A/N: You guys are the only monsters I can really scream at when it comes to my OTP, so I'm going to annoy you briefly by demanding you listen to the song found under this link (copy and paste, yo): watch?v=M4V8sGl4coE
It's what I, as a professional Bubbline shipper, would totally claim is their relationship's soundtrack. It sounds like it would be in Adventure Time, reminds me of both simultaneously, and it's good fun. Promise. Let me know what you think.
-Chapter Two-
And so, the throne for the Queen or King of Vampires- for there is only one monarch- is a pile of bones collected from only the most worthy of slain brethren. It is extremely uncomfortable, as the Queen or King must retain the ungobly power to hover.
And the crown is a strung collection of dried ears, each bitten off and cured in baby oil. It is to be worn around the head, the pointed ends stabbing upwards-
"Oh puke," Bubblegum griped, closing the book titled Bleh! It had been written for vampires by vampires. Which meant it was wrapped in vampire skin, and written in vampire blood.
Apparently, they were really into recycling.
And gardening, surprisingly.
She stretched, back stiff from pressing against the narrow shelving of her tomes. She calculated it to be just after midnight with a yawn, rubbing her eyes.
"Oh man, you're reading that? It's boring as spit."
Bonnibel jumped, looking up past the glow of her lantern to see the Queen of the Vampires herself. Marceline was laying on her back midair, her head tilted back to eye the girl below. Her dark hair cascaded to the floor, only an inch away from touching it.
Oh no, how long had she been there? The princess had just itched the inside of her nostril in a most distasteful manner.
"Marceline?" she stammered, struggling to sound authoritative. "How'd you get in here?"
The vampire pointed to the still shattered ceiling. Most of it had been repaired, but a large section held the night sky at bay under a tarp.
It was chilly enough for the Princess to wear a hoodie over her jeans, though her hair was tied up in a studious manner.
"Why are you still up?" Marceline cocked an eyebrow, something akin to mischief written all over her face. "You aren't worried about the tools I told you about earlier, right?"
"Just had me curious…why aren't you an active ruler?" Bonnibel gestured to the dried up book. "This almost sounds like something you would enjoy."
"What, sending armies across the land, drinking every man, lady, and child dry? Bashing people's skulls in and breathing in their red mist? And for all eternity—that gets boring after a while." She ghosted backwards in a languid sweep of her arms, as if she was just floating in water.
"Is that what the vampires want?" Bonnibel asked, her thumb sliding across her first two fingers. It was a habit from usually having a pencil to make notes.
"It's what some of them want," Marceline said, brow furrowing. "Creatures evolve over time. You become less feral and more civilized. It's the fringe part of us that refuses to let go of their crusty old ways."
"And they won't do this without a leader who wants it?"
"I'm not a dictator," the queen scoffed. "Technically, I'm not even 'active.' They can do whatever they want. But it's frowned upon. If they actually got a foot in the royal door, well…" Marceline shrugged, face all too casual. "You'd all be dead."
"So, because you're immortal, they'd have to kill you to assume the throne?" Bubblegum asked slowly, piecing the information together.
"Yep," Marceline popped her lips. "There's no royal family. It's not passed down through a blood line. It's taken with blood."
"You killed your way to the top, then," Bonnibel murmured, recalling the scars she had only caught glimpses of. Marceline's jeans and plaid button up shirt would cover any of them now.
"Honestly…I did it because it took the pressure of my shoulders to do the Nightosphere," the queen muttered. "Any time dad tries to lug it off on me, I tell him I can't do both."
"You and him really don't get along, huh?"
Marceline's eyes flicked her way, and for a second she saw a flash of the crimson she had seen up close earlier.
"Bonnie, I'll talk about anything else but that."
It occurred to the princess that for once, the two were just talking. Not arguing, not bickering, and not teasing. And that the queen had been quite open.
"Fair enough—why are you here?" she asked instead, drawing her knees up to her chest. Her cheek was tingling, and she wondered if vampires didn't have some sort of biological chemistry in their lips.
Marceline's brow furrowed, said lips parting.
They were quite full, a shade of grey only a little darker than the rest of her skin…
They move so smoothly too. Oh carp, she's talking, fool! Pay attention!
"—don't like owing people. Honest, I didn't mean to crash land here. I leapt from the top of a mountain and got some mad air. It was all very," she shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head. "Spontaneous."
Recalling the utter word vomit that had fire raided from her lips, Bonnibel chose her words carefully now. She pressed her finger tips together, pointing them down.
"I would've saved Finn's life if he was in the same predicament. I'm not going to let a friend die."
She chanced a look up, eyebrows leaping.
Marceline paused, twisting so that she was upside down, eyes level with Bonnibel's. She cocked her ashen head, and they scanned her pink face.
Which was suddenly burning…why?
"We're friends?" the vampire asked, her sincere confusion taking the princess aback.
"Well…" Bonnibel began slowly, eyes searching. "Of course we are."
"Shut up," Marceline hissed, head whipping away to glare down the shadows beside them.
Bonnibel's face twisted in offended shock, her mouth ajar. "O-or not—!"
"No, I mean, shhh!" Marceline snarled, pressing a hand to her mouth. At once, Bonnibel understood, but before she could even try to follow the girl's gaze, the vampire grabbed her around the waist, summersaulting them up so quickly that the lantern was blown out.
Bonnibel's feet spun over her head, her guts knotting, and she braced for a fall.
…That wasn't happening.
Her eyes popped open, making sense of the scene. Marceline was holding her bridal style, crouched low atop bookshelf. And her arms were wrapped around the queen's neck.
And they really needed to stop ending up this way.
"You said she would be here," a voice growled, snaring her attention. She stared down, her arms unconsciously tightening around Marceline.
"I said I smelled her blood!" snipped another, this time coming from the left.
Her eyes were adjusting to the shadows below them, and the princess watched as a long, bony and pale finger dragged across the floor, its claw leaving a scratch.
It rose up and under a bald and lumpy head, pointed ears sticking out.
"Looks like it's been cleaned."
Another head appeared, this one almost scaly looking. As if a bat and lizard had fallen in unfortunate love. But wait—that couldn't be right…
"Is his nose—?" Bonnibel almost mouthed.
"A pear. Yeah. I bit the real thing off," Marceline breathed into her ear. And now Bubblegum was sure there was something in the lips of vampires, because she felt a long shiver roll down her spine.
Oh, enough of this nonsense!
"Marce, if you owe me AND these guys are on your tail, you should kill two birds with one stone," she hissed.
"I see what you did there," Marceline said. "But those dweebs aren't worth the blood you gave me. Or the saving of my life, for that matter."
"So you gotta save my life to make us even?" Bubblegum replied.
And Marceline turned, pale star light tracing her brow, her cheek bone and jaw. It lit the skin of her dark hair into a shimmering blue, skimming her lashes.
It was suddenly very hard to swallow. And Bonnibel's brow dipped. What the error is going on with me?
"Sounds 'bout right," Marceline murmured, rich and slow. There was the glimmer of red in her eye, like blood peering out of a paper cut.
Bubblegum's mind made the sound of a car engine stalling. Why was everything so dreamlike, despite the danger curling under their feet?
So heavy? Like she was under a spell…?
A spell? Vampires could hypnotize couldn't they? Something about attraction and saying 'bleh!'
And saying it a lot. Like way too much.
And wouldn't it be just like Marceline?
"Well, two can play at this game, you pumpkin eater cheater."
Oy, fat tongues—
Wait. Oh spit.
"…What?" Marceline asked, her brow furrowed, and Bonnibel's nose wrinkled as if her self loathing smelled.
Oh GOB, I said what I was supposed to think and thought what I was supposed to say—YOU IDIOT! REVERSE! REVERSE!
"OY, FAT TONGUES!" Bubblegum burst, the vampire before her flinching back.
The vamp tramps below hissed, staring upwards with gooey orange eyes, their teeth looking more like razor blades than anything. The one with a pear for a nose shrank back.
"What it is?" he cowered.
"I don't know. It's giving me fear," the other muttered, and his ears drooped.
"It's just so… pink."
"You want Marceline?" Bonnibel hollered over them, slipping from the vampire's arms to stand.
They nodded meekly.
"You gotta go through allll this," Bubblegum growled, gesturing to her body.
"What? GIVE US THE QUEEN!" Nasal Pear snapped, thick black hair rising over the skin of his back. The other lurched onto the book shelf, making it sway beneath their feet, and Marceline shrugged with a nod, obviously impressed.
"That'll do it."
She rose, stomping a red boot down.
With a roar of wind she flipped forward, shifting midair into a monstrous bat.
Her jaws peeled back, revealing sword length fangs in a hiss, her leathery wings unfolding like a cobra's neck fan.
Her webbed talons crushed the vampires underneath them, splintering the floor, and Bonnibel marveled at the sheer power in the girl's toes.
I bet they could crush boulders, geez.
"No! Your highness, please!" the ghouls cried, gripping the death toes.
"We came to apologize! It was all Jeff's idea!" Fruit Nostril sobbed, his face turning purple under the strain.
"Jeff?" Bonnibel blurted. "What kind of vampire name is Jeff?"
"Well?" Marceline snarled, her head slithering down into the beasts' faces.
"What—?" Lumpy started.
"Answer her, you rude donkey!" the queen snapped.
"I don't know!" Lumpy wailed.
"And why should I forgive you, maggots?" Marceline glowered in disgust, her wings folding across her chest in an oddly human sort of way.
"You don't understand. There are things happening among us! Terrible things," Pear urged. "We were all united by blood thirst. Then some of us changed. Got all fancy pants. But those who didn't—they're tired of being looked down upon."
"So "Jeff" decided to usurp the throne, and regain authority, once more bringing in a reign of blood drinking," Bonnibel summarized.
All three vampires peered up at her. She rolled her eyes.
"Jeff wanted to kick your cans so he could rule."
"Right! But once you escaped, and the awful Jeff lay slain, we realized the error of our ways!" Pear moaned. "We knew we had to find you. And beg you to return to the throne! You're needed, Marceline, Vampire Queen!"
They kissed at her lethal paws, groveling the best anyone could under the bone crushing weight of a demonic bat.
Marceline's foot jerked up off of Lumpy, as if fire had erupted across his dimpled body. "Oh gross, it sounds disgusting coming out of you."
With a snap of her neck, the much more human Marceline popped back into existence, her red boot gagging Pear into watery eyes.
Where did her clothes go when she turned, anyway? Bubblegum's fingers snared into fists. Glob Dermnit is there not ONE logical thing about you?!
And darn that black haired siren. Darn her to—did the princess dare to even think it- heck. Oh. Apparently she did.
Because more than ever, the queen had the princess's utter and complete fascination.
Everyone else was just so straight forward with what they were. Everyone but her.
"Get out, you squares," Marceline sneered. "And if I ever catch you near me again, I'll skin you alive and make me a new pair of boots."
They scurried away like rats, and the vampire turned, gazing up at Bubblegum.
"Whelp, you and I are officially even," she said all too smugly, running her nails up and down her shirt before checking them.
Of course, the princess felt like it was anything but the truth. If there were some sort of score board, Team Bats would have a crushing lead.
At what? What game are you playing?
And she? Lose to the likes of Marceline? Some grudge grunge goddess of spew?
And putting her in some sort of haze?
Un-uh. Peebles don't play that jazz.
"Should I have it notarized?" Bonnibel scoffed, rolling her weight to one hip and placing her hand there.
She watched as Marceline's eyes flickered down her body, and as they climbed back up a smile etched across those lips.
"Well, someone's a Sassy Sal," she murmured, moving to stand under where the Princess stood. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"
How did she know Bonnibel was to sleep at ten-?! Focus. She's pulling her whack hocus pocus. She doesn't know jack.
"You wish. C'mere," Bubblegum crooked her finger.
And was that a flicker of uncertainty? Was that Marceline's tall glass of too cool for school twitching?
But it was only a second.
And in another, the queen was inches away, lean face all too eager. Ready. Hungry?
"I believe I'm a freed hooligan, sugar," Marceline lifted her chin, looking down a fine nose.
"Yes. But being an official, I like to have my contracts…" And Bonnibel paused with purpose, leaning forward. Her hand touched the vampire's cool neck, nails grazing the two puncture spots forever branded in her grey skin.
Marceline's eyes grew wide, and heart pounding, knees strained rigid to keep from shaking, Bubblegum tucked the black waves of hair over a pointed ear.
"Sealed," she spoke into it like a microphone. And then, before she could stop herself from being so unlike herself, she pressed a kiss to the vampire's cheek.
The skin under her lips was cool, as if always wind chilled. And sure, she had brushed up against the girl before (because Marceline was ALWAYS in her face), but on skin as sensitive as her mouth, it tingled almost numb.
Marceline inhaled, motionless in surprise, and for a girl of grunge, she smelled like wind. Like a bowl of stars raining down a dark sky. Like the shadows in a river.
If it sounded too vague to pin, it was because it was just another discovery of enigma. Just another dead end in her mind.
Bubblegum finally pulled away, hoping she was masking her defeat. But hark, the sound of an awkward rocker!
"I…Alright. You…" Marceline was struggling. She was moving back, Bonnibel's hand falling from her neck.
"You're weird when you stay up late," the vampire laughed in a breathy way, her fingers scratching black hair back across her ear as her eyes darted everywhere but the princess.
Triumph bloomed inside Bubblegum, and she was giggling too, a hand covering her mouth. "Look at your face! If those vamp tramps saw you now, they would feel lame for fearing you."
"Right, and if your subjects saw you, they'd think you were spoiling up there," the queen shot back, not missing a beat. "Gob Bonnie, I should keep you up more often."
"I'll let you if you can keep up!" Bonnibel gleefully shouted, watching the vampire roll her eyes over that toothy grin.
Watching as she floated back up to the rim of moonlight above. "Go to sleep, you jellybean!"
"Whatever, tooth fairy!" Bubblegum called after her. Wow, she was wide awake. She never felt so…so alive.
She dropped her hands to her hips, face flushed but smug. "Way to comeback, Bonnie," she whispered to herself.
It took a few seconds for her grin to fade, her foot tapping.
"…Right. How to get back down. Fifteen shelves up. Perfect. Smooth, Princess. Real smooth."
Curses. Marceline takes the lead.