Title: sugar spun debris
Fandom: Star Versus the Forces of Evil
Summary: AU. Possibilities with Toffee, Mewnipendance Day, and other things in the cosmos.
A/N: This is written post-"Mewnipendance Day."
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Star Versus the Forces of Evil.
i.
"Gimme a break..." Marco muttered into his soda as—Francis? Fritz?—publicly gave the middle finger to—Sarah? Suzie?—while flying by on his skateboard. Marco wasn't very familiar with either of those two at school, other than knowing they were a couple, and overhearing some recent gossip about them having a huge tiff. Apparently big enough to have one of them give the other the finger in front of everyone at the cafeteria during lunch.
For her part, Sarah Or Suzie was gearing up to throw her milk carton at Francis Or Fritz—up until Star popped up, waving her own middle finger around.
"Hi Frankie!" She beamed, even as Apparently Frankie skateboarded into a vending machine out of surprise, and Sarah Or Suzie cackled in delight. While the rest of their classmates either laughed or complimented Star over this, Marco took a moment to not sound like he was totally freaking out before taking the princess aside.
"Star, that was—" He took another calming breath. "You have no idea what Frankie did, do you?"
"Uh, waving?" The princess tried, while opening a soda can with her bare teeth and Marco bit back a response to that; one thing at a time.
"He gave the middle finger, and that's—on Earth, it's a very rude gesture," Marco said, determined to sound authorative and not the least bit awe-stricken as Star successfully opened the drink with her bare teeth and without anything going horribly wrong.
"Ohhhh," Star said, eyes registering as she wiped an arm over her mouth, drying the soda off and making Marco scramble for a napkin dispenser. "Yeah, never heard of that on Mewni."
After that, the rest of the lunch passed sorta uneventfully, though Star would occasionally squint at her middle finger and wiggle it around.
###
Years and years and years ago
Second-born Princess Hazelnut Butterfly stomped past the monsters' cages and Mewni soldiers, fuming at her older sister. She had only said the cages were too small to pack so many monsters into each of them, they could be distributed better; her sister was wrong to interpret it as weakness and inappropriate softness on her part, she wasn't weak, she didn't pity these beasts...
They were so freakin' loud, for instance, what was there to pity? They were losing, they were prisoners, the rest of their kin either being annihilated or fleeing the Mewni army; but they were apparently too stupid to realize this as they caused such a racket, jutting their claws and whatever awful appendages they had through the bars, shaking the bars, roaring and hissing and shouting obscenities and other foul and harsh language through magic-reinforced steel. Couldn't her perfect sister figure out a silencing charm for them?
Something with six eyes in each of its three heads actually spat at her.
Hazelnut whirled around, wiping the disgusting matter off her cheek, which was already flushed with black clubs. Oh no, that wouldn't do, count to ten, breathe deep and long, if her sister caught her blushing like this, she would not hear the end of it—
Then her eyes fell on a pale gray-green claw. Its wrist was wrapped in bandages, and below it was a long black sleeve, frayed at the edges. That claw stretched out of the bars, with one finger extended. Middle finger extended.
That little...such audacity, how dare—
Hazelnut barked out orders, triggered the cages' security charm, and the cage zapped its prisoners. Their furious roars turned pained, until it was over, and from the heap they had fallen into there was moaning and a few wheezy curses.
The other cages' fervor only increased, and Hazelnut screamed for them to shut up too, and soon they were zapped, same pattern of pained roars then moaning and groaning. Her ears had a reprieve, at least.
Cheeks still blushing madly, black clubs hot on her face, Hazelnut continued to give orders.
"Guards, pull out the monster who dared show me such disrespect, such rude insult—yes, that one, his wrist was wrapped in bandages just like that, his sleeves were long, black—out, out with him, at my feet!"
Despite being just zapped, some of the other monsters tried to intervene and protect their comrade. They were no match for her soldiers, and they dragged out a—how embarassing, a monster slightly smaller than her, pulling him out by the dark feathers on his head and throwing him to the ground.
When he tried to rise, a soldier shoved him back into the dirt, though he landed on his knees. When he made another attempt, an armored foot slammed onto his tail; another armored hand grabbed his head's feathers again, twisting them back and threatening to pull them out of the ties that held them back into a short scruffy thing that barely counted as a ponytail. The monster hissed through his snout, but made no other sound, or move, just glaring and waiting. His yellow eyes would dart to the soldiers' weapons every so often.
Hazelnut's eyes narrowed at him; his reptilian snout was shorter than what she'd seen on fully grown monsters of his kind, and he was just...generally scrawnier and smaller. Her lip curled; it was one of the monster spawn. She guessed he was maybe thirteen, fourteen, maybe just a year or two younger than she. The monsters had their young fighting too, like Mewni's forces.
"Grab his claws, show them to me," the second princess snarled, mind racing and her rage pounding. The other cages were resuming their noisy rage again, recovering from the magically-induced electrical shock.
Finally the creature spoke, snarling himself, and his voice did...sound like just a boy's, a thirteen-year-old's, a fourteen-year-old's. "Enough, stop touching me!"
Hazelnut's eyes went up and down the young monster as he struggled with her guards. Both of his long black sleeves were torn; one had actually been ripped to the elbow, leaving his scaly forearm exposed, except for the bandages wrapped around it. Apparently both his arms had bandages. The sleeve that had been below that offensive middle finger had only been frayed. His trousers were more intact, again only frayed at the bottom where the clawed feet came out, free of shoes, though one foot was also bandaged. He was covered in grime and dirt and other things that spoke further of the violence he'd probably caused and probably endured.
Finally the soldiers twisted the monster's hands before her, palms up. Another soldier held his snout closed tight, and above that she could see his yellow eyes glaring up at her, full of rage...
Hazelnut's fingers gently played against the monster's palms, mumbling and grumbling under her breath. The second princess was quietly surprised that his scales weren't slimy, or freezing cold, but rather warm; and she was startled by the way the monster's skin trembled and twitched at her touch. "This, this is the one," she hissed, tapping the hand with the bandaged wrist, with the long dark sleeve mostly intact, only frayed. "This is the one that showed disrespect."
She scowled, then abruptly stood up and stomped to a war table, shoving maps and other apparatus off it. "Here, put him here, just lay his head down—and you, give me that—"
The soldier obediently handed her his ax.
The monsters in the cage that had housed the rude one grew louder, as did the other cages. (Did one of those beasts actually shout for coffee? What insane fools.)
The soldiers dragged the monster spawn forward, and the young beast had resumed his struggles with a new feverish energy. Pointless; they still slammed him down against the table, and Hazelnut herself grabbed his head, the feathers on it, and kept it pressed down. She hefted the ax with her other hand. Her soldiers held the rest of him down, thin shoulders and all.
The monster spawn's head was pressed sideways against the table, so that his small snout was still exposed. Though she could really feel his trembling now—it had increased—and his tail wildly whipped back and forth, his voice was pretty level, if rather strained, and hate-filled.
"You—you freakin' horrible—heinous piece of garbage—you're going to pay for this." Only one of his yellow eyes was visible, and it was glaring coldly at the second princess. She stared back. "If not me, someone else is going to make you PAY for what you did to our home, my home—!"
Hazelnut pressed down harder on his head, making him choke back a groan.
She lifted the ax higher. The monster spawn still coldly glared at her. Was he going to close his eye, shouldn't he close his eye, why won't he close his eye—?
The second princess' magic went wild; it changed the ax into a dagger; she shrieked, "His hand, give me his hand—no, not that one, you imbecile, weren't you paying attention, the other one—!"
The correct clawed hand was before her, and she quickly slammed down the magically transformed dagger, cutting through that damned rude middle finger. (The sound and feel of bone and flesh tearing jolted through the dagger straight to her body.)
The monster spawn made a choking sound, as if shoving something down; but other than that, he was quiet. And his yellow eye had finally squeezed shut.
Snarling, she slid the knife and dismembered finger toward her, and the monster spawn slumped down further, shoulders going up and down as if he were gasping for air, breathing heavy, though his mouth remained shut. Hastily the second princess pocketed the cut finger—it was still warm—and ordered the guards to throw the monster spawn back into his cage with the others.
Then Hazelnut stomped off, keeping the stained dagger, not bothering to transform it back into an ax or return it to whoever gave it to her. She'd show her older sister, the dirty dagger and the dismembered finger, show her she wasn't weak, look what she'd done, maimed one of the monsters, made an example of him, a weakling wouldn't do that!
But her pocket felt wet and soggy and disgusting, and weirdly weighted down. Surely a monster's finger couldn't be that heavy.
###
"You have some guts, kid."
"Lucky she didn't show them to us."
"Don't do that again."
"Toffee—"
The only response the young monster could mount was a groan. One of the others, three-headed Mossi and Bossi and Dossi, cradled him closer.
"Toffee, don't fret, or—just—Junebug, she'll fix you right up, she's just ripping off cloth for bandages and getting the water ready," the three said in unison. Their touch and soothing voice was some comfort.
And Toffee was thankful, overall; losing a finger was preferable to losing his life, and he'd seen other monsters lose either that or larger appendages during the invasion. But still it felt like his hand was on fire (and he knew that sensation, he'd gotten a few burns from the blazes the Mewni soldiers had ignited to destroy their villages), and it just felt very strange.
"Now Toffee, give me your hand—"
grab his claws, show them to me, his hand, give me his hand grab his claws GIVE ME HIS HAND
Toffee drew into himself, tail curling in tighter, pressing his maimed hand closer to his chest. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, growling.
"Toffee, it's just me—"
"Damn, kid's getting delirious..."
"He's just freaked out—"
"He'll have to pull it together."
Toffee curled in tighter, hiding his face more, and wishing everyone would be quiet. He could barely identify who was speaking; what felt like fire devouring his hand drove out most names from his recollection.
"He literally just lost his finger minutes ago and he's not even of age—"
"Old enough to fight, too much coddling won't help—"
"You know know he and the other kids shouldn't even be here if things weren't so dire—"
"But they are—"
"Shut up you two! Just let the doc work..."
Three calming claws ran through the crest feathers on Toffee's head.
"—it's me, Junebug, it's the healer—Toffee, we need to clean your hand, then bandage it—just let me help you, I promise to make it better—"
Taking a shaky breath and opening his eyes, Toffee gave up his hand.
The Mewni guards had given them bread and swamp water. With that and scraps of clothing ripped off, Junebug cleaned and bandaged Toffee's hand while the others told him ridiculous stories for distraction. It worked for a time, but when the night arrived and everyone quieted for sleep, a dull ache and phantom weirdness returned to Toffee's maimed hand, keeping him awake. The young monster scratched at the new bandages around his hand and the wrapped up nub where his middle finger had been, and was grateful he still had a chance to take revenge on Mewni.
(Toffee knew Mewni's second princess had shown him some mercy, whatever her intentions really were. Maybe she'd been scared, like the first time he'd killed a Mewman. But Mewni had frequently shown him worse, and they were going to pay for that.)
###
In the kingdom of Mewni on that formerly monstrous island, the middle finger grew so taboo it practically fell out of practice and memory entirely, with only a very small few recalling it.
###
(As if Toffee could ever forget.)
A/N: Yes, I was hinting that Princess Hazelnut Butterfly is, for my purposes, a younger version of Miss Heinous. And in this fic and my headcanon, what looks like hair on Toffee is something else; he actually has something more like long feathers that can be customized/trimmed, etc. (This is completely inspired by feathered dinosaurs.) Part of this was inspired by WMG theories on TV Tropes.