Marceline The Vampire Queen Outfits Novels & Stories

But I had to say it, "I'm flattered. No one ever speaks nicely like that to me. I don't know why, but you make me calm, doctor." I saw a glow when awkwardly I saw his lips budge a little bit displaying a hint of dimples. He held himself not smiling too wide. It was more like he was blushing. I didn't know how the incubus worked, but I saw him more like a normal human. The most intoxicating thing was the smell of the sun on his tan skin. I might just miss bathing in the sun. It was hard nowadays to do it without being burned under the sun. Well, I was the vampire queen after all. But I felt an uncanny feeling that I couldn't comprehend.

I chose to go with a light brown shade of lipstick, and let my hair down in it’s natural waves. I exit the bathroom, and find Marcel sitting on the bumped out window seat reading that Stephen King book with his glasses on. He looks ridiculously good in glasses, it still makes me grin a little that my imagination was completely spot on. “I need to get dressed.” “There is a dress laying on the bed,” he says without looking up. I look down at a short blue sparkly dress. “Um okay, well can you leave so I can get dressed?”

Vampires often have an incredibly dry sense of humor that really isn't even humor at all. I lowered the hood of my cloak and turned to see the Queen, dressed as if she were attending a ball. She had on a very tight fitting 17th century styled gown, in deep purple with a corset that wouldn’t allow for breathing if she needed to do so. She had on enough jewelry that if sold could feed a small country for a century. “Looking lovely as ever, I appreciate you seeing me before twilight,” I said, stepping forward and kissing her hand. Vampires rarely shared a greeting such as this but she was titled and it was appropriate. She would be offended if I didn't recognize her for her position. Not that s

And she did not disappoint. “Is that a garbage bag or a dress? Please, go take it off, you are hurting my eyes. Where are the stunning dresses? You ain’t going for a funeral,” Marilyn took off her glasses, taking a sip of her protein shake. All that was a guise. The shake did nothing to her, as werewolves we were very athletic looking and had really fit bodies. She flipped through several dresses and then stopped at a red bodycon, it had a slit which snaked to the upper thigh. Even before I put it on, I knew that was the dress for me.

She thought it was funny that they feared their Alpha, but did not realize that if what Selene said was true, they should really fear her. After breakfast, the twins escorted Marcia to the library, where the pack seamstress was waiting with the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. Pure white with embroidered moons along the bottom edge of the tulle skirt, a fitted off-the-shoulder bodice, and hints of iridescent threads going throughout. As soon as Marcia saw it, she broke down in tears. It was perfect.

The morning went by so quickly that I was surprised when the guards knocked on the door, signaling that it was time. “Already?” I asked. Cassie turned me to look at my reflection in the mirror. “Now there’s a queen if ever I saw one,” she said, smiling from ear to ear. I gasped at my own reflection. I was...I was perfect—far more beautiful than I ever hoped. My dress was made entirely of lace, cascading down from my waist in rippling waves. It was a subtle blue, as werewolves don’t get married in white like humans do. I chose blue because it reminded me of Oliver’s eyes. The top was strapless, corset style, accentuating my chest in a sultry but regal way.

The woman pulled the laces tight. I made a sound I didn't mean to make. Like all the air got pushed out of me at once. There was no silk against my skin this time. It was body armor. Heavy and stiff and so tight around my ribs that every breath I took had to be small and careful. The kind of tight that reminded you it was there every single second. The dress on top of it was dark red velvet. Heavy. It touched the floor all the way around. That was the point... it covered the gun strapped to my right thigh completely.

She looked like a GenZ baddie. Since they were going to have fun, it wouldn't be wise for her to go with a gown hence the change. Her hair was brushed and made into a cornrow by Izabelle and after a few minutes, she was good to go. “Do I look pretty, Mommy?” “You look extra pretty. See how lovely your face is.” “Thank you.” “Are you both done?” Marcel walked into the room in a casual dress. He was wearing black free pants and a turtle-neck white shirt and his hair was combed backward. Izabelle coughed. He looked really hot.

“Okay, I’ll go in now.” The sooner I was out, my raven hair was curled swiftly. I had to make it in time that’s why everything had to be done in a hurry. Vampires wore dull colors; I had a perk for bright colors but today I was going to wear something the Queen would very much prefer. “Yellow or anything bright, as usual, your Highness?” I grinned, knowing today was going to be different. … I walked with my six escorts as I strode on my way to have a tea with the Queen. My outfit was a black entirety, as if I was a Goddess of black. Specially asked that my makeup was specially to her taste, a smokey eyeshadow and a glossy lip.

Each piece of clothing felt like a mask she’d have to wear—another armor for the battlefield she was trapped in. Her mind raced with thoughts of her mother — fragile, alone, maybe fading fast — and a burning rage ignited deep within her. How dare he stand in the way? How dare he wield her pain as a weapon? She pulled out a dress, the silky fabric cool and smooth against her skin, a stark contrast to the fire raging inside her chest. Marceline stared at the dress in her hands, and for a moment, she let herself imagine a world where she could wear it freely—without fear, without chains, without the suffocating weight of Cross’s cruelty.