Rating: M
Warnings: Multiple Character Deaths, Changes in pairings, possible OOC-ness (especially with Ivan/Russia), Boys love, het love

And the last chapter has arrived!

Thank you to Mars for editing this, and thank you to those who have continuously read this story. It was one of my favourites to write, and it's really nice not have my writing constantly ignored. The reviews are always super nice and the criticism is helpful.

It'd be great to have people reading my things in the future as well, because having people I recognize is super nice.

Thank you!

Lily's palms caressed and pleated the fabric of her dress, as she twiddled it between her fingers, letting the silky fabric fall from her hands. She was nervous; more nervous than she could possibly describe. Not only was it her wedding day... but her family and friends had abandoned her long ago to go see what the chaos was outside, and none of them had returned.

"Perhaps we could go look for them?" She suggested lightly, not wanting to make the lord angry. "Brother Vash is usually a brisk runner. I hope they haven't run into any trouble..."

Just as she expected, Ivan turned to look at her with his haunting, unwavering grin. In all the time she'd known him, it had never once dropped. His terrifying smile was one of his trademarks. It greatly contrasted with the dark clothing he constantly wore, besides the light pink scarf tied around his neck. "Eh? We don't need them. We need to get on with the wedding, after all. I'd like to get our move on."

"If you don't mind me asking," Lily began timidly. "Why do you want to wed me, of all people? The young, scrawny girl with no money. The one about to be kicked out on the streets."

Ivan opened his lips to speak, but the mood changed. A cold wind swept through the room. And for the first time, Lily witnessed the lunatic's smile drop. "...Hmmm? What could you mean? You are giving me my share of your wealth, aren't you?"

Lily couldn't comprehend his words, so, quietly, she shook her head no. "...We're broke."

The Russian raised from his seat, and slowly made his way over toward her. She stared up with cringing eyes, terrified out of her wits. She desperately wanted someone to run out and save her. Anyone.

Her arm was seized and she was pulled from her seats, her shaking legs suddenly being forced to carry her weight. His vodka-odered breath stunk in her face as he breathed out warm puffs of hair. "So, I've gone through all of this..." He said with impatience. "I've whooed your parents, arranged us to be wed, and even found us an estate... just to marry a bitch with no goods from her parents?"

"Oi! Fick dich, you asshole." A tuft of blond hair appeared out of the corner of Lilli's eyes, and she turned her head desperately to see her life-long savior standing at the doorway; her big brother, Vash. His face was more meanacing than she'd seen, as he normally kept quite the straight face. Behind him stood an offended-looking witness that looked oddly familiar. However, seeing him was like seeing a ghost... "Leave her alone, or you'll lose your left eye."

Lily felt the man's grip tighten up, and he let out a throaty laugh, too deep to be heard across the room, but haunting enough to make all her hairs stand on end. And suddenly, he had let her go, but a very rough force had dug into her back, making it sting, and let out a small cry as she was thrown against the nearest wall. She hit hands first and her wrists cracked, and within seconds, the young maiden had collapsed to the floor in pain. The witnessing man quickly ran to her side, past Ivan, who was now looming his way in the direction of Vash. While Lily desperately wanted to help her brother, she was incredibly dazed, and in quite a bit of pain.

The Swiss boy knew he'd go through hell later for attacking a nobleman. Hell, he could possibly be put to death, being the help. However, he couldn't stand by and watch his younger sister be touched so terribly. The young angel he'd never raised an ill hand against. Seeing her in such pain and distress was enough to piss him off, and that anger was the mind that brought his hand to the inside of his coat. He drew out a sheathed knife he'd been carrying for years, and quickly rid it of its pouch, which fell to the ground by his feet. The steel glinted in the flickering light overhead, and he crouched, ready to lunge at the drunk groom-to-be at any second. With the image of a flame in his mind, he darted at the Russian, his arm drawn back and gaining momentum to shoot forward, aiming for the pit of Ivan's stomach. He was much smaller and faster than the huge man, so to him, he figured it would be a pinch to take him out.

His arm rattled when the metal of his dagger connected with the shattering glass of a plate, and his hand bounced off uselessly. The knife fell to the floor with a loud clank, and he caught himself from colliding with Ivan within seconds. He fell back on his knees a few feet away, and, shocked, he immediately went for his knife and crawled back.

Ivan dropped the shards of the plate they had just destroyed at his feet, and stepped over them, the glass crunching under his heavy boot. He rolled his neck, pulling at the knot in his tie, loosening it until the black piece of fabric fell to the floor. "You've been quite the nuisance." He tsked. "I have half a mind to kill you right now. The pathetic help. It's not like I'd be punished." He grinned maliciously as he drew out an object eerily similar - but stained blood-red- to Vash's. "I could take your dear sister away as well. Then you can expect her to join you in your underground mansion...~"

His moves were haulted by the door slamming open, and Vash rolled to the side, taking advantage of the hesitation. He leapt to his feet, taking on a fighting pose, as he glared in the direction of Ivan, waiting for him to challenge him once more. But the silver-haired man stood straight, and tucked away his weapon within seconds, his smile turning more kind in the direction of the new person. Vash's eyes followed, and he spotted a blonde woman with a ratted, short hair cut watching them expectantly, her presence and smile reminding him of a cat. "Roddy~" She grinned, and by her sluggish movements, it was obvious she was one of the undead. "Bring your friends. The wedding's about to begin at the church!"

Lily's face turned white as she stared at the man who helped her. He had holes in his skin, and he looked rotted and 30 years older than what he should be. However, she had no time to dwell on the fact that a 5-year dead friend had come back from his grave. She was whisked away in a hurry by him and Vash, who took off running, aiding her to escape Ivan, who was following yards behind at a leisurely walk.

Though he had disappeared within only a minute.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows." Alfred's hands were clammy and sweaty. He was terrified of screwing up. How mortifying it would be, considering everyone in town and their uncle were seated in the pews or standing out on the cold porch of the giant church to witness the wedding they'd been told of. The worst part was that he could recognize over half of them. Some had been his childhood bullies. Some had been his family friends. Some were even his close friends, dead or alive. If he messed up now, he'd be mortified. Still, he raised one arm above his head dramatically as was proper to do so, and he willed his eyes to focus on Arthur. The second he did... he didn't feel so bad. Arthur was cool and collected, with a gentle, comforting smile written across his lips. Though it was a clear mask. Even if he wasn't quite as nervous as Alfred, he still had anxiousness flashing in his eyes. Somehow, knowing he wasn't the only one about to wet himself was a comfort in itself, and he found the confidence to go on.

He turned back to Michelle, who had a wine-shaped bottle in one hand, and a golden cup in the other. Alfred had completely forgotten about this step in his haste to get the wedding started, in between Michelle's speech, and the beginning of his. Though, before this, he'd convinced himself he was completely resigned to the thought of dying. Realizing it was only a few seconds away, Alfred hesitated. "Y-Your... your cup..." He sucked in a breath, swallowing heavily with his eyes digging deep into its gold.

Time slowed down. Alfred could hear the breathing and thumping hearts of everyone around him, though his was loudest of all. It was a sound he'd never hear again. He'd never breathe. He'd never feel his blood pressure rise and rush to his cheeks. His heart would never be warmed. He could see one individual drop peeling its way off the rim of the bottle, falling toward the cup placed on the table. Alfred suddenly saw himself, and he wasn't dying. He had years left to live. He had taken off running from the altar, moved towns, found a nice girl, had children, and never had to deal with corpses or death or pain again. Lily didn't matter at this point. His parents were nowhere to be seen. Matthew was gone. There was nothing tying him to this death wish.

Except his beautiful bride, Arthur, whom was standing right beside him with a held breath.

The drop finally fell into the winecup, and time eased itself back to normal. Alfred let out the breath he'd been holding, and he held out his hand, prepared to take the poison. The cold metal of the gold burned his fingertips. The danger of the contents echoed in his mind. Still, he continued. "Your cup will never empty." Alfred turned back to face Arthur head-on, his mind made up. If this meant he could stay with someone that wouldn't leave him, then... then he'd die. "For I will be your wine."

"Now you, Arthur," Michelle prompted, a smirk that hinted she knew exactly what was coming next.

The Brit seethed at her look. She had to know his plan. She had to know everything. The elder seemed to know things about Arthur before he even knew himself. However, he simply ignored it, and lifted his left hand in the air, laying it atop Alfred's cup. He couldn't feel what it was like; the cold metal pressing into the palm of his hand, or the heat from the liquid that was about to kill his fiance. He didn't know if he wanted to. It would either feel like the promise of a life-long bond or... the ache of a permanent murder. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows." He said matter-of-factly, making Alfred roll his eyes. Arthur scoffed at his look, and continued, his English accent thick and making his words a bit hard to understand for the American. "Your cup will never empty, for I will be-"

Arthur's eyes flickered to the side of the room. Across the way, just feet behind Alfred, hiding behind a pillar, was a young girl. She looked on with a gasp, hiding farther behind it, but watching Alfred with the expression of a girl about to lose her entire life. Her big, green eyes stared with the innocence of a young girl who's never loved, and fright. The Brit hesitated, his breathing shaky. He looked back at Alfred, who raised his eyebrows to signal for him to continue. "For I...will be..." Arthur choked on his words, and he hesitated for the longer part of a minute, eyes flickering between Alfred and Lily, the hiding young girl.

"Go on, dear Arthur," Michelle prompted, leaning forward with squinting eyes. "Say it."

"Your cup... will never empty," The blonde forced himself to stare directly up into Alfred's eyes, which were full of confusion. "For I... will ..."

"For... I will be your wine." Alfred said with a soft breath, unsure whether Arthur had forgotten the vows, or he had just hesitated. Arthur watched helplessly as Alfred raised the cup toward his lips, but before the metal could touch...

"Don't." The Brit pulled the cup back down by the stem, until it had cleared Alfred's lips. The American boy looked at him, speechless, unsure of what he was to say or do.

"He's having second thoughts." Someone whispered out in the audience.

"Serves him right. Two men should never get married in a church. It's a sign against hell! It's-"

"Blasphemy for him to not see he's clearly in love with the teen."

"I can't." Arthur said hoarsely, taking the cup from Alfred, and setting it back on the table with a clang. His hands were shaking as he placed them on Alfred's chest, and he leaned toward him, his old legs wobbly and making him feel off balance. Alfred automatically wrapped his arms back in return, pulling up Arthur's chin to stare at him questioningly. "What's wrong?" He whispered, searching Arthur's eyes for answers.

Arthur took a moment to gather himself before he was able to respond. "This is wrong. Of me..." His eyelids closed. "I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me... however..." He felt his eyes burn, but he refused to let himelf give in. He looked back up into the eyes of his fiance, a clump in his throat as he spoke. "Well now I've stolen them from someone else."

Arthur silently drew out of Alfred's grip, grasping his hand between both of his, and squeezing it as he stared at his feet. "I love you, Alfred..." He took a few unsure breaths, as if he needed them to continue talking. It was pure habit. "But you're not mine."

Alfred felt frantic. He couldn't quite comprehend what was being said. Suddenly, with the promise of him losing Arthur... everything felt too real. His feelings came rushing like a wave to the surface, and he attempted to keep his hold on the man's hands. However, his attention was diverted when Arthur waved for him to turn around, and as he did, the site behind him made his heart do a flip.

"Lily."

The young girl straightened up, her vision focusing on the man she'd been waiting for for weeks. She took a testing step forward, then another, and soon she was able to lift up her long wedding dress and slip her way up onto the podium that Alfred and Arthur had taken their place on. Lily watched disbelivingly as she approached. Alfred was actually there.

However, her hand was gently taken by the British gentleman to their side, and placed atop Alfred's. She felt his fingers wrap around hers, and as Arthur drew back, their hands were entwined with one another.

The American man looked lovingly down at her, and he crouched to her level, looking straight into her eyes with a gentle, caring expression, as if looking too much could break her frail body.

"How touching." A thick, sarcastic voice rang out among the rest. Hundreds of heads turned to look at the newcomer, and within seconds, gasps rang out among the crowd as a certain 6-foot man made his way into the room. His silver hair bounced the moonrays back at the windows, and the corners of his lips pulled up into a terrifying grin. "I always cry at weddings."

Lily took an automatic, defensive step back, and she half-hid behind Alfred, whom straightened up. He could immediately tell this was the man he had been told about. Lily's ex-fiance, Lord Ivan. The dick who had obvious done something ill against her.

"Our young lovers together at last," Ivan began walking down the aisle, his shoes making connection with the floor that echoed across the church walls. "Surely they can be together.. forever!" He reached the podium, staring up at the lovers with a gentle grin. "But you forget... this girl is still my wife."

Ivan's hands snapped out, grabbing Lily by the waist, and she fell off, landing in his outstretched arms. He roughly pushed her behind him, grabbing her arm, jerking her toward the door. "I will not leave here emptyhanded, no?"

Amongst the gasps and confusion and anger among the witnesses who couldn't bare to be involved, Arthur had stood perfectly still, knowing he knew this man. Knowing he knew Ivan. It had to be someone from his past, it just had to be...

"You." Arthur finally hissed, as he stepped forward menacingly. His hands clenched around the fabric of his pants into fists, and his entire body tensed with realization. His eyes widened a great amount, and his body seemed to explode with anger.

Ivan studied Arthur in shock, letting the image of the man sink into his mind for a few moments. "...Arthur?" He said, just as surprised as the formed, though not showing it to the same extent. "But... I left you." He said accusingly, as if he could use logic to prove it wasn't really the Brit.

"...You did, that's correct." Arthur grit his teeth together. "You left me for dead, you bloody fucking asshole."

Gasps and anger and rants broke out throughout the entire room, and people stood, staring at Ivan with a hatred they couldn't describe. Even Taffy growled from the corner of the room.

"This man is delusional," Ivan said smoothly, his voice never changing from its happy tone. "I met him once when passing through town. He died a few weeks later, and he blames it on me." His hands tightened around Lilli's arm and she whimpered in pain, her circulation cut off.

"I've come after you once, and I'll do it again!" Vash emerged from the shadows, while Roderich stayed on stand-by. It was as if the corpses couldn't move closer, like there was a force-field. None of them even attempted to save Lilli. "Let my sister go."

Alfred jumped over the railing of the podium, and took off toward the bigger Russian, obviously unafraid if it meant he was to lose Lily. However, Ivan reacted fast, and he turned, seizing a sword out of the stomach of a nearby corpse. He presented it out ahead of him, making Alfred stop, and the American quickly fell to the ground as Ivan swung toward his head.

"Like, give me that back!" The blonde corpse, Feliks, shouted angrily. "I totally need that later!"

"Oi, take this!" A knife skitted across the ground, under pews, and landed next to Alfred, whom grabbed it rather quickly and scrambled backwards far enough for him to get to his feet. He hopped up, backing against the tablet, just as Ivan decided to swing again.

Alfred stepped to his left quickly and spun around, lucky enough to miss another attack that the tall man was dealing. Ivan was very quick and very dangerous with his sword, and all Alfred could do for the moment was defend himself.

He was backed into a column as Ivan followed up with his next attacks; a swing straight down that Alfred dove to the right to avoid, a horizontal stripe Alfred jumped over, and a slash again to his had that was supposed to catch him during his recovery, but only knicked his cheek. Alfred felt his back hit the stone, and he dodged once more just as the sword scraped just over his head. His bounced to the right as Ivan jabbed behind him, and he took off running toward the opposite direction of the room.

He dove beneath a pew, catching his breath, just when the tip of the sword was jabbed through the wood from the top, barely scraping and cutting his knee. He hissed but ignored it, spreading his legs in a hurry to avoid yet another stab down. He heard the last connection with the wood before he felt it, and it crashed straight down into his thigh. He cried out in pain as it was ripped out, but the sword had gotten stuck in the wood, giving Alfred just enough time to crawl out from underneath the seat and flip around, as he stabbed Ivan in the back of the knee.

The Russian went down painfully, clanking into a kneeling position on top of the pew, as he ripped out his sword and turned toward Alfred menacingly. "...Time to die, da?"

Ivan jumped off the pew, limping toward Alfred, a new fury in his movements, as he swung at Alfred's knife, knocking it to the side. He swung at Alfred, forcing him to duck, but then kicked him in the stomach, knocking him backwards and onto the ground. He straddled him, arms above his head, the sword firmly between them. "We could have played nice."

The sword whistled down toward the center of Alfred's chest, and he knew that, within seconds, he would be dead.

Alfred heard bones crack and the sword cling, but he never felt it make contact with him. Instead, he was met with a badly tattered, dirty, white suit, with a blade piercing straight through the body and out the back. Ivan seemed just as shocked as he stepped back, and Alfred could see that Arthur had intervened, taking the stab directly into his body to save the American from such a fate.

Arthur reached down, grabbing hold of the sword, and ripping it from his body. He held it out at arm's length until it lined up with Ivan's neck, as he hissed demandingly, "Get. Out."

"Oh, I'm leaving." Ivan chuckled, realizing he was at a loss. He turned on his heels, and began strolling back up to the podium where Michelle was still watching with a cruel delight. Ivan's hand reached for the cup sitting on the table, as he raised it into the air, the liquids in it splashing. "But first, a toast to Arthur!" His eyebrows raised in amusement as he spoke tauntingly. "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride."

Alfred pushed himself into a sitting position, watching Ivan with careful eyes. He spared a glance in mutual hurt toward his ex-fiance in sorrow, catching the pain etching itself into the Brit's thick features. He wished he could say something to comfort him, but now was not the time.

"Tell me, dorogoy," Ivan teased, milking as much as he could out of this. "Can a heart still break after it's stopped beating?" He smirked with a deep chuckle.

Back in the pews, Elizaveta and Francis were held back by one or two fingers of corpses, as they both angrily protested, shouting, "LET ME KILL HIM," or "LET ME RIP HIS EYES OUT," the loudest a bug possibly could, not even heard across the room.

A group of corpses had gathered to take on Ivan, though they were stopped by a warning hand wave by Michelle. "Don't attack him, my dears," She said oh-so-casually. "Remember the rules. We are amongst the living."

"Well said, dear," Ivan nodded happily, pleased with the result. In the end, he hadn't gotten the girl or the money, but the prize of winning was much more valueable. Across the room, Vash, Lilli, Lovino, Antonio, Feliks, Toris, Lukas, Roderich, Mathias, Gilbert, Ludwig, Feliciano, Francis, Elizaveta, Bella, Berwald, Tino, Erikur, Yao, Kiku, Samantha, Peter, Roma, and Alfred kept their glares and hatred trained on one object both the dead and breathing wanted gone. Ivan was the person all would give anything to take out. Particularly one heart-broken Brit standing but 2 feet in front of him.

"Bottoms up!" Ivan pressed the glass to his lips and let the wine-coloured liquid slide down his throat. He peeled it away, throwing it onto the table, and walking toward the back exit with his hands casually behind his back, as no one made any move toward him.

However, then he began to twitch.

It all happened at once. The Russian man stopped, and then he began to claw at his throat. His body began to burn and spasm, and his arms twitched as he was forced to fall to his knees. He gasped for breath, panicking, and within seconds, he had collapsed onto the floor.

The poison Alfred was about to drink had worked.

It only took about 15 seconds for Ivan to regain consciousness, and when he had, he was as purple and blue and void of life as any other corpse in the room.

"Ivan Braginski, welcome to death." Michelle sang happily, playing with her hair, legs crossed and propped up on the table. "You can go now, you all. He's all yours."

And with that, the group of corpses took off in a mob, taking the Russian man through the backdoor while he fought against them his entire way.

Alfred pulled himself from the floor unsteadily, his legs bleeding and the crimson liquid staining the fabric of his pants. Lily quickly jogged over to help the best she could, letting him lean on her as support. Her arms wrapped around the middle of Alfred's body, as she spoke lightly to him, rubbing him comfortingly. "Oh, Alfred..." she sighed. "I never thought I'd see you again."

Arthur glanced over at the two, pausing for a moment. A ghost of a smile crept across his face for but seconds, and, silently, he turned back to slowly begin stepping toward the outiside of the church, walking down the middle of the aisles.

Alfred's grin broke when he looked up and saw Arthur departing. "Hey, wait!" He called out, reaching his arm out to him. "You aren't going yet, are you? I mean... I kinda hoped... you'd stay..."

Arthur rolled his eyes, pulling a forced laugh, though the eternal pain he held back was very obvious. "Alfred, you don't have to feel obligated to make me happy." He said in a nagging tone. "Worry about yourself. That cut is nasty. You should clean it up, or it could attract maggots."

Alfred grinned, glad the Brit had somewhat of a sense of humour. "The French ones are the worst of them."

Arthur scoffed knowingly before he continued. "We aren't getting married, which, I can't imagine why we would anymore. I won't keep you locked with me. You're free to do whatever. Besides..." He looked on, to the trees dancing in the dark outside. "Honestly... it was a plan. I was.. using you, Alfred. I ripped away your future just because I wanted to move on, like Matthew was able to. But that was incredibly wrong of me. I'm glad to have met you. I'm glad to have found someone like you I was able to love in the end."

Arthur pulled off the veil that decorated his head, and briskly walked it over, tucking it behind Lili's ears, into her hair. He looked her over with a sigh of satisfaction. "You look stunning." He assured the timid girl as he took her hand, gently planting a polite kiss on the top. "I promise it wasn't my idea to wear that," He assured her, in reference to what he'd just given her. "I would never have chosen such a feminine object."

Arthur slips toward the door once more, his steps even slower. He had no where to go and no one to see. Nothing else was left on his list of things to do. And because of this, he felt a strange peace wash over him, and everything took on a slow-mo effect. He was just... there.

"You could at least stay with us," Alfred blurted out, his words growing a little more desperate as he realized Arthur was preparing to go for quite a long time. "If you don't want to go back. Or just... stay for the party. Just... Arthur... don't go." His words felt pleading and he felt a bit more frantic with each syllable.

"It's too difficult, Alfred, I could never." He shook his head. "Could you imagine living with someone you love who doesn't see you the same? Besides... I'm ready. I don't have to stay and chase some hopeless romance. I was able to help somebody else find their own."

Arthur paused at the doorway to the church, turning around to face Alfred, and that was when the American realized there were tears dripping down both his and Arthur's cheeks. "I don't know what will happen next but... since I probably won't be able to do the same..." He gulped down his sadness and worked through it all to talk. "Don't forget me, Alfred. Please. I need to have... that connection with you."

Alfred's hands clenched and his jaw locked up as he shook his head. "I won't, Arthur! I promise I can't. I'll think of you every night if that's what it takes. You'll never stop existing. You're the Corpse Bride! You're the story that everyone knows! And it'll stay that way. I'll make sure it does."

Alfred watched as Arthur began disappearing. The moonlight wrapped around and engulfed him, and his body began disintegrating from bottom to top, each inch of his body becoming a beautiful, green butterfly... the same colour as his eyes. And just as soon as he had been standing there, he was gone, as a swarm of the gorgeous insects flew up into whatever life was after death.

And then Arthur Kirkland was dead.

Alfred's free hand shakily came up to wipe away his tears, and he felt an uncontrollable trembling in his limbs. Lili helped him to keep standing while he quietly mourned the death of the man.

"Would you like to join the rest of the party?" Michelle asked with a raise of her eyebrow as she stared out, slightly distracted, with her eyes on the place Arthur just stood. If Alfred didn't know any better, he could have sworn he saw the flicker of sadness in her expression, which would have been the closest to caring of Arthur Alfred had ever witnessed of her. "Or get married now, since we already have this ceremony arranged?"

Lili and Alfred glanced at each other, and as the American nodded; it was decided. The two would wed today. They joined hands tenderly, and looked into one another's eyes in preparation for the marriage, however, Alfred took a minute to close his eyes and get himself together.

"I don't know what heaven's like, Artie, but I hope it's nice. I mean, you've only been up there for the lesser part of 10 minutes... but I already miss you.

You saying you loved me made me really happy. It was the first time you'd ever said it. Did you notice? Well...

I love you, too.

Haha, that was my first time saying it, too!

I should have told you when you were alive how much I appreciated you. I mean... I love Lili but... even after all that effort... I'd give anything for you to be back here. But I guess the dead were never meant to interact with the living.

I hope you're happy, wherever you are.

But you'd better not be too happy, because when I die, we're for sure both gonna be reborn together.

Because you'll definitely be my bride in another life no matter what."

I am so sorry if you like/love/are obsessed with Ivan. I know I wrote him like a total monster in this, but it was because he was the antagonist, and I didn't want a cuddly, nice, lonely bad guy who killed on "accident." I love Ivan as a character, so that's why I chose him to play Lord Barkis.

But thank you for reading! Bye!

-Kitkat