#werewolf family

[artist-issues]

ohhh it’s like maybe an allegory for the coronavirus lockdown?

…okay i get why putting that under a microscope would have fearful elements but like what about a werewolf and transforming into a non-understanding beast lends itself to that wait I just got it.

If it’s like “We were all under lockdown and isolation and all we had was out-of-proportion fear-flavored social media to connect with, i.e. we felt like everyone around us was changing into non-understanding monsters, so we turned against them” okay, I get it.

But it’s probably not a 1-to-1 allegory.

If it was, a werewolf story is still a really weird choice of premise for that. Because like how are you going to resolve it?

The mom would need to come up with a way to reach the dad, in his werewolf-ness, by realizing that A) something about the infection and his actions as a werewolf is completely fear-motivated and then B) she has to come up with a way to calm the fear that’s “exacerbating his condition” in order to talk him down. Re-establish understanding.

Except the fear was amplifying our inability to understand one another during the lockdown, which led to bad communication. But bad communication is what caused the fear in the first place. So like. It’s a circular problem.

I think I’m talking myself into wanting to see this movie.

But he still looks like stupid Big Buff Gollum. Not a werewolf. So also, why would I see this movie.

You know what I would do? I would have the family established as kind of bad at communicating in the first place—like, that’s their real-world problem—but it’s brought to sharp focus because of a new scary thing happening in their life.

Like, maybe they’re moving. They’re moving, because Dad just lost his job and has to get a new one in a totally new town. He’s scared that his failures are snowballing, and he won’t be able to keep this job either and provide for his family. Mom’s lowkey scared of that, too, and he can sense it, (for some relatable reason, like maybe because her father walked out on her family after losing his job when she was a kid) and it’s creating tension in the marriage.

Maybe the dad was fired because he tried to pull off this big business risk that everyone older and more seasoned than him was telling him not to do, and he did it anyway, because he’s prideful, and it blew up in his face. Then, to make matters worse, he recently stumbled into a destructive habit to cope—like, maybe he came home drunk for the first time, ever, after getting fired, and the Mom didn’t even really know he had a problem with alcohol up until this point.

So he’s scared he’s losing his family because of his mistakes, and his mistakes happened because of a fear of…losing his job and then losing his family, when he felt pressure at work in the first place. So he’s been doing a self-fulfilling prophecy thing to himself. The wife’s starting to struggle with that, too. She’s processing the fact that he’s lost his job and moved them and also maybe has a problem with alcohol or whatever substance abuse—she’s still processing it. It would be one thing if what Dad did just affected her, but they have a daughter.

And Daughter is still learning what to fear and what not to fear. And she’s learning it from Mom and Dad, who are both figuring out how to make her feel comfortable with this move, but there’s marital tension getting in the way.

So when we meet them, they’re driving a moving truck to their new home. The dad is overcompensating, insisting on being the one to drive all through the night, doing all these little things to try and prove he’s got it all covered (even though he just lost his job for making a dumb big-ego move, and then freaked his wife out by coming home drunk the same night.) Everything he’s doing to prove he’s got it covered is actually fear-based pride, and it’s just making the wife a little more tense with him, because him being so insecure and stressed is making her feel insecure and stressed. Plus, their circumstances as a family just got rocky overnight, and she’s had very little time to process. So every time she offers her two cents in any given situation, or tries to help, he takes it as a lack of faith in him and brushes it off, and she takes that as him pushing her away. Which he kind of is.

And then there’s the Daughter, who has no idea what’s happening, she’s young, she’s never moved anywhere before and she really just needs her parents to clearly communicate that everything is going to be okay because they love each other no matter what else changes—actually, let’s make that the Main Point: “Family Shows One Another That They’re Loved, No Matter What Else Changes.” That’s the point of our werewolf movie.

But! Her parents aren’t doing a good job of teaching that to her right now, because they’re not relying on one another anymore. The Dad needs the Mom to show him that even if he fails, she’ll stick with him. But because he’s afraid she won’t, he’s not communicating that that’s what he’s afraid of. So he keeps making all these fear-based macho decisions, and it’s a vicious cycle. (WE’RE TITLING THIS MOVIE “VICIOUS CYCLE”, DO YOU GET IT, LIKE CYCLES OF THE MOON)

And the Mom, she needs the Dad to show her that he won’t give up and hurt them (emotionally or physically) because of mounting pressure. She is showing him that fear, but that’s all she’s showing him. She’s not showing him faith that he can stick it out. The daughter doesn’t even know what to be afraid of, she’s learning that through the movie.

So! That’s where we meet them. And then they’re driving their moving truck through Creepy Nighttime Woods, and Mom’s like, “I can drive if you need a break,” and Dad just shakes his head and shrugs her off all “I-Got-This”, do you get it, it’s a mini-example of their whole issue.

There’s uncomfortable silence, the mom looks back to check on the daughter, expecting her to be asleep, but she’s wide-awake and doing that kid thing where they stare and keep their ears open and just observe their parents’ weird interaction. She’s just holding a little stuffed dragon animal, sitting there, an antenna to catch all their mysterious marital subtext.

Daughter asks Mom how far they are from their new house, and Mom looks at her phone and says, “just an hour, sweetie,” but then Dad answers at the same time, “three hours,” and points to his own GPS, and the Mom realizes their phones are mapping different routes to get to their destination. The Dad picked a route that supposedly has less traffic and isn’t on the freeway. That’s why they’re in Creepy Nighttime Woods.

Mom says something like, “why are we going this way,” and Dad reacts with nervous, reassuring “Leave It To Me” language, but it’s tense—

And then BAM Something comes out of the woods. In the middle of the road.

Dad swerves to avoid it, Mom screams his name in fear (and a teensy bit of involuntary resentment, the knee-jerk “why is the vehicle you’re driving suddenly moving so shockingly” way) and the whole moving truck topples and wrecks. It can be like in the trailer where the Dad comes to with the truck half-hanging off a steep drop, Random Guy in the passenger seat falls out, gets nabbed by some beast, scary scary.

(The Random Guy needs to be there for story-later reasons. Maybe he’s an ex-coworker and friend of Dad’s who feels bad that Dad got fired and offered to go with to help them move, like a real bro. But he’s asleep when the first interaction between Mom and Dad happens)

But you know what I’d do, the monster that takes Random Guy would look like a Beast. A big hairy animal. A frighteningly fast, slavering, bristling creature.

Dad has already helped Mom and Daughter out of the precarious truck when he sees this happen to Random Guy. Then just like in the trailer, the Beast jumps up, trying to get at him in the vehicle, its way too fast to see, but it only gets one crazy slash in before falling. It’s attack upsets the delicate balance of the truck, and Dad, bleeding from the cut, climbs out and tells them to run. It’s just in time, too, because the truck goes smashing down the drop.

They do, Daughter alarmed and asking, “what?? what is it?” and Mom not wanting to run because she didn’t really see any of that with the Beast, and all of their possessions just fell down the embankment plus it’s not really normal to start running from the scene of a car wreck and their friend Random Guy is down there, assumedly buried under the truck now.

But Dad screams at her about it, which is pretty out-of-character and a motivating tipoff to Mom that something immediately dangerous is happening, so they all take off. They don’t know which way to go, there’s a tense moment where they stop and Mom is arguing with Dad because of that, then a horrifying Something makes a Sound somewhere between roaring and screaming nearby, and they all panic again and flee.

They catch sight of the dilapidated one-story house, which looks empty, and Dad breaks in. They all huddle inside, and the Sound happens again—they look out the window Dad broke to get them in, and through the fog and darkness, there’s an even darker mass on the edge of the woods. It’s just a vaguely moving blur on the horizon at first, but then they see the steady evil lights of two predator eyes, staring across the yard.

Mom shrieks that it’ll get in through the hole he made, and they block that up in a blind panic while Daughter stands against the wall behind them, staring with big eyes at her dad’s bleeding arm. They wait to see if it’s coming, but it doesn’t seem to be. No more loud guttural bellowing either. After a minute or two of heavy breathing and silence, Daughter starts crying for her stuffed dragon. It got dropped in the woods during the chase scene. Mom goes to comfort her, while dad remains at the window, leaning against the bookcase, looking at their surroundings.

They’re in a house that’s partially wrecked. There are photographs in shattered frames on the ground of an old man and his grandsons. The old man is the only one holding a fish, and he’s smiling, but the two grandsons in the picture look uncomfortable. Like they don’t know him very well. There are also several broken beer bottles on the ground, and whoever used to live here apparently left in a hurry.

Dad goes to call for help. They left their phones in the truck, but the old man who lived here apparently had a landline. Who has landlines anymore? Dad tries to use it, but it doesn’t work. Well of course it doesn’t. Because who has landlines?

Mom is taking Daughter away from the window and a subconscious protective instinct makes her want to get the kid in the center of the building. She sits Daughter in a bedroom, which was closed, but the door opens to reveal that unlike the rest of the house it’s a dusty, neatly organized little boy’s room with bunk beds. It looks even more deeply untouched than the rest of the house.

Daughter starts to ask where Random Guy is, still crying, and Mom says they don’t know, but—and then Dad sticks his head in and interrupts and says Random Guy is “checking on the truck,” which is believable to Daughter because she’s little and didn’t see where Random Guy went, but it’s a lie, and Mom is surprised he’s dealing with the situation by telling a lie, even if it was to protect the daughter from immediate trauma.

Dad catches that look, and almost like he wants an excuse to get away from it, he says he’ll go get Dragon and check on the truck. Mom immediately protests—she thinks they should all stay there, because of obvious reasons, but she doesn’t want to freak Daughter out by mentioning the dangerous Thing they just escaped. Daughter also doesn’t want Dad to go anywhere, which heartens him.

Dad compromises by saying they’ll have a slumber party, then he’ll “check on the truck” in the morning. Daughter doesn’t like this idea, looking around at the dark strange house; her adrenaline is still pumping and the concept of “bedtime” is immediately terrifying. Fears brought to the forefront of her little mind, she asks what that scary roaring sound was while they were running.

Dad takes her from Mom and sets her on the bed. He tells Daughter “it was Dragon, protecting you, out in the woods. Remember what Dragon’s job is?”

“Protect the Princess.”

“That’s right, Protect the Princess.”

The Daughter may or may not be buying this explanation. “It was scary,” she says tremulously. Dad glances warily at mom and keeps it going. “Well sometimes being scary is part of the job. He has to be scary, and roar like that. To scare anything bad away from you.”

Daughter is sort of calming down, because mom has found a different, dusty toy dragon in the boy’s room. This one is a plastic action figure instead of stuffed, but she hands it to the Daughter, sort of helping to ground the kid in their new surroundings. Daughter asks if this is their new house, and Dad says it’s not, they’re just “borrowing it” for the night because nobody’s here, but “after Dragon comes back,” they’ll all go to their new house together.

Cuts to Mom easing herself out from underneath sleeping Daughter, and kneeling down next to Dad. He’s on the floor, unrolling dusty sleeping bags onto the bunk bed’s other mattress. She asks what they’re going to do, and he says he’ll go out and get their phones from the Truck as soon as it’s light, and call for help. As he’s saying this, he’s having a hard time using just one arm to get the sleeping bag unzipped. It’s been out of use for a while.

And this, so much longer after the fact, is the first time Mom notices his arm wound. She reaches to help him, alarmed and saying something fast like, “what is that? When did that happen?” but he pulls away on a reflex (because ouch) and says, “it’s fine,” then, trying to sound cavalier and a little funny so she doesn’t worry or get her feelings hurt that he pulled away like a child with a scab, “As long as I don’t touch it. It got a little piece of me, but it’s fine.”

This is the kind of personality the Dad character has. He’s very charming, but his personality naturally lends itself to kind of put-on, casual bravado at default.

She wants to clean it. He says he can do it, she can stay with Daughter, and goes out to look through the abandon house’s medicine cabinet. While he does, we can have some quick scary flashbacks cut in, between his tired dirty face in the bathroom mirror and the freaky-blurred-glimpse of teeth and snarl-wrinkles from the attack in the car, and predator eyes in the dark.

Traumatized, he makes sure all the doors are locked, sits on the couch for a little bit with the vague hope that his friend Random Guy isn’t dead and will come staggering up to the door, finds a shotgun in a montage of poking around the house, and then he’s exhausted so he tries to sleep with his wife in the kid’s room. It’s fitful. Because of course it is. And his arm, bandaged now, looks worse. He wakes up in a sweat at dawn and finds that he’s alone; his wife is now curled with their daughter on the bunk bed.

Dad stares at them for a moment, then gets up, rubbing his injured arm, now like triple-wrapped in a bandage.

Cut to Mom exiting the bedroom, careful not to wake Daughter, mindfully removing the now-empty sleeping bag from the area with a concerned glance down at the bloodstains on it. She looks up and around for Dad, and, when she makes it to the window, nudges a crack in the makeshift barricade just in time to see him, toting the shotgun, heading into the woods. She looks helplessly over her shoulder at the bedroom, and then strains to keep him in view as long as possible.

—-

Dad goes out to the wreckage of the truck in dense morning fog and there’s a gradually-mounting, tense sequence of him poking around. First of all, when the truck swerved, it apparently crashed and snagged on more than just a tree—it hit an old telephone pole and took it and the phone lines down with it. No wonder the stupid landline doesn’t work; he wrecked that like he wrecked keeping control of the truck. It’s all downhill from Dad noticing that.

Like, literally! Maybe he can slip trying to get down the steep drop (after all, he has to try and get their phones) and it’s the fault of his injured arm. He loses his grip on the shotgun during that fall and it’s out of view somewhere.

No worries; things are slightly less scary in the day, and he can at least see any predator coming. Besides, there’s a blood trail leading off into the woods where Random Guy was taken…so it’s throat-closingly awful to think about, but maybe the Animal is full, for right now. He looks like he’s considering following that trail, but then remembers the top priority.

First Dad tries to get into the cab of the truck, where he can immediately see that his own phone is totally smashed. I like the idea of it buried under a few other hard objects that were flying around the cabin during the wreck, and one of those is a case of beer.

When he tries to climb into the backseat, where his wife’s phone was last seen, he catches a glimpse of blood smeared across the rear passenger window (which is now pressed into the forest floor, because the truck’s on it’s side.) This blood is in a completely different place than the trail of blood that indicated Random Guy, getting dragged away from the scene of their wreckage last night.

So it’s not Random Guy’s blood. Did the truck squash the creature that attacked him as it fell? If so, how did it follow them back to the house?

Dad doesn’t have time to figure that out, because there’s Something in the woods. He can’t see it, from where he is in the fallen truck, but he can hear it. Heavy breathing. He listens for a second, terrified, staring helplessly out at the shotgun which he can infuriatingly now see through the front windshield, cross the clearing where it rolled after the fall. But after an eternity of listening to leaf-mold crunching and labored breathing, he suddenly hears a human sound. Like a groan, warbling its way out of a weirdly-deep bass breath.

So with that, he decides to get out of the truck. He creeps out, because even if it is a human, he has to pull himself headfirst out of the cab’s window-facing-the-sky, with an injured arm, and that’s a vulnerable position, and he doesn’t know who’s out there. But he does it anyway, because it sounds like the person’s in pain. Even if it doesn’t have the voice of his friend Random Guy.

So Dad drags himself up and sticks his torso out of the car with a, “hey,” and at first the audience is treated just to a view of him looking uphill…and all we can see in the foreground is a pair of grimy bare feet, the legs of which are tense and jerking around like the rest of the body is in a silent-standing-wrestling match with something invisible. The jerky almost-seizure movement is causing the only sound: slightly rustling the leaves. When Dad turns his head and looks in the direction of the camera, at the owner of the trembling bare feet, his face is transfixed with horror.

Well do kind of a pan from around the back of dad’s head just in time to catch a glimpse of what is probably a man—but something’s wrong, he’s moving all hunched over and there’s something scary about how fast, and he might be naked??—stumbling out of sight into some brush with one throaty wordless noise of fear. What’s also horrifying is the otherwise mute-strangeness of the encounter—Dad does not call out to try to get the person to stay.

He pulls himself out of the truck and staggers over to the shotgun. He picks it up and starts following the trail of blood, with many a look over his shoulder, creeped out by the hobo or whatever-it-was that he caught a glimpse of. (It’s the werewolf who slashed him, but it’s dawn, so he caught sight of it mid-transformation back into a guy, that’s what I’m trying to say.) But in his other trembling hand is his wife’s phone—also smashed. The case has one of those clear backs that you can slip a Polaroid into, and there’s one of Mom and Daughter swinging on their old home’s porch swing. He can’t go back virtually empty-handed, with no answers about their friend and no working phones.

Dad finds Random Guy’s corpse at the end of the trail. It is not graphic, I don’t do graphic. But we see enough to know that it definitely is a corpse, and that, weirdly, Dad’s look of horror and revulsion slowly fades after crouching down beside the body. (The actor’s gotta be real good at nonverbal narrative.)

Dad actually drops the wife’s phone and reaches for his friend’s bloodied arm with a very unsettling look on his face. He doesn’t look disgusted or afraid or grieved, he looks something else. There’s heavy animal-breathing, apparently coming from his own imagination, getting louder and louder in his head. But then he blinks at his own arm as it reaches, an inch away from touching the gory limb, trembling. Dad blinks again, like he’s seeing his own bandage for the first time somehow. He comes to himself, and now there’s real horror in his eyes. He stares at his bandaged arm, then the bloodied stump he’d been about to grab, then out at the woods. He grabs the shotgun, and stumbles backward away from his friend’s body. He’s practically fleeing the scene, as if he killed the man.

Cut to Dad picking up Dragon, the stuffed animal, where it fell, bundling it into the same grip he has on his wife’s useless phone. He’s got one hand full of those and the other still carrying the shotgun as he enters the house.

The next scene would be Dad kind of trying to tell his wife what happened out there. She asks if he saw what It was (there’s no need to clarify what “It” refers to, though she’s hoping it was a mountain lion or something.) He says no, and looks very troubled, probably remembering the hobo and trying to figure out what that has to do with anything. Mom sees his face and asks, “What?” meaning, “what’s wrong? What is it?” But he doesn’t like her to ask concerned-questions, so he says, “I don’t know, nothing,” and adds that he thinks the truck took a chunk out of the animal. Maybe in a joke about the phones also being crushed in the wreck, trying to alleviate the disappointed-stressed reaction that gets from Mom.

She wonders how it could’ve followed them while it was hurt, and he says he thinks maybe it was sick, not in its right mind, rabid or something. He’s kind of a know-it-all, always likes to have an answer for everything, plus he’s shaken, so pretending to have answers helps. She immediately says “rabid?!” And wants to see his arm. He hesitates, because ouch, and also there’s a flash of the sight of Random Guy’s bloody body in his mind’s eye—he doesn’t want to look at any more blood, even his own, out of a vague wariness that he’ll experience into that same weird trance again.

But then Daughter comes out and squeals excitedly at the sight of her stuffed Dragon toy, safely returned. The conversation is put on hold.

All of this takes about twenty minutes of the runtime. I don’t know, measure timing was never my strong suit.

Over the next day, the couple is keeping Daughter entertained and avoiding prolonged conversations, except for when Dad tries to convince Mom that he should go and look for help; he’ll just follow the road they came down to a town. She puts this off in hopes someone will pass by, instead; yet Dad keeps bringing it up. But he can’t hide the fact that he’s getting sicker, and she really doesn’t want him to leave the house. She’s more for the idea that they all go together, if anything—but what about Daughter? If there’s a wild animal out there, how do they justify taking her with them?

He says she should just trust him to go get help and be back before nightfall so they can clean up this mess. But she argues that he should not just leave she and Daughter in a stranger’s abandoned house in the middle of the woods, the territory of a possibly-rabid man-eating predator, with no phone.

They fight. Which is sad, because Dad is having a hard time keeping up with the argument, let alone winning it, because he’s running a pretty high fever at this point.

He wasn’t going to tell her about the possibly-homeless disfigured person he saw, but he mentions it by accident as they go back-and-forth, because he’s not thinking very clearly, (being ill.)

The whole argument he’s like clutching his hurt arm and fumbling irritably with the bandage—the argument starts while he’s trying to unwrap it to check the wound before a dinner of cold cans of soup—and Mom tries once or twice to get him to sit down and let her do it, but they’re both distracted by the argument they’re having. Now she’s really mad and a little worried, because hobo, what hobo, what is he talking about? He didn’t tell her about a hobo earlier. What did he see out there?

Daughter is hearing all of this, even though she was told to stay in the boy’s room and play. She creeps to the door and tries to watch the bickering match, but the floor squeaks and her Dad somehow hears it, halting the argument. Mom goes to reassure/scold her, which interrupts the mounting argument, and gets her a can of soup.

When she comes back to the living room, she and Dad share a more tender moment. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks so exhausted and sick, and still doesn’t seem to have the motor skills to unwrap the tightly-wound bandage. He’s just flopped there, picking halfheartedly at it. Besides, if he can’t even do that, she’s basically won—he’s not going anywhere tonight.

During this tender scene she makes some sweet gesture like sitting next to him holding his hurt hand in hers, and quietly saying, “This thing took the fight right out of you, huh?” Then she starts undoing the wrapping, and adds, “you could’ve just let me help you.” She’s talking about the bandage, but also she’s talking about everything else. He just stares at her—because this is the kind of conversation they need to have, and her softening toward him feels good but also mounts that constant pressure, because he really does love her and he really is sorry for all this, but how can he convincingly communicate that without it seeming like an admission of defeat? Not just for the wreck. For the wreck of their lives.

But when she does unwrap the bandage, his cut looks…fine. The skin is red and angry, there’s definitely something going on there, but the actual rip in the flesh is miraculously healed over. It should’ve needed stitches for that. What the heck is going on?

So he gets to have a kind of delirious line with a smile, like, “see, maybe I don’t need help.”

But she doesn’t like the loopy way he says it and checks his forehead, and he’s burning up. She goes to the landline and we can have that scene in the trailer where she tries to reach someone with it: “We were attacked by some animal, I think it was sick, it infected my husband, we need help,” but of course she’s not getting through to anyone.

And he just looks at her in a sad stupor, from the couch, because of course he also didn’t tell her that his truck-wreck knocked down the landline, so that mystery is still a mystery to her.

But then there’s a sound of crying from upstairs. Mom tells Dad to stay put and goes up to find Daughter distraught. She’s in an upstairs bedroom, by an open window. The night air is ruffling the curtains. Mom doesn’t like that one bit and shuts the window, sitting her daughter on the bed, then on further thought goes to try and nudge a bookcase over in front of the window. Might as well have all entrances barricaded. But then she notices that all the books have been tumbled onto the floor (they haven’t been in this room yet.) And when she looks over at distraught Daughter, she sees that the bed isn’t just mussed up—the sheets are shredded.

Mom steps back and out of the room, towing Daughter with her, her face a mask of confused horror. What happened in this abandoned house? Did the wild animal get in here, at one point?

Daughter sees the look on Mom’s face and stops crying, because she’s getting more afraid of whatever could make mom look like that than she was upset about…whatever was making her cry. Mom asks what that was. Daughter tearfully claims that Dragon fell out the window. Mom huffs and sighs and hasn’t the current frame of mind to play along—she says, “you threw your Dragon out the window? Honey—you know we’re not going outside, why would you do that?”

“So he can fly and get help from the town for us and Daddy doesn’t have to. But he didn’t flap his wings! He just fell!”

Mom comforts Daughter and takes her back to her room. It takes a while of playing and promising to go get Dragon the next morning (nobody’s going outside during nighttime, she threw him into the backyard and there’s no back door so you’d have to go all the way around the house in the dark, are you crazy) before Daughter will calm down.

But when she comes back to check on Dad, he’s non-responsive. She’s distraught. Ten minutes ago he was smiling and a little of his bravado-humor was coming through, and now he’s twitching and making really guttural noises. She’s very upset by this, because this on top of everything else? Is he rabid? She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to wake Daughter or let her see how sick Dad is, obviously. So she gets him upstairs, into bed, but he’s thrashing around in the torn-up sheets when she leaves him to try the phone again.

I like the idea of dragging this part out. Because if the scare-factor of the movie is “horrible breakdown in communication is causing hurt” then the right idea is to have the transformation into a werewolf be gradual. And that’s the scary thing. With little moments of hurt before the actual now-it’s-going-to-kill-us transformation.

What am I doing, I’ve spent way too much time on this

BASICALLY in the course of this second-night-in-the-house the dad would do lots of strange, upsetting things. He disappears from the bed upstairs and Mom finds him in weird places, like the basement. (Like in the trailer.)

He’s hallucinating about the moment he came home, drunk,to tell her he’s lost his job, and then hallucinating the day he came home and sprang the news on her that he’d decided they should move, and then hallucinating the resulting fight they had—but she doesn’t know that. She just sees him standing in the dark staring at nothing and shaking. She tries to talk to him and he just looks at her blankly; we get a glimpse into his perspective, just like in the trailer. He can’t understand what she’s saying.

She tries to lead him back to bed and he goes, the first time. As they stumble up the stairs she’s saying things like, “Come on, honey, two more, step up, do you need to rest?” but he’s hearing her say things like “Do you know what you’re doing?!” Like she did before accusing him of “uprooting our daughter’s world, all her friends are here,” or, “do you know what you’re doing?” back during their honeymoon when the car broke down and he tried frustratedly to analyze the problem. Or sometimes the things he hears her say as they inch their way across the landing don’t make sense at all, and that’s when he tries to talk back and ask her “what? What’s happening?” And all that’s actually coming out of his mouth is weird, gurgling snarling noises.

The second time she goes to check on him he’s curled in a ball in the bathroom on the floor, not moving at all, so tightly that at first she doesn’t even know what she’s looking at over there against the tub. When she realizes it’s him again she tries to wake him up and get him back to bed again, but maybe his eyes are actually wide open, he seems to be wide awake, he’s just not moving. That’s freaky. But she gets over it and decides to try and examine his arm while he’s so still—and he lashes out and spazzes, and she gets out of reach just in time but as he flails he busts a hole in the wall next to himself.

He doesn’t seem to even notice that he’s done this. Then he’s coming toward her, and his jaw is jutted out, and the whites of his eyes are completely gone, it’s just pitch-black dilated pupils, and his whole body is shaking so badly that his legs aren’t making the best use of the muscles that would stand him up so he’s sort of just dragging himself toward her on one uninjured arm, making all those deep guttural gargling sounds. She’s babbling to him, trying to snap him out of it, “stop it, you’re scaring me, what is it” But clearly nothing’s getting through.

Then Daughter, waking up after the loud sound, is calling for her mom from upstairs. Hearing that, Mom remembers there’s something happening outside this immediate frightening moment, then categorizes the hole in the wall and insensibility of her sick husband as “threat to Daughter” in a snap decision.

She finally scrambles backward out of the bathroom and locks him in. He doesn’t try to bust down the door, exactly, but she can hear him brushing confusedly up against it, see the shadow of him under the door flopping around. A finger or three scrabbles in the opening—his nails have spontaneously grown in the last few hours, grown to points.

Mom turns, breathing hard, to find Daughter there and tries to explain. Yes, that’s Daddy—he’s not feeling good, they need to give him some alone time. Daughter wants to bring him her leftover soup, but Mom insists that they leave Daddy alone and go into the living room for a little bit. This is so she can try the phones again—the phones, or the old hunting radio she saw in the cabinet.

While they’re there, Daughter is on the couch but she can’t stop looking at the shadow crossing the light of the bathroom, and listening to the ever-deepening, throaty sounds her dad is making. She is clearly remembering what he said about roars, and goes to look out the kitchen window at the backyard. Maybe she can spot Dragon. Instead, we get a nice jumpscare of yellow predator eyes watching her from the treeline. It’s the first werewolf. She’s frightened, and steps slowly back and back, not knowing exactly what she’s seeing. She goes to her mom for comfort. Her mom is intent on the radio. So we just see Daughter look over at the bathroom light again.

We pan slowly around the mom’s head as she gets a signal from the radio. She’s never worked one of these before, so she’s having to experiment. We can see the shape of the kitchen island moving out of view behind her. It does seem like there’s someone responding to her whenever she tries to talk into it. We can see the blurred corner of the stairway coming into view behind her. Whoever is on the other end, they are so muffled, she can’t tell what they’re saying, but the timing sounds like a response. We can see the landing coming into view behind her. She’s turning the knob and repeating things like, “Can you hear me? My family is trapped, there’s been an accident off of, uh, I think we were about twenty miles off the interstate, uh, can you hear me?” She listens for a response. Someone does finally answer, asking if she can confirm if she’s near a particular address. She gasps in relief and tries stammeringly to remember the one outside the building they’re in.

And behind her we stop on the shape of Daughter, outlined by a huddled, freakily-still silhouette framed in the bathroom light.

She let Dad out.

Mom whips around when Daughter says, “Daddy?” in such an uncertain voice. She drops the radio.

Dad’s hair has lengthened and his stubble has come in thicker but we’re not in full-wolf-mode yet. Which is worse, because his face has this indescribably blank, vacant look to it, like a shark’s. Except it’s frozen in some kind of weak grimace, like he was in pain before his facial muscles stuck that way. He’s staring straight through Daughter. Because his lips are pulled back and his jaw is still jutting, we can see the glint of pointed teeth. He’s scarily still, crouched in front of his daughter, except for how the lower muscles of his legs convulse every once in a while and his fingers are twitching. They’re claw-like. The arm that was clawed is ripped back open, this time in several places, and the nails of the opposite hand are stained red.

The bathroom behind him is in shambles. The old toilet has claw marks warping the porcelain. There’s blood on the fractured mirror, and it actually looks like some of the smears are purposeful—was he trying to write something in gore, and forgot what letters are supposed to look like?

Mom tells Daughter to come to her right now, and doesn’t take her eyes off of the uncanny transformation of her husband. There’s something about the way his face looks that is too scary to be considered “sick and in need of care.” Something that makes her want to drop him in a hole far, far away from their child.

Daughter is frozen. (Kids freak out when their dad shaves their face, imagine this.) Mom begins inching her way up the stairs step by step, but the moment one stair creaks, Dad’s head snaps toward her with such stomach-plummeting suddenness—and his right set of clawed fingers clench around the edge of the top step and immediately splinter it with unbelievable force—that Mom has to stop and settle for just reaching for Daughter. “Come to mommy right now.” She hisses, eyes wide.

Daughter tries to take a step back, forgets she’s on stairs, misses the edge of one, and gasps as she slips. Mom lurches up. At the same time, Dad opens his mouth and it’s impossibly wide and toothy and he makes a sound that is his normal human voice if it just had volume and no control over tone. He snatches at Daughter, but his arms and hands are shredding her puffy winter coat because he’s not accurately using the grabbing muscles in them. Daughter is stupefied in fear at first. Her mom is lightning-fast and uses a blue of pure mom speed and strength, and in one crazy twist she rips Daughter away from Dad. Daughter recovers enough to shriek into her mom’s shoulder. Everybody’s moving now.

Mom never stops the momentum that caught Daughter—she’s half-running, half-falling down the rest of the stairs herself as she bundles them into the kitchen, almost-forming the name of her husband into their daughter’s hair. Dad is a blur of reeling motion—his arms appear to have gotten longer, or maybe it’s just the way he’s holding them, endlessly reaching, fingers curled like each is one long claw-from-the-knuckle. His legs still won’t straighten up and hold him so he’s doing a mix of walking on his knees and all-fours hobbling, but it’s all frighteningly fast, and he’s staring, staring, staring.

He stays basically almost on top of them all the way until Mom is in the kitchen, she gets the landing inbetween them and she whips out an old knife from the sink and holds it out. “Get back!”

Daughter unburies her little head from Mom’s shoulder and twists to look at what’s going on. This movement steadies Mom, who tries to hold the kid at an angle where her own body is between her husband and their child. It also seems to momentarily jog her remembrance that this is Dad, at least enough for her to add his name in faux sternness when she repeats, “Get back.” This is like the part in the trailer where the same thing appears to be happening.

He doesn’t seem to register the knife. It’s her voice that has given Dad pause. Not because he recognizes it, but because he seems to have no idea what that sound is, judging from the slowly tipping head and black eyes. He keeps lurching toward them, but when his body makes contact with the island in the way, he goes wild and starts smashing everything he can reach.

Mom makes sure this isn’t her and Daughter. They attempt to escape, and there’s a a series of chases. First, she’s high-tails it to the truck, carrying Daughter. That goes fine until the truck won’t start (just like in the trailer) and then he smashes the windshield. She screams and tries to drive and flee, hoping he’ll fall off, but his flailing claw-hand disrupts her steering and they’ crash straight into the tool shed. Mom sees this about to happen and, in another burst of mom-superheroics, wrestles herself into the backseat and bundles both her and Daughter out the back door before the collision. Without stopping to check the destruction of shed or car, she flees.

They race into the woods, which was a terrible plan, but what else could they do? They make it to the road when they’re encountered by four hunters in a pickup truck.

One of them is holding a radio, two of them have rifles. They appear to offer temporary asylum—but then of course the werewolf gets there, and it turns into a true nightmare. It’s all screaming confusion. Mom is shielding Daughter’s face from all of it, and you guys get to join Daughter in obliviousness of the gory details because what am I doing, this is so long and it’s not even my movie and if it was I would artfully avoid graphic gore.

At one point Mom is scrambling to escape as the hunters are getting mauled in various stages of confusion and gunfire, and she falls down the embankment their truck tipped off of. There’s pained rolling, and she’s stunned, but Daughter is mostly unhurt, rolling a few feet away. There’s a moment where the werewolf approaches and Daughter tries to tell Dad it’s her, and tell him he doesn’t need to be scary, and Mom catches the tail end of this interaction before coming fully to alertness and racing to save her child. That probably would’ve resulted in death, because in all this fighting and gore it is apparent that the werewolf doesn’t appreciate anyone making sudden movements besides itself. But one of the hunters is still standing and shoots at it, so that gets its attention long enough for mom to grab Daughter and limp, one ankle twisted from the fall, back toward the street.

The last hunter gets werewolf-victimized, and then the chase is back on. Mom is barreling back toward the house, with one of the fallen hunters’ rifles, because it’s the last semi-safe place she’d been able to be, but she’s not going to make it. They’re in the backyard. She can hear that horrible throaty noise, this time full-werewolf scream. She ducks into the half of the tool shed that isn’t collapsed around the now-burning truck they tried to escape in in the first place.

She puts Daughter on the floor near the front door and hefts the Hunter’s rifle, peering through the wooden walls for sight of their pursuer. Daughter suddenly starts doing that high pitched scream-weeping-talking kids do, telling Mom not to hurt Daddy, it’s heartbreaking, but Mom shushes her and looks around for a hiding place—too late.

The werewolf is right outside. She can see it through the slats in the remaining walls of the toolshed, which face the woods. It’s looks like a werewolf—just a tad more beastly than the original, classic-looking Wolf Man. It’s lit in the glow of the fire, so the audience can see the weird, fever-seizure way that it moves, and it’s predator eyes. She looks back at Daughter and tells her that on the count of three she needs to run for the house. Daughter is just crying.

Mom counts to three, but before she can get to the last number, BAM the werewolf cannons through the wall and lands on the tool bench opposite mom. She whirls and fires; it’s hit and falls off the other side. But it stands back up and leers menacingly over the tool bench at Mom. It’s got one huge gouge along its shoulder, like a chunk was taken out of it. It’s not bleeding, it’s not a fresh wound—she remembers what her husband said about the animal “getting a piece taken out by the truck.” Daughter screams.

At the same time, one of those uncontrolled-tone animal noises comes from the other side of the tool shed, by the ruined wall. Daughter scoots to one side to get a better look. The camera pans a little to join her in peering around the bulk of the first ruined wall—it’s Dad. He’s pinned all along his left leg and arm, between the burning truck and the wall.

Mom looks back at the menacing werewolf she’s aiming her gun at. Dad never left the yard; the hunters were all taken out by this thing, which caused the moving van to wreck and did this to her husband in the first place. She screams at Daughter to run, and Daughter does get up and stumble a few feet toward the house, staring over one shoulder at her trapped dad—but the werewolf sees the movement. While its attention is momentarily diverted and before it can pursue, Mom fires again.

It’s hit, but it’s a werewolf, so that doesn’t matter; it leaps at her, knocking them both into the 1-and-a-half-walls still holding up the toolshed roof.

As she’s going down underneath its weight, she kicks both legs out and launches it a few feet away from her.

Then she turns and crawls half-under the tool bench for cover, aiming to get herself back between it and the vague direction of her daughter.

But then the toolshed collapses.

It falls in such a way that mom’s lower half is trapped under rubble when she comes to. The rifle is stuck lengthwise along her right side. She blurrily sees that Daughter is still lying stretched, stunned, in the lawn of the backyard. A few inches away is her stuffed Dragon, but you can tell she’s too shocked to move because she won’t even reach for it or crawl far enough to latch on for comfort. And beyond that, about a yard away, stalking toward her in a predatory arc, is the werewolf.

Mom strains to reach for the rifle and screams at Daughter to run, tries to get the creature’s attention. She can’t. She’s been so focused on the stuck-rifle to her left and the prone-daughter straight ahead and to the distance that, for a moment she doesn’t see that she can reach a perpendicular piece of wood under the one pinning her. She grabs at it, with no real plan in mind except to get something in her hands to change the impending fate of her daughter.

But when she does it moves, just a bit, and she realizes it can be used to leverage the beam off of herself. Instantly she’s trying to make this happen as the werewolf looms nearer and nearer to the easy prey of her daughter. But when she gets the beam to move a little, another sound makes her realized she’s not trapped alone.

Dad, still disfigured and snarling, is now pinned more under the same beam that she is than he was by the truck. (I don’t know exactly how; I think with some quick camera work we could show that as the shed collapsed completely he had enough time to get unstuck from his first position before getting trapped this new way.) As soon as she notices this she freezes in ear. If she lifts the beam, it is at an angle where he will be free first.

She stares at him and time slows down. He looks like a slavering monster. His mouth is yawning open hungrily, his face is a mass of darkening wrinkles. There’s fire from the truck right above him, but in its light there’s no human emotion—he doesn’t look afraid of getting burned alive, nor does he look in pain. His clawed fingers have turned black at the ends; he’s carving deep scars in everything he can reach, including the fender of the truck. But his black eyes, and in fact, whole face, are pointed at the same thing she is straining toward: their daughter.

If she lifts the beam, the monster that used to be her husband will be free before she will. She won’t be fast enough to stop anything he does. But if she doesn’t, nothing about the present scene will change, and she’ll have to watch her daughter mauled to death by the first werewolf.

She grabs the perpendicular piece of wood and hangs all her body weight on it. She heaves and screams and the beam lifts, just enough. Dad scrambles free, churning up the dirt floor of the toolshed. His dilated pupils reflect firelight and Mom. He stares down at her, then leers over her, clawed fingers reaching.

Then we cut abruptly to the action in the backyard, to a shot where Daughter is furthest from the camera with the burning toolshed as her backdrop. Dragon the stuffed animal lays in the grass in the midground, and in the foreground are the pacing limbs of the first werewolf. The clawed feet turn toward the prone, terrified child. There’s a scream, not from Daughter, but from Mom, somewhere back in the toolshed. Then silence. And then Dad comes up behind Daughter, bloody claw-hands reaching. Werewolves are moving toward her from both sides.

And then in a rush of motion Dad keeps going PAST Daughter; he pushes off the ground right alongside Dragon and launches out of frame in that single bound—when he comes back into frame, it’s to barrel into the charging first-werewolf. Bowling it straight off it’s feet, knocking it backward, away from Daughter.

Normally I don’t like werewolf-fights in a werewolf-movie. But he’s protecting the princess with his scariness. So I’m good with it. About a minute later, Mom crawls out of the wreckage of the toolshed, carrying the rifle. She shoots the first werewolf in the head, through the eye, right after Dad shoves it into the fire of the burning truck, and that finally does it in. It’s like, crawling out of the flames, on fire, and that’s when mom shoots it. It’s corpse transforms back into the distant-grandpa figure who probably owned the house they’ve been hiding in all along.

There’s like, a beat, where Mom is standing over Daughter with the rifle at the ready. Dad is bristling over the corpse. And then, horribly, Dad immediately starts eating the corpse. (You don’t see it, you see his back, a-la Demogorgon or National Geographic.) You just hear some snarling noises.

Mom hides the Daughter’s eyes by bending, picking up Dragon, and pressing the stuffed animal insistently into the kid’s face. After turning her around and telling her to stay there, Mom approaches Dad. She touches his shoulder while he devours. He doesn’t react. She reaches to do it again and THEN he whips around, bristling, nasty. She freezes, but you can tell (because we got a good actress) that she is forcing herself not to flinch. We flinched, though. We, the audience, we flinched.

She freezes, and he stands—tries to stand, and this time his shaky-bent legs actually straighten out. He’s almost his normal height. She looks at the blood dripping off his face and the freakshow-black eyes and says his name, it’s all very werewolf-cliche, and she tells him she loves him.

And maybe this time we go back into his perspective, like we haven’t since he first started transforming. The words he hears from her are very garbled, he still can’t understand her, and on the edges of the scene he’s seeing, a fever-blur of their old home, or his ex-office, or the road before they wrecked, keeps fading in and out.

The Mom takes his wounded arm, the one that first got the werewolf-scratch. With monster-force he jerks his arm back, as usual—but Mom does not let him slip out of her grip, so as a result, Dad yanks her forward right into him. She just has to go with it because that’s what happens when you choose not to lose tug of war with a werewolf, and embraces him. So, that should be curtains. But instead, of course, he just freezes and doesn’t seem to know what to do. Back to his perspective. He still can’t understand what she’s saying, but the emotion of the moment doesn’t change to confusion; she’s hugging him, you don’t need words with a hug.

From there, Mom slowly pulls away—which results in a snarl—but she doesn’t let go of that rigid arm. She leads him into the forest. They go to the site of the moving truck wreck (she takes him from a different direction, so they go around the hunter-massacre scene I guess)

She leads him into the moving van. All their stuff is laying in wreckage inside, toppled over on top of itself. But she sits down on the back of an overturned couch and shows him a shattered photo, plus the one on her cracked phone case, and just keeps telling him that she loves him.

When the cops show up, carrying Daughter safely from where they found her and closing in on them with guns, and Dad gets all bristly and animalistic-again, Mom doesn’t let go of his arm. She says she’s staying with him, says it to the cops, and says it to him. And he turns back to normal. It’s slow—enough. He’s been turning back to normal incrementally since she let him out of the toolshed. Standing up straighter, not eating her when she touched him, his eyes have been clearing up, etc.

Anyway, that’s how we end it. The police see the photo Mom is holding of their family, so they don’t immediately want to shoot the parents of the kid they rescued (they’re still the police and people are still dead on this scene) especially when one just went through mysterious seizures right in front of them. But when the camera goes dark, the family is still standing together.

I got a little carried away. so. so what, I had time

[theprissythumbelina]

Snippet Time!

I feel like I haven't posted anything in forever, and since I mentioned him on one of my polls I thought I might post this for reads and comments.

As a bit of context, Kel comes into Mortal Sparks as a detective and former companion of Nicolette's mother. He helps Nicolette and Alyss move through the big city and eventually flee the continent on a ship. Kel has been haunted through his life by the kidnapping and murder of most of his family, which he believes was tied to the exotic slave trade. Despite his efforts, the three youngest members of his family have been missing for over 20 years.

This snippet is from his childhood in the rural mountains of Clard Bute.

@thetruearchmagos @teacupsandstarlight if you're up for a bit of not-light reading?

"Happy birthday!"

Owen groaned as he was shaken so hard his head flopped off the pillow. 

"Happy birthday!" a chipper voice repeated, a soft thump landing next to his head. Owen curled tighter in his quilt. Small hands patted his cheek repeatedly.

"You think we should get the water, Pat?" Conner asked, somewhere above. 

"Gonna be late if we don't," Patty grumbled. 

Owen fumbled to his left, snagging Riley and pulling her in with a squeal. "Gonna get the baby wet," he mumbled, tickling her until she flopped off the bed, still giggling. He pulled himself up and rubbed his eyes. 

"I'll pay that price," Conner loomed over him, wielding a cup threateningly. Owen could see it was empty from the bed. He stuck his tongue out. 

"That's not how a man acts," Patty scolded from the door. She tried to pick Riley up from the floor and was promptly tickled in return. "Get up, Owen. Kel made breakfast."

"Get up, Owen," Conner mimicked. 

"Get up, Owen!" Riley added helpfully. "Up, Owen!"

"I'm going to eat," Patty sniffed. She left, and Owen pushed himself up. He pulled a shirt over his longjohns, stumbling as Riley tangled herself in his legs. 

"Can you get rid of her?" he pleaded to Conner. 

His older brother swept Riley up in a bear hug. 

"Com'on, blubberbug, breakfast's waiting." He walked her awkwardly out to the kitchen as she tried to wiggle over his shoulder. Owen pulled on his boots and shuffled after them. 

"Morning, birthday boy!" Kel crowed from the stove. Patty was already grumpily spooning oatmeal into her bowl. Owen's eyes caught on a small pile of chokecherries at Kel's elbow. Kel caught his look and grinned. 

"Ready to eat?" He held out a bowl and sprinkled the chokecherries dramatically on top. "Only the best for our new man of the house."

Owen wrinkled his nose. "I'm twelve," he complained. "'Sides, that's Noah."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Kel teased. "I get you wains out of bed, I feed you, I clean your nasty clothes -" he paused to pull Riley's hair out of her oatmeal, twisting it into a hair-tie. "And it ain't no picnic." 

"Love you, Kel," Patty announced obediently, Owen and Conner a beat behind. Kel waved it away affectionately.

"Get on to school, now. You'll be late." Owen crammed more chokecherries in his mouth in between gulping down oatmeal. He grabbed his books, packed and ready by the door, and trooped out with Conner, Patty, and Riley. 

"Not coming, Kel?" Patty turned before the door shut. Kel shook his head.

"Gotta call Mom, you ken? She probably lost track of the days. She'll want to be here tonight." 

He said it with such easy confidence, Owen almost believed him. Conner muttered something, but shook his head when Owen leaned closer. He tugged at Patty's arm, and she let the door slam shut. 

"He's gonna be behind next time he does come," she complained as they stomped down the frosted dirt road. Owen gazed up at the lightening sky, hoping they'd have an early snow for his birthday. 

"He's not going back," Conner snapped. "He's gonna go with Noah next year, and I'll be looking after you lot. And once you get to 15, you'll be looking after Owen and Rils and I'll be working too."

Patty was silent for a moment. She stepped over the pinecone Owen kicked her way, still frowning. 

"But I like school. I want to be a nurse, you have to go to school past 15 for that."

"Yeah, and I wanted to be a printer. But someone has got to take care of the littles."

"Kel takes care of us just fine," she protested. "Why can´t he stay home? He's been doing it since Mom left."

"Daithaine ort, Pat, 'cause he's gotta work. You think Noah makes enough for 5 of us? You think we can live off berries and rabbits forever? What about our clothes, Pat? You'll be fine, you got Mom's and 'Kayla's dresses, but what about Owen?"

Owen hunched his shoulders at his name. Patty had a stubborn look on her face, like she was glaring at John Balacky all over again. Conner went on. 

"His boot were Dad's, then they were Noah's, then they were Kel's, then they were mine. You think they're gonna last much longer?"

Owen could hear Noah's words as Conner ranted. A three-room cabin was not enough space to avoid eavesdropping even on a quiet conversation. He'd seen the slump of Kel's shoulders through the door slit, heard a mumbled agreement as Noah ran his hand over his face. He had looked older than nineteen, in the lamplight. Owen had heard a different variation a few days later, as Conner tried to make his own stand. Kel had put a hand on his shoulder, but Conner shook it off and stomped into the bedroom he shared with Owen. 

Noah had gone to bed a few moments later, pausing at the door as Conner cried quietly with his face toward the wall. His footsteps moved on after a few seconds, leaving only Kel to quietly prepare the kitchen for the morning. 

 Owen had barely seen his oldest brother for the last two years, and never in daylight. He rose before the rest, second only to Kel, who got up first to warm the stove. He got back home late too, smelling like sap and cold and sweat. Kel alone waited up for him most nights, though the sound of movement sometimes stirred the younger kids to say goodnight. 

Owen blinked as Patty stomped her foot, now in a full-fledged argument with Conner. He buried his fingers deeper in his pockets, wondering if it was worth the effort to break them up. He yawned and thought better of it. They were still arguing as he pushed open the wire gate to the schoolhouse. 

Kel was waiting for them as soon as the school bell rang. He leaned on the wire fence, grinning cheekily at the older girls standing in the schoolyard. Mary Balacky in particular took notice, her face turned toward him even as she chatted with her friends. Her red bow bounced slightly on the top of her head as she nodded happily, her eyes darting to Kel. Owen wrinkled his nose as Patty snorted. John Balacky stuck his tongue out at Patty as she and Owen pushed past, half-hidden behind his sister's skirt. 

"Where'd Conner get off too?" Kel asked cheerfully, glancing at Patty and Owen before eyeing the girls again. He had a pack slung over one shoulder that was suspiciously lumpy. 

"Ms. K wanted to talk with him," Patty said snottily. 

"She said he wasn't in trouble," Owen piped up. 

"Probably she wants to give him another award for good behavior," Kel reached over and tugged at Patty's curls. "Not like little Miss Right Hook here."

"Jonny started it," Patty insisted, swatting at Kel's arm. 

"And you ended it just like I showed you, huh? Right in the kisser. Pow!" 

Patty grinned. 

"What's that?" Owen pointed to the bag. 

"Nothing for right now. Gotta wait for the celebration, alright?"

Conner stomped out of the school, glowering at the younger kids in his way. They scattered like sparrows as he reached the gate. 

"There he is," Kel greeted him. "You get another gold star?" 

Conner resettled his bag on his shoulder. "She wanted to know if this was my last year in school." He shrugged. "I told her I didn't know."

Kel grimaced, making an aborted attempt to pat Conner's shoulder. "Well," he cleared his throat, "Let's get going, wains."

A chorus of "Bye, Kel!" followed them away from the school. Kel twisted to give one last wave before settling to walk up the mountain, his arm draped over Owen's shoulder. Halfway to the house, Owen gathered the courage to speak.

"Kel?" He hesitated. 

Kel tightened his arm supportively. 

"What's the craic?" 

Owen felt his newfound courage fade. "What if…" he tried, but lapsed into silence. Kel gave him small smile. 

"What if it doesn't work?" he finished for Owen. Owen nodded, cheeks heating. 

"Well," Kel dragged the word out, "If it doesn't, we gotta feed you to the fairies, you know." 

Owen blinked at him. "The fairies?"

"Yeah, you´ve seen the ring down by the kill. You know, we used to have another brother, but it didn't work for him, so he had to go into the ring."

Owen stared up at him. Kel snorted. 

"Geez, If I told you I wrote gullible on the roof you'd look up, wouldn't you?"

"Uh," Owen muttered. 

"It's gonna work, buddy. And if it doesn't, you'll still be our annoying littlest brother. 'Sides, you don't remember your teething years. You've got some strong chompers."

Kel poked at his mouth playfully. "Open up now, let's see those sharp canines. I've still got a scar from when I got too close to your dinner."

Owen pushed him away. Kel chuckled and slung his arm back over Owen's shoulder. "You're gonna be fine, I promise. Scout's honor."

Owen nodded, but he burrowed a light tighter under Kel's arm anyway. 

At the house, he and Patty did their homework while Conner helped Riley with hers, and Kel chopped firewood behind the house until dinnertime. 

Owen looked up when the door opened, expecting to see Kel. Instead, Noah pushed his way in, dropping his knapsack in the line of bags by the door. Owen jumped out of his seat and rushed into Noah's arms. 

Noah chuckled, wrapping Owen in a bear hug. "Easy there, bud," he rumbled. Patty and Riley also joined the clump, squishing Owen between his siblings. 

"I didn't know if you were gonna be here," Owen beamed up at Noah. 

"Course I was. I wouldn't miss your birthday."

"Missed mine," Conner muttered from the table. Noah looked up, a dark expression clouding his face, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Kel pushing past. 

"None of that," Kel told Conner pointedly, "This is a birthday and we're gonna be happy with each other, okay?"

Conner shrugged, but followed him back out for another armful of firewood. 

With the stew ready and the shadows stretching over their cottage, Owen sat in the middle of his family as they prayed and sang and ate. As he tipped the last of the stew into his mouth, Kel stood up and fetched his bag, setting it down in front of Owen and taking his bowl. Owen pulled back the top of the bag and lifted out a pair of dark leather boots, solid and sturdy, with only a few scratches on the toe. He breathed in the smell of clean leather, with no scent of his brothers. These boots were his and his alone. He grinned up at Noah, who was watching him with a tired smile. 

"You'll need to pad them out with your socks still," he told Owen, "but we figured your old ones were about ready to kick the can. These should last you at least ten years, if you care for them right."

"I will," Owen promised. He stood and hugged Noah, then Kel. 

"You want another bowl?" Kel asked. "There's a little left." 

Owen shook his head. "Its almost time, right? We could visit Kayla and Dad, before…"

Noah got to his feet. "Good idea. Let's go visit Kayla. The bonfire is close to her anyway."

The kitchen was suddenly a bustle of activity as everyone fetched coats and boots. Kel fussed over Riley, pushing his own gloves over her mittens and wrapping a second scarf over her head. He delayed so long that even Noah rolled his eyes and pushed them all outside. 

All six followed a small path through the trees, into a small clearing. Owen blinked in the darkness of the trees, but he followed his brother's sure footsteps into the lighter area of the clearing. Puffs of air hung around their heads as the family gathered next to two headstones. Owen hung away from the second headstone. It had always made him feel weird, that there was no grave under it. It was like talking to empty air. But, the loggers never found any remains to give them. Their mother had insisted on the headstone. 

Kel cleared his throat. "Hey, Kayla. Hey, Dad. It's Owen's birthday, his twelfth birthday. We, uh, we wanted to come and all be together -  well almost all, but," He took a deep breath. "We wanted to come and remember that, we're still a family. And we always will be. You both should have been here tonight, and -"

He stumbled to a stop. Noah took over. "You aren't forgotten. You never will be. Each of us carries you in our hearts. Tonight, in this life or the next, we are together, as family."

Patty nudged Owen. "Say something," she hissed. 

"Uh, Dad, Kayla, I miss you. We miss you. But I promise, I'm gonna make you proud, and I'm gonna, uh, take my place in the family. We're looking out for each other."

They stood in silence for a long moment. Kel shifted first, gazing at the sky. 

"Moon's almost up." he said. "Let's get to the fire."

On the other end of the clearing, Kel had piled logs and branches almost up to Owen's chest. The logs had already been doused with gasoline, and a thick swath of freshly tiled dirt created a barrier between the bonfire and any dry grass or pine needles. Noah struck a match and tossed it at the base of the logs. It caught flame with a bright flare that settled into a steady, warm blaze. 

Owen fiddled under his coat, clutching his amulet. He hadn't taken it off in nearly six years. His heart was already pounding away next to the amulet, heating the red stone. Owen heard a thump as Noah shed his heavy overcoat. To his right, Kel unwrapped his own scarf and added it on top of Riley's numerous layers, followed by his own coat. Conner had already stripped to his longjohns, and Patty was pulling off her boots. 

"It's best if you get the clothes off before it starts," Noah advised him gently, pulling off his shirt. "You don't want to rip anything." 

Owen nodded nervously. He had always been like Riley until now, waiting in cast off layers for the moon to finally cast light over the clearing. He tugged at the laces of his boots, his ears attuned to the soft sounds of clothes falling to the ground around him. Owen was down to his skivvies, shivering, when a low groan made him look up. 

The moon had risen. It loomed behind the mountains, thin wisps of clouds curling around and under its glow. Full, and huge, it stretched up, up, and at last pulled free of the horizon. Kel's head dropped back to his shoulders as he groaned again. Noah fell into a crouch. Conner stretched his arms forward. Patty threw her head back and let out a high, mournful cry, that slipped into a wild howl as she shuddered and folded, her forelimbs lengthening, her hair spreading to cover her entire body in dark brown fur. She threw back her muzzle and howled again. This time, Kel joined in, his voice dark and melodic. Noah and Conner joined, Conner an octave above both his brothers. 

Owen's throat ached to join in, like he had dreamed each full moon. But he clung to the amulet, his hand like a vise. If he took it off, he'd have no excuse. He hesitated. The voices dwindled off. A cold nudge to his elbow brought him back to reality, and he looked up at Kel's amber eyes. He was a huge werewolf, larger than a pony, but even a smaller werewolf like Patty could never be confused for a true wolf. It was the eyes, and the legs, with their strangely long paws and bent limbs. Kel nudged him again, his eyes gentle. 

Swallowing, Owen pulled the amulet over his head, and tossed it into the fire. For the first time, he felt the moon steal over his skin. It itched like crazy, like his skin was crawling, moving. He scratched at thick, dark fur that coated his arms, his legs, his chest. He cried out as his fingers cracked and twitched, becoming longer, thicker, built for running and clawing. He ran his tongue around a lengthening mouth, sharpening teeth, and finally, finally, settled in a crouch and tipped his head back to the moon, letting loose a howl. 

His siblings joined in joyously, howling and yipping, their voices bouncing off the mountains and echoing back like a pack of a hundred. Owen pulled in air through his nose for the first time, marking the scent of each of his pack, his family. The fire in front of him snagged in his nostrils, sharp and acrid, but below that was the scent of the trees, clean, and the earth, and a deer, stinking of fear as it bounded away. Owen ached to chase it. 

As if he had read Owen's mind, Noah rose to all four feet, summoning his pack with a low grumble. Owen bounded up, his tail betraying his excitement. Patty and Conner panted and yipped, circling Noah impatiently. Noah held them back until Kel straightened from his crouch, Riley steady on his shoulders. 

With a huff, Noah bounded forward, Patty and Conner on his heels, Owen and Kel bringing up the rear. They raced down the mountain, the scent of the deer's panic like a flare. Owen stretched his new limbs, feeling the blood pound freely through his veins. He matched pace with Conner, their shoulders' brushing in perfect unison. Patty yipped as she broke off to the right. Conner steered Owen to the left, surrounding the deer. They were so close now, he could hear the deer's heart pound. In the distance, another voice lifted to the moon. Wilder, older, and burdened by sorrow, but still celebrating a new member of the pack. 

[braveclementine]

What Do you Mean the Wedding is Still Going On?

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Davina P.O.V.

I sat in the living room the next day with Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett, watching the news. They're were reporting about Seattle at the moment.

A blond news reporter stood on the TV, police car lights on behind her in a dark intersection on a block off street. "Seattle is in a state of terror. Police are baffled by the escalating murders and disappearances. Theories range from a vicious new gang to a wildly active serial killer. Reporting live-"

Carlisle turned the TV off as Edward and Bella came into the room, wrapping an arm around my shoulder where I sat between him and Jasper. "It's getting worse. We're going to have to do something."

Emmett was slowly punching his fist into his hand where he sat on the back of the couch instead of actually sitting on it properly.

"Emmett, sit on the furniture right." I muttered under my breath. Emmett didn't listen to me, shooting me a cocky grin instead.

I hadn't told them about Uncle Josh or Dad or whatever I was supposed to call him. I mean, I told them he had died, I just didn't say Victoria was the one who killed him.

Not that Marcel knew who Victoria was. He had just said there was red hair at the scene that they couldn't match to anyone so I was almost certain it was Victoria. I couldn't really think of anyone else.

The only thing I couldn't figure out was why. Surely she couldn't know what Uncle Josh and Marcel had provided me with, could she?

"It takes more than one of our kind to cause the damage they're reporting." Jasper said, still staring at the blank TV as he said this. "Quite a few more. And they're undisciplined, conspicuous."

"It's newborns." Edward said.

Carlisle looked up and Bella looked between everyone and then asked, "What, like new vampires?"

"In the first few months after the change." Edward explained.

"That's when we're at our most uncontrollable. Vicious. Insane with thirst." Jasper said. Carlisle tightened his arm around me.

"Something to look forward to." Emmett said. I scoffed.

"No one's trained these newborns, but this isn't random." Jasper said.

"Someone's creating an army." Carlisle said softly.

"Well now we're definitely going to Seattle." Emmett said, getting up off the couch excitedly.

"Like what?" I asked angrily. "Today? Absolutely not."

"An army of vampires?" Bella asked skeptically.

"And they've been created to fight someone." Jasper explained.

"Oh wow, let me guess. Hmm, us." I muttered sarcastically under my breath. "Lucky us."

Edward glared at me while Emmett grinned.

"Mom's right. We're the only clan even close to Seattle." Edward said.

"Regardless of why they were made," Carlisle interjected, "if we don't put a stop to them, the Volturi will. I'm surprised they let it go on this long."

"Maybe they're behind it." Edward and I said at the same time.

Edward continued, "In Italy, I read Aro's mind. He wants me, Alice, and Davina to join him but he knows we'll never choose him as long as our family's still alive."

"An army could solve that for him." Jasper said while Carlisle's arm grew even tighter around me still.

I was going to have to enact my plan. And I was going to have to enact it soon.

-----------------------------

I sat on the kitchen counter, snickering as Carlisle wrapped up Bella's hand. "It's just a sprain. It should heal fairly quickly."

I was observing Carlisle. He was wearing a lovely navy blue sweater with a white collar shirt underneath.

Jasper and Emmett walked in and I noticed the contrasting difference between them in their fancy clothes, and Edward in a sweatshirt. Emmett was wearing a gray vest over a gray shirt, with black dress pants. Jasper was wearing the same thing as Carlisle, just in different colours.

"Trying to walk and chew gum at the same time again Bella?" Emmett asked, coming to sit next to me on the counter, pulling me into a side hug.

"I punched a werewolf in the face." Bella said with a slight scoff.

I snickered again.

"Badass. You're gonna be one tough little newborn." Emmett said.

"Tough enough to take you on." Bella jested. I laughed, pushing on Emmett's shoulder but the jokes weren't good for Rosalie who tossed the newspaper aside, walking out the door.

"Don't worry about it." Was all Emmett said.

There was some awkward silence before Edward asked, "Got any new leads?"

"No sign of the intruder. But Victoria continues to make appearances." Jasper said.

I wrapped my arms around Carlisle's neck as he leaned his back against the counter.

Bella left the house to leave the five of us to discussion.

"What about the wolves Mom?" Edward asked.

"If they've found anything they haven't confided it in me. But the last thing Sam said was they didn't have anything." I murmured.

"Mom!" Alice said, running in.

"Yeah?" I asked, unconcerned, kissing the top of Carlisle's head.

"Come on. You need to try on your wedding dress!" Alice said, darting up to me to grab my arm.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused, "What now?"

"You're wedding is literally in two days!" Alice scoffed.

"Wait, that's still happening?" I asked, completely taken away.

Alice glared at me, "Why wouldn't it?"

"I- I don't- Seattle- new born vampires- Victoria- Pff- I-"

Alice literally scooped me off the kitchen counter and started pulling me after her.

"Jasper!" I called behind me.

"Sorry Mama." Jasper called back with laughter in his voice.

Upon entering Alice's room, I found Esme waiting for me as well, along with the dress.

"Oh." I whispered, seeing the dress. "Oh, Alice."

"I know." Alice beamed. "It's a little later than the 1640's, closer to the 1700's, but it's close to the style that was done in Carlisle's time. Do you like it?"

"I love it." I whispered, looking at the beautiful wedding dress in front of me.

It was white with long sleeves and a jeweled bodice that was decorated to look like a corset. There were ruffles along the shoulders and the v shape. It was a low V-shape and wouldn't reveal much, but it was also set lower along the shoulders. It came with a pearl necklace that was so small, it was almost like a choker, but I think that was what Alice was going for. There were silver flowers and also white roses on the outside of the dress with was a very fine, see through skirt. The other layers were white silk.

(Or I found a new dress)

"There will be a train and a veil as well." Alice said giddily.

"Will he like it?" I breathed out.

"He'll love it." Esme assured me.

"Come on! Get dressed! Get dressed!" Alice was pretty much squealing with delight. I quickly undressed, and with Alice and Esme's help, dressed in the wedding dress.

"It fits you perfectly." Esme said.

"I look kind've pale." I muttered.

"Don't worry." Alice said. "Makeup will fix that and if you spend all of tomorrow down at La Push, you'll get a little bit of a tan."

I took her word for it. Maybe I'd get Leah to come sunbathing with me or Seth to go surfing.

"So, um, tell me about the wedding arrangements so I'm not taken by surprise." I said quietly.

"Alright, so," Alice said in delight. "All your bridesmaids will be wearing sky blue."

"I have bridesmaids? As in. . . plural?" I questioned.

"Yep! Me, Rosalie, Emily, and Leah." Alice said happily.

I raised my eyebrows. "Leah said yes to being my bridesmaid? Alongside vampires?"

"Yep." Alice said. "Also, Sam is going to be walking you down the aisle."

I smiled at that. Good old Sam.

"But you will have to pick your maid of honor." Alice said with a shrug.

"How am I supposed to choose?" I asked, confused.

"Well, it can't be a bridesmaid." Alice pointed out. "So that should narrow your options down."

"Esme?" I questioned, "Would you like to be my maid of honor?"

Esme smiled, venom swelling up in her eyes with happiness. "I would love that."

I smiled as Alice helped me out of the wedding dress. "What about the cake?"

Alice snorted, "Vanilla with vanilla icing. Don't worry, I would never forget that."

"It's not going to be over the top, is it?" I questioned carefully.

"Oh no! There's only five layers." Alice replied.

"FIVE!" I asked.

"Well, the wolves love to eat." Alice pointed out.

I paused, "Actually, that's a good point."

"Don't worry, there'll be a lot of food." Alice said. "And Emmett is making sure that there'll be blood too. Since it's us and part of the Denali clan, animal blood will be mixed in with our wine. Meaning that it's mostly blood."

I nodded, "Well at least everyone's going to be happy."

I sighed. I was feeling more and more nervous with every passing moment.

"Don't be nervous." Alice said. "It'll be great. You two absolutely love each other."

"I know." I said, taking in a shuddering breath. "Does Marcel have a part to play in all of this? Or is he not coming anymore?"

"He is. He would've walked you down the aisle but I told him about Sam and about your Uncle Joshua/ Dad relationship thing." Alice said. "I hope you don't mind. Anyways, he thinks it's fair that Sam walks you instead. All the other guests are Quiluete, Courtney and her family from the hospital, Charlie of course, and then I invited Angela and Eric because I know you like them."

I smiled, "You did good Alice."

I checked the clock, "I ought to go."

"Alright, you'll be coming back here, right?" Alice asked.

"Maybe." I said slowly, not wanting to make promises. "We'll see. I'll call though, if I'm not so Carlisle doesn't worry."

"Alright." Both Alice and Esme hugged and kissed my cheek.

Once I was in my SUV though, all the other emotions left me. I drove to Seattle.

---------------

I hunkered down in the back of my car, connecting my laptop to the WIFI of one of the nearby buildings.

I was parked in an alleyway, the car lights off and locked. It wouldn't stop much, but it was enough. I had my gun, stake, and lighter beside me.

I wasn't stupid. I wasn't going to attempt killing anything. But I had to be in Seattle for this plan to work.

I carefully attached the drone to my laptop, setting up a recording process. I had crossed off sections of Seattle with a red marker. I knew exactly where I needed the drone to go.

Marcel and Uncle Josh- for lack of anything better to call him- had given me the army codes to Seattle. These were codes to the high tech security cameras that the army had planted. They had these in every city, in every nook and cranny because. . . well the Government liked to keep tabs on people.

But I wasn't look for people.

I put on a pair of headphones, getting ready with the controller if need be. I scrolled through the laptop, working methodically until I saw a blur on the camera. I paused, clicking the screen into rotation and watched.

In the frame, there was a blue car that upside down, several people were on the screen. There was on, standing with the car door above his hand and I watched- and recorded- as he slammed it into the ground.

Two of the people dropped another, who fell lifeless to the floor. I quickly turned up the audio as the man started to speak, "Something's coming."

His voice was smooth. I quickly upgraded the camera quality with an amplifier. I recognized his face, he was on all the missing posters in Seattle. Charlie was working on his case. Riley something.

"Something bigger than any of us alone. And if you can't control yourselves, we're all going to die." He finished the lovely sentence. He shook his head, looking at the damage they had caused and said, "What's done is done, just clean up after yourselves." He waved a hand at the fire that was set behind the car and the human bodies in the alleyway. I shuddered.

He moved out of the frame and I quickly clicked to the next frame, to see if I could track him. Instead, I was met with another site.

It was a side view of the bridge, revealing that there were four, cloak wearing vampires standing there. I recognized all of them and froze, afraid all of a sudden they would realize I was watching them. Felix and Demetri were on the outsides with Alec and Jane on the inside. They were staring down at the mess the vampires were making.

I quickly clicked over to the camera closer to them, double checking to make sure that the laptop was still recording. I wanted to be able to hear them.

"They've already drawn too much attention." Demetri spoke first. I loved Demetri. Not like Carlisle of course, nothing like Carlisle. But if I could have a favorite in the Volturi clan- Demetri was it. I almost considered him an ally.

"So has our inaction." Felix said and he was right. It was making the Cullens suspicious. "Others may begin to question the Volturi's effectiveness."

"Let them." Jane said and my eyes widened. I turned up the volume to make sure I was hearing this properly.

Felix turned his back, walking away from them and said, "Maybe we should consult with Aro."

Jane turned to face him and Felix suddenly fell to his knees, his back arched in pain.

"Aro's decisions are being watched." Jane said.

SO THEY KNEW!

She let go of Felix and he fell flat on his face.

"We must decide." Jane said.

My heart was beating in my chest, my body shaking.

Alec stepped forward, placing a hand on Jane's shoulder, "Then decided sister. It's time."

"Yes it is." Jane said. Her voice was to girly and light for a monster. Her and Alec turned back to overlook the destruction while Felix got to his feet. "Either we let them do what they were created for, or we end them."

She made it sound like she was deciding what she should have for breakfast tomorrow morning.

"Decisions, decisions."

I was literally holding my breath. If she decided not to end them, then we would have to end them. And it meant that the Volturi- at least Jane and Alec- were willing to let the Cullens be destroyed.

And then, they were gone. I gasped and then quickly changed frame rates and I found them, leaving the city. I shuddered. They were going to let the vampires live. This- this was not good at all.

-----------------------

I was dressed, once again, in my wedding dress. Except this time, Rosalie was in the room too. Rosalie was working on making the curls that Carlisle favored over every other hair style. Esme was helping wherever she could while Alice did my makeup.

My heart was beating out of my chest. They all thought it was nerves for the wedding. But I was terrified about the Volturi's decision. I remembered Edwards' words very clearly. Aro wanted me, Edward, and Alice by his side. If Rose, Em, Esme, Jas, and Carlisle were dead, we might go. Well. . . they would. I would not. I knew I could not live without Carlisle.

If Carlisle were to die before I was a vampire, I would move to La Push. Becoming active in the werewolves. I had thought once I might go to Volterra, become one of them, maybe even be with Demetri should fate allow it. But this. . . this wasn't Carlisle deciding he didn't want to be with me. No, this was Jane deciding my family should be ended.

I would never be allies with someone like that. For me to become one of the Volturi, Jane would have to die.

Alec too.

And Aro would never kill them.

"Davina, breathe." Alice said and I popped my eyes open, remembering where I was. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Right. No. Of course." I muttered.

Alice pursed her lips and said to Esme, "Leah and Emily are here."

Esme nodded and she was gone. I had told Leah and Emily that Esme would help them. Emily was quite fine with this, though Leah was far more reluctant. But I told Leah she would be Less annoyed with Esme working on her than if Alice or Rose worked with her and she reluctantly agreed.

The Denali clan was not here yet- and they would also show up straight to the church. Marcel on the other hand, was already here, chatting with Carlisle and the others downstairs. He hadn't met Rose or Esme yet- probably wouldn't until we got to the church.

Jacob, Paul, and Jared had laughed their asses off about me marrying a vampire in a church. Snickering about holy water and crosses. I had glared at them silently until they had become very quiet.

Once Alice started working on my eye makeup, I closed my eyes, slipping back to thinking about my short time in Seattle and working the cameras. I had downloaded the file several times, backing it up on different devices, sending it to several different emails, and downloading it onto six different flash drives. I had given one to Sam, telling him to keep it safe. I had also given one to Billy, telling him to keep it safe. Carlisle had one and I had hidden the other three. I had also told Sam, Billy, and Carlisle not to look at them unless I said so, saying they were useless for now.

I kept my thoughts controlled around Edward so that even he didn't know what I knew.

I wasn't entirely sure why I was keeping this a secret. Maybe because Carlisle believed in the Volturi so much and their laws. I didn't want to crush his faith.

Everything came back to Carlisle.

I wanted to know who Riley was working for. If it wasn't the Volturi. . . was it Victoria?

"Okay." Rose whispered, "The men left for the church. And Sam is here."

I stood up, slipping on the white, cream coloured heels that Rose had let me borrow. The dress was new. Esme had gifted me an old pair of pearl earrings that she never wore and thought I would enjoy. Not to mention, it would match my pearl choker and they were also something old.

I just needed something blue.

Sam was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, along with Leah and Emily, both wearing dresses of sky blue. Alice had made sure that each girl got a dress that made her look absolutely stunning and though I was the girl of the day, Sam was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of Emily.

[Leah: Bottom. #5. Emily: Top #3. Rosalie Top #5. Alice bottom #2]

"You look beautiful." Sam said, kissing my cheek. He looked absolutely wonderful in his black suit. He was wearing a light blue tie to match the dresses and I was going to guess Alice had forced him into wearing it.

I smiled, kissing his cheek back. "Thank you Sammy."

"Davina." Marcel's voice came. He was in his military uniform and I smiled.

"Hey." I whispered. Alice was fixing the veil slightly.

"This is for you. Something blue. You can keep it." Marcel chuckled, holding out a pin.

"Your Combat Infantry badge." I whispered, taking the badge and handing it to Alice. She fixed it in with my hair, near the crown with the veil. "Thank you."

"It's not mine." Marcel said softly. "It was your fathers."

I felt the lump in my throat grow and Alice growled, "If you make her cry I will rip your head off."

Marcel chuckled. He had that infectious laugh so I laughed too. Alice sighed, "Time to get to the church before you start crying."

I rolled my eyes at Sam.

Once we were at the church, I found myself even more nervous than before. Marcel went off to sit in the crowd. Esme was already at the alter- she had left before us. Rosalie, Alice, Leah, and Emily prepared to walk down the aisle and I felt like throwing up.

"Davina, everything is going to be fine." Sam said.

"No, I know." I muttered, lacing my arm through his as the band started to play and my bridesmaids left. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being here. I know. . . I know this isn't the particular marriage you would've wanted me to do. So it means a lot, that you're here, supporting me." I whispered.

"He makes you happy. And I know he'll both protect you and he won't hurt you. And I love you enough to want you to be happy, even if he is a vampire."

I chuckled and then there was the cue for us to start walking. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let me fall."

"I won't."

Sam and I walked down the aisle, through the parting curtain, and my breath caught in my throat upon seeing Carlisle.

He was wearing a black satin suit, a crisp white shirt underneath, and a white tie to match the colour of my dress.

His eyes lit up, a small knowing smile on his face as he looked at me. I was suddenly thankful for the veil that gave my face some coverage, because I was sure that my cheeks were bright red.

Sam kept his grip firm, his skin hot under his suit, but not uncomfortable. I knew it would be a short time before I was ice cold and we wouldn't be able to touch each other. So I relished in it. We reached the end of the line and Sam took my hand, placing it in Carlisle's out stretched hand.

"Take care of her Carlisle." Sam said in a husky voice.

"Forever." Carlisle murmured.

Sam knew he would keep that promise.

Sam let go of my hand, going to sit with the Quileutes on the opposite side of the room as the vampires.

The priest- completely and totally human by the way knowing nothing of the two secrets- was the one to conduct the ceremony.

Honestly, I didn't even hear anything he even said. All I knew was that it felt like I was standing there for years until Carlisle said, "I do."

Oh shit. Did I miss my part?

"Davina Michaelson, will you have this man to be your husband, to live together in holy marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?" The priest asked.

There were so many things wrong with this vow and I was surprised that Alice hadn't asked him to change it. But I supposed as I had grown up Methodist, it was the one thing for me. Everything else- the church, the ring, the dress, the veil, the train, everything was Catholic for Carlisle. This one vow was Methodist for me.

"I do." I whispered.

"Then by the power vested in me by the holy spirit, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

My heart was beating out of my chest as Carlisle raised his hands, sweeping the veil back with ease before capturing my lips with his own. My eyes fluttered shut as I basked in the kiss. And then, we slowly pulled apart as the crowd started to clap. I could hear wolf whistling from the wolves and Carlisle and I both laughed lightly together.

Slowly, everything melted into reception. There were endless dances of course. Carlisle and I opened up the dance naturally. He was a flawless dancer and his strength gave him the ability to make sure I could dance just as smoothly, even if I wasn't moving my own feet.

Sam naturally danced with me next and I took alternative turns with my vampire children and my wolf children with Carlisle in between every single one of them.

Jared had brought Kim, never letting her go until he danced with me. Embry took her for a spin, one of the only people Jared probably would trust with Kim. Wolves didn't go after other wolves mates.

Carlisle also introduced me to the Denali clan. There were four- as Irina wasn't here- and they were stringently avoiding the wolves, seeming disgusted- at least Tanya and Kate were- with my friendship with them, though they made sure not to show in front of me. It was poorly disguised though. Neither Carmen nor Eleazar seemed particularly bothered with it though.

Eleazar had once been part of the Volturi. He reminded me a bit like Felix, with the height, build, black hair colour, and even the way his hair was styled. Carmen was also dark haired, which was in contrast to Tanya and Kate's blondness. The only difference was that Tayna's hair was curled while Kate's was straight.

I admit to getting slightly jealous when Tanya and Kate danced with Carlisle, but I made sure not to show it. It didn't matter. This was our wedding and Carlisle would never cheat on me.

I noticed however, that Marcel and Esme danced quite a few dances together and I stopped to observe them, a smirk on my face. After the last dance, Marcel kissed the back of Esme's hand before catching my eye and heading over.

"What's that look for?" He asked, holding his hand out for me to dance.

"See someone you like?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marcels already dark cheeks flushed darker. "She is quite a beauty." He sighed, "But I don't know if she likes me or if she was simply indulging me."

"Esme doesn't play with feelings." I said softly. "And at the same time. . . there are certain mindsets you ought to prepare for if you were to. . . become far more intimate with her. She is very. . . old-fashioned."

"Like Carlisle." Marcel nodded.

"Exactly." I muttered.

"What century is your dress style after?" Marcel asked in blatant curiosity.

"The late 1600s, early 1700s." I answered calmly. "You like?"

"You look absolutely lovely." Marcel assured me. He smiled a little and then said, "It is much better than what others had planned originally."

Yes, Azim's mother had been planning our wedding for some time even when he hadn't proposed. She had shown me traditional wedding clothes from Iraq. There was a headdress I was required to wear and the veil wasn't supposed to be lifted higher than my lips. Not to mention she had picked a wedding dress that covered every inch of my skin.

"I'm happy." I whispered. "I've never been so happy and it. . . sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me."

Marcel shook his head, "Nothing at all beloved. You are simply in love. True love."

The dance ended and Marcel kissed my cheek. I smirked, "Tell Esme I said hi, won't you?"

Marcel glared at me before smirking and making his way back to Esme.

"Davina!" Alice sang, dancing over. "It's time to cut the cake!"

The cake was huge naturally. It had five layers, just as Alice had said and each layer was a different flavor. But apparently the top and bottom were both vanilla. The flowers were also frosted- not real like I originally thought- sticking to the cake. The leaves were also edible, along with all the other decorations make of fondue.

Carlisle stood behind me, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other over my hand as we cut down into the cake. I shoved a piece of cake into his mouth- as custom- and he swallowed it without making a face, which was impressive. He gave me a much smaller piece- he was far nicer than I was- and it was absolutely delicious.

We fed the wolves cake last- so that the other guests would have some- while all the vampires said they were 'full'.

Originally with the garter and flower toss, we had wanted to do Emily and Sam on purpose. However, with Leah in the crowd, I didn't want to hurt her. So instead, Carlisle shimmied the garter down my leg, making me blush bright red and sent it straight into Edward's face. Meanwhile I turned my back, flinging the bouquet high into the air, straight into Bella's unsuspecting hands.

Leah sent me a look that said 'thanks'. I nodded slightly, smiling a little before Carlisle swooped in for another dance.

"Your brother is getting to close to my sister." Carlisle grumbled, pulling me flush against his chest.

I glanced over my shoulder quickly to see that Marcel and Esme were dancing together once again. Esme, being my maid of honor, was wearing a light blue dress to match the bridesmaids, but hers had more flourish and jewels down the front. It was also make mostly of almost see through silk instead of light blue fabric. She looked stunning in it and Marcel wasn't the only man in attendance that couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Billy Black looked rather reluctant that he couldn't dance, before quickly turning his attention to something else every time he realized he was staring. But his eyes always seemed to drift back to Esme.

Personally, I though either Billy or Marcel could make Esme happy. But I also thought that with the complications, Billy would technically be better. She wouldn't have to explain to him about vampires and werewolves- he already knew.

The flipside would be if the Volturi found out about their relationship and whether they would make Billy be a vampire or not. I wondered if Billy would choose love over morals or if he would rather die. I also wondered if becoming a vampire would heal his legs and make him able to walk.

Marcel on the other hand was literally born to be a vampire. You had to be with the name 'Marcel'. In The Originals, the character with the name 'Marcel' was the head vampire and by the end of it, became a very powerful vampire. More powerful than the Mikelsons.

But then there was also the complication of actually telling Marcel about vampires and werewolves. Not to mention, once again, the idea of whether he would actually want to be a vampire and also the Volturi.

"Does it bother you?" I asked him slightly.

He looked down at me, his golden eyes penetrating, his smile warm. "No." He bent down to kiss me. "I say we should leave, don't you?" Carlisle chuckled, kissing me underneath my ear.

"Most certainly. Before Lord pops out and things escalate in front of the crowd." I teased. We were just going to sneak out of the reception, but Emmett, Jasper, Edward, and Alice stopped us, forcing us to walk out the front doors, running as they- and everyone else- threw rice. And unfortunately with both vampires and werewolves in the crowd, the handfuls were rather accurate.

"Remind me whenever they all get married to return the favor." I muttered as Carlisle and I slipped into the car and he sped out of the church parking lot. I took off my shoes, dumping the rice out the window.

Carlisle chuckled, sweeping one hand over my hair. Rice grains cascaded down and I sighed, shaking my head. "Vampires have excellent senses and all, but I'm telling you you're never going to get all the rice grains out."

"No, probably not." Carlisle laughed.

"So. Where are going?" I prompted. "I thought we weren't going to have a honeymoon?"

"It's not an official one." Carlisle agreed. "We're going to California."

"Very sunny." I said slowly. "Excellent excuse for us to stay inside all day."

Carlisle smirked, "Duly noted love."

I pulled out my phone, opening up Wattpad, and selecting a Harry Potter fanfiction to read.

"I'll leave you alone if you tell me the title of the book you're reading." Carlisle smirked, snaking one hand over to grab one of mine. It was hard to read with one hand, but I didn't mind as I loved holding his hand more.

I paused, knowing very well I couldn't just say it was a oneshot called Our Naughty Little girl between Severus x Remus x Y/N.

"Er. Midnight Tasting." I lied. "By um ."

"Never heard of it." Carlisle sounded intrigued and I tried not to burst into a fit of nervous giggles.

"Oh well, um, it's not like. . . a real story. It's called a fanfiction. Where people take other people's stories and they um. . . change them to fit better. Like um. . ." I wracked my brain to see if I could figure out a famous fandom that he knew. "Well I guess like the Vampire Diaries that we've been watching. Some people ship Stefan and Elena. Others ship Damon and Elena. So sometimes, they'll write stories that don't go with how the tv show went. Or other times, they'll invent a whole character and stick them in the book and change some of the events. And other times, they will write stories that make it sound like you're in the story. They use 'Y/N' which means 'your name.'"

"Huh." Carlisle said, speeding down the highway. "That's very interesting."

I flushed, "Yeah. My favorite are the mature ones. They're um. . . more detailed oriented."

I grinned because he had no idea what I was saying. I finished reading the oneshot, feeling thoroughly aroused before moving onto another story. Damn, not smut.

I hated being robbed.

[alaskashigh]

okay so im back with my werewolf colorado family headcanon and i was thinking about who his main children would be. (like who would show up the most) and like i was thinking maybe Denver and Colorado Springs being twins and the two oldest based off of population. (idk why i like the thought of them being twins, i just thought it was neat) then there would be the middle kids and then the youngest. i was thinking having like 5 or 6 kids mainly be apart of the entire story with some of colorados other kids randomly showing up here and there but idk. ive been having a lot of fun with this headcanon so im definitely going to be talking about it more lol 

[leon-doggo]

The whole family!!!

Willow is Michael and Forrest’s, and Alex’s other father is still unknown to Michael.

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: children horror

[doctorsiren]

two more monster hunter au doodles before I sleep

[terato-is-life]

For a few of us, monsterfucking is never about kinking over some creature having you in all the ways possible.

It is about letting yourself being vulnerable and fragile and emotional with someone that's supposed to hurt and kill you, but instead just worships you and cares about you for being just like them:

Being shamed over the looks you've never asked for, but having the heart and sould only a few could understand.

Monsterfucking/Exophilia etc isn't just about an unusual kink.

It is OUR way of telling Beauty and the Beast, because we can see the good in them, because we all wanted for them to see the good in ours.

[heart-select]

The Company but they're dressed up for Halloween

Pt 1 / Pt 2

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Contained Monstrous Family (3)

Part One • Two • Four

When the entrapped monsters can see one another 

During a supervised ‘play-ground time’

Everyone only has the nicest things to say about you 

Something you’re family will find to be more of an obstacle than an advantage

“So you’re the latest addition to the collection? A rare and pretty vampire, huh?”

“Yes well—”

“Don’t you dare think about taking up more of Doctor (Y/n)’s time?!”

“What?!”

“First you! Then that crybaby Mothboy!”

“Mothboy? Hold on what about him!”

“Why?! You looking to steal his time with them too!?”

Unbeknownst to them they aren’t allowed to be near each other

Courtesy of your Uncle remembering them they’ll be kept at a distance so the family can’t communicate

That is not verbally 

But hunting after humans as long as they have they sure not to denote the uses of sign

‘So anything on your end, Honey?’

‘Nothing. Just a lot of pain. I think our baby’s fully indoctrinated thanks to that horrid hunter!’

‘Wait baby? I thought I was the baby?!’

“Hey, Moth thing quit moving! You’re lucky I don’t taze you just for that!” 

Turns out other contained monsters aren’t the only ones they’ll have to be worried about

Apparently, the guards seem to have quite a soft spot for the only doctor who soothes the monsters

If any of the deaf or sign-understanding guards catches on they’ll get in even more trouble

So they’re very very careful 

Forced to work on their own they all have to come up with their own plans to escape and save their family 

Whether that’s including you or not

“Look human the only reason I’m talking now is because you are useful. If you weren’t wearing that blindfold I would’ve killed you!”

“I have no doubts about that...but I heard you know the Mothman we’ve recently got custody of. Is this true?”

“...Why?”

“Because I want to negotiate for you two to spend time together.”

“You…can do that?”

“I can. No one likes to be alone and I’m sure it’s better for all of us if you stay happy. That sound like a plan to you?”

“Yeah…but there’s someone else I also want to meet.”

“We can work with that too.”

With all of them concocting their own plans to escape and save their family 

Things are certainly going to get a lot more hectic at the Monster’s Containment Facility

[rainbowwonderlandsblog]

Yoko: So, how drunk did you guys get last night?

Wednesday: Enid tried to burn our marriage papers. She said, "Good luck returning me without the receipt!"

Divina: *dying of laughter*

[unconventional-lawnchair]

It Repeats Itself

Platonic! Remus x Werewolf! Reader

Summary: Even years after the war the effects of Voldemort's reign still had waves of effects. One just so happened to have a poor girl caught in the cross fire. (This is more of a concept then a fleshed out story-a little cliche)

WC: 3.7k

CW: Death, blood, werewolf attack, break in, severally injured kid (the reader), parent death, Remus calls the reader Star, this is an intense blurb I would very much recommend making sure you are in the right headspace for it.

The forest was eerily quiet as Remus and Sirius made their way up the narrow dirt path, the trees casting long shadows in the dim afternoon light. The scent of rain lingered in the air, mingling with something far more sinister- blood. It was faint, but unmistakable.

“Something’s not right,” Remus muttered, his grip tightening on his wand.

Sirius adjusted his leather jacket, a grim expression darkening his face. “You think Greyback’s been through here?”

“Has to be,” Remus replied. “It’s his signature, isn’t it? Isolated homes, far from help, and-” He paused, catching a stronger whiff of blood on the breeze.

“And families,” Sirius finished grimly, his voice edged with disgust.

The cottage came into view, nestled in a clearing like a forgotten relic. Its once-pristine exterior was scarred with claw marks, the front door hanging askew on its hinges.

“Let me guess,” Sirius said dryly, gesturing to the faint family crest above the door- a pair of intertwined serpents engraved in silver. “Purebloods. Old family, by the looks of it.”

“Ardent supporters of the old ways,” Remus said, his tone bitter. He remembered their names now: a husband and wife who’d made their opinions of “tainted blood” abundantly clear at Ministry functions. They’d scoffed at Muggleborns, sneered at anyone less than pure, and gone out of their way to avoid creatures like him. Moved away to avoid creatures like this.

Sirius snorted humorlessly. “Imagine the irony. Spent their whole lives preaching about blood purity, and now look- Greyback probably didn’t even spare them a second thought. Werewolves aren’t picky about their prey, are they?”

Remus shot him a sharp look but didn’t respond, his mind too focused on the task ahead. It wasn’t the time for old grievances, no matter how tempting it was to dwell on it.

“They’re still victims,” Remus said quietly, more to himself than to Sirius.

Sirius sighed. “Yeah. Even if they’d have called us both abominations.”

They stepped onto the porch, the wooden boards creaking beneath their weight. The door groaned as Sirius pushed it open, revealing a scene of chaos. Furniture lay overturned, claw marks marred the walls, and blood spattered the floor in dark, sticky pools.

“Merlin,” Sirius whispered, his voice hollow. “He really did a number on this place.”

Remus moved carefully through the cottage, his wand casting a soft glow in the dim morning light that filtered through the broken windows. The scent of blood grew stronger with each step, mingling with the acrid tang of fear and violence. His chest tightened as he pushed open the door to the sitting room.

There, crumpled together like broken dolls, were the bodies of the couple. Their once-elegant robes were soaked through with dark, congealing blood, their faces frozen in expressions of terror. Claw marks shredded their clothing and the carpet beneath them, and it was clear they’d fought to the bitter end.

Remus stared for a long moment, his jaw clenching as his grip on his wand tightened. These were the same people who would have turned their noses up at him at Ministry gatherings, who would have crossed the street to avoid being near him. And yet, he felt no satisfaction in their deaths. Only a hollow ache.

“They didn’t deserve this,” He murmured to the empty room, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Remus!” Sirius’s voice cut through the silence, sharp but low, barely above a whisper.

Remus spun around, his heart pounding. There was an urgency in Sirius’s tone that set him on edge. He quickly made his way back down the hallway, past the overturned furniture and shattered glass, following the sound of Sirius’s voice.

“Sirius?” He called, his voice equally low.

“Here,” Sirius hissed from a room at the back of the house.

The room was a bedroom- small, with faded wallpaper of enchanted stars that still flickered faintly despite the destruction. It was clearly a child’s room, but like the rest of the house, it was a wreck. The bed was overturned, sheets torn and spattered with blood. Broken toys and shattered picture frames littered the floor.

Remus’s stomach churned as he stepped inside. They weren't told a child stayed here. The air was thick, suffocating, and the coppery scent of blood was overwhelming here. Sirius stood near the wardrobe, his expression grim as he gestured silently to the floor.

Remus followed his gaze and felt acid rise in his throat. A thin trail of blood, smeared and uneven, led from the bed to the wardrobe. Tiny handprints streaked the floor, desperate and frantic.

“They dragged themselves,” Sirius said quietly, his voice unusually subdued. “From the bed to here.”

Remus swallowed hard, his grip on his wand tightening. He knelt slowly, the bile in his throat threatening to rise as he stared at the wardrobe door. It was closed, but faint scratches marred its surface, as if small fingers had clawed at it from the inside.

“Greyback doesn't spare anyone,” Sirius muttered bitterly, though there was a flicker of something in his voice- hope, maybe, that he was wrong.

Remus reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it on the wardrobe’s handle. The scent of blood and fear was stronger here, mingling with something else- something faint but unmistakable: life.

“She’s in there,” Remus said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius nodded, his wand ready but pointed away. “Go slow. Don’t scare her.”

Remus inhaled deeply, steadying himself before gently pulling the wardrobe door open.

Inside, huddled in the corner amidst a pile of torn blankets and broken toys, was a little girl. Her knees were pulled tightly to her chest, her small hands clutching at her side where a bloodied piece of fabric had been tied haphazardly. Her wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto Remus, and her lips trembled as she held up a tiny shard of glass in a shaking hand.

“Stay back!” She hissed, her voice hoarse and weak but filled with a fierce, trembling determination. “I’ll hurt you!”

Remus froze, his heart breaking at the sight of her. Her face was pale, smudged with dirt and blood, and her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. She was small, fragile, but there was a fire in her eyes that reminded him all too much of himself at that age- terrified, cornered, and desperate to fight back. He felt guilty as he felt relief. Seeing an injured child was far better then the alternative.

“Hey,” he said softly, lowering his wand and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Sirius crouched beside him, his expression unusually gentle. “We’re here to help, little one,” he said, his voice quieter than Remus had ever heard it. “You’re safe now.”

The girl’s lips quivered, but she pressed herself further into the corner, clutching the shard of glass tighter. It nicked her skin and she hissed, dropping it. She watched in horror as her last line of defense was shattered into unmanageable sizes. The second she reached for it Remus held his hands up and she flinched back.

Sirius clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he glanced at Remus. “You’re scaring her, mate,” he said under his breath, his tone somewhere between teasing and concerned.

Remus sighed, lowering his hands slowly. “I’m not trying to,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the girl. “But that glass could hurt you,” he said softly, addressing her directly. “I don’t want you to get hurt more than you already are.”

The girl’s lips trembled, and her wide, tear-streaked eyes darted between the two men. She clutched her side tighter, wincing as the movement sent another wave of pain through her small frame. Her hands, now empty of the glass shard, trembled in her lap as she pressed herself further into the corner of the wardrobe.

“Okay,” Remus said, his voice steady but gentle. “I’ll make you a deal.” He carefully removed his wand from his pocket, holding it delicately between two fingers as though it were something fragile. “This is my wand. It’s very important to me. I’ll give it to you- just so you know I won’t hurt you. Does that sound fair?”

The girl frowned, clearly confused, but her gaze flickered to the wand. Her lips parted as if to ask a question, but she quickly clamped them shut, her small body still shaking.

“It’s yours for now,” Remus said, placing the wand gently on the floor and nudging it toward her. “Just until you feel safe.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Instead, he stood, brushing the dust off his knees. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he muttered, stepping back toward the door. “I’m going to send a Patronus to Lily. Let her know we need help.”

Remus nodded without looking up, his focus still on the girl.

She hesitated for a long moment, her small hands twitching toward the wand before quickly pulling back, as if afraid it might bite. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she reached out and snatched it, clutching it tightly in her lap like a lifeline.

“There,” Remus said with a soft smile. “See? You’re in charge now.”

The girl stared at him, her tiny fingers gripping the wand so tightly her knuckles turned white. She still didn’t speak, her wide eyes filled with suspicion and fear.

“What’s your name?” Remus asked gently, sitting cross-legged on the floor to appear less intimidating.

She shook her head, her lips pressing into a firm line. “I’m not allowed to talk to strangers,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Remus’s heart twisted, but he nodded slowly, respecting her caution. “That’s very smart,” he said. “You’re absolutely right. I am a stranger. How about this- can I give you a nickname? Something just for now, until you feel safe enough to tell me your real name?”

The girl hesitated, her small brow furrowing. After a moment, she gave the faintest of nods.

“Alright,” Remus said, his voice warm and steady. “How about… Star? You have stars on your wallpaper,” he gestured gently toward the flickering patterns on the walls, “and I think it suits you.”

Her lips quirked upward ever so slightly, though it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “Star?” she repeated, her voice soft and unsure.

“Star,” Remus confirmed with a small smile. “Do you like it?”

The girl gave a tiny nod, her grip on the wand loosening just a fraction. “It’s… okay,” she said quietly, her voice trembling less than before.

“Okay is good,” Remus replied, his heart lifting just a little. “Okay is a start.”

Behind him, Sirius’s voice echoed faintly from the hallway as he sent his Patronus, its silvery light spilling into the room for just a moment before fading. Remus turned back to Star, his gentle smile never faltering.

“We’re going to take care of you, Star,” he said softly. “I promise. You’re not alone anymore.”

Star didn’t reply, but the way she held the wand a little closer to her chest and let out a shaky breath told him enough. It was a step- a small one, but a step all the same.

~~~

The trek back to Grimmauld Place was tense and quiet. Star clung to Remus like her life depended on it, her tiny fingers gripping his robes tightly as though letting go would mean being left behind. She had refused to let go of his wand, holding it protectively against her chest as her small frame shuddered against him.

Sirius walked ahead, his posture rigid as he cast wary glances over his shoulder, keeping a sharp eye out for any lingering danger. He didn’t speak much, only murmuring the occasional reassurance when Star flinched at a sound in the forest or the rustle of the wind.

When they finally stepped through the front door of Grimmauld Place, Star’s wide, frightened eyes darted around the dim hallway, her grip on Remus tightening even more.

“It’s okay,” Remus whispered to her, his voice soft and soothing. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

Lily and Regulus were waiting in the kitchen, their faces pale but determined. The moment they saw Star in Remus’s arms, their expressions shifted- Lily’s to one of heartbreak, and Regulus’s to quiet resolve.

“Merlin, she’s so small,” Lily murmured, stepping closer. Her gaze flickered to the bloodied fabric at Star’s side, and her lips pressed into a firm line. “She needs healing, Remus. That wound-”

“I know,” Remus interrupted gently, his voice steady but laced with tension. “But it’s going to take some coaxing.”

He crouched down, keeping Star close as he met her wary gaze. “Star, this is my friend Lily,” he said softly, gesturing to the red-haired woman with a warm smile. “She’s very kind, and she’s going to help you feel better. And that’s Regulus- he’s nice too, though he might look a bit scary at first.”

Regulus huffed quietly, but the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile.

Star’s grip on Remus didn’t ease, her body trembling as her gaze darted between the strangers.

“I’ll stay right here,” Remus promised. “And you can hold onto my wand the whole time. But Lily needs to look at your side, okay? It’ll hurt less after she’s done.”

After a long, agonizing moment, Star gave the smallest of nods, though her grip on Remus’s robes remained firm. Lily approached carefully, her movements slow and deliberate, while Regulus prepared potions and bandages in the background.

It took time and quiet reassurances, but eventually, they managed to ease Star away from Remus long enough for Lily and Regulus to tend to her wound. The moment they were done, Star returned to Remus’s side, clutching his wand once more and burying her face against his chest.

~~~

The house had quieted as you finally fell asleep, tucked safely in one of the upstairs rooms. Remus sat at the kitchen table, his head resting in his hands, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. Sirius leaned against the counter, his arms crossed, while Lily and Regulus sat across from Remus, their expressions heavy with concern.

“She wouldn’t let me leave,” Remus said softly, his voice barely audible. “Even for a second. I had to let her take my wand just to get her to let Lily near her.”

“She trusts you,” Lily said gently. “It’s a good thing, Remus. You made her feel safe.”

“But for how long?” Remus asked, his voice thick with frustration. “We can’t just take her to an orphanage, or the Ministry. Not if she’s been bitten.”

Before Lily could continue, the door to the kitchen creaked open. Everyone shifted to watch as James entered, holding a crying Harry’s hand.

The kitchen fell silent as the door creaked open. Harry’s soft sniffles broke the quiet as he toddled in, his tiny hand clutching James’s finger tightly. His face was red and tear-streaked, his little shoulders shaking from the remnants of a tantrum.

“Sorry to interrupt,” James said, his voice hushed but wry. “Someone decided he didn’t want to stay asleep after Lily and Reg went rushing out in the middle of the night.” He gently steered Harry toward Lily, who immediately stood to scoop him into her arms.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Lily cooed, pressing a kiss to Harry’s damp cheek as he buried his face in her shoulder. “Did we wake you? I’m so sorry, love.”

James stepped forward, his hand brushing affectionately against Regulus’s back as he leaned in to kiss him softly on the temple. Then he turned to Lily, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before settling himself against the counter beside Sirius.

His sharp eyes scanned the room, noticing the tension lingering like a storm cloud. His smile faded slightly. “Alright,” he said, folding his arms. “What’s going on? You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sirius let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Not a ghost, exactly,” he said, glancing toward Remus, who sat stiffly at the table. “But close.”

James frowned, his gaze narrowing. “Remus?”

Remus sighed, lifting his head from his hands. The exhaustion etched into his face was now accompanied by a deep sadness. “We found a child,” he said softly, his voice strained. “At the cottage Greyback attacked.”

James’s frown deepened, and he straightened up. “A child? Are they alright?”

“She’s alive,” Lily interjected gently, rocking Harry in her arms as she spoke. “But she’s hurt. And… it looks like she’s been bitten.”

James’s face hardened, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. “Bloody hell,” He muttered. “Greyback?”

Remus nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the table tightly. “She’s four,” he said quietly, his voice trembling just slightly. “Same age I was when…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

James swore under his breath, running a hand through his messy hair. “And what happens now?” he asked, his tone more subdued. “We can’t exactly hand her over to the Ministry, can we?”

“No,” Remus said firmly, his voice gaining a little strength. “We’re not handing her over to anyone. Not to the Ministry, and definitely not to some orphanage. If she’s been bitten, we all know what they’ll do to her.”

“They’ll treat her like a monster,” Regulus said quietly, his voice cold and sharp. “Lock her away, or worse.”

James nodded grimly. “Alright, so we keep her here,” he said, glancing around the room. “She’ll be safe with us.”

“And then what?” Sirius asked, his tone more serious than usual. “We can keep her safe for now, but she’s a child, Prongs. A scared, bitten child. This isn’t just a temporary fix.”

“Then we’ll find her something permanent,” Remus said, his voice unwavering. He looked around at the group, his gaze steady and determined. “She doesn’t have anyone else. I’ll take care of her. I’ll make sure she’s safe until we find an alternative.”

Lily’s eyes softened as she looked at Remus. Their eyes had a silent exchange- clear worry etched into every expression. “You’re sure?” She asked gently.

“I'm sure,” Remus replied, his voice resolute. “I’m not letting her go through what I did. Not alone. You saw how she was.. she doesn't want anyone near her.”

James nodded, clapping a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “Then we’ll help you,” he said firmly. “Whatever you need, Moony. We’re in this together.”

The sudden sound of shuffling and muffled sobbing broke through the tense quiet of Grimmauld Place, cutting through the conversation like a knife. It was faint but unmistakable, coming from upstairs where Star had been put to bed.

Everyone froze.

Lily’s eyes darted toward the staircase, and Regulus immediately stood, his wand already in hand. Sirius pushed off the counter, his usual confidence replaced with an edge of urgency. But it was Remus who moved first.

The moment Star’s frightened cry echoed down the stairs, it was as if a switch flipped inside him. His chair scraped back with a sharp screech, and before anyone could react, he was out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time. His instincts roared louder than his thoughts, Moony taking over as his protective instincts surged.

“Remus!” James called after him, already moving to follow, but Sirius stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Let him,” Sirius muttered, his voice low but steady. “Just- give him a moment.”

~~~

Remus reached the small room where you had been resting, his heart hammering in his chest. The door was slightly ajar, the soft glow of the enchanted lamp spilling into the dark hallway. He could hear her whimpering now, her breaths hitching with each quiet sob.

He pushed the door open gently, stepping inside. You were huddled on the bed, your small frame trembling as you clutched his wand tightly to your chest. Your wide eyes darted toward him, filled with panic, and you let out a small, broken cry.

“Remus!” You whimpered, her voice cracking.

“I’m here,” He said softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and crouched beside the bed, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Your small fingers tightened around his wand, her tiny knuckles turning white. You blinked up at him, her tears streaking through the grime on her face. “I-I thought you left,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Remus felt his heart twist painfully at her words. He reached out slowly, placing his hand palm-up on the edge of the bed, giving her the choice to take it. “I’ll never do that,” he promised, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m right here, Star. Yeah?.”

You hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between his face and his hand. Then, slowly, you released your grip on the wand just enough to reach out and grab his hand with both of hers. Her small fingers clung to him desperately, as if letting go would make him disappear.

“You’re safe now,” Remus murmured, his other hand moving to gently brush the hair from her tear-streaked face. “Nothing will hurt you here. I won’t let it.”

You let out a shaky breath, your small frame still trembling as you leaned toward him. Without thinking, Remus lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You buried your face in his shoulder, your sobs quieting but not stopping entirely.

Behind him, the faint creak of footsteps signaled Sirius’s arrival. He lingered in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he watched Remus hold you. After a moment, he stepped inside, his movements uncharacteristically cautious.

“She okay?” Sirius asked quietly, his voice softer than usual.

Remus nodded, his hand gently rubbing Star’s back. “She thought we’d left her.”

Sirius’s jaw tightened, a flicker of something dangerous flashing in his eyes. “No one’s leaving her,” he said firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”

Your grip on Remus tightened at Sirius’s words, her small voice muffled against his shoulder. “Don’t go…”

Remus held her closer, his resolve hardening. “I’m not going anywhere, Star,” he said softly. “I promise.”

And in that moment, he knew- no matter what challenges lay ahead, no matter how difficult the road might be- he would do whatever it took to keep that promise. You weren't just a scared child they’d rescued. You were his. He knew it the moment he found you in that closet.

[braveclementine]

Scars, Tattoos, and Fainting. Not Quite in That Order

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Davina P.O.V.

I got dressed casually. It was a warmer day out so I put on a white tank top, black jeans, white laced up boots, and took my black purse. I also brought one of my blue and gray hoodies, but I didn't wear it because I didn't really need it.

I hopped on my motorcycle and headed for Jacob's place because I knew that was where the guys were going to meet before going back to Emily's for breakfast.

Plus, Jared and I had a bet that one of us would make it back to Emily's faster and I had to use the motorcycle to my advantage of course.

I pulled up and I saw that four of the five boys were there. Jacob was the one missing. And then I saw Bella was storming over to them and I froze. Oh dear.

I now wished I hadn't worn the white boots as they were probably going to get mud on them. I should've worn the black. I quickly stopped the motorcycle, hurrying over to them.

Bella was already near them, talking angrily with them and I quickly ran over. "Bella!"

Something Bella said was making Paul laugh and I knew Bella was just going to piss him off.

That was when Bella reached her arm back and punched Paul across the face.

"Bella!" I yelled. "What the hell!"

Paul was shaking now, even as Sam went and put a hand out on his chest.

"Too late now." Embry teased.

"Bella, get back." Sam ordered, his eyes flicking to me, "Davina, back."

"I'm not the dog." I muttered, standing in front of Paul, "Paul, listen to me, it doesn't matter, all right. You just need to calm down."

"Paul! Calm down, now." Sam ordered, shooting a look between me and Paul, warning me to step back.

Spit was flying from Pauls' mouth.

"Paul please." I begged, stepping forward to put a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright."

It was too late, he transformed, his claws catching me, sending me sprawling into Jared.

"Ow." I muttered, sitting upright.

"Mom." Jared asked, frantically. Sam was holding Embry back from doing anything as Jake came running from the house, jumping over Bella and turning into a wolf too.

I jumped to my feet. "No! They can't fight!"

"Mom!" Jared said, holding me back. "You're bleeding. Calm down."

I blinked, taking in the claw marks that went down my arm. They were heavily bleeding and they hurt like hell. These were definitely going to scar.

I hissed. "Damn."

"I told you to get out of the way." Sam said angrily as Jake and Paul did a standoff.

"I thought-"

"No one can control Paul when he gets like that, no matter how much of a mother you are to him!"

Paul and Jacob started to fight more ferociously, biting at each other as Jake started to push Paul towards the forest, breaking Billy's boat in the process. I wondered if Billy was watching and crying over his boat.

"Hey! Take Bella back to Emily's place." Sam ordered Embry and Jared.

"Guess the wolfs out of the bag." Embry muttered as the three of us jogged over to Bella who was still staring into the forest where Jake and Paul had disappeared into.

Jared and I rode in the back of Bella's truck while Embry drove. They had a bet on whether or not she would throw up.

I sighed. Jared had given me a shirt from somewhere and I had wrapped my arm with it. I would use some of Emily's medicine. I should really start paying her.

As we pulled up, the three of us made yelping noises to let Emily know we were here. Then Jared helped me down from the truck while Embry climbed out, letting Jared know that Bella didn't vomit.

"I think we should go back and see if Jacob's okay." Bella called out the window.

"He'll be fine." I said, heading into Emily's kitchen.

They argued behind me until Embry called, "Come on in Bella! We won't bite."

"Speak for yourself." Jared said.

"Jared!" I scolded him.

"Sorry mom." Jared grinned.

"You guys hungry?" Emily asked, her back to us as we filed into the kitchen.

I could smell blueberry and cranberry muffins.

Emily turned with the muffins and I saw that she had made a couple of chocolate muffins too and I grinned, taking one.

"Oh, who's this." Emily said in obvious surprise, looking from me to Bella.

"Bella Swan. Who else?" Jared asked with a shrug.

"Leave it to Jacob to find a way around." Emily murmured, looking rather unfriendly at Bella. I knew she was worried about what this would do to the pack. "So you're the vampire girl."

"Yes. Are you the wolf girl?" Bella asked stiffly.

The four of us laughed and Emily warmed up a little. "I guess I am. Where's Sam?"

I snorted.

"Bella, er, surprised Paul this morning."

"She punched him in the face." I corrected.

Emily rolled her eye. "Ah, Paul. Do you think they'll be long? I was just about to start the eggs."

"Don't worry, if they're late, we won't let anything to to waste."

Emily laughed. "No doubt. Bella, are you hungry? Go ahead and help yourself to a muffin. Davina, you know where the bandages and other ointments are."

"Thanks." I replied, taking my muffin with me as I fished out supplies and then headed to the bathroom. I washed the wound, taking cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide, cleaning the wound, gripping the counter when it burned, before bandaging it. That would be it for today. Later tonight I could apply Neosporin ointment to it.

I stepped out of the bathroom and entered the kitchen, putting things away. That was when Sam entered the room, striding across it saying, "Emily."

I tried not- like Bella- to wince at the love in his voice. So much love. I would never have anyone say my name like that ever.

"Hey, none of that. I'm eating." Jared complained.

"Then shut up and eat." Sam replied.

I knew they were kissing so I spent an extra long time taking care to put the things away.

"Ugh." Embry groaned.

"Davina." Sam said and I turned to look at him. He looked worried, "How are the scratches."

"Deep. Might scar. But they should heal up alright." I said with a shrug. "Next time I'll get out of the way."

"Next time." Sam grumbled.

"Wait." Bella said as Paul and Jacob entered the kitchen, "So you knew?"

"Knew? Of course I knew. How could I not, my dratted brother being what he is." I sighed dramatically.

Sam grunted, unimpressed, "Don't quote me Harry Potter."

I grinned but ignored him, answering Bella instead, "Yeah, I knew."

"You haven't quoted anything in a while." Sam murmured to himself.

I punched his shoulder, although it was true. I had stopped quoting things as much when Carlisle had left. Left. . . more like ran. Abandoned me. . . stop thinking.

"Sorry." Paul said apologetically to Bella and then turned to me, "I really am sorry mom."

"I know Paul." I sighed, ruffling his hair, "I'll forgive you as long as you don't eat any of my chocolate muffins."

"Want to go on a walk?" Jacob asked Bella in a low voice.

"Sure." Bella muttered.

They obviously had things to talk about. I munched happily on my chocolate muffins, leaning up against the counter like Emily like the boys sat around the table eating.

I helped Emily with making sausages and bacon while she made as many eggs as she could.

After a half hour, we were done making breakfast and at that moment, that was when Jacob and Bella walked in. Jacob was excited, Bella looked scared.

I turned around, grabbing my glass of milk to drink. "I know what the red head wants." Jacob said quickly and everyone but me turned to face him.

Redhead? What redhead? Did we know a redhead?

"And?" Jared asked when Jacob didn't continue.

"She is trying to avenger her mate- only it wasn't the black-haired leech we killed. The Cullens got her mate last year, and she's after Bella now."

Wait.

"She's just a girl." Embry protested.

"I didn't say it made sense. But that's why the blood-sucker's been trying to get past us. She's been heading for Forks." Jacob amended.

"Excellent. We've got bait." Jared said with a smile.

My body felt weird. Victoria was back.

Jacob yanked the can opener off the counter, launching it at Jared's head. Jared reached up, snagging it out of the air before he hit his face, to calmly for my liking.

"Bella is not bait." Jacob growled.

"You know what I mean." Jared said calmly, putting the can opener down on the table.

"Wait." I finally managed to say aloud and everyone turned to look at me. "Victoria's back?"

Some sort of panic was seizing me and it didn't make sense. What the hell was happening to me?

"Victoria?" Paul snorted.

"You didn't think to tell me she was back?" I asked Sam angrily.

My hand was shaking, my head was spinning, and I felt so, so hot. I heard the sound of a mug hitting the floor, milk going everywhere, and everything went black.

------------------

"Dav?" Sam's voice whispered in my ear in worry. "Dav are you okay?"

"I'm trying to sleep." I muttered.

"Wake up Dav." Sam said forcefully.

I blinked my eyes open to find just about everyone standing over me, eyes shining with worry.

I had been moved to the small living room now, laying down on the couch and I sat up quickly. "Oh!"

"I'm sorry." Sam said apologetically. "It's not like we knew the name of the vampire."

"Right. No. I know. Sorry." I muttered. "I don't know why. . . it was like. . . I don't know."

Sam gave me a worried look.

"I feel fine now." I muttered.

"Good." Sam said and then ordered everyone back to the kitchen. "Look, Dav, is there any chance that this. . . Victoria would be after you too?"

I hesitated, "I don't know. James- that's her mates name- he was after me originally because of my blood."

"I thought vampires weren't affected by your scent." Sam questioned.

"Most of them aren't." I sighed, "My blood gives vampires two reactions. Indifference, my blood doesn't smell like anything but fruit and it's a comforting scent. Something to calm them down when they get angry. Or, it riles them up. It's the most potent blood in the world for them. It's called being a vampire's blood singer. For Laurent and Victoria, they barely registered my scent, thought I was a vampire at first. For James however. . ."

"I'm surprised he didn't attack you when he first. . ." Sam drifted off, concern on his face.

I smiled a little, "He did. Carlisle. . . he stopped him. But then, he went after Bella because Bella's scent, while not as potent, was more interesting. And also because of Edward's reaction to defending her on the baseball field. Carlisle also didn't kill James. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett did. Alice helped too I think. But I don't know."

"I can't lose you." Sam muttered.

"I'll be fine." I smiled a little. "It's Bella and Charlie you have to worry about."

"We'll keep them safe."

"Good."

I hesitated and then asked, "Sam? Can I get a tattoo?"

Sam stared at me blankly for a second and then asked, "You're asking me for permission to get a tattoo?"

"Yeah." My cheeks coloured a little. "Well I. . . I want that."

I rested a finger on the one on his shoulder. The one that marked him as a werewolf. "Not on my shoulder and not as large. Just a small one on the inside of my wrist." I pointed to where I wanted it.

Sam was silent for a long time and I was afraid that he was offended. "Sorry, it's stupid." I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the couch to head back to the kitchen.

Sam drew me into a hug, burying his head into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Yeah Dav, you can get the tattoo."

"Love you Sammy."

"Love you too Davina." Sam murmured. "Please don't do anything stupid."

"Harry invited me to go 'wolf hunting' with him. I said yes." I said hesitantly. "But he really just wants me to help him cover up any clues like footprints and stuff. You okay with that?"

Sam hesitated, his large dark eyes gazing back at me, "Yeah, I think that'll be okay. I doubt the vampire will mess with a large group and one of us will be nearby anyways."

"Don't get shot." I said in worry.

Sam and I headed back into the kitchen where Emily had already cleaned up the mess and my chocolate muffin was in the refrigerator.

I raised an eyebrow and Paul said, "I didn't want the muffin to go to waste."

I laughed, hugging Paul tightly.

"Jacob thinks it would be best if you spent as much time as possible here in La Push. She- this vampire- won't know where to find you so easily, just in case." Sam said as he leaned against the counter to Bella.

Bella looked at me and then back to Sam, "What about Charlie?" she demanded.

"March Madness is still going. I think Billy and Harry can manage to keep Charlie down here when he's not at work." Jacob said.

"Wait." Sam said, glancing between Emily, Bella, and myself, "That's what Jacob thinks is best, but you need to decide for yourself. You should weight the risks of both options very seriously. You saw this morning how easily things can get dangerous here, how quickly they get out of hand. If you choose to stay with us, I can't make any guarantees about your safety."

"I won't hurt her." Jacob muttered.

"If there was somewhere else you felt safe. . ." Sam suggested.

"You could come to my house." I said with a shrug. "Although I really spend a lot of time at the hospital and here so maybe not."

"I don't want to lead Victoria anywhere else." Bella finalized, looking at me.

Sam nodded. "That's true. It's better to have her here, where we can end this."

I flinched along with Bella. I really didn't want Sam- or any of my boys- to get hurt.

"You'll be careful, right?" Bella asked.

The boys broke into laughter while Emily and I stayed silent.

"Bells, I need a ride back to Billy's." I said. "Coming Jacob?"

"Ah, yeah." Jacob said.

I kissed Sam's cheek, ruffled all my boys heads, hugged Emily lightly, and then followed Bella and Jacob out to the truck, hopping into the truck bed again, tapping the hood lightly to let them know I was good to go.

We spent a majority of the day at Billy's house. I chatted with Billy about the hunting plans and also about keeping Charlie down here while Bella and Jake watched TV. Billy later called Charlie so that he could come down. Charlie brought pepperoni pizzas. I wasn't very hungry- I almost never was anymore- but I tried taking a slice. I ate about half of it.

"To Spring break." I joked with Bella, holding up my can of A&W rootbeer. "To traditions in the making."

Bella rolled her eyes, clinking her soda can with mine. "If we could go a spring break without being hunted by vampires it would be nice."

Jacob and I laughed.

------------------

A couple of nights later, I was asleep in my room when I thought I heard a commotion. I groaned, rolling over- I had previously been facing the wall- and found myself face to face with a red headed person.

My breath caught in my throat as her hand came, wrapping around my neck, trying to lift me out of bed.

And then a black wolf came out of nowhere, knocking all sorts of things off my dressers and stuff, knocking into Victoria who ran.

I sat up, gasping for breath, looking wildly around the room. What the hell? Was that a dream?

Everything was in the place that it was before. Nothing was out of place, not by a centimeter. I let out a sigh of relief. Yes, it had been a dream. I shivered, sliding my legs over the side of the bed, standing up and padding over to the bathroom.

I climbed into the shower, washing my hair with this special bamboo natural soap that was meant to thicken hair and then washed my body with dove soap bar. Chamomile smelling, meant to reduce anxiety.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my body, ignoring the fogged up mirror, and grabbing the bottle of anti-depressants. I took two with a glass of water before heading back to the bedroom to get dressed.

I dressed in blue jeans with a pink sweater and white converse. I slipped on a gold necklace and then headed to the bathroom to curl my hair.

The bathroom mirror wasn't fogged up anymore and I stopped from plugging in the curling iron, feeling my heart start to beat fast.

Around my neck were large purple bruises.

I left the bathroom, grabbing my purse, and sprinting down the stairs. I rushed to get my motorcycle, speeding down the road, thinking frantically about what had happened last night. The only one that would be able to confirm it was Sam.

I pulled to a screeching stop, letting out a small yip to let Emily know I wasn't an intruder before bursting through the door.

"Emily, where's Sam!"

"They're out." Emily said, looking at me in concern. She was working on a cake at the moment. "Why? What happened?"

I breathed in and out, placing my hands on the table. "It's just. . . last night. . . I thought Victoria was in my room and then there was a black wolf. But when I woke up, everything was like how it was when I went to bed, even though the black wolf had knocked things over. So I thought it was a dream. But then, I found that I have purple bruises around my neck. I need Sam to tell me whether it was a dream or not. Cause if it wasn't a dream, then I don't know what I'm going to do."

Emily put the icing down to come over and hug me, "It's going to be alright."

I nodded, rubbing the inside of my wrist like I did whenever I got nervous or anxious or scared. The tattoo reminded me that I was a wolf mother and I was supposed to be looking out for my cubs. Not the other way around.

Then again, Sam wasn't my cub the way the others were. Sam was. . . my brother. He would always be my brother and nothing other than my brother. Sometimes, I wished we had the same parents so that I could really claim it.

Plus- I completely envied his lovely russet skin. I could get tan, but it never matched the delicate shade the Quileute's had. And certainly not here in Forks where the sun rarely shone.

Once I had calmed down, Emily invited me to help her with the cake- which I did. She made us lunch, which I picked at and tried to eat. I really was trying to eat.

It wasn't that I didn't want to eat either, the food looked absolutely delicious and my natural sweet tooth made me crave after the cake, but my appetite was never there for it. My stomach protested against food and I hated it. I had gotten extremely thin and Sam was always forcing food on me because my thin was the unhealthy kind. We both knew it was just a result of the soulmate bond and it just fueled his hatred towards Carlisle for leaving me like this.

Sam didn't get back until late and I jumped up the minute he walked through the door. He greeted Emily first, kissing her so that the air was suddenly suffocating with love and adoration. Once he was done kissing her, he turned to me. "How are you Davina?"

"Umm, you tell me. Was there or was there not a vampire in my room last night?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Sam hesitated and then said, "There was."

I let out a sigh, "Well at least I know where the bruises came from."

"I'd much prefer if you stayed down here. I talked to Harry and he said they have an extra room at their house you can use until all of this dies down." Sam said.

"Doesn't Harry have kids?" I questioned.

He nodded, "Seth and Leah. You guys should get along."

"I don't get along with girls." I muttered, "Except you Emily."

Emily grinned, kissing Sam's cheek and putting the cake in a cakebox.

"Where are you taking that?" I asked.

"Jacob's house." Sam said. "It'll be us, the Blacks, and Charlie and Bella."

"Oh." I replied.

"You're coming too of course." Emily said. "We're only going for dessert anyways."

I nodded, "That sounds good."

"You've eaten today, right?" Sam asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Emily made me lunch."

"Did you eat it?" Sam questioned.

"A little bit." I muttered.

"Davina. . ." Sam muttered.

"Look, you know I can barely eat." I pretty much whined, "Butt out Sam."

Sam muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

"Anyways," I turned to Emily and winked, "Do you want to ride on the back of my motorcycle Em?"

"Absolutely not." Sam growled, wrapping a protective arm around Emily's waist. "I don't even want you riding that death trap Davina. Emily sure as hell isn't getting on it."

I giggled, "See you guys there."

I started up the motorcycle, driving off to Jacob's house.

I, of course, beat them there. Charlie was already there with Bella.

"Hey Charlie! Hi Bella!"

"Hey Davina!" Charlie said. "Haven't seen you in a while! How's the parents!"

Charlie had of course, seen me quite a bit, me being at his house all the time, but what he meant was that he hadn't seen me in a time where he could actually talk to me.

I was just barely able to stop the flash of pain that probably flitted across my face at the mention of my parents and I shifted uncomfortably, flashing a fake smile and said, "Not really sure. Probably good though. We haven't talked in a few years."

Charlie did one of those awkward nods and said, "Ah."

"Yeah." I muttered. Charlie turned to Sam and Emily who had just come in and I missed Billy's look of concern as I dropped the smile, trying to get a hold of the pain.

Charlie loved Emily's cake. Sam cut me a slice and watched me eat the whole thing, although for some reason, I felt full trying to eat it even though I hadn't had anything the entire day. I knew he was concerned. I was too for that matter. It wasn't like I was trying to purposefully starve myself. But I was finding I could only eat every few days.

I wished I could get better, but I didn't know how. I mean. . . it's not like there was information about what to do when your vampire soulmate with a third tier bond leaves you without saying good-bye and you start feeling completely sick on the internet. There were no vampires I could even talk to for help.

Well, I supposed I could try locating the Denali tribe. I would go to Denali and ask around for the golden eyed clan. I wasn't sure if that would work and I was partly afraid that I might run into a Cullen there. Specifically Carlisle. But if things got worse, I would tell Sam what I wanted to do and he could help me.

Bella and Jacob skipped out on us to get some space and I was getting ready to leave. I had to go back to my house to get clothes and stuff before moving into Harry's house.

I was sure it would be completely awkward, but it would also give Harry and I time to talk and plan about the hunting trip that would be happening in the future. I knew my goal was to make sure I erased any signs of the wolves and also to help Harry protect Charlie should Victoria show up. Of course, Sam didn't know about that part.

Not that guns would help harm Victoria, but I'm sure my lighter would. I was also working on a new stake because they had proven pretty useful in the past. It would at least stun her as she probably wouldn't be expecting it.

Sam took Emily home and then followed me in his truck as I made my way back to the house. I packed one suitcase full of necessities along with my backpack with my laptop and school things. He loaded the suitcase into his truck and then I followed him back to La Push, down a different road then I was used to until we reached Harry's house.

It was much larger than I was used to for a Quileute rez house. Not like it was mansion or anything, but most of the houses on the rez were small, one story houses, maybe two if they were lucky and rather small.

Harry's house had two stories and was rather wide. I wasn't sure how big it really was on the inside, but it looked big from the outside.

Harry was waiting outside, shaking hands with Sam and giving me a hug, "We've already got the room set up for you. It's across from Leah's, my daughter."

"Thank you." I said sincerely. "I'm sorry to be causing so much trouble."

"It'd be more trouble if that vampire got ahold of you." Harry grumbled, leading me into the house and we didn't talk about it anymore.

I was introduced to the rest of the family. There was Seth, who was a fourteen year old boy. He was kind've cute in a little boy kind of way. His hair was short and cropped, a good natured expression on his face. He was lightly tanned and when he smiled, he had these dimples. He was just slightly muscular and though his skin was a little warmer than mine, it was nowhere near as hot as the wolves.

Leah on the other hand looked older than she was. She was only sixteen or seventeen, but looked like she could be in her twenties. Her black hair was short, shoulder length, and cropped. She was thin, but the muscular thin that made her look like she could be an actress in an action movie. Like a Marvel superhero. She didn't seem to like me as much as her brother did, but was still polite enough in front of her parents.

Sue was a very pretty woman, thin with wide hips, and long beautiful black hair. Her teeth were straight and white and when she smiled, it lip up the room. I could see why Harry was in love with her and it was clear she was very much in love with him.

"Welcome Davina." She said, stepping forward and hugging me.

I was pleasantly surprised, hugging her back.

"Thanks. I hope I won't be to much of a bother. It should only be-" I looked at Harry quickly. "A week or so give or take."

"It's no problem." Sue said, "No problem at all."

I smiled.

"Are you hungry?" Sue continued.

"Ah, no. I ate at the Blacks' place." I said. "But thanks."

"Alright, well Leah? Do you want to show Davina to her room?"

"Sure mom." Leah said, "This way."

I nodded to Seth and Harry before following Leah up the stairs to my room.

"So, you're Sam's sister, are you?" Leah asked.

I licked my lips nervously. I had heard the stories of course. How in love Leah and Sam had been before Leah's cousin- Emily- had come down and Sam had imprinted. That was probably why she didn't like me. Being Sam's 'sister' and all.

"Technically speaking no. We're not related. But I consider him my brother." I replied softly. "We're close."

Leah nodded, opening up the door to a small room, "This is your room."

"Thanks." I whispered.

Leah and I stood there for a second and then she turned, going into a door that was just a little to the left of mine and went in, closing the door behind me.

"Don't mind her." Seth had followed us up and he was giving me puppy dog eyes. "She. . . is very touchy about Sam."

"No, I understand." I whispered softly. "I know what it's like to be left in love."

"Maybe you could help her." Seth said excitedly.

"Maybe. But I don't know if she likes me very much. Being Sam's kind've sister after all." I sighed. "Anyways, I should get some sleep. It's really nice meeting you Seth. Hopefully we can become good friends."

"Yeah!" His eyes lit up and I smiled.

"Night Seth."

"Night Davina."

I went into the room, closing the door quietly behind me, looking around.

It was a small room. The walls were white with only a small round mirror on one of the walls. The bed was set up against the windows with an arm chair next to it and a dresser at the foot of the bed. There was a small lamp between the bed and the armchair and there were also a few plants in the room. I smiled. I really loved it.

I set my suitcase down in the corner, closing the shades on the windows. Then I undressed quickly, climbing into bed.

Tomorrow would be a very interesting day.

[hel-unleashed]

I'm having a high dosage of copium pumped directly into my veins right now

[alteredinstincts]

Anyone elses nonhumanity create a disconnect from their family? My parents are my parents the same way they parent the family pets, I’m loyal to them as long as they are loyal to me.

But with my siblings, there are times I feel think “you would not survive as I would, as I did. I could rip you to shreds.” I still care for them, they’re my family, but they aren’t my pack and I know they never will be.

Maybe that’s just my cain instinct kicking in though.

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Dante is my favorite character.