Author: Emo Fox PM
Marceline pays a late night visit to Bonnibelle.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Drama - Marceline A. & Princess B. Bubblegum - Words: 1,456 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 17 - Follows: 2 - Published: 02-27-12 - Status: Complete - id: 7876972
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I love these two characters. I don't know if I kept them perfectly in character, but this was just an idea that popped into my head and I wanted to jot it down before I headed off to work.
By: Emo Fox
It was raining.
Or, more accurately, storming.
Or, to be even more precise, it was a torrential downpour; the clouds black as ink, the sky swirling in a mass of misguided hatred, lightening cracking the sky in arcs of white before fizzling out of existence like lost ghosts.
Some might say it was the worst day ever, but to Marceline it was perfect.
It was well past midnight and the Vampire Queen found sleep evading her. Ever since the business with the door lord she couldn't get her mind off of what Princess Bubblegum had said—or how she looked in that shirt she had given her.
Slumped against the window sill she listened to sound of rain, the heavy beats almost drowning out the thoughts in her head. If she listened close enough, long enough, the rain started to sound like a song and she'd begin to hum to the tuneless noise, making up words in a mumble as she closed her eyes.
But, distractions were fleeting, and her thoughts would circle right back around to the prude princess and she'd start to feel a messed up inside again.
What was wrong with her.
Marceline wasn't one for brooding.
This felt so foreign, which was probably the main problem; she just didn't understand what she was feeling or how to fix it. She didn't know where the words came from when she started to sing earlier that day, when she basically poured her undead heart out in a chewed up mess at Bubblegum's feet and the girl just stared at her with that pissed look on her face.
Marceline flushed, hiding most of her face in her arms as she stared with sightless eyes just beyond her window.
What was Bubblegum's problem?
Especially when her favorite thing was the shirt she gave her. Bubblegum was a mixed bag of crazy apparently—who ignores someone, shuns someone, gets pissed constantly at someone, yet secretly covets something that person gave her?
It didn't make sense.
It wasn't even a band; it was just a generic rock shirt, so it wasn't like she was a closet fan or something.
This meant something didn't it?
Marceline slumped even further, hovering just an inch from the ground. Did she want it to mean something? Ugh. What was wrong with her?
It wasn't like Marceline didn't understand what attraction was, or what feelings were, she had an idea—she dated quite a few vampires during her thousand year lifetime, but this didn't feel the same.
With vampires it was more just a way to pass the time, a way to pretend to be mortals or something, to be attached where there didn't need to be attachments.
This was different.
Somehow, it was, though Marceline didn't know why it was, or even what was different.
It was all just confusing.
Marceline found herself floating higher, her body moving without thought around her home; in minutes she was dressed to go out, a huge black rain cloak covering her like a shroud as she floated out of her home like a zombie.
Within minutes as she high above the land of Oo, rain pelting her from all angles, the slick fabric of the cloak doing its best to keep the rain out but splashes still drenched her face and hair. Her gaze was set, her mind was made, she was going to go to the Candy Kingdom.
Lightening flashed, illuminating her, her silhouette melting into the swirling darkness of the sky above; the rain like stones pelting against her back as she floated on, impervious.
As she reached the main gates she turned invisible, the hissing of rain and the flutter of the limp frightened cotton candy trees was loud enough to drown out her thoughts of doubt.
Marceline flew right on by the guards who were more distracted by trying to stay dry then looking out for wrong-doers(not that they could see her on account of being invisible and all anyway); oblivious to the movement of the castle gates opening and closing with a quiet whisper, the sound of rain much too distracting and loud for them to notice much else.
Drips of water followed her invisible pursuit, hitting the pink plush carpet and staining like drops of blood as she hovered up the steps towards the main hall and eventually to Bubblegum's bedroom.
The sentries were vigilant, but none wise enough to look down and catch the ethereal rain drops as they fell from nowhere.
As the last guard turned the corner Marceline slipped into Bubblegum's bedroom, her rain-slicked shroud discarded in a heap of the floor, invisibility forgotten as she travelled into the safe gloom of Bonnibelle's bedroom.
The princess was sleeping in the center of her bed, a dot of pink among a mass of much darker pink blankets and pillows. The entire room shone with a surreal pinkened glow, the walls polished, the floor perfectly cleaned. The windows were covered by dark wine colored drapes, the heavy fabric the only different shade of color in the entire room; yet it somehow clashed well.
Marceline floated towards the mattress, running her cold fingers along the post of the bed, around the side, until she was hovering just a few feet above Bonnibelle herself. The princess slept on, blankets pulled up to her chin, her face smooth and innocent.
The vampire's hand hovered in the air, moving closer and closer to Bonnibelle, until it was just inches away, her fingers itching to pull back the covers and see for herself if the up-tight princess really wore the shirt she gave her to bed like she claimed.
It mattered somehow, though Marceline didn't know why.
Bonnibelle's face glowed in the nearly absence of light the bedroom provided, her plump pink cheeks shimmering with an unnatural glow, her plush lips parted as she breathed, the wetness of her tongue just peeking beyond.
The princess was made of candy, an animated construct of sugar whose personality was somehow the opposite most times; a little too prudish, a little too arrogant, hiding under a candy coating that fooled most, but not Marceline.
Did she even have blood? She breathed, she ate, she was alive, but could she bleed?
Marceline's fingers itched, her dark eyes flicked to Bonnibelle's sleeping face. If she sucked the color out of her, could she regenerate it, would it just flood back in as if nothing happened?
Marceline found herself leaning closer and closer, their breath mingling as she moved towards her cheek, her lips inches from touching that sticky sweet face. Her fingers clutched the top of the covers, claws digging in as she fought with herself.
She drew back her lips into a soundless hiss, fangs exposed, lips just brushing the side of Bonnibelle's face—
Then, the Princess stirred, and in a moment Marceline was gone—the curtains flailed like giant wings, the window slammed open against the side of the castle walls letting the harsh wind and rain in.
Bonnibelle gasped loudly, awoken by something, her fingers instantly touching the side of her face as if expecting to find something wrong. Only, there was just a cold tingling feeling, which she would later blame on her faulty window and the rain.
With reluctant, sluggish movements, the princess raised from the warm safety of her bed, clad only in that ratty old rock shirt, the fabric barely reaching past her hips. She sauntered heavily towards the window, rain causing her feet to soften where she was unable to avoid the puddles on the floor.
She slammed the window shut again, the curtains billowed in a huff around her shoulders as she stared out into the night.
There was a blemish against the darkness of the sky.
Bonnibelle squinted, she could have sworn she saw something—but then it was gone, lost in a flash of lightening. Probably just her imagination.
She returned to bed, slipped back under the covers.
In the morning she'd discover the rain cloak.
In the morning she would question the previous night.
In the morning she'd guess at what that silhouette was she saw.
But, she'd never figure it out, and this wouldn't be the last visit Marceline would make.