It's pissing down outside. Like, soak you through in ten seconds sheets of water. And I'm caught out in it. Just my luck, y'know? And to add insult to injury, I'm stuck in my little bat morph. I wouldn't care if it was the large, scary one, or even the wolf, but no. Here I am, drenched and shivering like a weakling stuck in a tiny bat body.
Don't ask me how I got stuck. I was just having a good regular old day dicking around in the woods, scaring some animals and collecting apples, when this crazy tree lady jumps out at me and asks me if I'd marry her. Like, I get that I'm hot, or I wouldn't have chicks throwing themselves at me pretty much constantly (And even dudes, on some occasions. I take it as a compliment, but only when they want me on top). But I'd never seen this one before and she looked like she was eighty or something. Considering I'm a thousand and seven, that sounds hypocritical, but I'm around eighteen in every way except actually. If you think it's wrong for me to place physical appearance above immortal age, then shoot me.

Anyway, when I politely told insane old oak witch no (' Fuck off, ya loopy old bat.'), she had a huge hissy fit and turned me into a bat. Then she cackled for a bit about the irony of the situation and choosing words wisely while I squeaked indignantly at her, then went off and did whatever weird old women do whenever they've just cursed unsuspecting vampires.
Yeah, I had to squeak at her. Meaning she probably didn't get the wonderful experience of being given a verbal middle finger by a hacked off immortal. I can usually talk in my bat morph, but because I was forced into it I was basically just a bat. Probably a vampire bat, but even so.

Then, because Glob is as in love with me as everyone else is, the heavens opened up and the mother-of-all rainstorms started while I'm trying to get back home. If I had made it, I would've called Gumbutt and gotten him to make me an antidote ( Remember those guys that throw themselves at me? He's one of them.) But I was only about a quarter of the way across the grasslands when I got into this state. Tiny bat, completely soaked, freezing cold and thoroughly pissed off.
First thought is ' Motherfuck, this is not how I go out.' I mean, how undignified was this? I'm King of the Vampires, I should go out in a blaze of glory with some hottie (Maybe a blonde. A nice curvy one) crying over my tragically attractive dead body.
But as I'm flying, despite being able to see all-fuck through the rain, I notice some lights shining in the distance. Pretty high up off the ground too.

Fionna's house! Well, technically my house, but I gave it to her, because I'm just awesome like that. In retrospect, I probably should've made her trade me something in return, but eh. You win some, you lose some. Besides, it's not like I'll never get a, uh.. result from her. 'Cause despite the fact that my face hurt for days after she punched me like a psycho for a little prank I pulled to get her to admit she liked me (I faked my death with creampuffs. Nothing major), If she got so upset about me dying, then she obviously has ' a little crush' on me. It's apparent.
Though the fact I can't tell her it's me is a bit of a problem. But chances are, even if she doesn't know I'm her demonic, ridiculously friendzoned vampire guy, she'll help me all the same. She'll see a tiny little bat and be like ' Aww!' because she's female and they all have some sort of weird programming that makes them love cute little animals.
Ugh, I'm a cute little animal. Cute. Blech.

So I eventually make it to the treehouse without being bloody shot to pieces by the raindrops that are coming down like bullets, and I start checking out the windows, trying to figure out where she is so she can let me in. It's pretty cold outside even without the freezing rain, and although my normal self isn't bothered by such lowly things as temperature, this little warm-blooded creature I'd been turned into is.
I find Cake in their bedroom, playing Kompy's Castle, but I don't want her fawning all over me. She and I have a complicated relationship. She tolerates me, but gets jealous when I take away too much of Fionna's attention, and I don't really think she's that important. She's just a cat, even if she is technically Fionna's family. Bunny's messed up in some ways, but it's cute. Kind of.
My relationship with Fionna is a lot simpler and a lot more complex at the same time. Simply put, she pretends she doesn't think I'm hot shit and I try to get her to admit it. Dig any further past that, and you get into a whole mess of heart-guts-emotional junk that I so do not want to deal with. Like, feelings and stuff. Ew.

I find Fionna in the living room, writing in a little brown book. Which is a little weird. I never would've picked her as the bookish, nerdy type. But then again, she's not exactly clean cut. She always has something else to knock me back.
I tap on the window as hard as I can, squeaking at the same time 'till she would hopefully hear me over the annoying movie-esque wind and rain sounds. Finally, she looks up and I immediately wrapped my wings around myself and make my eyes all massive and pitiful, being like ' Oh I'm so tiny and cold, love me!' Fionna drops her book and runs over to the window, opening it and picking me up with both hands.
' Aw, you poor little thing! Were you caught out in the rain, little bat? Oh, you poor baby, c'mere!' Next thing I know, she's cradling me to her boobs, quite literally pressing my face into her cleavage. Being the gentleman that I am, I remain still and shiver for a few seconds but she's so damn warm. Like finding a roaring fireplace when you've just walked through a snowdrift.
So I spread my paws across her tits and well, nuzzle. And squeeze. And squeak. And purr. Cut me some slack, I'm only male and she has a nice pair! Plus she's basically offering them to me, who am I to say no?
Fionna laughs at me and strokes the wet fur on my back, holding me in place. She seems completely fine with it. Probably because she thinks I'm just a stupid animal and I have no clue what I'm doing.
'Aw, you're so cuddly! And cold. I must be pretty warm to you, right?' I respond by purring louder and tightening my grip on her rack. So nice and warm and soft and female. I love girls. They're so.. girly.
Fionna shakes slightly when I take a chance and try to burrow further down into her shirt. She tugs me out before I can get anything but my head in, and looks down at the big wet patch across her chest. It's making her nipples go hard because her shirt is so cold and damp. By this point, it's probably a good thing I'm stuck as a bat, because if I had been able to change back there's no telling what I would've done to her. I mean, damn. With her clothes clinging to her like that... much too tempting. She's changed a lot in the time I've known her, from a cute fresh-faced little girl to this short but perfectly formed woman. Her hips look almost a little too wide for her height, and her waist a little too small for her hips. The phrase 'hourglass figure' is made for her.
Though, it's a little weird to see that she isn't wearing a bra. I twanged the strap the first time I caught her wearing one, but it didn't put her off them, sadly enough. But she would've probably gone to bed soon-ish if I hadn't turned up.
' Ugh. Yuck. Okay, I'll dry you off and change my shirt. You can stay here until the storm lets up.' Fionna says, holding me in both hands again but disappointingly keeping me away from her breasts.

She carries me into the bathroom and puts me down on the sink, then bundles me up in a yellow towel and starts rubbing up and down my stomach and back, drying off all the water.
I can't help myself. She's rubbing my tummy and it feels like motherfucking unicorn sex ice cream. Like everything in the world that is amazing is being condensed into a feeling that is only slightly sexual but still entirely brilliant. You'll never understand it until you've experienced it yourself, but unicorn sex ice cream is the best analogy I've come up with so far because it makes no sense but it's still awesome. Like having your belly rubbed is.
Fionna laughs and coos when I purr and start drooling. I'm frankly too high and out of it too care. Seriously, the only feeling that can top it is- Well, you can probably guess. You know what I mean, don't be so innocent.
'So you like that? Cake always claws me to death if I try. Apparently it's a 'Lord Only' zone. She's so crazy sometimes.'
I squeak at her pitifully when I'm all dry and poofy and she stops rubbing my tummy. I kinda feel like a wimpy nutcase, but it just feels so good.
' Hey, I can't just pet your tummy all evening, little guy! Wait, you are a guy, right? Or should that be little girl?' She drops the towel and reaches for me again but I bare my fangs at her and hiss, folding my wings across myself and curling up. No way is she checking out the family jewels when it's smaller than a peanut. Not to mention being manhandled like that is completely humiliating. Nu-uh. Not happening.
However, I'm perfectly fine if she wants to confirm my gender when I'm back to being a sexy, well-hung vampire. It'd do her good to see a normal (If generously proportioned in the contents of my jockey shorts) male body for first times, not one made of fire or chewing gum. Not that she'd ever see Gumbutt's. He'd rather make out with LSP then Bunny.

Fionna rolls her eyes at me and puts her hands on her hips.
'Fine then. I'm going to assume you're a boy because you had a weird thing for my boobs, but if you're a girl and that's just a bat thing you can't get mad at me 'cause you wouldn't let me check.' I watch her warily until she backs off and hangs the towel up over by the shower.
' You promise to stay put while I go change my shirt?' She says, coming back over and wagging a finger at me.
Like I said before, I'm only male. If there's a chance I can get a front row seat of her taking her clothes off, I'm gonna damn well try my best to get it. So I jump onto her hand and crawl up her arm, settling myself in the hollow between the tendons in her neck and her collarbone, then gently grabbing her neck with my paws. Now I'll promise to stay put.
Fionna raises an eyebrow and laughs, shaking her head, then climbs up the ladder to her room.
'Fine then. As long as you promise to be quiet.' She pulls me off her neck and puts me on her bed, before walking over to the closet and silently taking out a clean shirt over the top of her sleeping cat's head.
Like I said, she clearly isn't wearing a bra underneath her shirt, something that almost never happens when I'm around. The one time she forgot to put one on and I happened to turn up, she'd spent the whole time with her arms folded. I'd only figured out she wasn't wearing one after I stole her hat and they had jiggled attractively all over the place while she tried to get it back. Then earned myself a black eye when she caught me looking. Women really need to learn to take it as a compliment. Means we think you're hot, why is that in anyway insulting?
But I'm on Fionna's bed and she's taking off her shirt. I hadn't pictured that these unique set or circumstances would apply when I said that for the first time, but you never know.
And trust me, I'm gonna be able to say that again. The next time, for exactly the reason you think I would be saying it.

She pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it just past me on the bed, one of the sleeves ending up draped over my ears. I don't notice, being somewhat preoccupied with simultaneously trying not to drool or get a nosebleed.
I mean, I've seen plenty of tits. Big ones, small ones, round ones, pointy ones. There's no pair that matches any other exactly.
But hers are like, made for me. I swear to grob. Just the right amount bigger and fuller than I'd be able to hold in my hands normally, pert and oval and probably smooth as silk. She has a little red mark shaped like a lopsided heart next to her right nipple.
But then, of course, she has to interrupt my blissful fantasizing by putting on her clean shirt. I almost growl in annoyance before remembering that she does not know I'm not staring out of curiosity. If she ever finds out that it's me sitting on her bed, and not the cute innocent little bat she thinks I am, I'm gonna get it so bad. Worth it, though. So very worth it.

' Okay. Um, I was kinda busy when you started tapping on my window, but I'll bet you're pretty tired right?' Fionna says, looking at me as she straightens the hem of her shirt. I crawl across the covers then reach up for her, squeak-begging for her to pick me up. I know it sounds completely lame, but I wanna be all up in her boobs again. The best pillow. If she lets me go to sleep on her chest I won't even be mad about the whole stuck-as-a-stupid-tiny-bat thing. I have my priorities straight.
Fionna smiles and coos at me for a few seconds, as chicks are want to do when small fluffy things request their attention, then she picks me up and cuddles me again. Considering I have one tit on either side of my head now, I'm entirely satisfied with this arrangement. She lets me stay clasped to her chest while she climbs down the ladder then half-sits, half-lies down on the couch so that I'm balanced on the shelf her breasts create. She picks up her brown book again as I curl up and start purring. I do check out her book but the writing is too loopy for me to read quickly, so I probably would've just dozed off (I was comfortable. Really comfortable) if she didn't start talking to me. She saw me looking at the page before I settled down.
' Oh, my book? Well, you see.. I have this friend. Called Marshall-lee.' As soon as she says my name, I'm wide awake again, no matter how comfortable I am (Really comfortable). She's gonna talk about me to an animal? Well, actually this isn't that weird for her considering she has a talking cat, but she's gonna talk about me? What will she say since she doesn't know who she's telling it to?
I blink at her until she speaks again.
' He's heaps older than me and he acts like a tool a lot of the time, but he can be cool when he wants. It's the when he wants bit that gets me. I mean, after all the stuff that's happened to him, why isn't he.. I don't know, more introspective? Thinky, y'know? But I don't really know if he gives a crap about anything anymore. Or even if we're actually friends. Maybe I'm just a practical joke to him.' Her eyebrows crease together and she starts nibbling on her bottom lip when she finishes talking. She looks kinda sad.
I mean, yeah fair enough about some of that stuff. I don't give a crap about much. Caring is draining, especially when you know it's all for nought anyway. Mortals are lucky like that. They don't live long enough to see that nothing they worked for lasts.
But I do care about her, and it stings in the weirdest way to hear her say she thinks I don't. Why the hell does she think I hang out with her if we're not friends? And if I had my way, we'd be something beyond friends. Not lovers, that would get too complicated. Like I said, mortals don't live long, and I won't deliberately set myself up for that kind of heartbreak.
So maybe it's best that I don't get my way. Not giving her my everything because I can't isn't fair to her. 'Cause she's a good kid, funny and tough, not to mention beautiful.
Yeah, I like her. You might even say I have 'some little crush' on her (Though if you ever repeat that, I will strangle you with your own intestines after bleeding your mother dry while you watch). But at the very least, anyone can say that I care about her, and I don't know why she doesn't see that.

Then her face unclouds and she smiles at me again, scratching between my ears which makes me melt in the most disgustingly gooey way. I want her to stop because it's completely humiliating, but then again I never want her to stop because it feels like magic (Heh..).
'Anyway, he's a really good singer, and he writes a lot of his own songs. He plays keyboard, but his main instrument is his axe bass, which is like super old and a family heirloom, I think. And the songs he writes are.. Really good. Like, some of them are cute and funny, and some of them I don't really get, but they're all amazing.' I smirked at her after that. The ones she didn't get I could definitely teach her to understand, if only she'd let me.
' But since I like his songs so much, and 'cause I sing with him all the time and he never tells me to shut up, I thought I'd try writing my own songs. My sister, Cake, doesn't know because she'd tease me for being a sook if I told her.'

Surprised is not quite the word for how I'm feeling. There's a little bit of pride in here too. Doesn't matter what you inspire someone to do (For most people it does, but I walk on both sides of the moral fence), being an inspiration is just a good feeling. Makes you feel important and a bit Glob-like too.
Obviously I can't read over her shoulder while she's writing because then she'd twig that I wasn't just your average bat. So I curl up on her boobs again and pretend to go to sleep, listening to the scratch-scratch of her pencil on the page and the occasional brush of an eraser.

Despite my best efforts, I'm halfway off to sleep when Fionna stops and hums something under her breath, then starts softly singing out loud what she'd written down.

'I never thought that I would find
The key to the chest I keep locked in my mind
The chest has a key that opens a door
Through the door lies my heart and secrets galore

When I'm searching for gold or slaying my demons
For the safety of others or no real reason
Love is not one of the treasures I seek
And the fact that I've found it is a secret I keep

Secrets locked behind
The door with it's key in the chest in my mind
The guy that I love
All he is and was
He's hidden, my secret for all of time.'

Saying that I'm completely mindfucked is not stretching too far. Her song is good. Like, really good, Me-quality if a little more, ah.. odd, then my songs tend to be. And also, Bunny is in love. She's not an easy girl to grab the attention of (Given that she's outnumbered like, ten to one on the chicks-to-dicks scale and she's had one boyfriend), and by the sound of the song, she knows that. But she's saying that she'd fallen for a guy, but she'd never tell anyone about it.
Oh glob, I'll bet you anything it's fucking Gumball again.
I wanna go rip his stupid, smug gummy face to bits. Fionna could do so much better. For starters, maybe someone that clearly wasn't into men? Like me, for instance. But noo, I'm handcuffed in the friendzone. Jeez.

The first man that I ever wanted to try
Creating a key for the lock in my mind
Was the kind, sweet and strong ruler of his Kingdom
But turns out key's aren't made from bubblegum

The next guy was firery in all that he did
For I while I thought that he'd opened the lid
But the the metal was warped, we fell apart
he couldn't quite craft the key to my heart.

Secrets locked behind
The door with it's key in the chest in my mind
The guy that I love
All he is and was
He's hidden, my secret for all of time.'

This song is reading like a diary entry. I know how that feels, when I'm improv-ing I tend to get a little too into it and say more than I should. I wonder if Fionna will ever show me her songs, or whether they're too personal for her to ever bring up in any other context. Because obviously, the first verse was about Gumbutt (So, not her man. Ha!) and the second one about her Romeo-and-Juilet mushfest with Flame dork. They had worked pretty well (according to Cakers) for a while, but he had hurt her somehow. Maybe he burnt her too much? I don't know, and I don't really care so long as he doesn't try and put his hot little hands on her again. Even if I'm not her man, I'm never going to become him if she gets another guy, or gets back with her ex. Even though it sounds like she already has another one in mind. Sigh.

'And I'm alright
Now I'm back on my own
Cause it doesn't do me any harm
To spend a little time alone

But now I'm free, unconnected
Every day I'm expected
Just to do what I do
But it don't feel the same 'cause I'm blue.'

Fionna smiles to herself and shakes her head.
'He always calls me Bunny-blue.' I nearly growl again when she mutters that.
That's my nickname. Bunny, Bunny-blue, Blondie, Fifi, those are all mine. Don't ask me why I like nicknames so much, but Fionna makes it ridiculously easy to give her them. Nobody but me is allowed to call her that. It is mine. If she won't let me stake a claim on her, at least let me claim my names!

' So now I have fallen hopelessly in love
For a guy who is so cosmically far above me
and it sucks so bad I just wanna scream
He's sarcastic and flirty, smart, dark and mean

He says he's the villain, not to trust him at all
But that didn't help much when I was poised to fall
for his voice and his eyes, got me so easily
Yeah, I'm all his and his name is..'

Fionna sighs and picks up her pencil, indecisively tapping the graphite tip on the blank space she left at the end of that last line. I realise I haven't breathed, like a normal living bat, for about a minute so I quickly inhale but Fionna doesn't seem to notice. After a few seconds, she scribbles something quickly in the book then shuts it quickly, grumbling under her breath. I'm pretending to be asleep, so I can't look at it, though I have never wanted to see something so badly. In that kind of context, I mean.
' Stupid. You said you'd never like him. Stupid, stupid...' She covers her eyes with her hand then glances down at me, supposedly still snoozing peacefully on her tits. She gently picks me up, checking that I hadn't woken up (I'm an excellent actor. There's really nothing you can't do when you've been around as long as I have. Ladies, you know what I mean.*wink*) then carefully places me in a nest she made out of her yellow jumper. She smiles at me and gently pets my head, before walking over to the ladder that leads up to her room, blowing out the only candle that was already burning low. She had been writing for a long time.

Soon as she's gone I crawl out of her jumper. I have to know what she's written. Who this guy was that she's completely given herself too. That's so unlike her. She's so strong and independent, she seems like the type of girl who'd be all feminist and ' I don't need no man!' rather then the gooey ' I'm all his!' type. Though thinking back on it, that sentence has a very, very subtle sexual edge to it. Maybe that's what she meant by all his. She's literally given him her all already.
Oh gob, I hope like hell she hasn't. Cause, at sixteen, she's technically old enough I guess, but if she was in love with him but wouldn't admit it then it becomes a case of slam and scram. Hit and quit. Tap and gap. Fuck and chuck. ( Ever noticed how many slang words for getting it on also rhyme with a word for running off or getting rid of something? I'll have to do a song about it sometime. Then send it to LSP. He'll love it.)
If I'd come back to Aaa now instead of uh, four years ago then I probably would've done that to Fi. I'm a heartbreaker, and I'm proud of it. But if I got to know of her afterwards, I'd probably regret it. She doesn't deserve that kinda treatment in the first place, and at least I'm gentlemanly enough to avoid/leave the girl alone afterwards when I only intended to come and go. If she's being lead on after letting a guy screw her, then that asshole is totally gonna get it, courtesy of the most lethal ruler of the night creatures since my father.

I heave the book open with my weak little bat arms and flick through the pages. There's doodles and little scribbles of things, and eventually I figure that this is just her all-purpose book for writing in. Finally I find the page that looks like hers had, but bats have crap eyesight, and even with my demon powers I can't make out any of the words. So I pick up the book with my teeth and drag it over into a shaft of moonlight on the side of the sofa. I don't realise until the next morning that I've left fang marks on the page, which is stupid of me, but I'm focused on finding out who's name she had written down. Who had taken advantage of her. I mean, from the description, she could've been talking about me but I've never gotten her up to bed.
Fiercely friendzoned, that's me.
At least until I see my name scrawled into that blank space.

'He says he's the villain, not to trust him at all
But that didn't help much when I was poised to fall
for his voice and his eyes, got me so easily
Yeah, I'm all his and his name is.. Marshall-lee!?'

While I'm busy being completely and utterly floored by the information I'd just received, I randomly realise that she'd actually made it rhyme. And that it would only work for my name, out of all the dudes she knew.
Fionna's in love with me?

I read back through the entire song, and this time I pay attention to everything she says about the guy who had the key to her heart (I know it's a little more circumvented then that, but c'mon. You really think I'm paying attention to that? Don't be so pedantic.)
I was above her? How? Was that some issue with the fact I was royalty? 'Cause that had never stopped her with Gumball. The fact that he likes boys was a bigger blockage in her path then the crown that sits on his perfectly coiffed bubblegum quiff. Gob, he's so fucking gay. He really doesn't help the camp stereotypes.
Or maybe she means that I always act like I'm too good for her, out of her reach. Above her abilities. If she really believes that, then she has to be incredible insecure about the way she looks. And who she is. This girl.. First she doesn't think I even give a damn about her, now when I find out she certainly gives a damn about me she'll never admit it. Because she thinks I'm too good for her. Fuckin' hell...
Sarcastic, flirty, smart, dark, mean. Yeah, that's me in a nutshell. She doesn't know me well enough to figure out that there's a little more to the darkness then just an absence of light, but she's only sixteen. If and when we ever get together, she can find out when she's older. I can't be that vulnerable without a guarantee.
I did tell her I'm the villain, because it's true. I'm not the good guy in her fairy tale. If you wanna get into archetypes, I'm probably the trickster. Chaotic. Serves for comic relief. Underlines all the hypocrisy and irony. And I like it that way.
She never believes me though, because she's so fucking naive that she probably reckons everybody's a good guy somewhere deep down. Apart from the Lich, maybe.

She thinks she's got me all work out but she's only barely glanced at the equation. Only just read the riddle. I'm more complicated than she reckons. I'm not pure evil black. I'm more of a charcoal grey colour. 'Cause I'm not a harbinger of destruction, I just please myself in rather macabre-ly amusing ways. She thinks I'm just playing, and most of the time I am, at least with her. Like I said, she's a good kid. But I can be a stone-cold son of a bitch when I want to. How else did she think I became King of the vampires?
So she likes my voice and my eyes? That's adorable. If she was a little less Fionna and a little more a normal teenage girl, she'd probably also like my shoulders and back and maybe my butt. Or maybe she's just too shy to admit that even to herself.

She's so ridiculously trusting that I almost feel like it's my duty to grab her before some real creep gets her. Like, I know that she's this cute teenage girl but I wouldn't take advantage of that in any seriously harmful manner. She's so frickin' pliable that she probably wouldn't suspect anything was wrong until she was roped up naked in some weirdo's dungeon and he was coming at her with a cat-o-nine-tails. I mean, whatever floats your boat, but Fionna doesn't seem like that type (Though if she is, then I seriously need to re-evaluate the way I judge people). But she'd probably go along with it because she's so clueless and next thing you know, she's got a freaky fetish for riding crops.
Yep, if she likes me then I should keep her outta harm's way. Like I said, I'm not pure evil. I don't want her to end up with a really bad guy. Just a bad one. Who's a little mean, a little flirty, a lot hot and completely irresistible.
She should be with me, because I'm best for her. Not because I like, want a relationship with her or anything like that. I can be her gateway. Y'know, the one that got away. After I've taught her everything she needs to know, then I'll get back on the road again.
Don't know why I've hung around here for so long, actually. It's not because of her. No way. I like her, sure, but I don't commit. That's just not me. I ain't the type to get tied down after only a thousand years, and by a mortal nonetheless. I'm not that stupid.

I'm not.

Am I?

Author's note: So, This is my first attempt at writing something in first-person. I am reasonably happy with it, but eeehhhh, it's still not very good. I prefer third :/
I really like writing Marshall though, it's just so fun :D.
Anyway, do you guys want me to continue with this or are you not bothered? Because I'm actually okay with leaving off here, because then you guys are free to see the wonderful potential in the ending. But if you would like me to tell you how I think it'll go from here, leave a review saying so. Also, tell me if you think I should stick to third or whether you like this style of writing.
Oh, and before I forget, I do not own Adventure Time or it's characters, However I do own the song (Secrets) that Fionna sings. So if you wanna borrow it, please ask me first. Ciao!

-WRA