A/N: Not much to say. Still working out where this is going. Enjoy. Am trying to work in a lot of implied lore from the series into my story.

Until the End - Part 2 [Adventure Time]

‘Marshall Lee…’

Even his name sounded so like hers… It was as if the fates were playing some sort of cruel joke on her.

Bonnibel narrows her eyes at the vampire, her jaw rigid. She says nothing, for the emptiness within her has been replaced by a deep, roiling anger whose heat could have rivaled the very flames of the Nightosphere itself.

A lazy grin tugs the corners of Marshall’s lips and he steps toward her, two hands tucked behind his head.

“Aw… Does my presence offend you milady?” He asked, amused; arching an eyebrow at her as he witnessed her shoulders begin to shake somewhat. “Silence is no way to greet a fellow monarch you know.”

After a long, tense moment, the queen looks into his eyes, her face studied into a mask of indifference.

“Yes.” She said bluntly, her deep violet orbs flashing dangerously. “It.” She stepped closer to the king. “Does.”

In the span of less than half a second the queen whips out a handgun and shoves the barrel roughly under the vampire’s chin. In these dark times the queen never went anywhere without a weapon holstered at her hip.

“Ooo I hit a nerve didn’t I?” He chuckled somewhat despite that his head was being forced into an awkward angle by the gun.

“Do not think for one second that I will hesitate to splatter your brains all over these walls,” The queen said darkly, cocking the hammer of the gun with an ominous click. “Now tell me, how did you get past my guards and why are you here? … Murderer.”

“Murderer?” He feigned a look of confusion as he shoved his hands into his pockets. After another insistent shove of gunmetal into his flesh he snapped his fingers as if he figured out the answer to a game show question. “Ahh! You mean Marceline… Oh that poor girl. The end wasn’t kind to her you know… But such is the fate of traitors.”

“Answer the question you son of a bitch.” She ground out, finding her composure slipping with every moment that passed. It didn’t help that despite the promise of death looming over him the king was acting like they were having a damn tea party.

“Temper, temper…” He tutted. “I came to see you of course, since you refuse to respond to any of my official correspondence. Beyond that, you should know that this property lies in the bounds of my Kingdom’s territory. ‘You’ are the intruder here… As far as your guards, let us just say that they are- Indisposed.”

“I do not negotiate with tyrants nor do I recognize their illegitimate claims to the territories of Ooo.” She hissed, unsettled that one man was able to fight through an entire contingent of Royal Wardens. Still, if this man had a death wish she was more than willing to oblige in the wardens’ stead.

“Look lady, I’m not an unreasonable guy, I’m sure we could talk this out in a more ‘civil’ manner.” He said, red eyes glinting impishly down at her. “Besides… I think we both know that before you even pull that antique’s trigger I could snap your neck six ways to Sunday.”

“I’ll take my chances.” She said. “And as far as ‘negotiating’, the only terms I will ever agree to is the complete withdrawal of your demonic spawn from my lands,” Her teeth glinted a harsh white as her lips drew back in a snarl. “… And your head on a pike at the Candy Kingdom’s gate.”

A thoughtful look crossed the vampire’s handsome features and his smile faded somewhat. Bonnibel felt her gut twist uncomfortably… Even his expressions were a dark facsimile of the deposed Vampire Queen.

“Then I am afraid we are at an impasse aren’t we?” He mused, his eyes trailing sideways. “However, I do have a certain trump card in my corner… Finn?”

Suddenly, a dark silhouette materialized above them in a crouched position on the ruined roof.

“Finn, come and greet our esteemed guest.” He called out, a smirk twisting his lips as the man jumped down into the room, his boots resounding heavily on the scorched floorboards.

“What…?”

Bonnibel’s heart sank as she beheld the teenaged adventurer. His skin was blanched almost white and his once brilliant blue eyes were dull and lackluster. An ursine helm made of polar bear fur had replaced his white head wrap; but it wasn’t this detail that shook her, no. The most disturbing change was what now sat on top it.

“The crown of the Ice King,” Marshall says, gesturing to said object with his thumb. “… Brilliant thing really, brimming with deep magic even older than me… I knew you would be seeking it after we got rid of that old fool.”

“What did you do to him?” Bonnibel shrieked, her gun betraying the anxious tremor in her body as it shook somewhat against his chin.

“The Ice King? Oh the demons had a fine time with- Ah, you mean Finn. Of course.” A dark sneer lit the vampire’s face as he stared down the barrel and straight into the Queen’s eyes. “… You see, the crown is already cursed with the spirit of an ancient monarch of the the Ice Kingdom. It calls to humans in particular.” He snickered a bit at that. “That same spirit speaks to them, changes them and infuses frost magic into their very bones until they become no more than its vessel for this world.”

“Finn is of a noble heart, he would never willingly succumb to such trickery,” The queen spat, feeling her chest constrict painfully when Finn said nothing to his defense.

“A noble heart he may have, but humans are of the gullible sort… After my sources got wind of your quest for the ancient artifacts of Ooo, we knew the Ice King’s crown would be one of the most obvious to obtain, after all he was already dead. Cursing the crown and leaving it for him was laughably easy…”

Bonnibel’s eyes flicked to the crown. Ghostly tendrils of frost rose from intricate nordic runes carved deeply in the angular planes of its golden surface. The red rubies that once adorned its fore had darkened to a sinister black.

It was true… But was the hero truly too far gone?

“You… You can’t leave me too Finn!” She croaked, “You’re the last Champion… And my friend. You promised you’d come back…”

Not so much as a flicker of recognition appeared in the hero’s blue depths as he stared at the scene before him impassively.

The vampire king raised an expectant eyebrow. “Do I have you attention yet your highness, or should I have your beloved champion fall upon his own sword?”

Her stomach twisted painfully at the idea of the adventurer’s death. A strangled growl tore free of her throat, her fingers tightening on the trigger until she was mere millimeters from firing a bullet straight through the vampire’s skull.

“… Bastard…” She was practically trembling as her rage and frustration reached a sudden crescendo, then abruptly ceased. “You’ll pay for this with your blood.”

The gun dropped with a resounding clank against the blackened floorboards.

“Ooh, I like it when you talk dirty to me.”

His fangs glinted in the pale grey light, his lips twisted up into an expression that might have been a smile if it hadn’t been so terrifyingly predatory. She barely had time to contemplate taking a step backwards before he had her shoved against a wall, her hands pinned above her head. Air was propelled roughly out of her lungs with the sudden impact and she grunted in pain and surprise.

“Now… This is what’s going to happen Bonni,” He purred, tucking his lips behind her ear.

“Don’t call me that-” Her voice came out as a low, spiteful hiss through her teeth as his cool breath sent disconcerting prickles of goose flesh to rise on her neck. “Don’t you ever call me that.”

In a husky rumble, he opines. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do my lady.”

She was about to spit in the vampire’s face before he suddenly bent down his head and rasped his fangs against her delicate neck. His tongue soon joined; sliding languidly across the soft pink flesh and pausing over the Queen’s jugular.

Bonnibel glared as an angry flush rose to her cheeks. The most humiliating part of this was that he knew… That the sensitive nerves of his vampire tongue would tell him of the thundering of her heart. He would feel the shuddering of her breath as well as listen to the way it quickened in her throat.

But perhaps the thing that added the most insult to injury was the fact he even smelled like Marceline… And if not for the stubble on his chin lightly scratching against her skin she would have sworn it was her.

“Enough!” She growled and kicked out her legs, to which he simply tightened his hold on her hands and floated upwards, dangling her in front of him with supernatural strength.

“… And here I thought we were having fun…” He said with mock regret in his voice .
“Just get to the point you-“

“We’re getting married. Aren’t you ecstatic?”

With that, he nodded to Finn and in response the cursed human simply turned off and disappeared into the dank shadows of the house.

“I…” Bonnibel was at a loss for words as her stomach churned in displeasure, bile rising to the back of her throat. “… You really are a crazy psycho aren’t you?” She asked wearily.

“Darling, you have no idea.”

Marshall’s voice was smooth as velvet but held an edge that could cut glass. Without another word he loosened his grip on the queen and let her drop, but before she hit the floor the vampire scooped her into his arms and took off for the entrance of the cave.

End Part 2

A/N: w00t

A/N: A little forewarning. This is my first AT fic and it is definitely an AU with a fairly dark theme. I would say that the setting is post-apocalyptic but seeing as Adventure Time is already set in such a world I think that would be a bit redundant. Anyway war is ravaging the land every thing’s on fire and everyone’s dead blah blah blah. J/k. I just took a few ideas about the existence of demons and vampires and liches and ran with it. And before anyone says anything, no, this is not a fic that ‘straightens’ out everyone. I ship Bubbline forev. However, I also love Marshall Lee. XD And boy do I have plans. Anyway, enjoy my word vomit. =P

Until the End - Part 1 [Adventure Time]

It’s been a long time since she’s been to this place, she mused as she ducked her head to avoid a cracked beam hanging from the ruined doorway. As she entered the dark, incinerated living room she dimly registered a certain heaviness growing within her chest with every step she took. The reeking stench of scorched wood still permeated the chilled, humid air and she had to steel her will to keep from turning on her heel right then and there. She was on a mission and despite her personal feelings she had to soldier on, for her people, and to a lesser degree, perhaps for herself.

The land of Ooo was not as it was. War ravaged a blighted landscape soaked in the blood of thousands and thousands of living beings slaughtered with all the infernal ferocity of demons. No sooner than one battle had ended than preparations have been made for another. The results of which were devastating; Kingdoms had been rent asunder, villages and townships desolated. Only the realm of the Candy People stood as a bastion of hope in the midst of an unbearable darkness. That is, her Kingdom.

She was no longer a princess, nay, in light of the systematic dissolution of the monarchies of Ooo through assassination and conspiracy she was made a Queen. Queen Bonnibel Bubblegum, reigning monarch of Ooo by default. Her parents would have been proud, that is, if the two scientists had survived the initial slaughter.

It was not a position to be envied. Every day was a fight for mere existence and refugees flooded from every corner of the land. There was not an inch of her kingdom that had not suffered damage from the war; some, like the outskirts of the city had been decimated and left for rot. Along with the physical damage the emotional toll on her people was unspeakable. Most had been displaced from their homes and some had even taken refuge in whatever little space remained in her castle courtyards and common areas.

She did her absolute best for them, listened to their needs and tried to ease their suffering even by just a little. Her council, however, was troublesome. After the dissolution of other nearby Kingdoms she found that the surviving members of their royal families came rushing to her like flies to dung. The only feasible way to retain peace and keep power play at a minimum was to improvise a parliament of sorts to advise her and vote on major goings on in the Candy Kingdom. One of the biggest issues was the allocation of what little resources they had left, something she always had to go through the council for for approval. It was an issue she had little patience for. People needed shelter and food now, not when a handful of imperialistic ‘butts’ decided to take action.

‘Butts… When was the last time I used that word to refer to anyone?’

She thought wearily, her throat tightening somewhat as her mind began to conjure up a face almost forgotten.

There were times that she wished she could simply go over their heads but to do so would alienate previous allies who had ruled over many people that have since taken refuge in her city. Order and peace were of the highest priority and so when needed she simply drew from the nigh bottomless well of her patience and stood her ground, politely hounding the council into doing as she wished. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. It was almost intolerable. However, she was just as stubborn if not more so than even the most snotty and self-important members of her council, it was all simply a matter of who could last longer.

Blowing an impatient puff of air through her nose, she kicked aside some burnt detritus as she rummaged through what was left of the incinerated house. The item she was looking for was one of many that could turn the tide of war in their favor, however, it was one that held very personal connotations for the candy queen.

‘Where the heck did she put it…?’

Finally, after fighting through the destroyed ruins of the house and so far coming up frustratingly empty handed she came to the bedroom. She squinted her eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light. Gone was the darkness, replaced with an oppressive gray akin to night, the space suffused with a permeating mist let in by the collapsed roof. Her eyes instinctively turned to an area where she distinctly remembered a bed being and she swallowed heavily.

‘This shouldn’t be so hard… She’s gone… She’s never coming back.’

Being a monarch in the midst of a war, she was accustomed to heavy loss. But she just never grieved for her beloved the way she knew she should have. She hadn’t gotten drunk and had barely spared a tear. It all just seemed so surreal. In the end, Marceline proved a hero. She had hoped that the Vampire had had a good reason to leave her and she had her reason now. Her lover had gone to give up her life for her people. However, instead of engaging in honorable battle for the regency of the Undead she was ambushed and captured.

The following day she was executed by the blazing rays of the morning sun.

Bonnibel was not informed of her fate until weeks later. That is, weeks after the initial attack of demons that spewed from the now open portal of the Nightosphere. When she heard the news she was at the time embroiled in a siege on her city. An emissary from Marceline’s kingdom came with a request from the reigning Vampire King for her unconditional surrender. Bewildered, she of course had politely told him to shove the piece of parchment he waved in front of her into his lower bowels before correcting him of the gender of his monarch. With a rather ugly sneer he told her what had befallen the Vampire Queen before immediately launching into a tirade about how her cowardice had proven her downfall and then exalted the ‘glorious’ victory awarded to the current monarch.

Not even bothering to learn the king’s name she ordered her guards to drag the emissary from her sight. She didn’t shed a tear. Casting her eyes out to the reddish haze of the fires engulfing her city she realized that she could not afford to mourn, not when so many were still suffering themselves.

It felt like eons since the vampire had died, ages since they had shared a bed or had a conversation. She had done her best to understand the crooked, scheming woman since first they met. It was the classic story of a princess stuck in her ivory tower and the undead queen who epitomized freedom itself with her cavalier ways and devil-may-care attitude. Marceline was like an abused animal; wanting for companionship but wary of being hurt. To meet someone like her, who stayed near but was ever reluctant to truly connect was the experience of a lifetime. She was aloof and at times cruel, but so constant. Marceline could be cold, but she never left. Whenever the princess felt lonely the vampire would come to her, as if she knew. She would sing for her and the truth in her lyrics was almost heartbreaking. Her rakish smile comforted her; her voice compelled her. It was wonderful.

She felt her eyes sting somewhat and her throat tightened as she remembered a particularly harrowing incident with a door lord that had stolen something very precious from her. Marceline, whom she had had a falling out with at the time sang her a song then too. And once again the truth spun out in the fine chords of her voice almost made the princess cry. Only that time, she was the one that needed comfort… But did the princess give it? No. Her damnable pride got in the way. In fact, Marceline was the first to apologize. After wards, Bonnibel finally realized what she had known all along but was too proud to admit.

“You were never the problem Marcy… I was.”

She jumped at the sound of her own voice, surprised by the almost involuntary admission. Pausing in her exploration of what used to be a bathroom she allowed herself to say aloud what she had been dreading about this trip.

“I’m in your house… But you’re never coming home are you?”

Marceline was dead. Her Marceline. She wanted to feel something for it. Anger, sadness, anything else a woman should be feeling after such a terrible loss. Alas, she felt nothing but the same burning emptiness. She had been trying so hard, for so long to be okay that she had never allowed herself to feel.

“What is wrong with me?”

She said into the air, feeling tears prick at the edge of her eyes but knowing that they would not and could not fall. Shaking her head she made her way towards the closet and kicked down the remains of its doors. This was the last possible place to look for the elusive item but when her eyes befell the floor she felt disappointment twist her guts as she discovered it empty. Just like everywhere else in the house. There truly was not a single trace of Marceline left in this horrible place. She sank to her knees, hanging her head as fatigue finally overtook her. Bonnibel was covered in soot from head to toe, bruised from falling wood, aching from digging through piles of debris and in the end had nothing to show for it.

‘This was a waste of time… I should have known that she would have taken her axe with her.’

She knew not how long she sat there before she finally found the strength to stand. Sighing, she was about to turn around before a wry voice calls out from behind her.

“Lookin’ for this Princess? Or wait- is it Queen now?”

The voice is teasing and almost familiar, and for one overwhelming moment Bonnibel thinks it might be- She whirls around, but once again finds herself met with disappointment and no small measure of shock as she beholds the intruder.

It’s a vampire, definitely of the male persuasion and he’s looking at her with a crooked smile and raised eyebrow as he strums a blood red axe bass sitting on his lap. He floats in the air like he’s lounging on a couch.

That was indeed Marceline’s Axe…

Bonnibel narrows her eyes at him, her eyes surveying his appearance as her body tenses. She has to stifle a gasp.

… You could almost call him beautiful. Almost.

A red flannel shirt, matching converse and dark skinny jeans enclose long sinewy arms and legs. His wild mane of short, windswept black hair falls into crimson red eyes that adorn a face that is angular and youthful, lit up by a mischievous smile.

‘His face, those eyes… It’s… They’re…’

“Marceline…” She murmurs, her fingers touching her lips.

The Vampire’s ashen face immediately darkens and his mouth twists into an expression of displeasure, a fang curving over his lower lip.

“Marshall Lee.” He says bluntly.

She blinks in confusion and he clears his throat impatiently as his feet touch the ruined floor.

“Are you deaf or something? My name is Marshall Lee.” He corrects as he steps before her, looking down at the queen with eyes blazing red as embers. “Marshall Lee the Vampire King.”

End Part 1

A/N: Yay. =)