopped for a minute and really looked at Marceline as she floated away, getting all the scraps of courage to ask, "Wha-. What happened to you, Marcy?" Marceline turning to Simon's fearful expression, being taken aback a little. "What do you mean? Nothing Simon, I just grew up."

Simon looked down, glasses covered in shadow to block Simon's expression as he continued.

"The Marcy I knew never threaten people into submission." Simon said coldly, Marceline freezing up.

"The Marcy I knew never wreck someone's store over a miss understanding."

"Okay, the guy deserved it after calling us a 'couple'."

"Thats not the point Marcy!" Simon's tone raised, not out of anger. But out of sorrow, his eyes looking watery.

"You threaten, you curse people out, you wreck people's property when you get mad. Look, I know your immortal, but do you honestly think these are good values to have?" Simon pleaded, his eyes watering, Marceline just looking to the ground, her grey fists shaking.

"So. What you're saying. Is that your mad I'm not your 'Innocent little girl' anymore, huh!?" Marceline accused harshly, Simon looking confused.

"What?" He said softly.

'CANDY KINGDOM GATE LOOKOUT'

From the lookout out post, one of the Banana guards, dreaming about cheesecake and ice cream within a messy security room, jolted up from his chair someone yelling.

"WOAH WAI-WHAT!!" He screamed, pulling out binoculars to see Marcy and Simon hashing it out. Well mostly Marcy.

"Glob, Glob, Glob, what do I do!?" The banana guard yelped, dropping the binoculars as he looking around the messy room of ice cream bowls and plates, eyeing a sticky note that read, "if anyone infiltrates the kingdom while I'm gone tonight, arrest them immediately! 💗PB."

"Oh okay, you're not fired Banana number 34." He gasped to himself as he reached for his walkie talkie.

'CANDY KINGDOM HOUSES'

"Your mad that I'm not the sweet innocent little girl back when the world was shit, huh!!" Marceline pressed, Simon backing away.

"Marcy no! Thats-I'm not saying, just maybe you could tone it down a little?" Simon smiled weakly as Marceline grew closer, Simon backing up more.

"Tone it down?" Marceline asked, Simon sweating icicles as he whispered, "Oh no."

"TONE IT DOWN!?" Marceline's voice growing, forgetting to whisper.

"Simon, we came here to share some laughs, have a good time, and getting my last name changed."

"Marcy..."

"Not so you can cry with the waterworks that I was better when I was weak, and powerless to everything while you were busy getting addicted to that crown!"

Marceline immediately stopped and put a hand over her mouth, regret running through her like poison.

Simon let his tears fall freely, not a single one containing anger or malice.

But hurt and regret, somehow still not used to the feeling.

"S-simon, I'm sorry." Marceline said quickly, floating over to comfort him, though Simon just walked pass her.

"It's alright Marceline. Let's just get your name fixed," Simon muttered, walking in spite all the pain in the world weighing in his heart, ice materializing with each footstep.

"Simon wai-PAAAP!" Marceline was stopped by a spear landing in front of her, Simon whipping around to find multiple banana guards.

"Oh breadballs." Simon whispered as he stood nervously next to Marceline, worry plastered on his face.

"Hey uh Marcy? Maybe we should just do this another time?" Simon reasoned, Marceline not wanting to look directly at him.

"Hold up Simon. Maybe they'll back off if I tell them I'm with Bonnie."

Banana guard number 34 stepped from the group, looking unsure and a little anxious at what they were about to declare.

"Hey uh- Marceline, I don't know how to tell you this, but Bubblegum kinda wants anyone intruding to be imprisoned."

Marceline scoffed, crossing her arms and looked away slyly saying, "I'm sure Bonnie ruled me out."

The Banana guard looked at the sticky note again, no mention of "Ruling Marceline out." and looking back up at a slightly worried Marceline.

"Wait, wait. You're kidding righ-PAAP!" another spear was thrown at Marceline from the crowd of Banana guards, the vampire dodging swiftly.

"TAKE THEM INTO THE DUNGEON!" One banana guard shouted, all of them raising their spears to capture a scared Simon and a annoyed Marceline.

 

'SIMON'S CABIN. 2:49 AM'

A cloaked figure moved swiftly through the forest floor, past any carcasses that may give away the invisibility.

They jumped over tree branches, skipped boulders, and hopped over rivers to a certain destination.

They would eventually arrive at a wooden gate, the figure looking past it to see a small cabin. Simon's cabin.

Without wasting any time, they jumped over the wooden fence and tiptoed to the structure, pulling out a small, handheld device to scan for an opening.

The figure's eyes scanned its surroundings for anything, possible visitors (though unlikely at this night.), possibly Simon coming back home, or anything that might disrupt her plan.

BEEP! BEEP! Came the device, pinpointing an unlocked window in the backyard, the figure solid snaking the wall of the cabin to get there.

The figure entered the house, pulling out a flashlight and searching the premises for something in particular. The Beast Eye.

After carefully searching the kitchen, bedroom, guest room and bathroom, they could only come to the conclusion Simon must've hidden it in a vault somewhere.

Until the figure conveniently looked to the right within Simon's living room, The eye on a shelf.

The figure approached the glowing eye, The yellow orb encapsuled in a giant ice cube, its black slit being a mesmerizing sight.

The figure pulled out a book, stolen from wizard city was a book about The Beast Eye, flipping the pages to a certain chapter.

Chapter 12. The usage of The Beast Eye.

Once the eye has bonded to an individual, another person may use the eye to manually awaken the eye's properties within that bonded individual.

"Perfect." The figure whispered, picking up the cube containing the orb as they headed outside.

But not before saying,"Es tut mir leid, Simon. Es ist zu Ihrem Besten."

And with that, the figure walked out the door and closed it behind her, already moving to her next target.

Huntress wizard.

Notes:

Guys, I'm so sorry for the multiple delays. Hopefully this will hold you all over until I have the time to pump out more chapters. Just more personal family business.

Chapter 30: Marceline petrikov! part 4

Summary:

Simon and Marceline reconcile with each other after fighting some bananas. That and they finally find the guy to go to about the name change

'THE CANDY KINGDOM. 2:55 AM'

 

The night was cold as always, along with the breeze, both of which were a chilling reminder of the situation.

 

The banana guards were closing in.

There were a horde of them, forming a circle around the ice wizard and Vampire Queen. Marceline forgotten how many Pb had.

 

Their spears were raised, determination and confusion being the most common expressions on their yellow faces, all their spears pointed towards Marceline and Simon.

"Crap, Bonnie," Marceline muttered, already feeling the familiar tingle of her vampiric transformation powers underneath her skin.

Marceline was left with two choices. Sweep the crap out of these losers or flee.

And Marceline, the vampire queen, the thrill seeker, swerved to the first option.

Banana guard number 34 gazed at Marceline, grip tightening on the spear as he barked, "NON LEATHAL, GUYS! ATTAC-" "But she's immortal, Banana guard number 34." Came Banana guard number 23, number 34 shooting him a dirty look, shouting, "I KNOW GOOFUS! GET HER!"

And like that, the fight had begun.

"THE HORDE. 3:02 AM"

Marceline ran-, No flew towards the first Banana guard with his spear, her now werewolf looking arm about to counter the spear blade when-. BAMM!!!

A brick wall made of Ice sprung out the ground, Banana guards banging on the structure as Marceline whipping her head up. She found Simon in the air, flapping closer to her with a determined expression.

"Marcy, please. We-we can do this Tomorow, let's not make this worse than it already i-." Simon paused, blinking slightly to see Marceline, speeding around punching and slashing Banana guards upside their heads.

"MARCY!" Simon yelled out as he reached out a hand, a little frustrated now as he flew after Marceline, the vampire queen quickly disarming and beating up any Guard that even looked at her funny.

Simon fluttered around her like a persistent fly, freezing any spears thrown her way that she didn't perceive while trying to talk her down.

"Marceline please! I understand, believe me I do, that you care and-ZAPPP!!" Came another spear that Simon quickly froze. "And I'm sorry if I came off as preferring you when you were younger, but this is too much Marcy! Please!" Simon pleaded sincerely with a pained expression, Marceline still going at it, punching and clawing.

When suddenly.

PFFFF! Came a gust of sleeping gas from above, knocking out both Marceline and Simon as they fell to the ground, but not without taking a couple of banana guards with it.

"Haha, yeah!" Banana guard number 23 burst, holding up a remote and giving a victorious fist pumping, Banana guard number 34 suddenly smacking him on the back.

"Ahh! Dude, what the junk, 34?" 23 whimpered, 34 glaring at him furiously. "You were supposed to knock out the intruders with the gumball guardian, not our own men!" He ranted, the gumball guardian crouching above the guards with a blank expression, the other banana guards looking away awkwardly.

"Ugggh, never mind, Gumball guardian! thank you for your service. Return to your post." Banana guard 34 announced, the gumball guardian nodding as it stood up, and being careful not to step on anyone as it returned to the gate.

The banana guards already scooped up Simon and Marceline's sleeping forms, marching towards the Candy dungeon.

 

'THE CANDY DUNEGON. 3:15 AM'

Everything felt exhausted at first. His arms and legs ached, his vision was blurred, his chest and stomach felt slightly numb, his head aching slightly, not unbearable, but not pleasant.

Simon's eyes slowly opened groggily, seeing his glasses mere inches from his head. As his consciousness slowly came back, his eyes widening slightly as he sluggishly grabbed a... broken candy cane? "Eww." he uttered as he reaches for his glasses, sitting up slightly and putting them on.

"Ugggh, what happened?" He moaned, putting a blue hand to his head. He looked around the room, seeing they were in a familiar jail cell, a familiar Oculus of rehabilitation looking at him from above, more than 2 bars kept him from escaping this time.

"Sup, Ice king. I see the rehabilitation worked." The oculus greeted, Simon just ignoring him.

But then, Simon turned to see his prison mate.

Marceline, the vampire queen.

Curled up in the corner, looking like a depressed goth kid, after being called cringe by the cool kids for the 14th time.

Her black hair curled around her like a cloak, her head buried in her knees, tear stains visible on her pants.

Simon's expression immediately sorrowed, walking over to sit with his daughter.

He wrapped an arm around the weeping Marceline, pulling closer to console his daughter.

"Shhhhhh, It's okay, Marcy. It's okay." The antiquarian whispered, now hugging Marceline with genuine love despite what she did.

Marceline stiffened.

She pulled back, floating away from Simon as she turned to the bars, wrapping a hand on her shoulder.

"Why?" Came from her mouth, broken and confused. Simon matched her confusion asking back, "Why what?"

"W-why do you tolerate me?" She clarified, Simon finding the words. "I-I never tolerated you, Marcy. I love yo-. " "WHY!?" Marceline interrupted, turning back swiftly with tears running down her face.

Marceline put her hands on her forehead, remorse hitting her like a truck as she continued to spiral.

"Why, I-I just gotten you in jail, man! Over my stubborn, dumbass wanting my nam-." "Hey, hey, hey. You're NOT a dumbass, Marceline." Simon said sternly with love as he stood, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"You just wanted to get your last name changed to show love Marcy. that makes you kind, not stupid." Marceline just floated back slightly and looked down, like she didn't deserve to be corrected.

"I'm sorry for what I said back there. About me assuming you liked me better when I was younger and stuff." Marceline muttered, tears still dropping.

"Marcy, I get i-." Marceline put a firm hand on Simon's shoulder, silencing him immediately like an alarm clock. "Stop saying that." Marceline said firmly.

"Whatta mean?" Simon asked.

"Stop saying 'you get it', Simon! I screwed up, I-I wrecked a dude's place over a misunderstanding, I threatened him into opening his stor-." "Marcy, pleas-"

"NO! Let me finish." Marcy yelled, raising a hand, Simon shutting the hell up. "And worst of all? I dragged you out here like a ballon when you weren't comfortable, and when you just wanted to help me, I beat you over the head with a situation you and I both know you couldn't control! Glob, I was so fucking reckless." Marceline finally broke, looking back down at the floor, Simon trying to find the words to comfort her.

"Just say I messed up, Simon." Marceline uttered, Simon's face softening. "Just say the truth. That I was being a self-absorbed idiot, and didn't consider your say. Just say that."

Simon stood there for a long moment, unsure if he wanted to be honest. He looked back at Marceline, face looking at the floor, looking defeated and exhausted with her own bullshit.

So, he decided to give Marcy the truth. For once, he wasn't going to sugar-coat.

He took a deep breath, and began with, "You were selfish, Marceline." He started, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

"I'd tried to tell you to stop, tried to ask you if we could do it tomorrow, but you didn't listen." Simon said bluntly, not yelling or screaming. Just constructive criticism. Simon turned, sitting on one of the bunk beds of the cell, hands clasped in front of him, Marceline just looking up slightly.

"Can I ask you something, Marceline?" Simon spoke, Marceline looking at him fully now, tear marks still visible.

"Why do you act the way you do?" Simon said as he scooted over, inviting his vampire daughter to sit with him as she floated over.

She pulled her knees to her chest when she sat, holding them tightly to ground herself. "I- I guess my mind is so tired of being left in the dust to the point I snap under any criticism. My mom, You, even though I know it wasn't your choice, My bio dad. The world left me to rot so, so many times, that I thought the best thing to do was to be ugly back." Marceline lamented, looking at the bars that held her and Simon.

"I guess old habits die hard, huh?" She joked slightly as she looked towards Simon with a small smile, her dad matching her sharp-toothed grin with his own.

Then, Marceline pulled him into a hug, and a tight one at that. "I'm sorry, Simon. Really. We can just, go home when Bonnie comes back, if that's what you're feeling." Marceline whispered, Simon pulling back to shake his head.

"No. We came all this way to get your name changed, and I oughta be damned if I back down now," Simon spat with conviction, Marceline just ruffling Simon's hair with a slight giggle.

"Hey, stop Marcy! I need my hair to fly!" Simon spouted, Marceline pulling back as she wiped a tear stain.

"Were you always this goofy when you acted tough, Ice dad?" She quipped; Simon couldn't help laughing slightly.

"Yeah, I guess I was, huh?" Simon concluded, sighing after getting that tension off his chest.

And then, all of the sudden both Marcy and Simon heard someone from within the cell sobbing, rain drops coming from inside the cell.

"Wait, what the?" Marceline said, turning to Simon who looked at her blankly.

Then they both looked up to find the Oculus crying its eye out.

"Dude, privacy! trying to bond with my adopted dad here." Marceline sassed, looking sternly at the eye.

"I apologize, it's just... I-I NEVER SEEN PRISON MATES BOND LIKE THIS BEFORE!!!" The eye cried, wailing like a three-year-old.

"Well, what do the prison mates usually do in here?" Simon asked curiously, the eye looking almost remorseful.

"Oh, they m-mostly, pee, kill, and occasionally rape each other in here."

Simon and Marcy grew silent.

"Yeah, that candy cane you picked up, Ice king? Someone used that as a sex toy one time." The Oculus informed bleakly, shuddering at the memory, Marcy just staring at him and Simon looking at his hand, like it was the most disgusting thing on planet earth.

"What? I've seen some dark things in these cells, man."

Simon walked over to the toilet to vomit intensely, Marceline just floated closer to the bars, scanning the place for any indication of their release, and to focus on anything but what was described.

She saw the bag of supplies and snacks on the shelf of penitence, a table, and other cells. But no other banana guards.

"Crap! I can't find any banana guards I can bribe to get us out of here, Simon." Marceline complained, Simon just thinking after getting his head out of the toilet.

"Maybe there's a way we could get out without, breaking any laws eh, Marceline?" Simon suggested, Marceline looking at him thoughtfully. "Go on."

Simon felt around his jackie, grazing his hand around the left side of it, feeling something in the pockets. "Good! glad they didn't take this!" Simon yelped excitedly, reaching into his coat pocket as Marceline floated closer.

"What you got, old man?" Marceline asked as Simon pulled out a small notebook that read, And I quote. 'Simon's Icy freezcoveries! Or something.'

Marceline couldn't contain the urge to make fun of Simon, immediately gasping and saying,"Nooooo wayyyyy! You have a friggin Spell book?! PFFFFFHAHAHAHA!!!" Marceline cackled, Simon blushing intensely in shame, snapping back with, "It's not a spellbook! I use it to keep track of all the things I can do with my Ice magi-.HEY!!" Simon yelped, Marceline grabbing the notebook and flipping through the pages, like she stole the quiet kid's diary.

"Lets see what 'wizard junk' you got in here, Simon." Marceline said casually, effortlessly weaving and dodging Simon's attempts to claim his book, the two running circles in the cell, The oculus watching the entertainment.

"Let's see, Ice lightning, Ice minions, Igloo, Snow roll of doom!?" Marceline said surprisingly, Simon being quick to defend with, "I was sleepy when I made that name!"

"Ohhhh, what's this? Mind transfer?" Marceline stopped at the page, Simon finally snatching the book, sitting on the floor. "Thats what's going to get us out of here." Simon scolded, looking at the page.

"I'll transfer my mind to an ice construct to inform the guards to free us." Simon stated, Marceline giving a grin.

"Could I make a suggestion?" Marceline teased as she floated to sit with Simon, whispering in his ear.

"Uhh, sure, sure. That might be more convincing." Simon noted, standing up and walking to the bars.

He reached both of his hands through, charging up his ice magic and breathing, trying to focus.

Ice lightning spouted out of his hands, forming her legs, hips, long pink hair that was blue due to the ice, Tiara and... whip? And with nothing but a bra and undies on.

"There we go! Princess bubblegu-WAPPPP!!!" Came the icy replica of Bubblegum, whipping its whip at the bars, aiming for Simon as he fell back, Marceline floating away from the creature.

"Yo, dude! What's wrong with your Ice minion?" Marceline asked as the replica continued whipping. Simon picked himself up, raising a hand and willing the construct into a normal Princess bubblegum, fully clothed and without the whip or consciousness.

Marceline looked at Simon, his expression shifting from worry to... silly?

"Huh, welp, must've been a weird mis fire, Marceline!" Simon chuckled, ignoring what happened and sitting down, closing his eyes to focus on transferring his mind.

Though Marceline looked at the icy bubblegum replica, worry and wonder running through her head.

'CANDY KINGDOM HALLS. 3:59 AM."

The halls were filled with sleeping banana guards, sleeping on duty due to it being almost 4 in the morning until Bubblegum walked down the halls.

Guard 23 heard the footsteps coming, immediately snapping from sleepy to alert, gripping his spear tightly as Bubblegum came to greet him.

But some things were off.

She was made of this blue, seemingly cold material, everything from her clothes to her tiara was blue and cold.

But she had a warm expression on her face, as Bubblegum always showed compassion to her subjects.

"Hey, 23?" She whispered to the cowardly banana.

"Yes, my princess?" He chirped back nervously, Ice Pb crouching down and placing a hand on the banana guard's face.

"It seems you all are exhausted. How about you and your section of guards go on break, okay? Are there any intruders you've found?" She asked kindly, the banana guard stiffening.

"Yeah, yeah. Marceline and Simon are in their cell, your highness." 23 spouted nervously, Ice Bubblegum just stood up gracefully, helping up the guard.

"Release them, alright? I'm sure they did nothing wrong." The Ice Pb said as it walked away, 23 pulling out his keys and running swiftly to the dungeon.

'THE CANDY DUNGEON. 4:10 AM"

The banana guard ran down to the lowest floor, reaching Marceline and Simon's cell and unlocking it swiftly, both of their heads snapping to the door opening.

"Oh, that actually worked, huh" Simon whispered under his breath, 23 looking at Simon suspiciously. "I mean, Did Bubblegum release us?" Simon changed his tune, 23 nodding slightly.

"Yeah, you two can go, just don't ever break in the candy kingdom again, you hear!?" 23 scolded, shaking his fist at Marceline and Simon, though neither of them took it seriously.

"S-sorry. I never really knew how to be intimidating." The banana guard apologized, Marceline and Simon walking past him.

"Yyyyeah, were just gonna get out of your hair, later." Marceline quipped, grabbing the bag of supplies and headed up the stairs.

'CANDY KINGDOM HALLS. 4:12 AM.'

"So, we gotta find Peppermint butler?" Marceline questioned, floating next to Simon as they walked through the halls.

"Yeah, He knows how to get to some demon in the nightoshpere to change your last name." Simon retorted, Marceline grimacing slightly.

"Ugggh, that place." Marceline groaned, angrily snacking down another Twizzler from the bag.

The two eventually made it to Peppermint butler's room, Simon opening the door slightly and looking into the dark room, the light peeking from outside revealing Pepbut in bed with a dark magic book opened and in his face.

"You see him in there?" Marcy whispered, Simon nodding in a yes as he opened the door gently.

Simon walked into the room with Marceline floating behind, both of them careful not to make a sound as Simon approached the bed.

They both stared at Peppermint butler's sleeping form, muttering dark incantations in his sleep, as if it was second nature for him.

Marceline turned to Simon, shifting her face into a more monstrous look, pointing at Pepbut for permission to scare him awake.

Simon frowned, shaking his head no and attempting to nudge Peppermint butler to wake him up.

Only for him to catch his blue hand.

His eyes opened, pulling back the book slowly like he wasn't even asleep to begin with. he scanned Marcy and Simon awkwardly standing over him, his mouth curving into a slight smirk.

"Neat dark magic incantation, hmm? It's called 'between life and death'. Allows me to sleep and stay conciseness at the same time." Peppermint explained, getting out the bed, snapping his fingers and lighting the candles to reveal his room.

The walls were painted a dark pink, A chest of skulls he's collected from graveyards that lay in a corner, shelves of books on the studies of dark magic behind his bed, a black Chandelier with death runes engraved into it, a giant portrait of course, Hunson abadeer and him taking a photo after golf on his left, both of them wearing huge grins.

Simon nearly peed his pants at the fuckin death cult looking room, Marceline just yawned and Pepbut scurrying around like it was an average Tuesday night.

"So, what can I help you two with?" He asked, turning to face them, Simon snapping out of his shock and told him, "We need you to send us to the name collector demon, peps."

Peppermint butler gave a confused look, raising an eyebrow. "The demon collects and records names, Simon. There isn't much reason to visit."

"Oh, we want him to erase 'abadeer' out of my last name and replace it with petrikov, no biggie." Marceline clarified, Peppermint butler going from slightly confused to shocked out of his mind as he stepped towards the floating lady.

"Marceline, how I appreciate your bravery and fearlessness. But I'm simply dumbfounded in why you'd want to fight demons as strong as your dad! You don't see me roughhousing with those ruffians down there!"

"Thats because you're in love with my dad." Marceline sung in a sing-song voice.

"THATS NOT THE POINT!" Peps insisted, waving his arms around like noodles like an embarrassed teenager.

"But if both of you are determined to visit him, I will assist." He said as he walked to his bed, pulling out another chest underneath." Though be warned!" His voice boomed, Simon and a slightly amused Marceline turned to him.

"He's a very powerful demon like I say, I cannot guarantee your success in changing his name, and you likely to have to steal his magic list and pencil to perform the name change." He detailed.

"What if there's no eraser?" Marceline asked goofily.

"There's one on his pencil."

"So, why do you say not to visit if you know that? You'd have to had gone there to notice." Marceline teased, Pep-but getting noticeably angry at Marceline's jabs.

But immediately breathed in and out, and calmed down.

He looked towards Simon, saying," Though I require a favor for my services, Simon." Simon growing worried as he sheepishly asked, "S-sure thing peppermint. What do you need?"

Simon's mind rushed with ideas.

Peppermint butler wanting his soul.

Peppermint butler wanting his organs.

PEPPERMINT BUTLER WANTING HIS CHEERS COLLEC-.

"I'd like to study you." He said simply, Simon's face going blank.

"Um, Excus-a what now?" Simon questioned, pulling down his glasses slightly.

"Your a, for lack of a better term, a unique individual, Simon. Your magic is tied to the cursed crown, yet you experience no noticeable madness or sadness. I'd like to study it if you don't mind."

Simon pondered the idea for seconds, conflicted as usual.

Until he looked to Marceline, her face hoping he say yes, remembering all they had to go through to get here.

And then...

"I'll do it." Simon spoke, raising his hand as ice magic sparked around it.

Peppermint butler's eyes were mesmerized by the antiquarian's lack of a crown, Marceline watching the whole thing going down, her playful grin dimming.

Pep-but's hand glowed with dark magic, reaching to grab Simon's.

And they shook.

Their respective magics interacting with each other, blue and black lightning dancing across the arms of the two wizards.

And then it stopped.

"It's a deal, Simon petrikov." Peppermint butler said smoothly, grabbing a scroll out of the chest from under his bed, heading to the door.

"Now, come along you two. We gotta a demon to send you to." Pep-but announced, his small round form scurrying out the door, leaving Marceline and Simon alone.

The vampire queen, floated in front of Simon, reading his determined face and frowning a bit.

"You know you didn't have to do that, Simon." She said, Simon just smiling.

"Yeah, I really don't feel like going to a magic check-up." Simon admitted. "But if it means helping you and not having to get in trouble while doing it. I'll do it." Simon affirmed.

Marceline just raised an eyebrow. "Simon we've just agreed to robbing a demon to get my name changed. Trust me, were getting into some deep shit."

"Okay, okay, to be fair were going to put the list and paper back afterwards." Simon hastily defended, Marceline just laughing to herself.

"So, I guess you can say the whole "breaking the rules bit" only applies in this dimension, huh?" Marceline prodded, Simon pausing for a minute, and then laughing at the stupidity of it.

"Yeah, I guess just keep your good morals to people in THIS dimension. And before you say it, alternate universes count too." Simon pointed out swiftly, both of them heading to the door.

But not before turning to each other once again.

"So, you up for it, Vampire daughter?" Simon snarked, raising a fist bump.

Marceline shed a single tear, pulling the strings to the backpack of supplies and raising her gray fist as well.

"I'm in. Dad." She whispered.

The two raised their fists, and just as they were about to make another shock wave.

"HEY!!!" Came peppermint butler busting out the door like the Kool-Aid man.

"THE RITUAL ISN'T GOING TO DO ITSELF, NOR DOES IT HAVE THE TIME FOR YOUR CRINGE CLIEHE MOMENT. Y'KNOW!" he Shouted, slamming the door behind him as Simon and Marceline laughed at Pep-buts absurd comment.

"For the record, You're the cringe one, Simon." Marceline said, as Simon held the door for her, the antiquarian just responding with, "Were both cringe, darling."
He said as they both walked out the door.

Notes:

I'll try to have the next chapter out by either Wednesday or Thursday. SEE YA!!

Chapter 31: Marceline petrikov! part 5 (Finale)

Summary:

Simon and Marceline fight the name collector demon, all in the name of changing Marceline's last name. This is it, ladies and germs! NO MORE WAITING, NO MORE CLICKBAITING. This is it, by the end of this chapter, Marceline abadeer will be no more. and Marceline petrikov will be what remains. Enjoy!

'CANDY CASTLE ENTRANCE. 4:30 AM'

The time has finally come.

The scroll that Pep-but gotten from earlier lay on the ground, held down by the bag of supplies, glancing back at the scroll for reference.

Peppermint butler was drawing this complex circle on the ground in red chalk, a very clear divergence from the simple summoning circle you'd make to summon Hunson abadeer.

Simon and Marceline stood idly by, the mischievous vampire snacking and slurping on one of the last Twizzlers.

And Simon? Was mainly concerned about the whole ordeal, arms crossed, skepticism plastered on his face.

"Here." Pep-but says, handing both Marceline and Simon these orange glowsticks.

"What are these?" Simon asked, inspecting the stick, Marceline already attempting to suck the color out of it.

"They're your way back home," He states as he snatched the stick out of Marceline's hand.

"Hey!!" Marceline yelped.

"They work like normal glow sticks, bend them and they begin to glow. And also opens a portal back to this dimension." Peppermint butler gestures, looking over sternly to Marceline, with her arms crossed.

"And no, they are not for sucking! For once, their color is important to the power of the sticks!" Peppermint scolded, Marceline just rolling her eyes as she reluctantly took the stick again, and reluctantly not sucking the color out of.

"Aw, don't look like that, we can always get more Twizzlers after this." Simon consoled, gently putting a hand on a disappointed Marceline.

But as Simon was comforting Marceline, the antiquarian hears...

"Hos duos sume. Hos duos tantum nomini collectori." Peppermint chants eerily, waving his hands around Simon as dark magic trickles around him.

"AHH! What the hell, Peppermint!" Simon yelped, pulling back his body as Marcy just chuckled slightly, and Peppermint butler looked disappointed.

"Relax, Simon. It's just a simple tracking spell for the portal." Peppermint butler informed, Simon looking unconvinced as he asked, "Tracking for what, exactly?"

"Oh, just so when I activate the portal, it sucks in you two daredevils in and not me." He says casually, Simon's concern just growing exponentially, Pepbut going to do Marceline next.

"Ohhhh, that tickles." Marceline jested.

"Glad we can agree on something." Peppermint butler says as steps over to the portal, back turned to Simon and Marceline. He held his hands out, muttering a dark incantation under his breath as the circle hummed with a red hue.

"Now, no one has to use the bathroom or anything stupid like that before I open?" Peppermint butler asked turning slightly, Marceline sticking up double thumbs up, Simon putting one hesitant thumb up.

"Good. Though I'd brace for impact if I were you." Pepbut mentioned, Simon's ears perking up and his face lighting up with shock.

"Wait, wait, what are we bracing for agai--FLASHHH!!!!!" Came a giant flash of light, gravity tugging on both Marceline and Simon as they were swiftly dragged into the portal.

Though the most notable thing wasn't a dimension opening up, or the huge flash.

It was Simon screaming like an actual goat as they were pulled in.

'THE NIGHTOSHPERE. 4:40 AM'

They both landed in the realm, Marceline landing swiftly on her feet before resuming her floating.

And Simon?

Well, let's just say for all of his weird travels, nothing could prepare him for this.

"WOAH! I think that the coolest way I've ever visited the nightoshpere. huh, Simon?" Marceline chatted, till her eyes met Simon's cowering body.

"Yo, Simon. We're here." Marceline said as she gently tapped Simon on the shoulder, Simon slowly removing his hands to gaze at his new surroundings.

The place was rocky. Like really rocky.

Simon gazed at where they were. The skies were dark and gloomy. heaps of dancing fire were below him from the mountain he and Marcy stood, alongside odd pyramid looking structures in the distance, demons in line to... something. Or someone.

Simon just stared into the distance, eye twitching slightly, the smell of brimstone and chaos running past his nose.

"Marceline. Are we really going to hell to get your name changed?" Simon asked, his voice bleaker than ever, Marceline giving a reassuring smile and a pat on the head.

"Yeah, yeah, we do. you'll be fine, Simon." Marceline jested, looking over the familiar horizon.

"Will I though?" Simon whispered to himself.

"Now, where is that pesky transportation demo- OH, SIMON LOOK!" Marceline shouted like she found the ice cream truck.

Simon stopped his existential dread for now, only to look up at the. The, th- WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN THAT!?

From what Simon could describe, Marceline was floating to this half body organ exposed, one eyed, 50 feet lanky limbed looking demon! Simon could feel the color draining out of his blue skin as he covered his mouth, puking at the exposed organs.

He wiped his mouth, freezing the vomit, panting frantically.

"But hey! 'I've seen worst' they said, 'I can take it' they said." Simon muttered frantically, putting his hands on his hip and talking to the ground, Marceline having a telepathic chat with the transportation.

"Yeah, could you take us to the name collector demon? Need to get my name changed." Marceline said through her thoughts.

"Yes, I may take you to him. though he is located in the far outskirts of this realm." Transportation demon informed, Marceline scoffing.

"Don't worry, dude. Were both immortal and have all the time in the world, will be fine." Marceline finished, turning to yell down to Simon, "Yo, get in! The trips gonna take a while!" Simon looking up at Marceline, reluctantly flapping his hair and into its-. Organs...EWW.

Simon sat tensely on the back of the togue, trying hard not to think about where he was, Marceline sitting closer to its teeth, playing games with the demon's jaws by poking her hand through and pulling back when the demon bites down.

 

'THE NIGHTOSPHERE. 5:10 AM'

The transportation demon was still gliding through the hellish realm, having to fart several times to keep momentum.

Marceline had ceased her toying with the creature's mouth, looking bored while picking her nose.

"Wow, you really weren't kidding about the ride, huh?" Marceline quipped, flicking a giant booger out into the abyss, looking back at Simon rocking back in fourth, like he wanted his mommy or something.

"So, I guess the nightoshpere isn't your type?" Marceline asked, a little jokey, but tinged with slight concern now.

"Yeah. Promise me we never have to come back here again. for anything." Simon said swiftly, holding out a hand to shake that Marceline quickly took.

Before her face dropped, pulling her hand away.

"Oh, Simon. I may have picked my nose with that finger." The minute she uttered that, Simon immediately pulled his hand back, dousing his infected hand with sanitizer, wetting his jackie as Marceline laughed wildly.

"Marcy, what the hell!" Simon snapped, Marceline still chuckling as she wiped a tear from her eye.

"Nothing, old man! Just wanted to cheer you up, y'know with the 'being in what is basically hell' thing." Marceline went on, Simon carefully allowing his legs to dangle off the transportation demons... togue.

Marceline sat next to Simon, looking across the mostly rocky and gloom horizon thoughtfully as she gathered her thoughts.

"Sooooo, what was that whole thing with Bubblegum whipping ya back there?" Marceline asked, turning away from Simon as she ran a hand through her hair.

Simon's face snapped up as he just... smiled.

"Hehe, ohh, that thing. Yeah, must've been some stupid fantasy I had when I was Ice king. Fricking ridiculous I know." Simon quipped, making Marceline slightly uncomfortable by his causal demeanor, like it was some embarrassing teenage memory or something.

"Rigggghtttt. Well, I guess it's just Bonnie's been acting really stressed lately. And not just 'I'm trying to run my kingdom' stressed." Marceline confirmed, Simon turning his head in shock, responding with a, "Really? What's wrong?"

Marceline plopped her back on the togue of the transportation demon, looking up defeated at the roof of its mouth.

"To be perfectly honest with you, Ice dad? I really don't know. Some days, I find her daydreaming about... something. Some nights, she wakes up from nightmares, claiming it was when you used to kidnap her." "I profusely apologize for that." Simon butted in, Marceline smirking slightly as she continued.

"And other days? I find her tinkering on some 'brain eraser' treatment, crossing my fingers it's to erase whatever anxiety she's going through." Marceline concluded, Simon's lightning brows furrowing with empathy.

"That sounds horrible, Marceline. Maybe after this, and you apologize for breaking into the candy kingdom." Simon said playfully, poking Marceline's head and making her giggle.

"Maybe I could fly over and apologize, I don't know." Simon consoled, looking down at the moving ground.

Marceline sat up, looking at her future legal dad as he pulled out his spellbo- I MEAN, notebook. Yeah.

Simon looked at the goofy ahh cover, chuckled at the 'freezcoveries' bit.

"You know something really stupid, Marceline?" Simon asked as he looked into the sky, tinged with something more personal, Marceline's ears perking up to listen.

"I know its dumb, especially since how much it ruined my life. But I sometimes wonder if I was always meant to be wizard." Simon pondered, Marceline actually thinking thoughtfully about what he just said.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess. You collect magical artifacts, you've traveled the multiverse," "Met Prismo, The lich, Golb." Simon butted in again.

"You're a friggin nerd and where glasses." Marceline joked, Simon looking mock offended.

"So, your saying every wizard where's glasses now?" Simon pointed out, Marceline just shrugging.

"I dunno. I never visited Wizard city." Marceline explained.

Simon placed a hand on Marcy's shoulder as he said, "If you ever go on tour again, and you throw a concert at Wizard city? Call me to get you in, okay?"

Marceline's eyes glistened, instinctively hugging Simon with a sincere smile, Simon hugging back.

"Why are you such a good dad?" Marceline whispered, Simon's mind pondering the question.

"I-I. I don't kno-CRASSSH!!!!" Came the transportation demon coming to a stop, Simon's body going flying out of its mouth and onto the rocky ground.

"Why does that keep happening?" Simon questioned the universe in a pained voice, Marceline floating towards him, offering a hand.

As Simon gotten up, brushing off his coat and pants, the transportation demon farted away to his next destination.

"THANKS FOR THE TRANSPORTATION, DUDE!!!" Marceline shouted, waving at the demon as it went to... glob knows who.

'NAME COLLECTOR TOWER. 5:46 AM'

The two were dropped off in the FAREST outskirts of the Nightosphere.

There were no buildings, structures, especially no other demons around.

There was only the gloomy sky, the vast rocky land with spikes coming out of the ground, and a looming black tower surrounded by a silverly looking gate.

Marceline and Simon turned around, seeing these massive gates that lie before them.

They had a metallic glisten to them, names of people in history engraved into the slivery gates.

"Frank Sinatra."

 

"George Washington."

 

"Martin Luther king Jr."

 

And yes, even, "Abraham Lincoln."

 

Simon approached the gate, his archeologist mind having an orgasm at the sight. he dragged his hand across its metal texture, mesmerized by the material and the names on the gate.

"Fascinating. This dude must have all the names of everyone in history, Marceline." Simon said, Marceline floating closer to take a look.

"Yeah, I've never been out THIS far into the nightoshpere." Marceline said as he morphed her arms into black tentacles, trying to emphasize how far.

Simon reached into the backpack on Marceline's back, pulling out two Coffee energy drinks, triple shot for a mission like this.

He gave one two Marceline as he held his, looking like he was about raise his drink to a toast.

"Okay, I'm going to keep it short. Are you ready to kick some demon-ass, Marceline?" Simon asked, voice filled with confidence as he held out his drink.

Marceline held her drink with a smile, sharp-toothed and wild.

"As long as it isn't mine? I ready as I'll ever be." Marceline snapped back.

They both chugged down theirs drinks respectfully, tossing the cans away at the same time.

"Alright, enough talking. Let's finally do this shit!" Marceline whooped, now energized as both her and Simon flying into the air and over the gate.

'THE GATE. 5: 50 AM.'

Simon and Marceline flew over the gate, landing at the same time to greet five red, chubby demons in sliver samurai armor.

one of them looked to Marceline and Simon, immediately alerting the others of intruders via demon language unintelligible to the duo's ears.

They raise their samurai swords, as Simon readied his ice magic.

Marceline instinctively reached behind her to grab her bass, only to feel nothing.

She no longer had her signature weapon, as she sucked her teeth in annoyance.

"Crap! I keep forgetting tha-"

ZZZZAAPP!!!

Marceline looked down at her hands.

And in them?

Was an ice replica of her bass axe guitar. She plucked a string nervously, the sound reverberating off the icy replacement for her signature weapon.

"I know it's never going to be the same as your old one." Simon admitted nervously, Marceline looking to him with awe.

And then amusement.

As the demon samurais charged in, Simon gestured to let Marcy have at, the vampire queen raising her hand and-.

WAAAMMMM!!!!!!!!!

came the first note, making a shockwave to knock the demons back, Marceline looking bewildered at the power of her new bass.

"Yo, can I keep this, Simon?" Marceline asked, holding the weapon up, Simon just putting his hands on his hips as he said, "I don't see why not."

But as they were talking, the samurai demons were getting up, all of them now jumping mid-air to attack the two.

Marceline played another note, blasting the samurais back once more, though they were getting on their feet quicker with each blast.

"Woah! These guys are fast!" Marceline quipped, keeping pace to the samurais attacking her, blasting each one back with an icy shockwave.

Simon flew up, generating ice magic at his fingertips as he starts snipping the samurais with Ice bolts.

BANNGGG!!!!

Came a bolt of ice magic, blowing back a samurai inches away from Marceline's back, Simon on the asses of these demons attempting to jump his daughter.

shockwave after shockwave, ice bolt after ice bolt, the demons stopped.

They all backflipped to guard the tower, panting and hurt as all of them assuming firm stances, holding out their swords to Marcy and Simon.

The lead demon shouts out some weird command.

POOF!!!!

They were all gone in a small burst of smoke, Marceline coughing slightly.

"Crap, it's one of those low--budget samurai flic- WAPPP!!!" Marceline in the middle of her quip, was struck back by a blade, anger filling her eyes as she turned around.

Until she was struck in the back with another sword slash, crying out as she turned to face the demon.

But he was gone.

Simon, frantic as ever, looked around for any demons to smite down.

"Glob, glob, glob. Where could they b-." Were the last words Simon gotten out, as he was knee jabbed by one teleporting right next to him, grabbed Simon by the arm and threw his body into the ground next to Marcy, causing dust and debris to rise.

"You got any ideas, Ice dad?" Marceline barked, still paying attention to her surroundings, receiving another slash that sent her back. And not by years.

"MARCY!!!" Simon shouted, the antiquarian turning around to receive a slash across his precious jackie, Simon creating an icy barrier to parry the next shot.

Marceline, on the other hand, looked around for the stupid demons, looking around rapidly for another attack, another slash.

And then, she took a deep whiff...

Marceline immediately snapped to her left, slashing the demon samurai back from her, the demon looking bewildered.

"Ha! Thats what you get for wearing the worst deodorant in the world, sucka!" Marceline quipped, jumping up for the finishing blow.

until it teleported away again.

"DAMMIT!" Marceline screamed, flames coming out of her eyes, another demon coming right next to knee jab her in the face.

Simon would turn swiftly to Marceline, creating an ice barrier to block the incoming attack, casting ice lightning to freeze the stupid thing to a wall.

"Thanks, Simon." Marceline said, Simon creating an ice dome around them in no time, protecting them from another karate kick.

They stood back-to-back, the dome already cracking from the outside, Simon straining to keep it up.

"So, I run it by again. You got any good ideas, Simon?!" Marceline pressed, growing on edge at the repeated assault on the dome, cracks forming.

"Yeah, don't worry Marcy! You notice how they can't teleport in here?!"

"Um, yeah? I'm not a wiz like you Simon, you need to be more specific!"

Simon concentrated on the barrier, getting out that, "It means there not actually teleporting. Just going invisible!"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh." Marceline smirked, an idea forming in her head.

"Just keep them distracted till I'm able to expose their whereabouts with snow!" Simon elaborated, concentrating on the dome as he dispelled it as an icy shockwave, multiple samurais sent flying.

"Alright, time to play the death song!" Marceline quipped again, cloaking herself in invisibility as she speeded over to each blown back samurai, whacking them upside the head with her axe, moving like a zig-zagging pinball from each demon.

They attempted to "teleport" again, only for Simon to hold his hands together, creating a small snowy vortex within his hands.

And then...

"WAZOWAHH!!!" Simon screeched, releasing the storm and getting it everywhere, including the samurai demons.

Marceline brushed snow off her back as she looked around, axe still bared, seeing as they attempted to cloak themselves, only for the snow on their bodies to move along with them.

"Hehe, Bingo." Marceline muttered, playing her bass once more as she sent shockwaves to each demon she could see, Simon acting fast and freezing them before they hit a wall, or were given any time to recover.

The threats were neutralized at last.

Marceline collapsed into the snow, her new bass guitar sitting right next to her as she started making a snow angel.

Simon walks over, looking down at his daughter playing in the snow, unable to resist smiling.

"Why couldn't you be like this? Like all the time?" Marceline asked sarcastically, looking up at her dad as he pulled her up by a hand.

"Madness, madness, and more madness." Simon responded as Marcy met him at eye level.

'THE TOWER. 5:53 AM"

The Name collector demon sat on his greasy fat ass at a desk, sitting in a dimly lit room, messy with papers and lists of names from countless kingdoms in Ooo.

He was writing down names for a bunch of newborn candy babies in the candy kingdom, pushing up his round black glasses on his lumpy face.

"Yes, yes, Dolittle. Jasper. Miekey? Hope I'm saying that right. All such lovely choices names for these newborns." His said to himself, his long plump body shifting slightly in his chair, tail wagging excitedly.

But then, all of the sudden, as most things happen.

BAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!

Came the door, the Name collector demon turning around swiftly, despite his body weight to two small figures at his door.

One floating in a leather black jacket, pants, and with confidence. The other? Looking thorn, tired, wearing a suit and red bowtie like it was barely holding on to his blue body.

"YO, N.C.D! WE NEED YOU TO CHANGE MY NAME!" Marceline shouted from below, not caring about the Demon's looming presence.

"Sorry, what are two... mortals doing in my study?" The demon asked suspiciously, eyeing them down as he turned his chair further.

"WE'RE BOTH IMMORTAL, YOU DINGUS! AND WERE HERE BECAUSE WE'VE BEEN UP AND DOWN SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE WHO CAN CHANGE MY LAST NAME!!" Marceline shouted through her hands.

"PREFERABLITY WITHOUT A FIGHT PLEASE, MR. NAME COLLECTOR DEMON." Simon added on, nervously pulling his suit collar.

The Name Collector demon looked puzzled as he scratched his fat stomach.

"Listen. First off. don't yell. Secondly, immortal or not I cannot change someone's name that they were born with. It's against my code as the Name collector."

He went on and on about his title, how Hunson Abadeer appointed him to this position when he had no purpose in the nightoshpere.

Though, and this might be a shocker to you all.

But neither Marceline nor Simon cared, giving the deadest pan looks at the demon.

Marceline slowly turned to Simon.

"Ice Dad?"

"Yes, vampire daughter?"

Marceline grew closer to Simon's ear to whisper, "I'll keep this fool occupied, you just get my name changed with his stupid pencil."

Simon just simply nodded as he looked up at the demon saying, "Hey, Name Collector Demon, I gotta joke for you."

The demon stopped his rambling, looking down at the antiquarian curiously.

"Oh, and what's that?"

"You know what haircut you should get next time you go to the barbershop?" Simon asked bluntly.

"Which one?"

PUNCHH!!!!!!! "THE FADE! FATASS!"

Came Marceline, already in her humungous bat form as he struck the demon in his jaw, making him bleed.

"Uh UH HEYY! YOU CANNOT DO THAT UNDER HUNSON ABADEER'S JURISDICTIO-SMACKKK!!!" Marceline struck with another fist, knocking him out of the chair, striking him into the floor, punching him back-to-back, over and over again.

Simon wasted no time.

As Marceline started dishing out dragon ball z combos on the pathetic demon, Simon flew past their giant forms, landing his shoes on the demon's scattered desk.

"Oh breadballs, this is going to take a while." Simon said, scrambling to find the list Marceline might be on, tossing away other irrelevant papers.

"Candy kingdom? No. Slime kingdom?! No, not that! Wait, here it is!" Simon held up a list, reading nightoshpere residents.

The name collector demon attempts to get away from Marceline's grasp, trying to dodge her punches, axe kicks, low sweeps to his chubby legs.

But he couldn't avoid it, no matter how much he tried.

Marceline decided to crank it up a notch, pinning the fatass to the ground and pressing her bat feet on his face.

"EEWWW, THAT STINKS!!!!!!!!" He squealed at the stench, Marceline just pressing harder.

"Um, yeah. I'm kinda counting on it!! COME ON SIMON!!" Marceline shouted towards Simon.

"I'M COMING, I'M COMING MARCELINE!!!!" Simon shouted back, pulling down the nightosphere list and finally finding...

Marceline Abadeer, just below Hunson abadeer.

"Yess!!" Simon yelped in victory, grabbing the pencil and hastily erased Abadeer, and writing what it should've been all along.

Petrikov.

"WAITTTT DON'T!!!!!!!" The demon shouted, turning his head slightly to see Simon freezing the eraser bit of the pencil, the tip shattering into a billion pieces.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He shouted dramatically, desperately pushing off Marceline which she allowed, as he rushed over to his damaged pencil.

Simon flew off the desk and to a normal Marceline, urgently searching in the bag for the glowsticks.

"COME ON, COME ON! WERE ALMOST THERE GOD DAMMIT!!" Simon swore, Marceline floating with ragged breaths as she turned, seeing the Demon looking furiously at the two.

"YOU VIOLATORS!!" He screamed furiously, almost getting his fatty hands on the two when.

FLASSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

An orange flash blinded the demon, as it transported Simon and Marceline petrikov home.

Notes:

And there! Finally finished! Now after the epilogue, will finally get into Minerva and her personal life!!

P.S. I picture The Name Collector Demon having the same voice the elemental had in the adventure time pilot.

Chapter 32: Marceline petrikov! (part 6 epilogue)

Summary:

Just a little ending and tease for the future. You're welcome!

'CANDY KINGDOM. 6:00 AM'

The sun was finally rising.

The sunlight grew across houses, the gates of the candy kingdom, everything.

The day was starting, candy citizens young and old were all waking up to the new day that lay before them.

But what they didn't know, was that two people native to this land would soon return.

'CANDY CASTLE ENTRANCE.'

FLASSSHHH!!!!!

The entrance of the castle had an orange glow reflected off its walls. At the center of it all, was a pillar of orange light containing two figures.

As the light dimmed, Marceline floated out panting.

Her long black hair was a mess, scratches on her pants and leather jacket that told stories of battle.

Especially with a new axe guitar made of ice on her back.

But she still smiling, a smile that reeked of excitement, and longing of the sweet, sweet rush of adrenaline.

Simon, however, looked like he saw the world just end 5 times over, and was still traumatized each time, taking off his glasses and rubbing the blue lenses.

And then falling to sit down, like every old man needs after a long trip.

"Where's peppermint butler?" Simon asked, Marceline sniffing the air slightly.

"Eh, it smells like he went back to his death cult room." Marceline reported, hands on her hips.

"Probably for the better. Happy he's getting the sleep you and I should have." Simon grumbled, Marceline raising an eyebrow.

"Since when 'sleeping in' isn't an option." She questioned playfully, Simon looking almost offended as he stood.

"Well, you see back in my day, Marceline!" "Ahhhh, here we go again." Marceline groaned to the familiar lecture.

"We'd get up early to start are days, not sleep in while we were out all-night doing glob knows what!" Simon insisted, pacing back and forth, Marceline feeling the urge to laugh despite her face muscles aching from these last couple hours.

But still laughed anyways.

Marceline turned to the rising sun, backing up slightly not to be caught in the sunlight.

Until she felt someone place a hat on her head.

"WHAT THE-, SIMON!!" Marceline snapped, turning around to see her father trying to adjust the sunhat on her head, having the gall to say, "Hold still, Marceline. I don't need my fearless Marceline burning up out there!"

Marceline's embarrassment immediately dimmed, replaced with this burning love for her now legal dad.

"Thanks Simon." Marceline said, shifting the hat on tighter as she stared at Simon's soft smile, smiling back.

As the two walked down the steps of the candy castle, seeing various candy citizens opening doors to start their respective days.

"See! These guys get it!" Simon shouted as he presented with his hands, Marceline just scoffing with a, "Whatever, dude. Another point to Simon about being right I'd guess."

Simon caught up with Marceline as they walked through the candy kingdom, responding with, "Well, you were right on alot of things Marceline."

The vampire queen looked to her dad, with the fricking 'prove it' look.

"Name three things I was right about on this entire trip. Honestly." Marceline said bluntly, Simon scratching the back of his head as he went over the days- or nights events.

"Well, for starters, you were right about beating up that annoying demon dude." Simon noted.

"Yeah, lowkey kinda underwhelmed by it all. I was expecting more of a challenge." Marceline replied.

"You were on-. On." Simon stopped for a minute, adjusting his glasses as he tried with every fiber in his being to find another right.

"Uhhhhhhhhh???" Simon scrambled as he clutched his face, Marceline patting him on the back.

"It's cool, Simon. Literally." Marcy quipped, Simon snapping his fingers with a, "OH I KNOW! you were right on... getting on that disgusting transportation demon!" Simon chuckled nervously, Marceline giving him the side eye.

"Yeah, I can just imagine a little you inside your brain, scrapping at the bottom of the idea barrel." Marceline bantered.

'CANDY KINGDOM GATES'

The two were outside the candy kingdom now, after Simon went through millions of things Marceline did "right", Marceline having to kindly and jokingly shut down all of his attempts.

Though as they made it through the candy forest, Simon's head looked up at the flying birds above, Marceline stopping.

"You good, Ice dad?" Marceline asked.

"I know the third thing is. You helped me live a little." Simon said softly, turning over to a slightly proud Marceline.

"Did I now? Like that isn't what I do best." Marceline said mischievously as they continued walking.

"Yeah, though I do disapprove of the laws you would've gone to jail over. You did help me in embracing this colorful, weird, whacky world."

Marceline listened thoughtfully, looking towards Simon.

To his blue skin.

His white hair.

His stupidly rad lightning bolt eyebrows.

The magic that still flickered in his hands sometimes, even if he wasn't used to it.

"Does it help that your more connected to the world now?" Marceline asked, Simon piping up a bit with surprise.

"You mean, me being kinda like a wizard now. Without being crazy?" Simon guessed.

"Yeah. Now being a antiquarian, scientist, explorer." "And a lyricist!" Simon quipped as he pointed sternly, Marceline grinning wider.

"That and. Being my favorite dad in the world." Marceline finished.

Marceline reached into the heavy backpack, pulling out the other red candy snacks she planned to eat later, handing the bag back to Simon.

"You're leaving now?" Simon asked, as if he didn't want Marceline to leave yet.

Marceline just simply held the ice guitar she's been carrying.

"Yeah, yeah. Gotta test out this new guitar you made me. Though what if it melts, Simon?" She questioned as she plucked the strings, the antiquarian giving a reassuring nod.

"As long as I'm around, it's never going to melt." Simon said as he flutters his fingers over the instrument, Marceline looking at her wizard father with amusement.

Until she noticed something.

On the left part of the body, there were two letters on the guitar.

M.P.

Marceline petrikov.

Just seeing that brought tears to Marcy's eyes, Simon looking up concerned.

"What's wrong, Marcelin-." Simon would once again, be interrupted with a tight hug, probably the tightest Marceline ever gave him.

"Marcy I uh, you know the more you hug me, the more it'll probably lose its meaning." Simon spouted nervously.

"Then don't let it. And don't ever change, dad. Please." Marceline whispered sternly as tears fell freely.

After a long 2 minutes, Marceline finally pulled away, Simon adjusting his arms after the tight hug.

"Well, see ya dad." Marceline said as she slung the guitar over her shoulder, making a peace sign for her dad as she walked into the candy forest.

"Goodbye Marceline. till we meet again." Simon whispered to himself.

He didn't go immediately home yet.

Simon wondered through the forest, finding a rock in prefect place of the sunlight to hit him, despite the candy trees blocking most of it.

The antiquarian simply sat at the rock, legs close together, hands clasped in his lap as he looked up.

The slight breeze flown by his hair as he closed his eyes, embracing the world around him as his new home.

 

'DEEP FOREST. 6:30 AM'

The forest was filled with rustling creatures big and small, populated with giant bushes, tall trees littered with scratch marks from a certain beast the night before.

Though, another thing was in this forest.

A soft, yet beautiful melody via a flute that plagued the forest.

It was Huntress wizard.

She would squat perched in a tree, playing the Eterna city theme on her flute, remembering Finn saying it came from a game called... pokee Mon??

He said the song gave off those 'nature vibes', and for the most part he wasn't lying.

Though there was one final thing that was in this forest, one that made Huntress wizard perk up, putting down her flute.

Then, a figure cloaked in invisibility walked from the bushes, wiping off leaves.

"Aggh! Stupid leaves!" The figure muttered, Huntress wizard recognizing the familiar voice.

"Yo, pb? Is that you?" HW asked, squinting her eyes slightly, the figure finally uncloaking itself.

And it was!

Princess bubblegum, wearing her lab coat alongside her usual pink dress, and gold tiara.

Huntress wizard jumps down from the tree in one fell hop, walking over to greet the princess.

"Hey, Pb. See you're not that cool with the forest. What brings a princess like you over to the woods, eh?" Huntress asks, a little lighter than usual.

"Oh, about that Huntress. I have a job for you; would you like to hear it?" Bubblegum informs with a bright smile.

"Yeah? Lay it on me. Is it some beast to kill? Someone harassing you? Giving me a good reason to let loose?" Huntress said that last one rather sinisterly.

"Yes, actually!" Bubblegum piped up.

"You know Simon, right? Simon petrikov?" Bubblegum asked, Huntress tilting her head slightly. "Y-yeah? What about him."

 

"I need you to kidnap him." The forest went silent, even the birds stopped chirping in the distance. "Yeah, I'm running an experiment for this new device I'm working on, and I need him as a test subject." Bubblegum said casually, like she was talking about the weather.

HW's eyes widened slightly.

All her time as a wizard, she didn't have many morals. Outside of not harming innocents, harassing, stealing, and especially killing people.

But kidnapping? For whatever experiment Pb needed Simon of all people for?

That was a no go.

"What the... No, Bubblegum. to be frank with you, I'm a huntress of the wild. not of the innocent. Sorry, no can do." huntress said firmly, already walking away.

Pb sighed in disappointment.

She walked over to the bushes, pulling something from the leaves.

"Well, if you won't do it, perhaps your more 'feral' side will." Pb informed bleakly, Huntress turned slightly to see...

The Beast Eye.

Bubblegum held it in her hands, smiling at her brightly like before, but now it filled her with dread instead of warmth.

"What the, where did you get that?!" Huntress askes, her voice dropping to a serious level as she pulled out her bow, loading up an arrow.

"From the person you're hunting. Simon petrikov." Pb said coldly, rubbing her hand over the orb as it glowed a brighter yellow.

Huntress's body shook, like someone forcefully injected heroin into her veins.

She felt to the ground, shaking. trying to hold herself back from the beast within, like she was trying to fight falling asleep.

But it was no use.

She gripped the grass as she changed, letting go of her rational thinking, her self-control.

Her leave bangs grew rapidly, growing to the lower part of her upper back.

She growled as her tree branches in her hair grew, alongside new ones forming on the sides of her head.

She growled and whimpered as she transformed, almost at war with the two sides of herself, Bubblegum already putting down the orb to be ready to react.

"RAARRRGGGHH!!!" Huntress roared, lunging to Princess bubblegum to tackle her.

"Oh, OH NUTS!" Bubblegum squeals, reacting just in time to encase HW in a Candy cane cage with her elemental candy powers, the feral Huntress wizard shifting uncomfortably in her new confinements.

Bubblegum took some breaths, staring at the person, No. Creature she just caught.

She looked how Huntress wizard desperately tried to escape, a look of uncertainty crossing her eyes.

But it quickly vanished.

 

Because she knew what she had to do, to keep Hersel- I mean Simon safe!

Yeah. I guess.

Bubblegum pulled out a walkie talkie, calling peppermint butler as she stared at the thrashing Huntress wizard.

"Hello, my lady?" Came Pepbut's familiar voice.

"Yeah, Pepbut. Imma need you to send a Candy copter to the forest. I got a new experiment to work on." Bubblegum informed as she stared at HW chewing on her bars.

"Can do, My lady. Expected in 5." Peppermint butler replied, hanging up the walkie talkie, Pb putting it in her pocket.

Bubblegum walked towards the cage, looking at Huntress wizard's expression, filled with this primal anger.

She matched it with this soft, almost motherly smile.

"It's for your own good. It's for Simon's own good too." She says, the candy copter being heard in the distance.

Notes:

Give me a week for the Minerva x Simon chapters. Your author needs a break!!!!

Chapter 33: happiness doesn't belong to the selfless, y'know.

Summary:

Minerva Campbell is going through a bit of a struggle readjusting to being human again, maybe thinking about she may have been better off sticking to being an AI rather than a person. (WARNING. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES OF SELF-HATE, GUILT OF MURDER, AND SUCIDIAL THEMES. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH SUCH! THANK YOU!)

'MINERVA'S APARTMENT. 7:00 AM'

In the futuristic city of Up-ton, a city filled to the brim with techy humans, talking animals, holographic screens that showed constant news updates, was also home to the city's creator and governor.

Or well, used to be the governor at least.

In the apartment complex 'Mini Homes', the room 824 held the lady known as Minerva Campbell.

The apartment was tidy. Too tidy.

 

There wasn't a speck of mess or dirtiness across the apartment outside the faint layer of dust on appliances.

Books of human evolution and engineering in the living room remained stacked on their shelves, the kitchen was inhumanly spotless as if it hadn't been touched, the bathroom was spick and span without a scratch.

And the worst part?

It had been two weeks like this.

Minerva's bedroom, outside of the bed she snored loudly in, was also in order.

But none of it felt lived in.

The closet? Was filled only with identical white lab coats and nothing more.

Her nightstand? Didn't have a single interesting thing on it, not a sticker or anything.

Just a generic, wooden, white nightstand, with nothing but her white hat and a cat looking alarm clock.

The only thing that even looked used was her treadmill and weights, obviously staying fit even in a such a state.

Minerva Campbell snored loudly in the messy sheets, blonde hair messy and spread, clutching her pillow like it was someone she knew.

 

And maybe it was.

She had nothing but a black night gown with no sleeves and a black bra, the colors reflecting the darkness inside.

And.....

ME MOW! ME MOW! ME MOW!

Came her cat alarm on her nightstand, ringing at exactly 7:10 am, Minerva's face shifting from content to annoyance.

"Mmmmmmmm, why nowwww? No please, want to go back to my wedding." Minerva moaned as she tightened her hold around the pillow, like it was anchoring her in the dream.

But once the ringing was heard, she knew she'd never go back to dreamland.

Minerva sat up, looking blankly at the wall, white and empty.

"Great."

She sucked her mouth a couple of times, running a hand through her blonde hair and feeling how messy it was.

"Hmmm," she groaned disappointedly to herself, putting the pillow back with the others stacked behind her, finally getting herself to the bathroom.

'BATHROOM 7:15 AM'

Minerva didn't even react to the coldness that adhere to her bare feet, walking over to the sink and instinctively going through her drawer and getting her comb.

Within minutes, she instinctively combed her hair, washed it thoroughly, brushed her teeth and washed her face, getting through the whole thing without her smile. Without her brightness.

Minerva's face was like the sun blocked out by the eclipse, hiding the warmth of her sun that only showed to the receivers of her sunlight.

Minerva took off her night gown, wearing nothing but her bra and black panties, heading straight to the treadmill.

"Alrighty then, some exercise may get me pumping." She said groggily, putting the speed on 1.5x.

Her usual.

The machine would hum to life, the ground speeding up as Minerva began to run.

Her blood was flowing, muscles that she grew to love were moving, a little bit of sweat dripping, all normal humanly things happening.

Though Minerva's face wasn't screaming "fazed". At all.

Until she felt something.

The adrenaline.

The rush.

Actual excitement.

The instinct to chase the feeling, this feeling of excitement, this feeling of speed, this feeling of-

"You're quite literally running from your responsibilities." Her mind whispered harshly, Minerva's face dropping.

"Is this what you do now? stay in indoors and exercise while hiding from the people who need you? Who looked up to you?"

Minerva winced at the harshness of the truth, her breathes becoming even more ragged than usual, picking up the pace.

"You're only proving that your selfish...PHACK!!!" Came Minerva slipping on her own foot, hitting her head on the buttons of the treadmill and falling on her back, looking like a smacked cockroach.

"Uuuahhh, Glob that hurt," She moaned, placing a hand to her throbbing forehead.

After laying there for glob knows how long, she headed to her closet, pulling out one of the coats.

she got dress, wearing her usual lab coat, orange blouse, brown skirt, beige shoes, and her "I'm the real Minerva" button, heading out of her room.

She didn't even acknowledge the idea of breakfast, just headed to the kitchen to pull out a granola bar she probably wouldn't eat.

But as Minerva made it to the door, pass the calendar marked for a meeting, reaching her hand to the doorknob, a small part of her mind whispered. "What's the point? you know what's going to happen."

She paused, her hand hovering over the knob.

Until she firmly grabbed it and twisted it open, forcing herself out the door.

'THE REST OF THE APARTMENT. 7:59'

Minerva had always fantasized about being in a community again. saying high to neighbors, being an absolute social butterfly around everyone with returning to her human flesh.

But Minerva now?

As She walked down the hall, she hears a, "HEY MINERVA! YOU COMING TO MY BARBECUE? WE HAVE EXTRA SAUCES!" coming from Stevison from room 828, Wearing his genuine big smile, waving with enthusiasm.

Though Minerva, instinctively forced a smile and waving back with a, "Hello, Steve. Glad to see you too."

"Oh, uh. Thats alright too, I guess." Stevison said somberly, closing his door.

Most of her interactions went like that, hiding her pain so no one else has to see it. For their happiness. Not hers.

She headed to the elevator, stepping into the slick white room.

Minerva turned to the silvery keypad bolted into the wall, approaching it as she pressed the black screen.

"Yes? How may I help you?" Came a robotic voice.

"Take me to the first floor, please." Minerva asked nicely.

"Ding!" Came a chime in the elevator, the blue light above the doors glowing intensely.

But as the doors were closing, Minerva spotted a familiar dark-skinned lady in purple pants, a black top with sleeves and round glasses, and holding a ton of blueprints.

"Don't worry lindy! I got it!" Minerva yelped snapping out of her depression, opening a compartment on the silvery box, imputing special commands via buttons, and halting the doors for Lindy to step in.

She ran over in a panic, nearly dropping one of the blueprints as she dashed into the elevator alongside Minerva.

" t-thank you, Miss Minerva. You're a life saver." Came Lindy's subdued voice, clutching the papers nervously.

"No problem, Lindy." Minerva replied with a smile, the elevator closing and descending down.

The two women stood together, Lindy glancing over at Minerva, the ladder looking composed with her hands held in front of her.

"So, uh... Don't mind me asking, but you did hear of the new ice cream there selling? At the new ice cream shop?" Lindy asked nervously, adjusting her round glasses.

Minerva sighed, looking away from Lindy's expression.

"Thanks, but I think I'd pass." She admitted.

"How's your construction of that new messenger place your building? Y'know since I stepped down." Minerva said too quickly, Lindy's expression softening.

"It's going good, But I'm kinda concerned about you Miss Minerva. You're sure you don't want to try out the new Ice cream? I hear it has space rock chunks in it." Lindy asked, Minerva just remaining silent.

"I-ii mean, don't get me wrong, you don't have to!" She immediately corrected, nearly dropping her blueprints at the drop of the elevator, Minerva instinctively turning over to help only to see Lindy clutching them all tightly.

"But, I just can't help but notice the... 'shut in' you became." Lindy's words hitting Minerva in a spot she and only she ever acknowledged.

"You barely talk with any of the neighbors; the only time you ever seem happy is when someone needs your help, I've even found countless invites of a futuristic barbecue from Stevison leaking out of your mailbo-. DING!" Came the elevator as Lindy perked up, the doors opening up to the main lobby of Mini Homes.

Lindy looked back at Minerva, empathy filling her eyes.

"W-well pick up this little ted talk later, I gotta get to my job. Toodles!" And like that, Lindy was gone, leaving Minerva alone as she made a couple steps out of the elevator.

Minerva Campbell looked at the floor, self-pity running through her veins.

She looked at her hands, fleshly, alive, natural.

Yet they were the place she held all the tears whenever the guilt comes in.

No more.

Minerva clenched her fists, looking at the open doors ahead of her like they were some golden opportunities.

Her face was filled to the brim with determination, her gaze sharpened as she walked.

She was going to taste that ice cream. And she was going to allow herself to enjoy it.

"SPACE ICE CREAM PARLOR. 11:00 AM."

It took some time, alot of time.

But Minerva finally reached the Parlor.

It took getting through crowds of people and going behind several alleyways.

But she was here. And God damn, was it a sight to behold.

The building was in the shape of a glistening space shuttle, it had a black sheen to it, white lines horizontally spreading across the structure, with tables filled with people outside, and big letters reading, "SPACE ICE CREAM PARLOR. HOME TO ICE CREAM FROM THE GREAT BEYOND!"

"Perhaps I gave my citizens too much free will." Minerva meekly stated, cringing at the building.

she walked towards it reluctantly, pass kids running around with their ice cream.

Though that guilt refused to leave.

She walked into the establishment, the atmosphere being spacious and empty, despite the people inside.

Minerva looked around admiring the place, the painted stars across the black floor, the shooting stars on the ceiling that had a dim lighting to intense the space aesthetic, even cute aliens painted on the walls.

Minerva's eyes were feasting on the visuals, so much so she forgot she was still walking to the register, hitting her foot against the counter and looking into the employee's soul.

"Can I help you ma'am?" Came one of the employees, Minerva snapping immediately to the young black lady dressed in a meteor dress.

"Um, yes! I'd like to purchase the Space chunk Ice cream please?" Minerva asked politely.

"What size?"

"Uh, maybe a small. Want to know if I like it first." Minerva clarified, the young woman already heading to the back to get Minerva the ice cream.

But as she waited, Minerva could hear herself go into self-pity mode. AGAIN.

Like an annoying fly that refuses to leave.

"And now you're reaping off the success of your citizens when you're not doing anything to help them. Great job, Minerva! Great fucking Jo-!!"

"Here is your food, ma'am." She offered, Minerva snapping out of her struggle, reaching into her lab coat, grasping the futuristic money and paying.

But not before a, "Would you like to donate to charity?"

Which Sent are beautiful scientist, therapist woman.

INTO. AN ABSOLUTE. SPIRAL.

She held a normal expression as she pondered the offer, but her mind was racing with questions and breaking down by the second.

"Charity? CHARITY!!!!???? HOW??!! I built this whole society on making lives easier, where suffering should be non-existent, trying to keep the human race alive! I-I could've, maybe should've just died with everyone when Dr. gross put out that virus! BUTTT NOOOOO!! I gave my fucking life to be an AI to this place and there's people SUFFERING and at fucking charity!!????"

The employee just watches with concern, seeing the twitching mental breakdown behind Minerva's calm expression.

And then, Minerva responds with the only logical option.

DUMP!!!

Minerva left the Ice cream parlor swiftly, with her ice cream of course, not even explaining the 5,000,0000,000$ donation she just dumped on the employee's counter, leaving her dazed and confused.

 

"ROOFTOP. 2:00 PM."

Minerva would make her way up to one of the many futuristic rooftops in Up-ton, perfect place to admire the view and the floating cars, all while eating ice cream.

Perfect reminder of all the people she just abandoned.

Minerva walked to the edge of the building, sitting down as she held the ice cream in her hands.

She looked down at it, the white, brown, and gray, the ice cream forming a mini asteroid with the space chunks.

It remained cool and in its most delicious state via its container pumping cool energy into it 24/7, Minerva smiling in admiration of how far humanity has come.

She pulled out a spoon from her lab coat, stuck it into the ice cream and took a small bite.

And the taste?

"Mmmmmm. That tastes nice." Minerva sighed, taking another bite and another.

Minerva was absolutely lost in the sauce. or cream I might add.

The chunky space rocks, with tasted oddly authentic, added a bit of spice to the treat, alongside the tasty rocky road that fitted with the space theming spectacularly.

until she heard it...

not a voice.

But a scream.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! SOMEONE HELP! SOMEONE!!!" Came from below, Minerva looking down swiftly to see a-a kid?

It was a kid with his hair cut in the shape of a dice, looking no younger than 10 or 11, screaming for dear life as he held tightly on the building with weird looking gloves.

"PLEASE MA'AM! I WAS JUST CLIMBING THE WALLS WITH MY SUCTION CUP GLOVES, BUT THERE ALMOST OUT OF CHARGE AND I CAN'T GET DOWNNNN!"

The kid whined, tears falling from his eyes as Minerva scrambled for a way to help.

"HOLD ON TIGHTLY! I'LL CALL SOME MINERVA HELPERS!!" Minerva yelped back, closing her eyes tightly and trying to focus on any Minerva bots nearby.

But there were none.

Minerva focused harder trying to find one, anyone that wasn't busy with a task.

Until she found one.

"Yes!!"

It was located on the outskirts of western Up-ton, immediately powering on and heading to Minerva's location.

Minerva opened her eyes again, a wave of relief washing over her.

"Pheww." She sighed, looking back down to the kid struggling for dear life.

"Don't worry, child. Help is on the way!" Minerva says happily, the child still breathing rapidly calmed down slightly, looking up to ask, "I'm I going to see my mommy again?"

Minerva was immediately tried to give a thumbs up, leading to her fist knocking over her space chunk ice cream.

It fell onto the struggling kid, causing him to lose his grip.

And fall to his death.

The kid didn't scream.

He didn't even shout.

He muttered a simple phrase.

"w-why did you lie?"

His body dropped, picking up speed, the friction trying its best to resist the fall until.

SNAP.

The boy lay with his neck snapped, lifeless and let down, people crowding around the body exchanging faces of horror and discomfort in their usually innocent lives.

Minerva just watched it all unfold, her knees buckling and hitting the floor, watching the mess she just created from not noticing a single detail.

It didn't even matter that she doesn't know the boy's name.

An innocent boy's life is gone because she wanted a break.

An innocent boy's life is gone because she abandoned her responsibility.

An innocent boy's life is gone because of her selfishness.

Minerva's eyes widened. her mouth dropped.

Tears began to flow as they made their way home, right in Minerva's hands as she sobbed.

"Whhhyyy, WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY!!??" She screamed, her hands still glued to her face wet with tears, her hands being moist and hot from Minerva's face simultaneously.

She collapses to the floor, her eyes pouring with tears, occasionally tightening the grasp of her blonde hair out of anger, and a means to punish herself for daring to live.

She just lied there for hours, the gnawing guilt inside finally having its fuel to burn Minerva with the narrative, "You don't deserve happiness, you were made to only serve and look where trying to outside that led you."

The thoughts suffocated her, tightening around her like a python, giving her no room to breathe.

But then, out of nowhere, Minerva heard something in the distance.

"Greetings, Master Minerva! Why do you require my assistance?" The Minerva helper asked happily to the sobbing real Minerva, its metal and code making it incapable of understanding the severity of being late.

She looked to herself, so kind and innocent.

She held out a hand. "J-just... T-take me home, please." She sniffled, pain being heard in each syllable of her voice, the Minerva bot putting the real Minerva in her arms and flew back to "Mini Homes."

 

'MINI HOMES. 8:30 PM'

Minerva refused to speak to anyone.

She didn't even deserve that right.

She walked into the lobby, ignoring everything and everyone around her as she headed into the elevator.

"Yes? How may I help y-"

"Third floor. NOW." Minerva snapped, hurrying her words out, as the elevator did the same with her.

She marched down the hall, Mr. Stevison attempting to get her attention with a "HEY MINERVA! I;M COOKING QUITE THE BARBECUE IN HERE, WHY DON'T YOU JOIN! in?"

Minerva didn't even respond.

Just went into her room and slammed the door hard.

"MINERVA'S APARTMENT. 8:35 PM"

Minerva put her hands on her face once more, sinking down to the bottom of the door in defeat.

"You only proving that your selfish, Minerva." Her mind whispered, Minerva not even fighting it this time.

"Your desire to be human, your 'needs' that you yearn for, should've stayed denied. because you don't get the memo, YOUR. DESIRES. DO. NOT. MATTER!"

Minerva choked cried and flinched at the harshness of the words, screaming at the top of her lungs in utter agony.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

She shrieked like a ghoul, not caring how loud she was, too lost in her emotional turmoil.

"All I wanted was to be human again. To be happy again. Why does that have to be so wrong?" She asked quietly, nothing responded to her plea.

Minerva sat in silence, head buried in her knees, hands clenching her dress.

Her thoughts spiraled darker.

From self-pity. To the boy's parent's reaction. To everyone in Up-ton hating her.

To...

Minerva stood up.

She walked towards the kitchen, opening the door and gazing around the room, eyes going from the stove, the cabinets, to the knife holder.

Her dried eyes landed on that.

But before she did anything, she reached for her hat, taking it off and looking at it.

The silky fabric, the little nubs on the top along with the letter 'T'.

She looked at it, giving no expression as it wasn't fit for her anymore.

She had failed her duty, more than ever.

Minerva threw it away from her, not caring where it landed as she approached the knives.

She took out one of the smaller ones, gently pulling it out of the wooden socket as she stared at it, her tired eyes gazing at the sharpness that promised freedom.

And anywhere was better than living right now.

She wanted something small, something quick.

She held the knife to her chest as she looked towards the floor and closed her eyes.

"The Minerva bots will take care of Up-ton." Her mind rationalized, clearly not thinking straight.

But she didn't care anymore.

Her legs trembled, knees buckled as she fell, the knife still held to her chest.

This is it.

This is the end of Minerva Campbell, the woman who saved humanity and saving it from herself.

Until...

 

RING! RING! RING! RING! RING!

Came the phone, Minerva dropping the knife before it pierced her chest, landing face first on the floor.

Minerva looked up from her pained face, seeing the knife in front of her, and the phone on the table ahead of her, given a choice.

Leave life for good, or try one last time despite what just happened today.

And Minerva bolted to the right.

She stood, brushing off her blouse and dress, heading to the phone on the dining table.

And on the screen, was someone she should've expected.

Simon petrikov.

Minerva picked up the phone, started with a shaky, "He-hello? Simon?" Minerva stammered.

"Hey, wait, are you okay? You sound nervous Minerva?" Simon asked with concern, Minerva following up with a, "Nothing, nothing. Just flustered that you call at this time." She explained, not technically lying, but luckily Simon bought it.

"Well, I was just asking if your still down tomorrow for my therapy session? I kinda need to talk about some things concerning me and Marceline if your down." Simon said, Minerva pausing for a minute before replying with a, "Sure, Simon. I'll be there, 12:00 pm like last time, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Later Minerva." Simon said as the call rung out, Minerva just pulling up a chair and sitting in it.

She stared back at the knife and the discarded islands hat, Minerva finding it easier to pick up the hat and put it back on.

Because someone needs her.

despite what she thought about herself, how little she saw herself, someone needed her.

Though she looked back at the knife on the floor, taking it back to the knife holder and heading to bed.

"Perhaps another day."

Notes:

Give me till next week for more follow ups.

Chapter 34: Lean on me.

Summary:

Minerva goes to do her usual therapy session with Simon, the conversation about Simon's mentals dissolving as Minerva would crack, allowing someone to know the horror she just witnessed, and for someone to see the pain she hides.

'MINERVA'S APARTMENT. 1:30 AM'

Silence clogged up any emotion in Minerva's too tidy apartment.

The only sound came from the lights in the bathroom, Minerva already done with her hygiene.

Her legs pulled up on the toilet seat, where tears found a new home that wasn't Minerva's hands.

It was her arms.

She held her arms tightly around her legs, tears still falling.

Even after the call from Simon, the mood didn't improve for Minerva.

Her curled-up form on the toilet was still deep in guilt and pain, the trauma swarming her memories like an unwanted fog.

The child's face.

His desperation and sweat.

The fear in his eyes as he hung on for dear life.

Especially that "Why did you lie?" line.

But, that's not what pained Minerva the most, oh no.

It was, that every time she'd imagined the incident, every time she pictured the boy's face.

She saw her baby boy, Finn.

Her 6.875 kilograms.

Minerva whimpered at the thought, clutching her blonde hair slightly. The idea that someone else's baby boy, their everything, maybe their reason for living dying because of her selfishness?

It stirred that motherly side of Minerva rather badly.

That it almost made her want to seek the knife again.

Minerva, after some time would look up to the clock on the wall.

'1:35 AM.'

She sighed, getting up from the toilet and turning off the lights, heading to bed.

She was already dressed in her night gown, already to go to her retreat from how depressing life is, already deep in the blankets and ready for sleep.

But deep down?

Behind her depressing guilt, behind what happened today, behind it all.

She ached for something she starved for, something that all humans needed.

But Minerva forced herself to be content with its absence, finally going to sleep.

'SIMON'S CABIN. 11:55 AM'

The morning sun, the one about to become the afternoon in five minutes, was high in the sky on a typical Tuesday.

Well, maybe typical for everyone except Simon petrikov within his Cabin.

"Goddammit, where in Grod is it!" Came Simon several feet deep into his living room closet, searching through heavy boxes for the Beast Eye.

The icy antiquarian had been searching the whole damn house for it all day, knowing what it did to a certain wizard he knows.

The kitchen was searched out, his bedroom was investigated to the best of his abilities, even the backyard that Simon froze a couple of times while searching.

But it was friggin nowhere!!

Simon eventually got his head out the closet, slamming it shut as he brushed off the dust on his suit.

"Glob, I really should get this place suited with security cameras," Simon complained under his breath, going off to the other rooms to clean up.

'OUTSIDE OF SIMON'S CABIN. 11:57 AM'

the morning breeze rolled by as Minerva made her way into Simon's front yard, pass his surprisingly put together wooden fence, her hovercar resting behind it.

She walked up to the wooden structure, not noticing the still fresh brown wood of the house, nor the wooden steps having little ice bricks under them, or even the removal of the statues Simon made of his friends that she, herself encouraged him to make.

She was busy with repressing the tidal wave of pain and grief, locking the beast inside as she put on the mask she wore.

The mask of the cool, calm, collected therapist, despite the primal screams inside of her demanding for it to be removed.

But to no avail.

Minerva stood at the door, forcing her smile, checking for the 1 billionth time for any dried tears, as she raised her fist to the door.

"Simon needs a therapist. Not a sob story." She whispered.

"SIMON'S CABIN. 11:58 AM."

"Knock, knock!"

Came the door, Simon's head snapping up from the kitchen table as he eyed the door in the living room, maneuvering around the living room table and couches.

"Minerva."

Simon wasted no time, leaving the kitchen and scanning the living room one more time for any junk that he scourged through, maneuvering around the living room table and couches.

"Hmmm, everything should be in check." Simon thought out loud, approaching the door without bumping into his icy cheer's replica, finally reaching for the doorknob.

It was Minerva Campbell.

Still with the same smile, same lab coat, same orange blouse, same brown shirt, alongside her white socks and shoes.

"Hello, petrikov." Minerva said softly, smile widening, saying his last name to help ground her in professionalism.

Simon begins feeling warm butterflies swarm in his chest at the casualness of his last name, smiling back with a sharp-tooth grin, which Minerva liked more she ever says out loud.

"Hehe, it's been a while hasn't it." Simon said nervously, allowing Minerva into his home as he held a hand behind his head.

Though, Minerva didn't respond right away with her usual bright energy, walking calmly in the house, almost ignoring Simon.

"Yeah, I guess we've got the same problem with wearing exactly the same thing every day, huh?" Simon jested, Minerva chuckling slightly, genuinely.

Enough to keep the illusion alive. Enough to keep the cage from breaking.

Minerva seated herself where she usually sat, on the second twin couch alongside Simon laying on his back on the other.

"So, how have we've been doing, Petrikov?" Minerva asked, whipping out the clipboard from her lab coat. Though, she noticed something in the corner of her eye.

A mini-icy replica of an overweight man, wearing a suit tailored to his size, alongside a striped tie and waves in his hair.

"I see you've been experimenting more with your magic, Petrikov." Minerva noted as Simon sat up, blushing slightly at the notice.

"Y-yeah, I've been tinkering with my magic a little, nothing special." Simon said as he readjusted his glasses, forcing himself to make eye contact with her.

"Thats great to hear." Minerva replies as she just simply wrote down in her notes, flipping a couple pages pass some previous issues Simon struggled with.

"So, you mentioned earlier your relationship with Marceline, hmm? Would you like to tell me more about that?" Minerva asked kindly, flipping to a blank page.

Simon shifted his body on the couch, clasping his blue hands together as he prepared to speak.

"Yeah, you know how I told you how... complicated are past is. With us roaming with constant danger, having sweet moments with Marcy, only to be reminded how much the world sucked around us." Simon reexplains, Minerva already jotting down notes.

"Well, we were out one night because Marceline wanted to change her last name. She doesn't value her relationship with her bio dad like she values what we have."

Go on." Minerva calmly insisted.

"And on the trip, I couldn't help but notice some... issues with her." Simon said rather meekly, Minerva looking up thoughtfully.

"What were they?" She asked, Simon going back to laying on the couch and looking up at the ceiling.

It pained him to utter it again, his mind wincing internally to the way he described how Marceline was acting.

"She... threatened a dude to reopen a store, she beats up the same dude over a misunderstanding, she glossed over breaking into the candy kingdom. It just wasn't like the Marcy I knew so I made my feelings clear, like you've been saying on previous sessions."

Simon gestured over to Minerva, reaffirming with a nod and, "Yeah, I did."

"After I uh, called out what she was doing, she kinda went off on me. She accused me of liking her better when she was a child, my guess is that she must've assumed I didn't like her being independent, which wasn't the issue I had at all. But..."

Minerva stopped writing to see Simon looking away from her, her eyes softening with pity.

"But what, Petrik-." Minerva froze.

Her eyes caught something moving in the corner, looking from Simon to the foot of the couch.

A small figure was lurking behind the furniture, its form was obscured, the arm of the couch covering the admirer in shadow.

But it was very clearly a child.

Its eyes peered into Minerva's soul, Pitch black, but somehow visible through the shadow.

Minerva's face contorted into dread, her heart doing jumping jacks, sweat dripping down her brow.

It couldn't be real, It-it shouldn't be real. But it was.

The world felt like it was on pause, The few seconds Minerva stared at this... figure feeling like minutes as the guilt started to come in.

Until she heard, "Minerva? Are you alright?" Came a concerned Simon, reaching his hand towards her, Minerva looking back at him now sitting up.

"Umm, y-yes Sim-Petrikov, I'm alright." Minerva apologized putting a hand to her head, eyes glancing back to the foot of the couch.

But nothing was there.

Minerva stood abruptly, Simon's face followed her movements as she asks, "Is it okay I use your bathroom?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. its down the hall, the second to last room." Simon elaborated, Minerva quickly making her way to the loo.

As she left, Simon couldn't help but notice Minerva's... behavior since she gotten here.

Her lack of joy, the awkward staring off, the fact this is the first time she took a bathroom break during a session.

"Okay Simon, your being ridiculous. She's not your whole world and she has needs like anyone else." He says to himself, lying back down on the couch as he waited patiently.

 

'SIMON'S BATHROOM. 12:10 AM'

Minerva quickly closed the door and rushed to the sink, splashing cold water in her face, not even bothering to take off her hat.

She knew what was happening.

She knew it was likely her guilt materializing in this way, due to repressing it.

But she had a job to do and couldn't let her pesky emotions get in the way.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." She chants repeatedly, splashing water in her face each time.

"I'm fine. I-I just need to get through this for Simon, I just need t-. to." Minerva stops as she looked up to the mirror.

It was the child she failed to save, in the reflection of the mirror, Minerva's heart stopping.

his cube shaped hairdo now messy and barely resembled a cube anymore, the right side of his face was smooshed in from his fall, heavy trauma being clear to the eye with intense puffy swelling, he had a dislocated right arm alongside the left side of his jaw, gapped and shredded open with multiple teeth missing from his gums.

"SHIT!!!" Came a startled Minerva, jumping back as the child gazed at his murderer.

Minerva covered her mouth as she tried fighting the tears, stepping back from the hallucination.

She should've known this to be a hallucination, being a licensed therapist and all.

But her mind, overran by guilt and utter fear, abandoned all logical thinking, Minerva's form shaking like a leaf.

"P-please I'm s-so sorry... I'm didn't mean for..." Minerva blabbered under her breath, the mangled kid just staring at her.

And reached his arm out of the mirror.

His bloodied arm, littered with bruises and cuts grabbed the sink, pulling its distorted, bloodied body out of the mirror to reach the guilt-stricken Minerva.

the child pushed all of his body out of the mirror, falling from the sink and hitting the floor with a cold splat, like a raw hamburger patty hitting the wet floor.

As she tries to catch her breath, Minerva's eyes would dart towards the door and back at the corpse, moving carefully as she stepped over the kid, reaching for the door.

Only to feel a cold, wet hand grabs her leg.

"OH GLO-!!!!" Came Minerva as she slipped, the imaginary grasp of the kid pulling her down to the ground, Minerva's face hitting the door and falling to the ground.

She quickly turned around, seeing a wrinkled frog carpet and the kid crawling towards her, face to ground.

Minerva scooted her back up to the door with a thud, breathing on overdrive.

Her breaths quickened, her breathing turning to gasps of air, the room felt like it was shrinking around the doctor, the kid coming closer and closer, Minerva's vison blurring as tears welled up.

The child looked up again, its mangled face having a new addition to its disturbing form, as Minerva witnesses a red baby hand reach from the abyss of the kid's mouth, then another.

A small head peeked, eyes gouged out, drenched in the darkest splatters of blood, even the one streak of blonde hair was messy, sticky from the blood.

Minerva Campbell was hyperventilating at what was before her.

Baby Finn's face was staring inches from its mother's, mouth opened wide as it chubby arms pushes the jaws of the kid, forcing its jaw to move up as the sound of flesh and muscle straining filled the bathroom.

Minerva's rapid breathing increased, her body felt like it was on fire, everything felt claustrophobic, her legs pulling up to her stomach as the tears finally fell at the sight.

"I'm sorry...IM SORRY, IM SORRY, IM SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN FOR YOU TO DIE, IM SORRY IM...I'm. I'm." Minerva stopped, her head pulled to her knees, in the face of the monster made from her guilt.

"I'm just failing everyone, aren't I?" She admitted, utterly broken by the monster version of her son, the fear replaced with great emotional ache.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! Came the door, followed by a, "Minerva! Are you okay in there?!" came a concerned Simon from behind the door.

"I-I heard banging and things being knocked over and just making sure you're okay!" Came Simon again, Minerva looking up to the doorknob.

And locking it.

Simon tried unlocking the door, only to discover that it's locked as confusion plagued the icy antiquarian.

"Minerva, the doors locked." Simon says to his therapist, getting the response of, "I'm alright Petrikov! just tripped on a rug is all!" Minerva insisted with the fakest cheery tone, the sniffling and rawness in her voice being a dead giveaway for the antiquarian.

His heart drops.

Simon took his hand of the doorknob, just listening to Minerva trying to catch her breath, even sitting with his knees up at the bathroom door to get a better listen.

His icy heart twisted at what Minerva was trying to do.

"Are... Are you really alright Minerva?" Simon asked softly through the door, Minerva on her side was still staring at the abomination.

"Yeah, yeah I'm....I'm..." Minerva started, but knew in her fleshly heart couldn't finish, her sobs kicking in again.

Her wails of sorrow and guilt could be heard from behind the walls, even throughout the Cabin Simon called Home.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" Simon encouraged.

"N-no." Came Minerva's choked response.

"But why?"

"BECAUSE A CHILD DIED BECAUSE OF ME!!!" Minerva snapped, unable to hold it in as she covered her mouth, the shame of the unprofessionalism clawing at her mind.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit. Glob, what was that for?!" Came Minerva's panicked whispers and sniffles as she clutched her hair, Simon almost tearing up as well from the outburst.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Simon. Y-you s-shouldn't be h-hearing this." Minerva insisted, the facade finally gone, Simon turning his cheek to the door's wooden texture, adjusting his body sideways in a desperate, human attempt to reach her.

"But I am. I am, and... you have nothing to be sorry about. Hey um, I may not be a therapist like you, but can I at least offer you a shoulder to lean on?" Simon offered, the door continuing to emit sobs and sniffles from it.

For hours.

And hours.

And hours.

Simon sat there the whole time, patiently waiting for Minerva to open up.

Until he heard something.

CLICK!

The lock to the door unlocked.

Simon stood up, raising his hand to the now unlocked door, prepared to see some mess or something.

But when he opened it, all he saw was a slightly wrinkled frog carpet Minerva tripped over, and Minerva Campbell herself curled up next to the bathtub/shower.

Simon said nothing, making his way to sit next to Minerva's trembling form.

Which she immediately hugged.

"Oh, Minerva I-!" yelped Simon, adjusting to her tight grasp as she pulled closer.

The sudden hug gave off something desperate and primal, like her body was starved for this.

Simon just sat there in her tight embrace for minutes, recapping the day from him trying to find that stupid beast eye, to comforting his therapist.

Ooo really was full of surprises, huh?

"Y-your... kinda cold." Minerva saying within Simon's jackie, though she didn't really mind.

In fact. she liked it.

Simon could feel Minerva the tightness of her limbs, the pent-up neediness for this kind of connection, this kind of closeness.

It almost felt like nobody has hugged her before.

And for a long time? It was.

Simon wrapped his arms around Minerva's stomach, grounding her in the moment, giving her what she's denied herself for too long.

Human connection.

Simon drew lazy circles into Minerva's back to soothe her, helping her to loosen her arms around him, though she still gripped his jackie with her fingers.

This transpired for about 15 minutes, the two's embrace seeming frozen in time.

And then after some time, Simon whispered into Minerva's ear, "Hey. Sorry, but do you have anywhere to go today? besides me?"

Minerva simply nodded.

"Well, I gotta spot we can both relax at, if you want." Simon offered.

Minerva looked up at his face, holding a small smile on it.

"Where?"

'EPILOUGE. SIMON'S ROOF. 6:00pm.'

The evening sun was the perfect backdrop for everything that was released today.

Simon and Minerva sat on the roof of the cabin, the only other thing present was the chimney, and the lingering sadness from the both of them.

Nobody spoke, not in the 5 minutes they been up here, Minerva still wiping away tears.

Until.

"You, wanna tell me what happened?" Simon encouraged, not forcing. But encouraged.

Minerva looks to Simon's concerned look, eager to help, but not to force.

But the shame rose in her again, causing her to turn away.

"No, not right now." She whispered meekly, still sniffling.

Simon turns to the evening sun, smiling at its beauty.

"It looks beautiful this evening, Minerva." Simon jested slightly, Minerva peeking up from her knees.

"I suppose it is, Simon." Minerva admitted.

As Simon stared at the setting sun, an idea crossed his mind. It sounded stupid at first, but it may just cheer up Minerva.

After all, when hasn't Simon done silly things to cheer others up?

"Hey, I know it probably sounds silly, but could I... I don't know, sing you a song? To help you feel better."

Minerva pondered the idea.

Simon, to no offense, didn't strike Minerva as the "Singing type." with his voice.

But, it was worth a shot.

"Sure..." Came Minerva weakly.

Simon stood up, conjuring a keyboard made of ice, sitting at the ice-made seat to play a very familiar song.

"Does somebody jump for joy? Does somebody cry? Now that am not, part of that sadness?"

Minerva perks up, an idea forming.

Simon continues with, "Does somebody want me now? Now-."

"Am not an AI?" Minerva interrupts, catching Simon off guard with her good vocals.

He turns slowly to the slightly flustered Minerva, in shock at what she just said as she looks away.

"Its okay, Minerva. We can sing together." Simon insists, Minerva still turned as Simon continued playing.

But Minerva sung first.

"Now that I'm not, assisting... the calmness?" She finished, still turned in embarrassment, hating how well that lines up.

"Part of the madness." Simon sung.

"Assisting the calmness." retorted Minerva, turning slightly.

Minerva sung again with, " Voices and guilt still echo faintly-"

"I can still hear that around." Simon finished.

"Somewhere the roller-coaster climbs, and dives, while we've got are feet on the ground." The two dueted beautifully, Minerva leading with, "Aren't I so much better now? That I'm back, in my old mind?" Minerva asked the wind, turning to the sunset, but not turning fully to Simon.

"Now, that I'm not." Came Simon.

"Now, that I'm not." replied Minerva.

"Now, that we're NOT." They dueted with equal firmness.

"Assisting the calmness."

"Part of the madness."

And then, with one final note, and one final duet.

"Part of the madnesssssss." Came the two, Simon stopped playing the keyboard, Minerva still looking at the sunset.

they sat in silence once more, but this time only for a minute.

"How did you... How did you know that song?" Simon asked, Minerva forming a smile. A real one made of amusement.

"That song, 'Part of the madness' is actually made by a wizard band. We air it regularly on Up-ton radio, actually." Minerva informed, still with her knees pulled up.

"Huh, You-you relate to it too?"

"A little bit."

Simon stood from his icy keyboard, willing it away as it melted into water.

"Well, you did pretty alright, Minerva. I hope you feel better, even if only for a little bit." Simon says, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat next to Minerva.

And she leaned on his shoulder.

Minerva sighed as she said, "This is so unprofessional, Simon."

Simon grimaces slightly at the fact, turning to her and saying quickly, "S-Should we stop then?"

"No, not yet." Minerva chuckled, peacefully closed her eyes, her relaxed body resting on Simon.

The antiquarian smiled, wrapping an arm around her and being content with... whatever this moment is, as he stared off into the sunset.

Notes:

I'm only getting started with this Minerva x Simon stuff! Stay tuned for more! (EDIT. To any of my viewers, would you like to get a chapter of whats happening with Bubblegum and huntress wizard first? Or more stuff between Minerva and Simon? Let me know in the comments!!)

Chapter 35: Broken minds, drunken confessions.

Summary:

Minerva decides to stay the night with Simon, albeit drunk out of her mind from some wine Simon got her, finally getting that good spill in.

'SIMON'S CABIN. 8:30 PM'

The house was filled with the scent of cooking meatballs, hot from the cooking from Simon's kitchen as steam filled the small cabin.

Minerva didn't know why she agreed to this.

She didn't know why she wasn't leaving, or why she was resting on Simon's couch with her shoes off, like she was some kind of... guest.

But she was here.

She turned to her side, looking at her helper hat on the coffee table, feeling that guilt rise up within her once more.

But at least this time, she had some company to keep her from spiraling.

"Hey Minerva! You like parmesan on your spaghetti?" Came Simon from the kitchen, mixing bowl in hand.

Minerva sat up, responding with a, "Yeah, parmesan is fine!" Simon retreating back into the kitchen to finalize the tomato sauce.

As Minerva lied back down on the couch, staring at the ceiling and going over everything she did today.

She nearly committed suicide.

She had a schizophrenic, mental breakdown in her patient's bathroom.

She, the therapist, had to be comforted by said patient, like she was a some... some... child seeking comfort from their parent.

And sang with said patient, about not being part of the madness of giving away your humanity to help other people.

Overall, todays been a mess.

"Glob. Where did I go wrong?" Minerva asked, closing her eyes and putting a hand on her forehead, trying to sooth the storm of emotions inside.

An hour would fly by, mostly filled with sound of stoves, steam and Simon's occasional yelps about tomato sauce on his clothes.

The icy antiquarian finally comes out the kitchen, his sleeves stained with the said sauce and meat bits from the meatballs.

But in his somehow not burning hands, he carried a giant plate of steaming spaghetti, alongside plates underneath, placing them as neatly as possible on the coffee table.

Minerva sat up, noticing Simon's nonexistent urgency to place the hot plate down.

"Y-you just gotten that out the pot, right?" Minerva asked, pointing to the plate of spaghetti, Simon pulling some plates for the both of them.

"Yeah? What about it?" Minerva's face widens in surprise, replying with, "Shouldn't it be too hot to hold?"

Simon was too busy getting napkins from under the coffee table, saying, "Huh? Oh, I-I uh, don't really feel intense heat anymore. It's a... magical thing."

Simon trails rather awkwardly, still trying to find the napkins, Minerva looking at Simon with awe.

She felt the gears in her scientist mind, eyes gazing at Simon with this hint of... wonder.

His blue skin.

His snowy white hair that peeked from the table, those rad lightning eyebrows that made him seem almost... mythical.

His control over ice and snow was something completely foreign to her.

"And he's so damn casual about it," she whispers, immediately trying to look normal as Simon pulled up from the table, handing Minerva a plate.

"So, you wanna talk about it now?" Simon inquired softly, making himself a plate, Minerva looking down at the floor.

She didn't know how to talk about it.

She didn't really want to, which confused her after hugging on Simon earlier.

So, she tried changing the subject.

She picked up her fork, twirling some spaghetti around the utensil, eating it.

The flavor was surprisingly sweet, like the tomatoes Simon used were fresh, the hint of sweetness melding well with the seasoned meatballs.

"You like it?" Simon asked noticing Minerva's surprised expression.

"Yes, it is rather good, Petrikov." Minerva informs, retreating back to her formal ways out of impulse.

"Please, just call me Simon, Minerva. We're not still in therapy, are we?" Simon joked kindly, Minerva smiling slightly.

"I guess it depends on who exactly receiving the therapy right now." Minerva quipped, resting her head on her hand, Simon nervously pulling his collar as he chuckled along.

"Y-yeah, I actually got the sauce from tomatoes I grow." Simon chuckled, redirecting the therapy comment from Minerva.

"Oh?" Came Minerva.

"Yeah, I thought I'd learn to y'know, live off the land a bit. Trying to learn new things that aren't just, Ice magic creations and magic artifacts."

Minerva listened intently to this information, smiling again at her therapy working for Simon's wellbeing.

Then, this awkward silence passed between the two, not really knowing how to interact.

It spanned for about a minute.

Then, Minerva finally spoke after a minute, "Hey, do you have anything to drink?" She asked, Simon pipping up from the silence.

"Yeah? Y...yeah! I do." Simon chirped, adjusting his glasses as he stood up, heading to the kitchen.

Minerva sat patiently, continuing to eat her spaghetti alone.

"HEY MINERVA? WE ONLY HAVE WINE, IS THAT OKAY?!" Simon shouted from the kitchen, sounding like he was 5 feet deep in his fridge.

"That'll be fine, Simon!" Minerva turned her head and shouted back.

"You sure you won't get drunk? I'm not trying to get you buzzed out of your mind!" Simon asked urgently.

"It's alright, I know I can handle my fair share of alcohol." Minerva turning her head, again as she replied with little bit of confidence.

Simon in the kitchen, reluctantly pulled down some paper cups, pouring some for Minerva, but not for himself.

Just in case he had help a drunken Minerva down the road.

He came out with the drink, nudging Minerva on the shoulder as she turned, hand shaking slightly as he nervously offering her the wine.

Which Minerva took calmly, giving Simon a reassuring smile.

"Really, I'll be fine. I used to drink wine regularly with a... former lover all the time." Minerva said with subtle sorrow. " But, if it makes you feel better, I'll only have one cup." Minerva jested, Simon taking his seat and eating his spaghetti, watching with faded breath as Minerva drank.

The cup lay empty on the table, Minerva resumed back to eating her pasta like nothing happened, Simon taking a mental sigh of relief.

 

And then, not even ten minutes later.

 

Minerva was sprawled across the couch, spaghetti mostly eaten as she looked up at the ceiling dazed out of her fricking mind.

"Hey, heyyyyyyyyyy, Simonnnn???" Minerva asked while looking at the ceiling still, Simon reluctantly turning to the wasted Minerva for the tenth time.

"Yes, Minerva?" Came a panicked antiquarian, giving the fakest smile ever.

"Didddy yo know, that Up-ton has approximately 300 Minerva bots?" Minerva slurred, looking at multiple Simon's with glassy eyes.

"Why no, I didn't know that." Simon responded the nicest he knew how.

"Yes, yes! All those robot ME's, flying around helppping my peeps?" Minerva sputters as she waved her hands in the air, pretending they were Minerva bots.

"Y'know, It-Hick! kinda narcissistic-y of me to make a bunch of me's being superheroes. Like I'm even a hero at all! Isn't that selfish, Simo-mone?"

"It's Simon, sweetheart." The antiquarian responds with a smile hiding the pain he was watching.

"ALSO! ALSO! Diddd you kn-hick! Knowknow that there are 1000 peeps in Up-ton right now that ar-Hick! Have kiddies??" Minerva slurred while holding her hands up, grasping at air.

"Like children, Minerva?" Simon agreed, holding up a shaky finger up.

"Yeah? YEA, YEAH! L-LIKE THAT!!" Minerva immediately snapped up, snapping her fingers at Simon like he just said the rightest thing ever.

"Welll, now we can probably butt that number down to 999 todayyy, because I fucking killed one!!" Minerva joked, Simon immediately getting up and putting his hands on his head, walking to the wall.

Simon stood away from the table, looking at the wall as if he lost his wallet, regret plastered over his blue face with frozen sweat dripping down, desperately trying to keep a smile.

"Oh betty, If only you could see the shit I'm dealing with." Simon whimpered.

"Yeah! I killed one!! A CHILD WITH HOPES AND DREAMS, AND I LET THEM DOWN!! literally." Minerva shouted, switching to emotionally distressed to cheery, Simon looking back at her in worry, eyes twitching.

"YEAH AND... AND... I cried alot lot, Simon." Minerva slurred with a hint of sadness behind it.

"I C-CRIED, I CRIED, I CRIED, AND I SCREAMED AND SCREAMED!!" Minerva rants, clutching her hair like her own voice was too loud to bear, tears forming once again, Simon's heart twisting with each letter, sitting back at the other couch.

He didn't want to, but if taking one cup of red wine was the way to get her to open up, then so be it.

"W-what did you do?" Simon asked cautiously, leaning forward.

Minerva lied her back on the couch once more, tears flowing freely.

"I...I, uhhhhhhhh... I ttook a knife." Simon's heart immediately dropped at that trembling sentence; eyes widened with shock.

"No... y-you'd never," Simon whispered under his breath, covering his mouth with a hand, like his concern was offensive.

"Andd...I was gonna just...fall on the floor... with a knife to my chest. Isn't that silly of me? Simon?" Minerva asked to the antiquarian, his mouth still covered by a trembling hand, eyes filled with shock at the suicide Minerva mentions.

But, with what little courage, he uttered, "A..And how long has this been going on??" Minerva wiped a tear from her glassy eye.

"Ohhh, I've only done that recently... Its manily been days and nights and days of nights, me just... drifting."

"Finally given freedom to do what I want, and I spend it moping. Yo, why does that sound familiar??" Minerva asked, putting a finger on her cheek rather cutely.

Simon looked at her form, realizing something grim.

"It's because that's what I'm going through." Simon voiced, realization, the kind where you discover something hideous, strikes the pseudo ice elemental.

He put a hand on his temple, looking at Minerva in a new light.

"You mentioned a... lover, right? What's up with him?" Simon asked, not wanting to pry, but Minerva was drunk enough to spill her life story.

"Hehe, nothingggg much!! Just heeee was a patient of mine, gotten injured, tried escaping the goddamn hospital, he charmed me, supported me, had a kid with me and just...boop! gone with my kid, and like the wind!!" Minerva gotten out, flushed out of her mind.

"Боже мой." Simon whispered, trying to comprehend this news, looking away from Minerva for a moment.

And as he was processing the trauma behind the mask of Minerva campbell, Simon heard something.

Snoring.

He snapped back around, Minerva was passed out drunk on his couch, all from one red wine.

Simon's face softened, adjusting his glasses and already moving to get Minerva blankets.

"Glob, Is everyone around me some degree of traumatized?" Simon asked jokingly, in a pitiful attempt to soothe himself after playing therapist tonight.

 

'CANDY CASTLE LAB. 3:00 AM.'

Cold.

So cold.

In one of the labs of the candy castle, away from the eyes dum-dum candy citizens, was a candy cane cage sat at the window.

freezing in the cage, Huntress wizard lies naked across the candy floor of her confinements, twitching still in her beast state.

Her leafy hair was a mess with torn leaves even, her branches covered with cuts, her turquoise skin was plagued with bruises and wounds from countless hours of experimentation.

She felt nothing but numbed agony, mostly on her back and sides, the cold attacking her skin. She was parked at the window, the dark blue view filled with stars almost mocking her desire for escape, for freedom.

And then was her new collar.

It shined in the moonlight along with her injuries, golden and glimmering with dread, a small lightning bolt indicating it was to shock the urge of escaping out of her.

She was forced into captivity, forced into an unfamiliar environment, one that didn't have trees.

Or lesser animals to feast on.

Or Human Man meat to claim.

It was a constant assault on Huntress's body and mind, the days feeling like decades in this cold solitude.

And then...A creak came from the door.

Huntress wizard's eyes widened in terror as she heard footsteps, walking towards her cage.

And unlocked it.

She felt licorice wrap around her neck, her numb body used to the pull, yet still trembling.

she was on her knees to her master; her feral eyes gazed at the figure in front of her.

A pink dress.

A lab coat, whiter than snow.

And her big round glasses, pink hair tied behind, her face calculating and cold.

Bubblegum looked down at Huntress like she was her latest toy, eyeing her with a slightly curious light.

"We've tried everything, haven't we? Mind splicing, shock therapy, trigger words. None of them seem to keep you under complete control." Bubblegum detailed with frustration, pulling Huntress wizard face forcefully to hers, sweat dripping down Huntress's brow.

"Eh, no matter." Bubblegum shrugged, turning to the operation table as she yanked Huntress wizard to it, unable to fight back after countless shocks.

She was strapped to the table, pressed against its hard surface uncomfortably, Bubblegum looking through one of the cabinets and pulling out some black, tech helmet, complete with a visor to block out HW's eyesight.

She jammed the helmet down on her face, forcing it tightly to barely fit her pesky branches, Huntress whimpering at each amount of force.

"Well, the closest we've gotten was the mind splicing slash shock therapy, so how about we continue with that, eh Huntress?" Bubblegum asked cheerfully, Huntress just watching in fear, even squirming as Pb put the helmet on her head, hearing all too familiar sound of a taser charging up, along with wires being plugged into the back.

She grunted.

She yelled.

She squirmed.

But she couldn't talk, couldn't tell Pb to stop.

Because talking was for people, and in Bubblegum's eyes? She was nothing more than what Huntress wanted to be.

An animal.

One that needed to be tamed.

Notes:

Heyyyyyy, Sorry for the late upload, hopefully I'll have the next chapter ready by the weekend. Enjoy the trauma folks!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 36: Everyone needs help. Even helpers

Summary:

Minerva wakes ups from the drunken night, Simon knowing what she spilled and deciding to confront and comfort her about it. In the most Simony way he can of course.

'SIMON'S FRONTYARD. 5:30 AM.'

Minerva's hovercar lay silently, its round shape gleaming in the early rays of sunshine over Ooo, the slick white color blending in beautifully with the rising sun.

It sat there, not active at all as it waited for its owner to ride it again.

Until...

WHAMMM!!!!

Came a fast falling grey and red blur crashed into Minerva's beautiful ride, crumbling the vehicle in seconds.

It sparked weakly with electricity, its headlights smashed, and the dashboard was completely smothered.

Though what- or who lied there in the rubble, was a gray skinned, young wizard with a terrible white mohawk, and even worse flying carpet skills.

He put a hand to his bruised head, groaning slightly as he slowly sat up.

"Man, this new carpet's kinda doodoo, not gonna lie." Moaned the dude, slowly looking over to his new red carpet he bought.

which he had to replace, ever since some... some goober in glasses clocked him in the face and stolen his purple one.

Oh, what the fuck I'm leading you on for? It's fucking Ash!

Ash looked around, his eyes locating a cabin across from him, the hovercar parked outside the wooden fence.

"Shit!" He blurts as he put a hand to his head, his expression written with getting caught.

"Welp, not taking responsibility for this!" He says to himself, immediately getting on his red carpet to fly away.

Only it wasn't going anywhere.

He stomped his gray foot on the thing, angrily shouting, "GO CARPET, GO CARPET, GO!!"

The carpet, after tanking such abuse, eventually hovered off the ground and into the sky, away from the cabin and away from responsibility.

"Phew!" Ash sighed in relief as his carpet took flight. "Not dealing with that hot mess," He quipped as he flown above the trees.

 

'SIMON'S CABIN. 5:35 AM'

The house was merely quiet.

Well, except for the snoring of both Simon Petrikov and Minerva Campbell on the couch.

Minerva slept lazily on the couch, head buried into a pillow alongside her blonde hair being slightly a mess.

Though she was instinctively hugging the pillow as she snored cutely, as if the pillow was anchoring her in sleep.
The blankets Simon covered her with remained despite the night's events, Minerva luckily doing not that much shifting as she slept.

Whereas with Simon, he slept sitting up.

Slumped slightly, but sitting up, nonetheless.
His glasses nearly falling off his face, holding on for dear life from his left ear.
He had an actual icicle of saliva coming out of his mouth, alongside a book in his face that also held his glasses on his face, and his right hand resting on Minerva's side.

The two were contently sleeping near one another, the world beyond the cabin, beyond their minds being absent from them.

Until, unfortunately. Minerva started to stir.

"Mmmhh, huh?" she moaned slightly, her eyes groggily opening to her surroundings, her vision a bit blurry and unfocused.
She looked to the coffee table, seeing her helper foundation hat sitting there, ready to be put back on Minerva's head.

Her sleepy eyes glazed lazily around the living room until landing on something familiar.

Horrifyingly familiar.

"M̵̙͓͙̭͕̀̒̉͒̓͌̀̈́͐̾̃́͜͝͠h̵̛̜͔̬̳͇̰͙̍͆̌͐̌̌̚͝h̵̩̬̖̩̼͓̞͖͂̀̾̀̅a̵̢̡̹͚͂̔̈͗̽ư̴̢̬͔͙̙̜͎̤͕̜̰͛́͊͆̅̒G̶͚̹̊͋̾̈́̀̈͆̈́̓ḩ̶͎̱̜̮̥͍̗̙̯̥̦͖͆̄͋̂̉͗̆̅̿̋̿̿̚̚͝ĥ̸̜̈͑̆̉̉̑͒͊̓̑̾͋̕ū̶̡̡̢͉͚͚̝̹͚̹͛̿̄̔͌̀͝h̵̺͠h̸̢̡̧̬̜̮̳̪̳̣͉͚̦͒̑̂̂̑̌̿̉̽ͅ,̸̡̦͙̹̖̆̇̒̌͗̈́̒̋̇̀͒̍̓͐̃ ̶̩̝͙̝̫̂̽̽̒̃̏͋͠͠ͅM̸̱̞̦̾̀̈́̎̏ͅa̸̜̩͍͇͋̆̔̇̎͌͂̒̔̌̏̾͠-̵̘̩̎̑̈̚M̶̨̺̘̰̲͚̲͕̬͔̪͑͆̓̃̆̔̓̊͂͘a̶̛͖̜̦͙̯͒͑̈́͛̊̈͂̈̇̾͑͊̕͠m̸̨̞͖̪͈̫͒́͐͊̿͑̒́̋͋̚͘å̸̧͚̟̟͙̯̪̗͚̎̋͑̌͒͛̿͆͊̈́͝͠ͅ,̴̡͇̫͎̖͚̻̖̺̂͋͂̔ ̶̬͚̱̫̠̝̹͈̥̠͍͂̒̀̉̈́̆̑̑͛̆͘͘͝͝͝M̴̢̡͎͖͙͕̲̣̹̝̗̮̦͕̀̾́́͑̐̈́̒͗ã̷̤͙͖̖̝̘̾̃̑̃̀̌̆ͅm̴̨͍̞̣̹̖͇̞͎͆́͊̓͗̕͘͜ą̸̧̛̛͖̤͈̠̝̲̜̞̒̌͑͒͘͜͝ͅͅ.̶̡̟̝͔͙͍̭̘͖̱̠͎̀̂͂͂̈̋̈́́̾͘̕," Came an unsettling groan from behind the second couch, Minerva's eyes filling with dread as she raised her head slightly.

A familiar, bloodied arm came from behind the couch, pulling itself closer to reveal itself as the same guilt hallucination kid from yesterday.

Minerva watched feverishly as it snapped its neck to her direction, uttering the chilling phrase, "Ḧ̴̡̭͈̜̥̪́́ą̵̛̛̮̹̬͖̳̰͈̲͍͎̦̄̓̂̓̍̚͜͝v̸͈̺̖̩͎̩̘̭̱̈́͛̏̄͛́͘e̴̡̳̣̩͔̿̿̈́̚͝ ̷̢̛̯̦͖̌̐̑̀͆̑̈̐͘͝ỳ̶̬̟̙͖͕͚̱̝̓̄̍͗͑͗͝ō̶̺͇̘̍̎̇̿̉͠u̶̜̲̥̥͍̜̒͂̂͛͋́̓̃͐̃̌͝ ̸̡̧͓̣̩̫͂̉̑̌͑̀̌̿̀̍̋̈́͒͘s̷̨̤͈̥̯̠̤̭̜͑͆̑́̑̈́͌͊̉͘ḙ̵̡̡̨̨̝̯̞̣̫̫̖̗̆̀͑͊̋͌e̵̟̫̥̺͉̪̲̲̻̱̩͐͆̕n̷̨̘̘̼̦̩̪͊̇̈̿̈́͘ ̶̥̻̎̇́͐̾̔̋͆̓̇͋̇m̷̨̢̲̘̥̱̥̰͉̪̽̇̿y̷̬̜̅̓̌̋̎͐̓̓̄̀̽̓̕͝ ̶̧̮̤̗̻̖͕̱̱̪͔̈̓̒̽͂͠ͅm̷͎̖̩̗̄̏̉̂͐̂̊̇̎̿̾͘a̵̧̡̗͖͚̠͇̖̔ͅm̷̡̰̹̯̣̻̖̼̍́̒̀́͝ą̵̹̬͈̯̳̮̂̑̀̾̆̀̓̕͝?̴̙̐̽̐̇̓̽́̋͌̕"

"SHIT!!" Minerva yelped as she immediately jumped up, the covers flying off her body as she unintendedly leaned into Simon's sleeping form.

Minerva, heavy in her breathing turned over to Simon, slightly astonished by his lack of reaction as he was still asleep.

But also, at the icicle coming out of his mouth, her eyes scanning up and down at this... anomaly.

She looked around the living room for that... demon kid.

Only to find it, gone?

Minerva curled up on the couch, putting her head to her knees as she pulled her legs closer, muttering, "Why should I go insane over wanting to be happy? Don't I deserve a break?"

But as she was muttering this question to the universe under her breath, a spark of coldness was felt on her shoulder, Minerva jumping again and turning to...

Simon, as he retracted his hand and saying, "Sorry. didn't mean to scare you."

He looked like he also just gotten up, still rubbing his eyes as he placed the book on the coffee table, also standing up and plucking out the icicle with a tired, pained, "Owwie."

Simon, as he was rubbing his cheek, glances over at Minerva.
"Oh, uh... I was expecting you've left while I was sleeping. N-not that you had to! but... this is just my way of saying, good morning, Minerva."

Simon got out in a mouth full, Minerva chuckling at the awkwardness of his extended rambling.

"Good morning to you too, Simon." Minerva yawned, stretching her arms to the sky.

Though, Minerva's eyes followed the antiquarian as he stood up, fogging his glasses with his own frosty power, again with the ease as if it was second nature.

Simon peeked his head up from cleaning his glasses, replying to Minerva's staring with a, "Yeah, icicle drools the worst. Really puts the bite in frostbite, if you know what I mean." Simon joked.

"Pfft, AHAHAHAHAHA!!" Came Minerva's laughter at the stupid joke, her face turning red as Simon's darkened with a shade of dark blue.

"Y-you, actually found that funny?" Simon asked, taken aback at Minerva's outburst.

Minerva sits up from the couch she fell into, trying to find the words.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I know it's stupid but-." Minerva stopped as she looked at Simon, then at her shoes placed near her on the couch, and her lab coat placed on the other couch, now noticing its presence.

"What happened last night?" Minerva asked Simon, he face twisting with guilt as a hand flew to the back of his head, scratching his white hair nervously.

"Oh, gee... How do I say this?" Simon started, Minerva already getting a bad feeling stirring.

Simon clasped his hands together, pointing at Minerva with his pointing fingers as he asked, "You've gotten drunk over a cup of wine."

Minerva, doesn't even respond to the news, wandering over to Simon's kitchen, her eyes landing on the trashcan near the stove.

She opened the lid and found a mostly eaten plate of spaghetti, a fully eaten plate of it, and a singular cup with a lingering drop of wine.

Minerva immediately put together the dots as Simon followed her into the kitchen, worry plastered on his face as Minerva faced him with this look of, 'Oh shit, what the Frick! did I do last night?'

Because Minerva wasn't stupid, far, FAR from it actually.

She knew when people get drunk, their more likely to say whatever's on their mind, with their mind in such a flushed state.

"Minerva... have you been, thinking about harming yourself lately?" Simon asked nervously, Minerva snapping around to the antiquarian fidgeting his fingers, like a child who caught their parent doing something unusual.

"I... How much did I spill last night?" Minerva raised an eyebrow, her tone more suspicious as Simon pulled his neck sleeve slightly.

"Well for starters," Simon began as he pulled a chair from the kitchen table, "You were rambling about how you killed a kid for wanting to relax. To be human."

Minerva's face was growing red from embarrassment as Simon continued.

"You were... relatively upset about it all, like you were laughing, pain laughing about it. And then sobbing."

Simon put his hands in his hair as he looked down, like he couldn't say this directly to her.

"You were talking about wanting to kill yourself with a knife, Minerva. Falling down with it near your chest."

Minerva's heart dropped at the callback.

Her legs trembled as she stumbled to the kitchen table, pulling out a seat for her to sit at.

Simon watched her, feeling the amount of shame coming off her from being so... reckless.

He places his hands on Minerva's trembling ones.

"You ever just... let people see you?" Simon asked, he voice barely above a whisper, his cool hands soothing his therapist.

"As a... doctor. A therapist. And a former mother, I'm obligated to not put my feelings on others." Minerva retorts matching Simon's gaze.

"My guess is... that I've taken care of people so long, feared failing them that I've failed to take care of myself."

Simon looked down at the floor, taking in this information.

And looked back up to Minerva, deciding to ask, "Have you ever thought about going back to being an AI?"

Minerva's face contorted with shame as she nodded.

"Hmm, You ever... I dunno, try to make what you came out of seem not that bad or even thinking you need it?"

Minerva lifted her chin up, nodding again with slightly less shame.

"I see." Simon pondered, looking to the side before looking back at Minerva.

"Then I ask you one more question, something I asked myself when I nearly relapsed into wearing the crown again. Do you care about yourself?"

Minerva's face peeked up at Simon from the direct question, the doctor looking down at her hands, her human fleshly hands that she'd promised to enjoy.

But spent them for holding all of her tears.

"I honestly don't think I do, to tell you the truth." Minerva said wearily, closing her eyes and resting her hands on the sides of her chair.

"Then, we start right now." Simon announced standing up Minerva's eyes following his movements.

Simon's face would shift from mock confidence and determination, to cringing slightly, even chuckling at the forced tough guy look.

"Glob, I'm starting to sound like your son," He giggled, Minerva's frown turning into a slight smirk.

"Look, take it from me. I may not be a therapist, but I know that a speech and basic understanding isn't going to make those bad feelings and suicidal schemes disappear overnight." Simon explained, offering a blue hand.

"But... I know companionship and communication will. Or at least make the madness livable." Simon concluded, Minerva's eyes squinting at her patient as she took the hand and stood to his level.

But, not before saying, "And where did you learn that, Hmm?" She sassed.

Simon chuckled, retorting with, "From life experience, and a certain bright and happy therapist."

Minerva, once again laughed openly at Simon's humor, putting a hand over her mouth.

"Hey, I can't be that funny. besides, you eventually snow all the ice jokes in the book." Simon joked, more purposely, Minerva's face going red as she covered her mouth with both hands, struggling to contain her amusement.

After about a minute of laughter, and Simon making some puns out of tissues that he gotten for Minerva, she finally said, "Hey, how about I'd just... go home y'know. Kinda overstayed the therapy session by a little." Minerva weakly jested, giving a small smile to Simon as he removed his hand.

"Yeah, you do look like you need a break from are therapy to comedy thing." Simon jested as Minerva walks out of the kitchen, but not before Simon speed walks behind her and whispers, "Or we can call are chats, Ice breakers."

Minerva immediately ran away, grabbing and hastily equipping her shoes on and grabbing her lab coat and hat, finally heading to the door.

"I-Hehe, I'll see you later, um. Simon." Minerva gotten out barely, Simon waving and replying with, "Same time next week, if it's okay."

And with that, Minerva walked out the door, Simon feeling pretty proud of himself for being able to help his therapist of all people.

 

Until he heard...

 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A gut-wrenching, ghoulish scream came from outside, Simon immediately rushing out the door to help, only to find Minerva.

Hands grasping her blonde hair, turned and facing her destroyed hovercar, Simon even flinching at the damage.

And suddenly, Minerva's hands fell to her sides.

"That was... My only ride home." She mentioned bleakly, Simon walking towards her, rubbing her shoulder.

"Yeah, keep doing that." She said blankly, Simon looking up at the sky and forming a small, knowing smile.

"Hey, uh... I may know another way you could get back to Up-ton?" Simon began to suggest, Minerva's distraught, pale face slowly turning to the antiquarian.

"What do you have in mind?" She asked in defeat, Simon's lips opening to answer.

Notes:

A chapter is still scheduled for this weekend. Stay tuned.

Chapter 37: Sparks of something else...

Summary:

Simon helps Minerva to get back to Up-ton, alongside helping with fixing her hovercar. But Minerva starts to see something more in her patient.

'SIMON'S FRONTYARD. 5:50 AM'

"Can't you get one of your helpers to fly you home?" Simon suggested, Minerva looking down at the ground.

"Simon, I may be able to control them, but my reach isn't limitless. I only maintain that link to them when I'm in Up-ton or right next to a Minerva bot." Minerva explained, Simon adjusting his glasses as he processed another idea as Minerva brainstormed as well.

Well, a bit more openly than him.

"Maybe I could, build a satellite with a big enough single to cause a disturbance? No, don't have the materials. Maybe I couldddd, somehow fix the hovercar? Without any gear, without any finances? Shit, another dead end." Minerva muffled annoyingly, covering her face with her hands out of habit.

But Simon?

Had a bit of a more... fun idea.

Minerva looked over to Simon for any ideas, only to find the pseudo ice elemental grinning slightly, his hands clasped in front of him.

She arched a brow, immediately suspicious. “You’re standing like you’ve either broken something or planned something.”

Simon smiled innocently, looking up at the sky. “It’s not broken. It’s just... a new idea.”

“Oh boy,” she said, amused. “Lay it on me.”

“I was thinking,” he started, stepping closer, “instead of taking your hovercar back to Up-ton… what if I just... flew you?”

Minerva blinked. “Flew me?”

“Yeah!” Simon’s voice was almost giddy. “Like, bridal style. I flap the ol’ hair-wings, you hold on, and we zip straight up to the city.”

Minerva gave him a long look. “Hair-wings, Simon?”

“Yeah, believe me I know it sounds ridiculous. But it'll be fun.”

“You’re suggesting I ditch my perfectly safe hovercar... for aerial hair-powered travel?”

“Well, the car IS damaged after all." Simon retorted, playfully pulling down his glasses to look at the destroyed vehicle behind her.

She crossed her arms. “And how do I get the hovercar back?”

“You’re Minerva Campbell. You’ve got like thirty assistant bots. Just call one to pick it up once you get in range.”

Minerva opened her mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t wrong.

“Simon, this is absurd.”

“Exactly,” he said again, leaning forward, grinning. “And you, Miss Therapist Supreme, told me that sometimes it’s healthy to act on impulse and reconnect with fun.”

Minerva narrowed her eyes. “That’s unfair and you know it.”

“And yet...” Simon bent slightly, sweeping her up into his arms before she could respond. “You’re not stopping me.”

"What the-?!" Minerva yelped—actually yelped—as her feet left the ground, and she instinctively looped her arms around Simon’s neck.

She looked up at Simon in awe, feeling his arms hold her tightly, giving her some reassurance that she's in good hands.

Icy hands, but hands, nonetheless.

"S-simon?" She whimpered, not really knowing why.

"You'll be alright, Minerva. Just to Up-ton and nothing more, no funny business." Simon swore, Minerva mostly consumed by the fact he was holding her.

And finally...

PHOOWWWH!!!!

Came Simon's hair, as it flapped against the ground, grass bending at its strength, rising a few inches off the ground, as Minerva increased hers around Simon.

PHOOWWHH!!!

Came the second flap, Simon levitating higher into the air as his feet left the ground, Minerva looking down to see how far up they were.

PHOOWWWHHHH!!!!!

Came the final flap, Simon soaring off with Minerva Campbell in his arms.

'THE SKIES. 5:55 AM'

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Came Minerva Campbell, screaming into the clouds as Simon zipped through them.

She was clutching Simon's body like it was a lifeline, the idea of falling squirming through her mind like an unwanted brain worm.

"Hey, you did want to get back to Up-ton as soon as possible, right?" Simon inquired, Minerva just tucking her face into Simon's chest.

"YES, BUT COULD YOU SLOW DOWN??!!" Minerva asked fearfully as she clutched Simon as hard as she could.

The antiquarian's lightning eyebrows furrowed in regret, not wanting to place any worry or uncertainty after everything she shared previously.

Minerva's grip would remain tight until...

Simon slowed.

Minerva inched her head from Simon's suit and bowtie, looking around to see that Simon listened to her pleas for slower travel.

"We can take it slow. Sorry Minerva." Simon quickly apologizes, but Minerva's eyes weren't on him.

Her eyes landed on- well, the land that was below her.

The many, many beautiful green trees that a certain wizard used to call home, riverbeds noticeable somehow from this high up, even Geese flying by the two during their travel as the cool breeze grazed Minerva's skin.

But it wasn't just that.

Simon held Minerva, flapping his hair against the winds to strode through the clouds like a dove.

His head focused on what was in front of him, steering purposely towards Up-ton.

Minerva, on the other hand, who originally was really skeptical of Simon flying her to Up-ton and even screamed at his initial speed.

Was now weirdly entering a state of... calm?

Minerva's shoulders relaxed, her ragged breaths and panic long gone, her eyes admiring the person who was carrying her like she was his princess.

The strength of Simon's strong arms effortlessly lifting her through the skies.

The constant, slow, lazy flapping of Simon's white hair, though admittedly ridiculous, filled Minerva with a sense of... wonder.

The way he was so casual all this time about his magic, in spite of this same magic cursing him once upon a time.

The way she was... held.

She wasn't the one holding someone else through a painful flu shot.

She wasn't the one consoling an Up-ton resident on their mental problems.

She wasn't holding someone else's struggle.

Someone was holding her, taking care of her if you will.

A person- no, a-a magical man who saw the real her behind the cheery therapist/doctor, that magical man who saw the cracks and broke them.

But didn't repel from what he saw.

Who hugged instead of condemning.

Who listened instead of guilt tripping.

Who was flying her through the skies like he was her guardian snow angel... or something.

And now, stirring something... odd, within Minerva Campbell.

Minerva just stared at Simon, the antiquarian too focused on the skies ahead to notice her admiration.

His blue, almost mythical skin.

His snowy white hair.

Her face began to feel... hot.

Really hot.

She slowly reached a hand to her left cheek, feeling the red that was probably there, alongside her chest to check her heart.

which was doing jumping jacks.

She didn't know why, but she... tucked her head back into Simon's chest, not out of fear.

But just to feel him closer.

Closer to this-, this magical man who could barely bended frost before under a curse, and now did it like it was second nature.

She closed her eyes, her blushing face tucking itself softly into Simon, the moment feeling like it could last forever as she whispered into the wind, "Hold me."

Until it ended.

"HERE WE ARE! UP-TON!" Simon announced, a little bit of ice kingyness in his voice.

Minerva was so... infatuated, she didn't even notice the buildings, or her city as She reluctantly looked down.

As he drifted to the rooftops, she felt Simon's cool hands on her shoulders, gripping her as she was placed firmly on the one of the rooftops, that stupid teen girl blush still plastered on her face.

Simon was still floating a few inches off the ground, dusting off anything off Minerva's lab coat, hat, hair and shoulders.

"Alrighty! Now you can summon the Minerva bots to get your hovercar here, so we can get it some proper repairs." Simon said aloud, more than happy to help.

Though Minerva just stared at the blue sky, lost in thought.

The moment was gone just as soon as it came.

It felt so weird, so thrilling, so ro-.

"Hey, Minerva? Are you doing, okay?" Simon questioned, Minerva immediately pipping up like someone startled her, her face burning a bright red.

She turned to Simon, attempting to put on the most normal looking smile she could muster.

"G-good, I'm doing good Simon! Don't mind my face, just from lack of oxygen from being so high up." Minerva quickly explained as she pointed to her face with trembling hands, like her life depended on it.

"Your hands are trembling though, Minerva." Simon pointed out, the doctor replying swiftly with, "Just flight nervousness, just something I'm working on by using my hovercar."

Simon, luckily buying the lie, not having seen how nonchalant she was when riding her hovercar.

"Righttttt. So, how about summoning the Minerva bots to pick up your ride, I hate for someone to steal it and sell it for scrap metal." Simon encouraged, Minerva turning to do such, partly to get her ride back, partly to avoid Simon's face right now as her eyes glowed blue.

A few minutes fly by, Simon awkwardly floating there as Minerva concentrated on the bots delivering her ride.

And then...

Three Minerva bots flew towards Simon and Minerva, holding the broken hovercar as a light bulb popped out of its socket.

"Yikes!" Came Minerva and Simon simultaneously, looking at each other awkwardly.

"Master Minerva, your hovercar is suffering from major damage. May we assist in escorting you to the repair shop?" one of the bots asked nicely, Minerva nodding her head in a yes.

She turned to Simon, fiddling with his fingers, as if he'd help regardless of if he was needed or not.

Which she didn't.

Yet for some reason, for some deep reason curled within her core, she found her mouth moving and saying, "Would you like to help, Simon?"

And yes, barely keeping a straight face.

Simon adjusted his glasses, responding with, "Yeah sure, of course I'd help." Simon said casually, already offering a hand to follow the Minerva bots, Minerva's face going red again as she pulled back slightly.

"Uhh, I'd think I'll ride in the broken hovercar! My bots can carry it and won't need to drive, Hehe," Minerva chuckled hastily, already jumping into the crumpled car.

The bots flew north, Simon following them as he muttered, "I'd figure you'd want company to help you overcome your fear of flight, Minerva."

'REPAIR STATION. 6:40 AM.'

The two arrived at the place, the layout having a shiny white gleam to it, the doors automatic with a light blue sign, in the shape of a hover car reading, 'REPAIR YOUR FLIGHT.' In futuristic letters, the font looking quite puzzling to the antiquarian.

"Hehe, keep forgetting how out of touch I am with this place," Simon mentions to Minerva, the two walking in the automatic doors peacefully, whereas the Minerva bots struggled to carry the car into the doors.

The doors couldn't fit the 3 Minerva bots and the broken car, Simon and Minerva swiftly turning around to see them trying to push in the thing.

"Minerva bots, stop!" Came Minerva's voice as she held out a hand, surprisingly firm enough to make Simon flinch.

The copies stop moving, awaiting instruction.

"Just, leave it outside, will come out with the tools needed.

The two walked into the lobby, Simon's gaze drifting around the sleek place, seeing oddly shaped purple plants in vases, floating chairs filed like a normal waiting area, holographic screens on the walls displaying encouragement on getting your car fixed.

Luckily for the two of them, business wasn't active given most of the empty chairs, Minerva making her way up to the counter for supplies.

She pressed the blue button the counter, a small beep playing as the window opened up.

And Simon's eyes widen at who it was.

"Good morning, ma'am. How may I assist y-." Puggy dude's face nearly dropped, seeing Simon.

And possibly... her.

Minerva looked puzzled, seeing the worker visibly afraid, following his gaze to Simon behind her.

"Hey, Puggy dude." He waves. "Long time no see, I see your working two jobs, huh?" Simon notices, the Puggy dude noticeably sweating bullets as he says weakly, "S-she's not here, is she?" referring to Marceline.

"Wait what?" Came Minerva, looking back and forth at Simon and Puggy dude. "You two have some... history?" Minerva questioned Simon, who gave a small chuckle.

"Yeah, Marceline beat the shit out of him when he asked if me and her were a couple." Simon casually elaborates, Minerva looking quite shocked, Simon picking up on this and following up with, "D-don't worry! She seems to not have cause major injury to him." He says, looking behind Minerva to see the Puggy dude give a 'I can explain it myself, dude!' look.

"I dragged her out the store with an ice leash before she could do something... permeant." Simon winced at that last part.

"Uh huh," Minerva responds, turning back to the dude.

"So, after that unnecessary life dump, I ask again. How may I assist you?" The Puggy dude askes again.

"Just some tools to repair the dashboard and some new yellow headlights." Minerva elaborates, Puggy dude retreating to the back to retrieve the stuff.

'ONTOP A ROOF. 7:30 AM.'

There they were, on top the roof they landed on, Minerva was sealing on one of the yellow headlights on the front of the car, handling the sealing device, that bared a resemblance to an electric toothbrush, with practiced experience.

Simon, on the other hand was struggling to rebuild the gold-colored dashboard, floating above the hovercar with a book in hand, and a box of parts in the passenger seat.

"Let's see. The steering wheel goes..." He trails off, locating the driver's seat as he put it in a hole shaped for it.

And then it started to spark.

"Uhh, Minerva?" Simon asked, Minerva's head looking up to seeing sparks coming from where Simon was positioned.

"Coming, Coming!" Minerva yelps, dashing to the- well dashboard.

Simon backed up, letting Minerva do her work as she pulled out another device, one shaped like steel porcupine pin, with a high tech tiny red cone at the end of it.

Simon watches as Minerva uses the steel pin to emit a red light, that forced the sparking to disperse, and the steering wheel hummed to life with a yellow glow.

"Steering. ready for function." Came the automated voice of the hover car, Minerva turning around and handing the steel pin to Simon.

"Just use that if it starts sparking again." She explains, but as she gets out one the doors, Simon comments, "Thanks Minerva. Its Ice to know how intelligent you are." Minerva madly blushing at the joke as she returns to the headlights.

Minutes flew by, Simon figuring out slowly where each part went on the dashboard with each turn of the book he was given. Every button, every lever both on and under the dashboard, figuring out with added guidance from Minerva how to rewire the radio.

Minerva, on her part had successfully replaced the hood and yellow headlights with ease, somehow looking shinier than the previous model.

By 8:30 Am, the two were looking triumphantly at a finished hover car, Simon with his hands on his hips and Minerva holding her hands in front of her.

Though, they both had their clothes polluted with spark dust and ashes.

As the car shimmered with newness, Minerva turned to Simon saying, "Thanks for the help, Though I've could've did it myself."

Simon turned to her, asking if, "Would've you had company if you did it by yourself?" He asked sincerely, Minerva smiling a bit.

"No, I'd don't think I would have." Minerva responds as she looks down at her dirty clothes. "Though, I'm in desperate need of a shower," She noted, eyeing her clothes with disgust as she walked towards the car, pulling out her keys as they jangle in the air.

"But hey! Snow one said car cleaning was Breezy!" Simon joked as Minerva walked away further, trying to start the damn thing so she can facepalm so hard in peace.

Only to get the chilling message, "Insufficient energy core."

"What!?" Minerva shouted in confusion, kicking down the side door and running to the back and lifting the trunk of the car, finding a broken power core.

"Dammit!" She scolded at the thing, Simon already right next to her, fidgeting his fingers as he asks, "What's wrong?"

"The power core seems to be damaged as well." She says right off the bat. "It's supposed to generate infinite energy for the car, but with it broken..." She trailed off, backing up as she lists her options again.

Though Simon merely just stared at it, like it was a broken toy that could be fixed simply.

Because he remembered something.

Recently.

Winter king, sitting on his throne while he sat to some... some, naked bird combing his hair, Winter king saying, "Since I'm giving out gifts, is there anything you desire?" Cake responding with pulling out a phone saying, "You could charge this phone."

To which he chuckles and charges the device with ease.

Flashing back to the present, Simon looked down at his blue hands, feeling the icy electricity run through them.

"You think I could jumpstart it?" He asks Minerva as she stops her pacing.

"Yes, but it needs a very special, super rare wire to keep the energy in. I'm really not sure if... magic could mak-." "ZAPPP!!!!!" Minerva was swiftly interrupted by Simon blasting the car with ice electricity, the icy antiquarian holding out both of his hands as he focused.

Minerva's confusion slowly turned to fascination, As the hovercar was engulfed in blue lightning and began to float off the ground, Minerva even eyeing the broken power core, seeing the tiny broken wire be repaired with an ice one holding it in place.

She squinted at the Miracle, then her eyes widened at what she was witnessing.

When it was done, the car dropped a bit, Minerva looking panicked before.

WHOMMMM!!!!!

Came a low hum from the vehicle, as it floated on its own, but that wasn't what shocked Minerva most.

The yellow headlights? The yellow glow of some of the machinery? The golden hue of the dashboard?

It was replaced with a light blue, like Simon's very conscious was present within the car, keeping it alive.

Simon brushes his hands together, saying casually, "Alrighty, that should do it hopefully."

And Minerva? put her hands to her head and laughed. Hard.

Not in humor.

Not in insanity.

But in sheer, utter, joy!

"HAHAHAHAHA, YOU WERE RADICAL, SIMON!" Minerva joyfully yelled, holding Simon in the air with a bearhug, spinning him around like he was a prize teddy bear.

Simon smile warmly, looking down at Minerva holding him.

"Hehe, I guess I'm, 'radical' I suppose." Simon says, as he flies out of Minerva's arms, the doctor looking up to his floating form.

"So uh, you'll be able to get back home?" He asks, Minerva nods her head happily.

"Yes, the generator should be up and running, annnnnndddd-." Minerva runs over to the driver's seat, revving up the car with her key, and. "Welcome, Minerva. Where would you like to go?" Came that same automated voice.

"YESS!!!" Minerva smiled, snapping her head up to Simon and giving a thumbs up.

Simon wiped a cold sweat off his brow. "PHEW, Good. Well, I'll be off then, Ice seeing you, Minerva!" Simon shouts as he flies away back to his house.

Minerva, just sat there in the car, looking fondly at Simon gracefully flying back home, watching as a man defied logic via his flapping hair.

Then, when he was far enough away, that same heat plagued Minerva's face again, her mind recounting... everything.

Simon's dorky yet charmingly silly nature.

His strength with his magical power.

His willingness to learn and even match Minerva intellectually.

It made her body feel fuzzy, flinching at the unfamiliar feeling. Or something she felt a long, long time ago, something she forgotten the taste of.

"Master Minerva? Are you still there?" asked the automated voice of the car, Minerva immediately snapping out of... whatever she was feeling and flying off in her hovercar.

Though she could still feel the warmth on her face, looking into the mirror above her and seeing the giant, obvious, blush on her face, swiftly looking back down in self-embarrassment.

"Glob, what's happening to me?" Minerva says in disbelief as she flies back to Mini homes to unwind.

And maybe even spiral.

Notes:

"This is going to sound nuts. But I think I've been dreaming about you."

"Haha, I wouldn't be at all surprised. I'm radical."

Chapter 38: "Put one foot in front of the other!"

Summary:

Minerva tries to put her life back together step by step. It isn't a full fix, but it's a step in the right direction. A direction out the dooorrrrrrr!!!!!!

'MINEVRA'S APARTMENT. 7:13 AM.'

"ME-MOW! ME-MOW! ME-MOW!"

Came the white cat clock, but Minerva wasn't going to leave dreamland that easily.

Minerva Campbell's blonde hair was displaced across her pillows, her body sprangled across the bed as her eyes remained shut.

Her body was submerged into her bed underneath the covers, ignoring the blaring alarm clock in the back, which had been blaring 'ME MOW!' for about 3 minutes.

Minerva, after letting out an annoyed grumble, lazily yet angrily slammed a hand on her alarm clock, putting an end to her torment.

Her eyes opened, sitting up to get out of bed, bare feet gripping the carpet floor.

She looked towards the calendar, a barely a week into September, her eyes not wanting to focus on the council meeting she had at the end of the month.

But was focusing on the day of September 5th of Monday.

Three days.

Three days she spent roaming the walls and halls of her apartment, now that the excitement of interacting with someone wore off.

Three days have flown by Minerva Campbell since her little run in with the man of her drea-, I mean Simon petrikov!

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Every day, was just cleaning her house, doing her workout routine, maybe going into Up-ton for supplies and food, and or reading a book at home.

Minerva's mind would be blank, methodical like this was just another procedure.

Another process.

Another motion to wallow through.

VROOOM!!!!!

Came the hum of the vacuum, its round, bulbous, sky-blue shape being relatively near Minerva's hand level as she cleaned her room.

Her carpet floors were vacuumed up, all in the living room, all in the kitchen and bathroom. Everywhere were spick and span as it should be.

Everywhere but her thoughts and mind of course.

As Minerva continues vacuuming her bedroom for any dust, getting under her bed for any trash, in her closet of identical lab coats, going back to clean the bathro-, no she already did that part.

The nonexistent unpredictability should've soothed Minerva. it should've helped her; it should've felt familiar.

But with every push of her vacuum, her arm would become sore.

With every sharp guilt trip within her head, her body would wince instinctively.

With every passing minute, her body was screaming, pleading with her to break away, to enjoy life, to do anything else but be miserable all day.

She would instinctively rub her temples, checking for any dried tears on her face, only to find nothing.

All these thoughts swirled withing Minerva's head, all of them weighing her down, all of them pulling her in different directions.

Until BOOFMM!!!!

Came the thud of the vacuum, Minerva's dazed face looking down to the appliance rammed into the wall, Minerva letting go of the grip indented handle to see her room-.

Was already vacuumed fully.

Minerva's mentally tired eyes looked over the room, the generic room details becoming more noticeable and adding to her mental strain.

It was all the same. Trapped in a boring, endless routine with her cage being constructed out of guilt.

She turned off the vacuum, sinking to the floor and leaning on the wall, her strained eyes staring up at the ceiling fan.

"Why?" She asked to no one.

"Why am I so... stuck?"

"Isn't that why I did this. Isn't that why I wanted freedom?!" Her voice rose in anger. In frustration.

Something that would've took tooth and nail to crawl out of Minerva Campbell, of all people on her best day.

But recently?

It'd been bubbling up, each outburst feeling like a popping bubble over a boiling stove.

Minerva clenched her fists, standing up to go walk towards the bathroom, only for her silly legs to trip over the vacuum.

Her head hit the floor, but so did the vacuum as it blared to life with a, VROOMMM!!!

"WHAT THE-!" Came Minerva, hearing the vacuum's blare muffled as she looked towards it.

The suction was near Minerva's black night gown, sucking it into the machine as the straps on the gown tugged on her skin.

"Shit! get off!" Minerva shouted at the appliance, trying to push the damn thing off with her foot repeatedly, but to no avail.

"Grrr!" She gritted her teeth and growled at the same time, trying to pull the machine off her clothes as desperately as she could, the vacuum almost mocking her attempts by it pulling more of her dress.

"Glob, glob, glob, where's the power off switch?!" She asked frantically, searching up and down on the vacuum, only to find where the sliver switch would've been..

Was replaced with a hole in its stead, little sparks coming out the inconvenience.

"Dammit!" Came Minerva, still trying to push the vacuum off of her as the anger builds.

The Vacuum took more and more of her beautiful black night gown, its muffled hum persisting in spite of Minerva's pushes from her hands and feet.

She squirmed on the ground, rather pathetically, her shoves turning into punches into the machine, a weirdly deep-seated anger fueling her strikes.

She cracked the glass.

She dented the body.

"GODDAMMIT VACUUM, GET OFF!!!" She screamed in protest as she punches, memories flying through her head.

Every time her guilt forced her to be subdued.

Every time she trembled in fear at the same hallucination kid, knowing it was merely an accident deep down.

Every time she attempted to escape this cage of guilt and repression was punished.

And then...

SRAAAPPPPPP!!!!

Came one of the straps of the night gown, both in fact snapping off her shoulders as the night gown sank further into the vacuum.

With that snap, came the realization that her precious night gown was gone, Minerva blanked face in the midst of her struggle.

Followed by a snap more mental from her.

"GGGGGRRRRRRRRRRAAAA!!!!!" Trembled as she screamed, standing up abruptly, hauling the damn vacuum that betrayed her, twisting around and...

CLINNNKKK!!!!!!

Came her window glass as she thrown the vacuum out of her apartment, her night gown going with it as she stood naked.

Minerva stood there, her night gown removed leaving only her bare skin, panting as she caught her breath from yet another outburst.

"Ohh, no, no, no, no..." She muttered, dashing over to her window to see if anyone was injured, hopefully not killed.

"Please don't let it be killed... Glob, please don't." She thought.

Minerva looked down in distress, only to find in the alleyway... Some, Up-ton citizen wearing glasses, gray sweater, sweats and a cone hat, poking at the Vacuum with curiosity.

And then saying...

"Well, all be! This makes some good scrap metal to sell!" He exclaims, pressing a button on his hover car keys to pick up the broken Vacuum.

Minerva slipped her head back into her apartment, standing still at first as she processed her human needs not killing someone this time.

"Oh, crikey." She whispered, still panting from shock, as she looked down to her hands.

Fleshly, human hands.

She stared at them, recounting what she just did. But more importantly, how it was making her feel.

Minerva's therapist mind starts putting together the feelings that ran through her during this moment.

The frustration.

This- this odd, almost electric, primal fury that ran through her body and brought something unlike her out.

And knowing nobody was harmed?

How... good? How good it felt to be angry? To explode, T-To let some it out?

"All this pain, All this isolation." She chuckled, putting a hand to her face as a finger dragged down her lower eyelid. "G-glob. I'm... acting like an animal lashing out from its cage." She points out, a crooked smile forming.

And she wasn't wrong.

Minerva sits on the edge of the bed, recounting everything. Her therapist mind starts reviewing how this whole, 'putting on a mask for others' thing was going, as she saw it for what it really was.

Her mask wasn't an answer, the thought followed by her gripping the sheets.

It was delaying the inevitable, merely locking away the animal until it banged against its cage stronger, harder, until it was finally free.

Minerva looked towards the broken window, her brows furrowing as she got up to go get her lab coat and other clothes.

"Well, I do need me a new window now." She muttered, as she pulled her socks on and located her shoes under the bed.

'UP-TON SHOPPING CENTER. 3:30 PM.'

The ride to the shopping center went by like a blur, she didn't even remember parking the hovercar.

Minerva speed walked past people in one of the shopping centers around Up-ton, not paying any mind to anyone around her.

She was here for one thing.

A new Window.

Not for the beautiful blue, chrome-colored interior, not for any of the other stores that may help with expressing her own interests, not even appreciating the escalator she was riding on.

For the damn window and nothing more.

Minerva found herself repeatedly looking up occasionally, at the signs of each store she walked past, looking for the home improvement store like she'd look for a patient's hospital room.

"Let's see, Nails of the future, VR world, up-date fashio-, HERE!" She pointed at the sign, which was simply a white letter H, reading in black, 'Home fixer. Your Home Depot, for Lowe prices.'

She wandered into the place, The cash register in a black hoodie too busy scrolling on their phone to say hello.

The visit going by like a blur, trying to locate the 48 by 32 size windows, down one of the aisles.

Her eyes scanned for the usual clear colored windows on racks, but it proved to be hard with all the colored windows.

Her eyes squinted slightly, trying to pinpoint her usual.

Until her eyes landed on one, one that caught her... interest.

She turned to the left, looking at the bottom rack to a windowpane that had a dark blue star in the middle, along with a beautiful illustration of the Rod of Asclepius.

"Good, Gloob," Minerva muttered, kneeling to its level to admire its beauty, the detailed illustration of the snake around the, almost shining white staff, something that, not only looked elegant.

But represented her desire to help people.

She reached a handout, using such a base instinct of touch, to feel the coolness of the window, even noticing it didn't leave fingerprints like normal glass.

Minerva Campbell made a decision that day, not one of obligation or for helping someone else.

She made a decision to help herself, treat herself, if you will.

Minerva effortlessly lifted the very heavy window, holding it in one hand as she made her way to the cash register.

But of course, it couldn't just be Minerva causally buying a window for her home, her negative subconscious had to come back with a vengeance.

"Here we are again! Taking advantage of your citizens, trying to act normal when you should still b-."

"Shut up." Minerva said out loud, as if she metaphorically grabbed her thoughts by the balls, the anger building up to the surface on her own mind.

"I'm not doing anything wrong; I'm not making other people's lives worst by simply living! And I'm not taking advantage of anyone if I'm a paying customer!" She yelled to no one, defying these ideas, questioning these chains that held her down for too long.

"But what about-." "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Minerva interrupted herself, screaming at an aisle as if it were her reflection.

But then... Minerva felt a light tap on her shoulder, turning to find the cashier in the black hoodie, who looked oddly lax before, now she looks at Minerva up and down with concern.

"Um Ma'am, are you tweaking out or something?" she asked, a very valid question to a very flustered Minerva.

"Damn, my human embarrassment." She thought to herself, saying to the cashier, "Oh no, I'm here to purchase this windowpane, please?"

The cashier, luckily didn't press further, nodding and gestured to be followed, Minerva trailing along after such an embarrassing outburst.

The purchase went by like a blur, Minerva trying not to think about what she was caught doing.

She handed the money, receiving the window in a case to prevent shattering.

"Thank you kindly!" Minerva brightly exclaims, speed walking out of the store, the cashier watching her walk out with bewilderment.

Minerva walks down the plaza of stores, ignoring them as she was geared focused on her incident in the store.

"Alrighty then, let's just leave the stor-." Minerva paused, looking up to one of the stores that caught her interest.

See these cd's. See cd's from the past, present and present future!

Minerva read this off of the giant Cd disk above the automatic doors, its black gleam with the lines around its radius being a different, bright color, Minerva's eyes once again having another feast to devour.

Minerva looked towards the doors, seeing rows of boxes containing Cd's and records lined up neatly for her exploration.

Her grip on the window tightened, the idea of wasting time tugging at her.

Until her grip loosened.

She made her way into the store, inhaling through her nose the smell of fresh spruce trees as she walked in, closing her eyes to take in the scent.

"Welcome! Hope you like the air freshener, had to convince my boss to put it in for weeks." Came the employee behind the counter, a black haired, Latina woman. She had her hair tied into a ponytail and pink headphones around her neck, along with a robotic green eye, looking casual as all hell.

Minerva's head turned to her, as smile forming as she responds with a, "Hello."

"Looking for anything in particular? Something to focus to, maybe to take a break from all your worries?" She asked cheerfully, Minerva looking back to the rows of boxes, now being able to make out the obvious, Old, new, and present signs hanging above each row.

"Ummm, maybe something for focus and from the past section actually. Preferability something pre-mushroom war era, please?" Minerva asked in faded breath, the lady going back to... well the back.

Minerva would wait patiently until She came back with a good stack of cd's.

"Here we are! These are we carry from pre-mushroom war. Let's see, 1981 The waiting, 1981 lets groove... Oh, we got One foot in front of the other from 197-."

"WAIT, wait. One foot... in front of the other? Thats actually song?" Minerva askes, pretty puzzled by the name.

"Oh, yeah! I hear alot of about people using this as motivation for change. It's sounds really cringey, but it seems help people."

Minerva looked at the cd cover, seeing a ginger, blue eyed, stop motion kid.

But she was eyeing the white Santa Claus looking dude.

"Who's that?" Minerva askes, pointing at the white Santa.

"Hmm? Oh, that's winter warlock! Yeah, he's what you consider, a lonely only jerk." The worker details, putting on an angry face, Minerva cringing slightly.

"But the kid? In the picture? He ends up helping him with this song. You think he looks jolly now?" The worker questions, Minerva watching as she pulls out a picture of Winter warlock before he was redeemed.

"Good glob..." Came Minerva muttered, putting a hand to her mouth as she gazed at the, 'meaner' looking Winter warlock.

But it wasn't just its looks.

It was familiar, like a certain person she knows.

Wonder who that could be??

Minerva picks up the cd, offering it to the cashier. "Oh, you really wanna listen to the cringe, huh?"

"Yes. I, uh, been going through some things I won't share, but maybe some cringe could help me... live a little." She explains vaguely, as she watched the cashier scan the item, instinctively paying.

 

'MINERVA'S APARTMENT. 5:30 PM.'

GRRIINNNNDDDDD!!!!!!!

Came the electric drill in Minerva's hand, making sure that the screws didn't loosen more than they already had.

She was on her second screw for her new, more decorative window, already throwing out the old one as she wiped sweat from her brow.

She looked towards the upper holes she needed to drill in to complete her window, already heading to get a ladder from the kitchen.

Minerva made her way pass her bed, down the hall and took a left to the kitchen, opening up the utility room to find a yellow ladder waiting for her.

But not before seeing the knife holder next to her.

"No. Not now." Minerva muttered, ignoring the memory as she went within the room, pulling out the ladder with surprising ease.

Though, when she went back upstairs...

It was back.

She was walking back to her bedroom, expecting an empty room when she saw the kid.

That same bloodied kid with the banged-up cube haircut.

That same kid she let down.

But now? It was the same kid she was getting sick of.

But that didn't stop her body from trembling, instinctively dropping the ladder, tears forming in her eyes as she gazed at it standing on her bed, leaving no trace of blood.

Her body was acting before her brain could, her mind still haunted by the kid she 'murdered' about a week ago, feeling the urge to just... sit on the floor and curl up into a ball.

But Minerva fought it.

She closed her eyes.

She inhaled deeply, finally applying her therapy knowledge.

"1.2.3.4.5." She counted inhaling and exhaling at each number, the trembling slowing as the fear left.

mostly.

Minerva opened her eyes, seeing the kid was still there staring. But Minerva's sharp eyes gazed at the cd she bought.

It took some mental strength, but she found herself taking one foot, in front of the other to her bed, the sweat falling down Minerva's face.

But she persisted anyways.

She sheepishly snatched the disk, walking over to her nightstand while looking away from the kid, pulling out a small, white device that resembled a phone.

Minerva pressed the side button on said device, summoning two earbuds within a blue glow, alongside a chord with a suction cup at the end of it.

"Perfect." She said, though it held no victory. She plugged the cup into the cd, alongside her earbuds as she resumed her work, trying her best to ignore the kid.

by the time she set up the ladder, she could already hear the lyrics playing.

" 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘰... 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦." Minerva chuckled slightly at Winter's sniffle as she drilled in the next part.

"𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵? 𝘗𝘧𝘧𝘵, 𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢. 𝘞𝘩𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘴... 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱!" Came the ginger boy's voice, Minerva hearing the music come on.

"𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳!!!" Came the boy's voice, Minerva cringing slightly as she drilled.

"𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳!!!"

Minerva smiled, a small yet meaningful smile would form from the simplicity.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵
𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯'
𝘈 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵!"

Minerva listened intently to the lyrics, her scientific mind picking together what she was hearing as the chorus sung.

Was it really that simple? Was it always that simple?

Just... baby steps to being more open, to letting herself be the human she wanted to be?

Then, as the lyrics continued with, "𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥." The lyrics hitting surprisingly close to home, Minerva momentarily halting the drilling as memories of the knife incident played in her head.

"𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦; 𝘉𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯! 𝘈 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥!" Came the ginger boy, Minerva standing to the next step of the ladder, continuing to drill the third hole.

As she continued, she couldn't help but hum along to the lyrics, sparks of this warm happiness spreading due to the simple melody.

"𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳!!!" She hummed along, even playfully raising her hand at each pitch of 'floor'.

She laughed, whole heartedly and warm at such a childish thing.

Though it made her pause before reaching the fourth hole.

When... did she allow herself to be... childish?

She couldn't remember.

But as she was pondering, Winter's part of the song came on.

"𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯...
(𝘖𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰?)
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯?
(𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵)
𝘛𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯? 𝘞𝘰𝘰-𝘩𝘰𝘰!"

The lines stuck to Minerva like glue, a small part of her hating how much this lines up with what she's going through.

She stopped drilling the fourth hole for a minute, staring down at her hands.

"My election? To be reborn?" She recited, thinking of her rebirth from AI to human, from code to flesh.

She clenched her fisted, picking up the drill again to finish the fourth hole.

If Minerva gave herself the chance to be "reborn", she'd vote yes.

And shouldn't regret it.

She finished the fourth drill, her new window finally up and right on time, as the blue moonlight shined on it, Minerva's eyes glimmering with awe.

"𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘳!!!" Came the chorus, Minerva literally dancing down the steps of the ladder while singing the song, not caring how ridiculous she must look.

She twirled gracefully, her lab coat fluttering behind her as she danced to the song.

"Put one foot in front of the other! And soon you'll be walking out the dooooooorr!!!!" Came Minerva, dancing in the moonlight, and completely ignoring the absence of the bloodied kid.

'MINERVA'S BEDROOM. 10:30 PM.'

Minerva finally comes out the shower, after hours of singing her togue off, that damn catchy tune stuck in her head as she danced out the bathroom.

Though, there was one problem.

Her nightgown. Still gone, still inside that broken Vacuum, both of which she forgotten to get replacements for.

"Dammit! Hmmm, there's got to be something in my closet to wear," She exclaims, her naked body moving past the identical lab coats to find something, anything.

And then, as if listening to the song had manifest this.

Minerva's eyes landed on a... white robe?

"Wha-, what's this?" Minerva questions, picking up the thing as it clearly resembled the one Winter warlock wore.

The long sleeves with giant openings at the ends.

Its silky, almost snow-like texture.

"This... shouldn't be here." She said, Minerva looking at the robe up and down, noticing something falling out of the bottom.

She looked down, finding a... Winter warlock's Santa looking cap.

Minerva dropped the robe on the floor, giving a deadpan look and saying,"Am I really doing this right now?" She asked to the universe, looking at the convenient night wear at her feet.

But then?

She smiled.

Despite the cringe, despite the universe practically telling her this... this cartoon character is her, and maybe someone else, despite it literally just spawning from nowhere.

She found herself putting on the Winter warlock robe and hat, not wanting to admit how comfy it was.

She sat on the edge of her bed, bare feet dangling off it as she stared at her new window.

Minerva adjusted her cap, her smile widening as she sung the song to herself.

"Put one foot in front of the other. And soon, you'll be walking across the floor orrrorrr." She sang softly, staring at the beautiful illustration of the Rod of Asclepius, the dark blue star upon the moonlight being a feast to Minerva's eyes.

"Put one foot in front of the other. and soon, you'll be right out the dooooorrrrrrr." Came Minerva, as she watched, gazed at the beauty she allowed herself to have.

And by putting one foot in front of the other, soon she'll be in love with something more.

Notes:

Sorry it wasn't a Simon chapter. I wanted to give more development to Minerva first before really leaning into her being with Simon. But don't fret! There budding romance will be back after the next chapter I have in store! Stay tuned....

Also, side note: I decided to leave it ambiguous on how the clothes Minerva receives towards the end appear.

Chapter 39: Fanart chapter3! The electric boogalee!

Summary:

Just some art I've been making for this fanfic! Though BE WARNED! Some of it might be a little uncomfortable and may or may not be teasing future events. The next chapter should be dropping sometime this week!!!!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1F3TREq9R1pxhHkBaxAPF4b5o36QAFU5jTK8FISxK2EY/edit?usp=sharing

Notes:

Should I continue?