This is meant to be completely crackfic-esque, funny, fluffy, cute; plotlines won't make sense, logic is thrown out the window, and a body of writing ensues that was VERY enjoyable to write. Enjoy, guys XO
There were so many shades of green that could be described pleasantly. Jade, emerald, kelly, forest; hell, even neon green had its charm, and if something was supposed to be green, there were so many options. The material was spread out in front of Megan soon-to-be-Lockwood; it had been ordered to be cut, sewn, and formulated into the wedding dress of her dreams...Well, it wasn't white like it was supposed to be; it wasn't creamy, pearly, shimmery. Someone had mistaken "billow" for "bile" somewhere, or "snowy" for "snotty", because there'd been a grave error. The gown she was going to walk down The aisle in, the aisle that led to the rest of her life...It was a sickening hybrid between olive, neon, and yellow-green, like the crayola crayon.
There was silence in the room as the garment in question had finally been unveiled, no pun intended; seconds later, a few gasps, quickly muffled, escaped her bridesmaids' mouths.
Megan had ordered some specific, last-minute alterations made to some patterning around the neckline and bodice, not having seen the dress in person yet, but had been assured it would arrive intact, on time, tailored to her liking. There was no time, no margin, for error.
As everyone watched in suspended disbelief, the bride moved forward, slowly leaning in to retrieve the hideous heap of fabric from its box, straightening and holding it at arm's length to evaluate the damage. She sucked in a breath, hunching her shoulders.
Suddenly a loud shriek rent the air, and it took a moment for everyone to realize it'd come from Megan, who usually muttered to herself about her problems and occasionally tossed a lamp. With jerky movements, she flung the offensive dress haphazardly on top of its packaging, flinging the door open and leaving the room. The females composing the bridal party just stared after her in awed silence, each praying nothing else happened, the night before had been bad enough...
The dinner had started peacefully enough, surprisingly, as the invites had numbered well over one hundred people, between Megan's family and friends, and the people on Tyler's side, whom nobody had expected to exist since he appeared such a loner to them. The menu was correct, seating arrangments, lighting and location were perfect...
Everything went south just between the second and third courses, when a young blonde woman slammed open the doors to the banquet room, strutting in and scanning the faces within. She wore a tight pink cardigan over a low-cut, lacy white tanktop, and a denim skirt that looked as though it'd been painted on, completing the look with high-heeled boots sheathing her long, shapely legs. Her tight, platinum curls bounced as she nodded, having found who she sought, and marching straight over to the bride and groom's table, reaching her destination with a one sharply-toned word leaving her mouth. "Tyler."
The man in question looked as though he'd just ingested a raw salamander, and he nearly squeaked as he spoke questioningly. "Caroline...? What are you doing here?"
"Attending your wedding party, apparently," she quipped, moving to stand beside him and lay a possessive hand on his shoulder. "We need to talk, now." Megan's hackles rose at the action and words, and ignoring the protesting tightness of her evening gown, she lunged to her feet, unknowingly silencing the room and drawing all eyes to the little scene.
"Excuse me, but you're gonna have to remove your perfect manicure from my fiancee's shoulder, before you lose the whole hand." Megan spoke quietly, arms folded across her chest, and perfectly-arched brows raised as she stared at the intruder's grip on Tyler.
The girl in question, this "Caroline", glanced down at Tyler himself for affirmation; he looked downwards for a moment and seemed to let out a deep breath, then heaved himself out of his chair. "Ladies, please, can we discuss this elsewhere..." His tone was pleading, which sounded an alarm in Megan's head.
"Who is she, Tyler?" Megan hissed over Caroline's head, ignoring the blonde's indignant look.
"She's from Mystic Falls, I don't understand...What are you doing here, Care? We settled things years ago and you weren't invited-" Tyler started, before Caroline quickly cut in, a bite in her voice.
"Oh, I know I wasn't invited Tyler, but alllll your little guy friends were, and even your damn mother, so why not me? Would I be competition or something?" As she uttered the last, she jerked her head dismissively in the bride's direction, and something in Megan snapped. With the word "bitch" exploding from her throat, she moved forward, scrabbling at Caroline's hair and face, latching onto anything she could reach and pulling viciously.
Caroline at first responded defensively, merely raising her hands to her face and shrieking in outrage, but she was soon snatching at parts of Megan's ornate updo, unravelling the carefully-constructed coils and scraping her nails at Megan's forearms.
The two soon sounded like a couple of cats fighting, and the spectators wouldn't have been surprised to see a cloud of dust rise to encompass the fight. Several moments passed in awkward silence, before Tyler had the good sense to reach out and grab Megan around the waist, lifting her off her feet and away from Caroline. Megan's father stepped in as well, placing a sturdy hand on Caroline's shoulder, stopping her movements when her panting form made to leap at Megan again. The blonde had somehow fallen into someone's soup, and her pink cardigan was stained; the brunette had toppled into a dish of gravy, which covered her forearms.
The dinner had finally continued, awkwardly, when a disheveled Megan gestured frantically at the gaping serving staff. "Serve the next course, please!"
In the meantime, Caroline was firmly escorted out the back door to her car, while Megan and Tyler headed out the front entrance to Megan's car, to seek a change of clothes. Luckily, she always stowed a change of gym clothes; hopefully no one would object to her wearing hot-pink shorts, sports bra, and aqua tanktop, all skintight. She was mortified at her only option, face turning crimson in the dim evening light as she somehow channeled a contortionist, divesting herself of the heavy dress via the back seat of her car. Her dignity would be found in weeks, wandering the tundra with a herd of caribou.
But it was apparently a fine outfit to Tyler, if his heated gaze when she scrambled out of the car was any indicator.
Megan was secretly pleased with his reaction, though her own expression was heated for another reason; he did, though, look impeccable in his somehow-still-impeccable-suit. Patting her ruined hair into a pale imitation of its earlier grand style, she glared daggers at her fiance.
When she spoke, her tone was quiet and calm, but Tyler could hear a suppression of pain in her voice. "Who...is she really, Tyler?"
He sighed, raising his dark eyes to her own. "Megan, it's not what it looked like." Isn't that what they all say, thought Megan. "Caroline is really self-absorbed and proud," Tyler continued, moving forward to clasp one of her smaller hands between both of his larger ones. "We were sort of together, once. But she didn't handle well what I had become. Still, when I left, she took it as a personal affront, even though she didn't try to stop me, wasn't there for me. Now that she doesn't have to get her hands dirty in the woods," here he grinned fondly at Megan, "She's finding it convenient to try to sabotage what I've found."
Megan sighed quietly, a smile still beginning to curve her lips. "And what exactly is it you've found?"
His hands found her waist, tugging her closer as he bent his head towards hers. "The best thing I could've ever hoped for."
All of Megan's anger evaporated at the strategic placement of a few kisses, and within a few moments, her hairstyle was in further disarray than ever. She was pressed back against her car, Tyler's hands about to challenge the elasticity of her vibrant workout clothes, when the simultaneous clearing of several throats brought the couple lurching back to reality, panting and flushed. Before them, all in a row, stood the entirety of Tyler's groomsmen party, who had all been missing from all rehearsals today, much to the dismay of everyone. None of their phones had been answered, either.
The best man, Sid, was a mahogany-skinned, cheerful guy Megan had met at school; he and Tyler had hit it off when Sid had come over to Megan's for a project. The other groomsmen included Taran, another school friend of Megan's, whom she'd insisted would provide great comic relief, and three men of Tyler's acquaintance from his own Mystic Falls; Elijah and Klaus, brothers, and Matt, Tyler's best friend. All wore the same expression, stuck between scandalized and extreme amusement.
Taran spoke first, words spilling from his mouth like bees from a hive. "So like, man, this is what happened. We took Donovan here-" he gestured a thumbs sideways at Matt, "his truck, and it died on the highway, and incidentally, our phones all died, and umm...I, um, man, we, uh, are we interrupting anything, bro? Because we can...uh...hit like, the bar inside, or..." As he flailed verbally, the others shifted, elbowing each other and quenching sniggers. Sid finally made a move, shoving the others towards the doors and tossing a wink at Megan. "Move it guys, we've got explanations to give the lovely bridesmaids."
When the last of them had stumbled inside, throwing a last grin at the blushing couple, Megan let out a massive sigh. "This is all a mess. Our rehearsals need rehearsals, half the major players are missing in action, and we can't even finish the soup course without some drama unfolding..." Tyler silenced her with a tight hug, before helping her fix her semi-sex-hair and tug her dress into place again. "Don't worry babe, one way or another; I'm getting you down an aisle, whether it's a footpath in the woods or in a full-blown Catholic cathedral. I don't care." With that, he grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers, and led her back inside to soothe their guests.
The next morning, a shriek echoed loudly through the cavernous church where the wedding was taking place. The words "who", "wrong", and "ginger boy" were the only syllables recognizable in the enraged utterance following the shrill noise.
Megan was wailing, face in hands, by the time her Maid of Honor, a short, pretty brunette named Bonnie, made it to her side. "What the hell...?"
Megan uncovered her face long enough to yell something about the wrong ginger being booked for her wedding, and Bon had only to look towards the right-side stage at the front of the church to see what was wrong. Instead of Ed Sheeran, a red-haired Brit with the voice of an angel, rehearsing and setting up, a giggling man stood there with a large suitcase, holding three cups. It. Was. Carrot Top.
As she watched, he held one out to a caterer passing, claiming the man had a phone call. The puzzled caterer grabbed the cup, brows raised, as the other man held another cup up and spoke into it. He suddenly broke off, screaming about another call "beeping in", and raised the third cup to his other ear. At this, the caterer threw the cup he was holding, shaking his head and stalking off, as Carrot Top screamed about the other call being long-distance and very important.
Bon's horrified expression wasn't the only one in the church, and she blanched, gently guiding a distraught Megan into a side room to begin her hair and makeup. As they passed the other bridesmaids, she shook her head furiously, jerking it at the red-haired entertainer and raising her brows, indicating SOMEONE should be calling and booking an actual musician.
The other bridesmaids were Rachel, Chinita, Jamie, and Anne, all close friends of Megan, and they all nodded, horrified, and scurried off to make calls before their own hair and makeup was due to be done.
Meanwhile, Tyler was already mostly dressed, directing caterers and decorators around as he attempted to straighten his bowtie, scanning a list of available beverages for the reception. He'd gently broken it to Megan that werewolves were not the only supernatural entities in this world, that vampires, too, existed, among other creatures, and that a few were...among their wedding guests. Not only was champagne, cider, and wine among the offered refreshments, but type O-negative and A-positive, to satisfy those particular guests, who had a special room to enjoy those options in, away from unsuspecting mortal attendees.
Not many knew, but two of his groomsmen, Elijah and Klaus, brothers, were vampires, as well as the usher for the wedding, a quiet fellow named Stefan. Klaus, in particular, Tyler was reluctant to have attending, as the vampire was a jealous, conniving bastard, whom his brother, Elijah, had implored Tyler to allow an "important part".
A loud curse left Tyler's lips as the groom tripped over a large phonebook that had lain on the floor, tossed aside when the search for different entertainment had ended. Tossing the offending volume onto a desk in the back room, the wall-calendar caught his gaze, and he froze, staring at the day's date, and the little white circle in the corner of today's square. That couldn't be right. They'd double-checked every paper calendar in the house when planning the wedding date, so that it would fall on a new moon, with no chance of any lunar-enforced wolf behavior occurring; all of the little moons had been blacked in on the date they'd chosen. What the...
Tyler pulled out his phone with shaking hands. Why hadn't any of them checked their phones? As he brought up the calendar, the words "full moon", enunciated with italicized letters, stared out at him.
Im-freaking-possible.
True, Tyler changed at any time, when he grew distraught or he simply felt the need, but the full moon was the only time he strictly HAD to change. And his wedding was taking place on one. Megan was gonna freak at this, even more so than that time she'd discovered he was too lazy to examine the reusable water bottle he'd bought, and it contained BPA...
Meanwhile, doors were being barricaded that opened into the bride's preparation room.
A young man had barged into the church earlier, loudly slurring drunkenly in a cockney accent and demanding to see Megan, "his bird". Helpers had scattered before him, someone yelling that a British madman had come to kidnap the bride. Megan, hearing the noise, ducked out of her hairdresser's grasp, poking her head out, hair filled with rollers, to see what the ruckus was. Spotting the intruder, she gasped, muttering obscenities and ushering half her bridal party inside the room, slamming the door shut after yelling at the other to make sure no one came in until he was gone.
Left in the outer room were Bon and Anne, another bridesmaid. Anne had no idea what was happening, so Bon tried to explain.
"It's Adam, Megan's sorta-secret British ex, from when she went abroad for that semester," the Maid of Honor hissed at Anne, gesturing for help moving a small sofa in front of the door leading to Megan. "I think it...er...Ended badly, yeah."
A bewildered Anne assisted in shoving the furniture in place, and the two of them, the only ones with hair and makeup complete, collapsed onto the piece of furniture, still clad in street clothes and wondering what the hell they were doing.
A moment later, the drunken man staggered into the room, swigging from a bottle of Guinness and hollering incoherently. The girls looked at each other, and then each grabbed a nail file from a side table, pretending to file their already-immaculate manicures, bickering about whether the color of their dresses was burgundy or wine. He moved towards them, waving the now-empty bottle in all directions and gurgling out a few sounds that could have been "Megan".
"Can we, er, help you?" Bon inquired uneasily, her alarmed gaze following the progress of the man as he careened about the room, his intoxicated gaze swivelling in all directions.
"Wurr iz mah bluddeh BIRD," he began, pointing with the bottle-holding hand to Anne. "Give 'er 'ere right now, I ain't never finished-"
"Riiggghhht," Bon cut in, fishing her phone from the pocket of her jeans and hitting a button. "Damage control on aisle 2," she intoned into the device, after holding it to her ear for a moment. "Yep. Quick as you can." Ending her call, she waved the phone at the man. "You're gonna wanna be getting out of here, man, girls only, unless that's a carrot stashed in your pants...?"
She and Anne snickered to themselves as the remark sailed right over Adam's head, and he stood still for a moment, staring at them. Suddenly he let out a noise resembling a roar, and lurched towards them, bringing the bottle back in his grasp to apparently hurl it. At the last second, Matt and Taran burst in, each grabbing an arm of the drunken guy and dragging him backwards with apologetic glances.
As the echoes of his yelling receded, the women glanced at each other, brows raised, and burst into giggle fits.
"Best...wedding...EVER," Anne managed, as tears threatened to smear Bon's eye makeup.
"I know, right?! I thought we'd have to challenge him to a fencing duel or something to defend her honor!" the Maid of Honor roared, doubling over with laughter. "This is better than that time I was drunk and a literal inch from the altar with that dude in Indonesia! I think we've had about a week's excitement in like...two hours and twenty-three minutes."
Rising, Bon leaned over the back of the sofa, rapping sharply on the door. "All clear, no balls in the room!" When the door opened to reveal the relieved rest of the bridal party, the seated pair burst into giggles again, shaking their heads.
Meanwhile, Adam had been shoved in the back of a cab, a hundred-dollar bill shoved into the driver's hand, and instructions given to the man to take the inebriated one back to his hotel, identified by a wrinkled business card that had fallen from his drunk grasp.
Klaus had been identified as the troublemaker who'd tampered with the calendars, and he was both surprised and greatly amused that somehow, no other calendars had been consulted throughout the duration of the wedding planning. Tyler had nearly ripped his throat out, before his best man had intervened, assuring him vows would be said and the ceremony completed well before any changes would begin. Probably.
The music had been sorted; a small orchestra who usually performed for musicals at the theater down the street had been engaged, and was now rehearsing with hastily-printed sheet music in the corner of the church Carrot Top had been forced to vacate.
Megan had been rushed out to the nearest bridal store, desperately seeking someone to either bleach her dress, or find a new one in time. She ended up with a gown she loved even more than the original, and miraculously in just the right size.
The dress in question was awe-inspiring. Ivory silk flowed down in layers from a pearl and diamond-encrusted, corseted bodice, the neckline flattering Megan's chest, the color of the garment enhancing her skin tone. She fairly glowed, pleased with the last-minute purchase's appearance, and the fact that any and all event hiccups were being dealt with swiftly.
At last, guests had all arrived and been seated, last minute makeup applications were finished, hairspray had doused the entire bridal party, and bouquets were distributed. Boutonnieres and corsages were in place, ties straightened, cuff links pinned in place. Music was being played, and the flowers were being tossed by a pair of twin girls, distant cousins of Megan's.
Bridesmaids and groomsmen were paired up to traverse the aisle, and when the cue music began, the couples smoothly made their way to the altar. Coming last was of course Bon, as Maid of Honor, and Sid, as Best Man, thumbs-upping each other and grinning wildly at the hassle-free ceremony thus far. As they approached the altar, Bon muttered under her breath. "Think that was it, for trouble?"
Sid cleared his throat, leaning in slightly. "I highly doubt it, but let's hope." They reached their spots and parted arms, moving into position, Sid folding his hands and Bon grasping her bouquet. Tyler was in place, his eyes darting about the church as if expecting Trouble personified to rise from the crowd and blow the procession to hell.
At last the bride appeared at the tail-end of the aisle, escorted by her beloved father. She looked radiant, her steps sure and steady, as she beamed, eyes only on Tyler, her destiny, standing at the head of the aisle, looking seventeen times more nervous than she'd expected. It was adorable, his fidgeting and uncertain expression, even as a smile spread across his face as they locked eyes. They were all each other needed, and even if the church flooded at this moment, if mortar and crumbled stone fell from the ceiling, if she tripped and twisted an ankle in the aisle (Heaven forbid), Megan would make her way to that altar, somehow, and they would be married.
Tyler was calmed instantly at the sight of Megan. His worries were doused as his dark gaze met her warm one, and he felt a genuine smile curve his lips. Her dress, despite the mishap he'd heard had happened, was gorgeous, hugging her shape in all the right places; the material flowed out from her hips and swayed hypnotizingly as she walked. But she was the star, not the dress; her shiny, chocolate locks were coiled into a thick band crowning her head, with sparkling, jewel-encrusted pins shimmering amongst it. Subtle makeup enhanced her wide, evocative eyes, and her glossed mouth was graced with the most enticing little smile he'd ever seen. His eyes on her, he didn't even notice the rustling noise behind him, or the muted whispering, or the priest abruptly stepping away from the altar.
Megan frowned slightly, and finally Tyler turned to look, eyes opening wide with shock when the priest's spot appeared vacated, and a sheepish Maid of Honor met his gaze, biting her lip.
Brows furrowing in thought, Bon mouthed "Be right back" at Tyler, gesturing for him to watch Megan, and then muttering to Sid to take the lead while she and the priest were gone. He nodded, clearing his throat quietly and stepping to the center of the altar. Megan's expression of alarm had only deepened as she progressed, and she looked worriedly from Tyler to Sid and back. Sid smiled reassuringly, nodding, and she visibly relaxed as she reached the altar, beaming up at Tyler as her father released her, and the couple linked hands.
Sid began speaking, winging his words as he went. "Dear friends, family, and all those invested...Er, emotionally in the...fate of the couple who stands before me." A small snigger came from the groomsmen line, followed by another. Then a small cough from the bridesmaids ensemble. Sid sent a glare in both directions, before continuing. "Our resident priest has, um, become a bit ill suddenly, so I thought I'd maybe tell a, um, funny story, while we remedy the situation."
Megan's hands tightened in Tyler's grasp, and she raised her brows at him. He could only return the look, running his thumbs in circles over her hands to calm her. It worked, and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and listening. Before Sid could start, a rustling noise heralded the return of Bon, who stepped up next to him, proclaiming in a loud voice the change in plans. "The minister is quite unwell, so I, as an officiated, erm, wedding person, will complete the ceremony and exchange of vows. Not many of you know this, but I received my...What's it called? Vocational? A few months ago, just in case I ever needed it!" Clapping her hands once, she ran a wide smile across the audience. "Let's get married!"
Conveniently right after his vows were said, Tyler cleared his throat painfully, grimacing and rolling his shoulders a bit to adjust his stance. Red flags shot through Megan's mind. They were all so stupid to not realize this was a full moon. It was absolutely ludicrous, but somehow fitting for this particular wedding, and she would have grinned in spite of herself, had she not been staring in horror at Tyler's rapidly-elongating nails. Claws. Uh.
As he shuffled his feet more, raising a hand to tug at his collar, Megan widened her eyes in instruction at Bon, who quickly summated the Bride's vows. After a hasty "I do", which Megan nearly yelled in order to cover the noise Tyler's tux made as a seam burst, the transformation already altering his shape. The Maid of honor-turned Minister nearly shoved the couple behind her, obscuring the audience's view as they retreated. "That's all for now folks, tune in next week!" A few of the older guests gawked at the odd closing statement, but Bon was rapidly snapping quiet instructions to the bridesmaids, in order to conceal the fact that the groom was in the midst of a werewolf breakout. The bridal party scattered to different corners of the church to distract and guide guests, or elaborate upon reception procedures.
At last all the guests had been directed to the reception area, glasses had been filled, the wedding party reassembled, and copious bated breaths merged into one, as the newlyweds were awaited, to begin the toasts.
When at last Megan appeared, her veil appeared torn, and a section of her skirts hung raggedly from the body of the dress. She quickly seated herself at the head table, and Taran shot a whisper at her, after which she snatched at the destroyed veil in her hair, removing it and chucking it underneath the table. She beckoned frantically to a side entrance of the church garden, where the reception was being held, and Tyler emerged, randomly clad in a new dress shirt and slacks.
The wedding audience, who had seen this odd wardrobe switch at the dinner, when Megan had reappeared sporting her workout clothes, was unfazed, fortunately, as he took his place. Bon, as Maid of Honor, rose, tapping a dainty spoon against her champagne flute.
"I know these things are supposed to be lengthy and poetic and everything, but I'm sorry, I'll have to disappoint. The one thing about my speech I can vouch for is its credibility, erm, how heartfelt it is, if that makes sense. Myler," and here she gestured her glass at the bride and groom as she referred to them affectionately, "You've done a hell of a job organizing so many people, looking gorgeous, both of you, and surpassing so many little hitches in the preparations. I know you'd be just as happy getting hitched in Vegas, or in the middle of a forest somewhere," here she smirked wickedly, "but I'm glad you shared this day with us. You guys rock, and I know you'll float each other's boat just fine." Here she sniffled dramatically, raising her glass and shaking it for effect. "Cheers to Myler!"
The audience echoed her statement, downing the champagne, cider, and various other refreshments that had been toasted with. The vampires, seated at their own table with dividing screens around it, were perfectly out of view as they participated. Klaus was sniggering, staring at Elijah, whom had almost been late to the toast, as he'd been discarding Tyler's torn clothes after his Change. Elijah glared back, adjusting his tie and sniffing, annoyed. Matt and Taran, who had both somehow imbibed about 10 glassfuls of champagne before the toast had even been given, were red-faced and giggling unashamedly, poking at each other's faces. Sid just stared, horrified.
The reception wrapped up a few hours later, the now-married pair barely able to keep eyes and hands off each other, and clothes on each other. Standing simultaneously, they declared their thanks and appreciation for every single guest having made it and bearing with them through the many mishaps of the day. Anxious to be leaving, they fairly ran to the convertible which had been decked out for them, with purple lace for Megan, and brown ribbons for Tyler. Everyone thought the decorations adorable, though they were really only seen at a glance, Megan muttering harshly at the poor chauffeur to "floor it, with extra floor." Then they were gone, streamers waving wildly behind the gleaming car, as they headed to a cabin in the woods, especially reserved for their honeymoon, and old times' sake.
When they arrived, and their chauffeur had deposited their bags and left, Tyler had swung Megan up into his arms effortlessly, nearly battering down the door in his urgency to get them inside. Once inside, Megan fumbled for a light switch, flicking it; after a moment of continued darkness, and standing still just in the door, they swore as one. The power was out. Luckily, the clearing surrounding the cabin, and the dying sunlight allowed them just enough illumination to stumble their way into the kitchen, finding a lantern and some ancient matches to give sufficient light for the occupations they had in mind. They didn't need much, but the lantern allowed them to spot a bearskin rug, a wood-loaded fireplace, and several plush pillows on the couch. They shared a lecherous smirk, racing each other to the heart.
Hope you guys enjoyed. This was a gift for my dear friend Megan. May Myler live in our hearts forever. XO