The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

A/N: Fast, eh?

This chapter contains: Swearing, molestation/sexual abuse, drugs, angst, blood and SMUT

Rated M

Marceline x Princess Bubblegum (Eventually)

Summary: The first time ever she saw her face; she saw the sun rise in her eyes. She felt a pull so strong, her heart felt like it might burst out of chest in a bloody mass of veins and muscles. But even that pain couldn't compare to the sudden, surprising pain she felt when she saw that she was distinctly disliked.

Disclaimer: I own zero—zip—nada.

Chapter 9: Prime

She'd never tell a soul: Marceline was afraid of blood.

Not so much the color. It was the smell, the texture—the thickness when it started making spindly rivers down the skin…

She was 14 when her cycle had started, a few months before Marceline had been intimate with LSP.

The young Marceline had been in school when it happened.

By time Marceline had reached 7th grade, Simon was a full-time responsibility and an all the time burden. He was as insane as he was useless and she wanted to avoid any conversations about genitalia with him. The black-haired teen couldn't even talk about him to anyone else—if she did, she might endanger them both. Even if it was hard to live with him, she would rather that than to live without him.

Back then Marceline paid a little more attention to school. The pale girl was no scholar but at least school was a distraction. Anything was better than looking at her ominous fate of dying alone with bat-shit crazy Simon.

Sex Education, on that fateful day, had taken her placated, almost vacant stare and turned it into hunger and need as her teacher began to play something about female puberty.

"—your chest area will develop breasts and you will begin to truly take shape." The video was some old cassette from decades ago; the teacher was tapping on her phone's screen idly to the right of the projector. No one in the room seemed particularly intrigued by the lesson but Marceline could-not-even-kind-of-really comprehend how people were ignoring the picture of a stark naked woman in front of them.

Marceline scanned the room for evidence of this chest area development.

While the teen vaguely heard something about blood and body parts, she found one girl's hard nipples poking through her shirt and was distracted.

Perky, supple round breasts. Marceline could not help but scan around the classroom at all the girls' tits.

As she took in a stealthy look, she felt her mouth get dry. The thought of these girls sprouting boobies under their shirts was amazing. And then underneath their skirts…

Marceline felt a dull throbbing at her being, centered at her—erm—

A deep blush spread across her cheeks. She felt a little… moist.

She raised her hand, getting the okay to trot to the bathroom. Once she was in the stall Marceline pushed her pants down, baring her dark tufts of hair on her—

Marceline rapidly shook her head. She couldn't bear to think too much. She ran her fingers down her thighs and through her tufts, receiving little tingles in response to the touches. Lower and lower she dragged her fingers till she was touching her lips. The soft action elicited a deep exhale. With a bite of the lip, Marceline dipped toward her opening.

As soon as she had brushed her entrance, she swiped up the liquid she found and pulled the finger to her face.

It was red—dark red with blood.

Her eyes widened and for an odd reason, the pale girl felt herself get dizzy like she may faint. The terror that shot through her was like nothing else she'd ever experienced: she had to get some damn help before she died!

Marceline rinsed her hands in the sink and sprinted off from the bathroom—only to slip (on invisible damn water) and collide into the lockers on her right in a heap of bones and panic. To her chagrin, the whole class came bustling out to see the commotion, along with the room across the hall, boys and girls looking at her with surprise and glee.

After the debacle, her teacher spoke to her in the now empty hallway and sent her to the bathroom with something called a "pad" saying, "Speak of the devil, you're a woman now! You've gotten your period." Marceline was supposed to attach this cotton thing to her panties. Upon inspection of her underwear, she found blood spots on the crotch.

The black-haired girl's stomach lurched. She hastily opened and attached the pad and then turned, barely making it to aim her mouth by the toilet. Spew consisting of fruit and juice splattered on the toilet seat, drops landing on her ripped jeans. Marceline felt the cold air of the a/c on her bare ass as she finished vacating her stomach.

A nurse visit earned her a miserable walk home, her lower half throbbing with warm pain. Shuffling quickly, the teen made it home—

To yet another surprise. I fucking hate surprises.

As soon as she opened the door, Marceline could smell a tangy copper stench in the air. She saw that Simon was on the floor doing something.

If you had asked her what exactly he was doing right then, the pale girl couldn't have told you. All she could see was the carpet soaking in red. Blood was so thickly pumping out of him that it could not absorb into the fibers. Instead it pooled on top of the rug uncannily like sludge.

Suddenly it hit Marceline like a ton of bricks: Simon was doing something he referred to as "carving".

Of course, there was no wood, no; Simon's choice in medium was his own body.

His tool? A pair of scissors (she had hidden the most obvious sharp things after the last incident) Marceline had stored in her room.

A couple of seconds passed before Simon raised his head up to see Marceline standing frozen and horrified. The elderly man broke into a jagged tooth smile at her appearance.

"Oh, Marcy! You're back, oh, you're back!" Simon got up gleefully, seemingly not in pain (but fucking delusional), and was shooting towards her in a blotch of deep red. Marceline pressed up against the front door, bringing her hands in front of her and to his chest, to thwart his hug.

"Oh my God, FUCK, SIMON! What the hell were you doin—" the pale girl was interrupted by a gag coming from the pit of her stomach, sending painful spasms to her already-upset tummy. The smell, oh God, the smell.

Simon looked awful; his white beard had red stains in it. There were a few droplets of blood spattered unto his wrinkled face too. His left arm was marred in red and open flesh while his right hand was caked in blood. He didn't seem to mind or even notice that he was in such disorder; he was more upset that he couldn't have his way, shoving against Marceline and screeching.

It took everything Marceline had not to run screaming out of the house at the grotesque sight.

In almost a fugue, she remembered dragging Simon up the stairs and into the tub. In the process, she ended up smearing blood on herself as well. As much as she felt like she might faint, Marceline desperately had to block out her emotions to make it through it for Simon's sake.

And lucky for the both of them, she did.

It was the next day that Marceline skipped school and opted to get out the house. Though Marceline was sort of cramping, anything, anything was better than being cooped up with Simon after yesterday's crisis.A relatively new friend named LSP (Louisa Pratt in class) had befriended the dark haired girl when she first arrived to the school, but today was their first time Marceline accepted the invite hang out.

They met at LSP's house, sitting in the back yard. Her parents were on the couch, and giggling at some cartoon, were too in the zone to acknowledge their presence. As they sat, an awkward silence fell between them both.

"Soooo, Marceline wanna, like, smoke some pot?" LSP broke the silence like a hammer hitting glass, shattered.

Marceline did not know what "pot" was, but she'd be damned if she let LSP know that. She nodded, not trusting her voice. LSP pulled out a long brown paper object, the sides of the paper peeling up. Green herb poked out of either side. LSP handed the skinny thing to her along with a lighter.

"Light it up, girrrrrl."

Marceline didn't how the hell to do that either. But again, her teen pride was telling her to attempt to look cool in front of LSP for reasons she couldn't quite decipher. She tried to recall every movie she'd seen with people smoking cigarettes. Closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh, she put the rolled up paper into her mouth and flicked the lighter.

No flame. Heat rose to Marceline's pale cheeks. You're gonna work for me, Goddammit. A second flick. Still no flame.

"Is this like, your first time?" LSP's voice held the lilting tones of teasing in it. Marceline blushed at the innuendo.

"I got this." The pale one muttered sharply. A third flick of the lighter and WAA-LAA flame.

She brought the paper close to the flame, watching it as it ignited. Following her mental picture of smoking, Marceline inhaled deeply.

Her throat caught on fire and she coughed up smoke and plant matter. Marceline coughed so hard that LSP snatched the burning thing away from her.

"Like, God, girl. Give me the blunt so I can show you, like, how pro I am." LSP took a slow drag. She held it in for some time then she blew it over Marceline, flashing a grin at the still dying pale girl. "C'mon now, girl, like, don't puss up."

Marceline again felt embarrassment come over her, snatching back the blunt and repeating LSP's actions.

Upon exhale, Marceline felt like she was in a whole 'nother world. The sun had somehow turned from yellow to a vivacious gold and the grass, oh the grass, was tickling against her skin like jolly green fingers. She took another brave hit, sputtering slightly, then passed it to LSP before exhaling.

"What in the world does this do?" Marceline had asked the question before she could stop herself. LSP grinned giddly.

"Gets you, like, super high and it just feels, like, so good, y'know?" No, the pale girl didn't know—until now. LSP turned to look at the pale one. Marceline had fallen out on her back at some point, her eyes low and her body relaxed. A bit of her midriff was showing, her taut stomach and belly button poking out. Marceline felt the other girl staring and gazed back at LSP.

Her eyes were low, but focused on Marceline's body. The dark haired teen blushed again, with intensity. Though normally she would have said something to LSP, she didn't, too relaxed and grateful that LSP had shown her something wonderful. To her, Marceline felt indebted for the gift she would later give—

Her first time.

=========================-IX

"So, just inhale, alright?" Bonnibel started her deep inhale. "But not too har—" Too late, Bonnibel had already pulled away and was hacking up smoke. Marceline shook her head. Fucking Amateur.

Marceline lifted the joint to her lips. It was slightly moist from the blonde's full lips kissing it. Something about knowing that sent a shudder down Marceline's spine. She pulled in a hit.

Bonnibel was still choking after Marceline's exhale, thumping on her chest. Soon enough though, her fits subsided and she lifted her head up to accept the pass. This time, Marceline made sure to let Bonnibel hold the joint herself. She didn't say anything, just watched the tan girl take another hit. Bonnibel tried to hold it in past 3 seconds and failed again, launching smoke all over the place and coughing.

Marceline shook her head.

To her surprise though, Bonnibel recovered quickly and took another hit and held it in for a bit longer before coughing. She passed it silently to Marceline.

And it continued like this in silence for a while, passing, smoking and coughing (exclusively from Bonnibel).

After about 10 minutes, Marceline was on her way to being high. She wondered about Bonnibel though, who had remained engrossed by the trees surrounding them. Marceline was a little worried, to be honest. She didn't know how the straight-laced girl would react to this, and feared the worst. So Marceline did the most logical thing and asked:

"Hey, are you high yet?"