Note: If you guys remember Marshall's character archive, you'll know that his original gift was supposed to be power over lightning and fire. I initially chose those to match his fiery, wild temper. Even after cementing his tattoos-coming-to-life ability, I often found myself still thinking about the original one. I even thought up a whole fight sequence where he, once again, kicks Edward's ass and embarrasses him in front of literally everyone. This fight sequence will be a bit different than the one in the final draft, though—because in this one, Marshall actually loses his temper and purposely decides to not hold back.

And can I just say that unhinged, feral, I'll-kill-you-where-you-stand Marshall is just...wqjbejfbejshfbrjegbrj 😂😂😂

Ready for more badass moments with our favorite vampire? Well then, let's get to it!

Also: for this part, I'm bringing back the trait where Marshall is the fastest vampire in the coven!

***

Slender hands glided along the surface of fluffy, silver-colored fur. Smooth finger pads wove in deeper to get an indulgent feel of warmer skin hiding underneath. Vibrations ran along his palm, the sound happening in time with each delicate stroke along sensitive areas.

It was cute that Paul rumbled, the dog equivalent to purring, whenever he received gentle pets from his imprint.

Marshall's loving gesture acted as both one of affection, as well as one to help keep his anxiety at bay.

He'd been dreading this day ever since the pack agreed to help the Cullens deal with Victoria's newborn army.

Now, to be fair, fight training would be beneficial for the wolves. It wasn't common for the pack to run into newly turned vampires. Normal hunts consisted of going after rogues with no coven, or the occasional small groups that never really posed much of an issue in terms of being dealt with. Plus, with vampires usually running away whenever they caught sight of the wolves, experiencing a physical fight head on was rare.

In order to get a better idea on how newborns would utilize their abilities, it was appropriate to witness a fight between experienced creatures.

That didn't mean Marshall was going to enjoy being near his family, though.

Things were okay with Esme and Carlisle. For everyone else, Marshall had no desire to even look in their direction upon the pack's expected arrival.

He could already pick up their distinct, sweet coppery scent. He could already hear their huffs and yells and snarls. It was practically impossible to not feel a wall of cold coming from their vicinity when he was surrounded by a bundle of warmth.

Marshall felt out of place whenever he was around his coven. 

But for the sake of appropriate preparation, he ignored a growing urge to turn around and go back home.

Additional low growls from other wolves helped to instill a sense of safety—a sense of belonging.

There was a unanimous agreement that the pack would leave at their vampire's discretion.

He greatly appreciated the sentiment.

Stepping on a branch alerted the Cullens of their guests' arrival. A sea of golden irises moved toward the treeline. Apprehension was seen via clenched jaws, tightening fists, narrowed eyes, and stiff posture. Clothes were covered in stray pine needles from previous sparring matches. Flawless facial features were marred by miniscule smudges of dirt from people being thrown across the ground.

Tension continued to escalate.

"You're late."

"Count yourself lucky that we even came at all."

Marshall and Edward glared daggers at each other. 

It took every ounce of self restraint to not pounce when the latter scoffed.

"Edward," Carlisle warned before moving to address the pack. "We appreciate you all deciding to join us today. You haven't missed much- just a bit of early warmups on our part. Apologies if this meeting is an inconvenience at all. To...any of you."

Marshall regarded his father with a single nod. "The pack has chosen to stay in their wolf forms for this. They're only here to observe and learn any pieces of information which could be vital for their safety on the battlefield. They are under no obligation to get involved. And we will be leaving when I deem it suitable."

"I understand. Thank you for the heads up."

Esme took a step forward, attention moving toward her. "You're under no obligation to get involved today either, honey. I just want you to know that. It's your pack, your rules. If you'd rather sit back and observe with them, that's perfectly fine."

"Mm. We'll see what happens."

Marshall sat down where he was, legs crossed. When a heavy weight settled in behind him, he took the liberty of leaning back. He instantly made contact with his mate's body. The crescent shape of the wolf's torso was a perfect spot to use as a makeshift backrest. Dark waves mixed with silver fur when nuzzling against a soft underbelly. A loose hold was taken around a long tail after it took residence in his lap.

Lighthearted pets from before resumed.

Disgusted, judgmental expressions from certain vampires were ignored.

Marshall didn't bother holding back a yawn out of boredom. "Go on, then. Time is of the essence and all that. Better get to it while I still have the patience to sit here."

*

Although witnessing the Cullens go back and forth with each other wasn't anything spectacular, watching a few of them get knocked on their asses was pretty hilarious to see.

Especially Edward.

His ability to read people's thoughts didn't aid him when his movements were too slow to back him up. Going against more capable opponents, like Carlisle or Jasper, were matches that ended before they truly even began. Because amateurish punches, kicks, and jabs were executed in a wild, blatantly random manner. Edward was prone to using the get-it-over-with approach by attempting to use his superior speed to get the upper hand. He wasn't, however, adept at blocking attacks which broke through his defenses. He got distracted easily, most likely because his attention darted toward Bella whenever the opportunity arose.

Then, when it came to fighting someone like Emmett, Edward's inferior strength was no match for a battle with a literal tank.

Emmett's stature alone was intimidating to those he fought. His punches were fierce, and a single headbutt from him at the right angle could be lethal. It was easy for him to rush his way into a battle because no one was physically strong enough to try and hold him back.

Edward's raging superiority complex only made his defeats that much more entertaining.

Marshall gave his own two cents whenever a member of the pack seemed confused or curious about something. They'd spent so much time together, the vampire grew accustomed to what specific noises meant. Same for silent mannerisms like head tilts, ear flicks, and paw scratches. So, whenever necessary, detailed explanations were given on: how to properly react to an opponent utilizing the terrain for battle, how to get out of a bind if an ambush happened, the quickest way to kill someone if they went for the obvious reach-and-grab method, etc. He also used his own expertise in combat to point out flaws in people's stances which could easily be broken with a simple shove at the right time.

Marshall knew being on the sidelines was different than actually experiencing a face to face clash; but getting input from someone with a keen eye and above average intellect on the matter was just as important as the training itself.

He was confident in the wolves' ability to use their newfound comprehension to better protect themselves.

"Y'know, I- I'm sorry but someone has to say it. What was even the point of inviting the wolves if they're not even going to attempt to fight any of us? I mean, really, do they think they're good enough for only surface level observations to help them?"

Edward's confrontational statements were met with silence on all sides. 

For some reason, despite a few of the coven members shooting him cautious glances, he continued to go on his rant.

"We've heard that you mutts were the ones who killed Laurent when the family was away. And while that's great, it literally took your entire pack to take down one man. It took your entire pack to track down Victoria, and you couldn't even come close to killing her. Then, the one time we tried to work together, you guys were more obsessed with keeping Emmett off of your territory, you let our common enemy get away. Seriously, how incompetent can you guys be-"

"That's enough," Marshall interrupted with a firm tone. "You really need to stop talking-"

"No, you need to stop talking! You need to stop talking and learn to actually do things for this family! Ever since you started dating Paul, you've done nothing but be selfish! You don't do anything for the coven anymore- you don't care about the troubles we've had to go through with other vampires because you're too busy in la-la-land to do anything of importance! Just because you found a boyfriend doesn't mean you're allowed to fall behind on your duties! Just because a mutt imprinted on you doesn't mean you're suddenly going to stop doing what we expect out of you- and that's for you to do as we say!"

Edward's final argument was enough to make the wolves snarl at him. Their faces scrunched up in agitation, and their bodies shook out of genuine rage for anyone having the audacity to talk about their vampire like that.

But Marshall—all he did was stare.

In the time it took Edward to take five heavy breaths, Marshall's expression remained passive.

That is, until, a single hand was brought up to silence the wolves.

They did so without further pushback.

"You know, you're talking a lot of shit for someone who's never actually won in a fight against me. Do you really want me to teach you another lesson on why it's a big mistake to piss me off? You know better than anyone how little restraint I have if you push my buttons hard enough."

Edward swallowed. "And that's big talk for someone who hasn't stepped into the ring yet."

"...Tiger."

Paul turned so he could make eye contact with his imprint.

"Would you be a doll and keep my spot warm for me? I'll only be a second."

A quiet rumble was followed by a soft lick on the shoulder.

"Thank you, darling."

Marshall rose to his full height. His back was bent in a way to make his lower spine crack. The same noise resounded from the upper portion, along with his sternum, when bringing his arms up and puffing out his chest. Slow steps were taken forward. Each footfall was amplified by a crack from each individual knuckle.

Edward readied himself by getting into a loose stance.

Chuckling, Marshall stopped in his designated spot. Both arms were brought down but still remained slightly bent at the elbow. His choice of position made it easy for everyone else to watch in astonishment as his hands clenched, pushing the veins near his wrists outward.

The harder his grip tightened, the more his forearm blood vessels bulged against his skin. They changed color as well, morphing into a dark, unnatural purple. They faded into a deep black when stopping at his biceps.

Marshall's stance widened.

His bangs fell into his face, shielding one eye.

He stared at his opponent with a large, fearless grin.

And that's when Edward realized he made a grave mistake in asking for a match.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!"

Marshall vanished from his spot. He peered directly into his coven mate's eyes before a harsh fist was brought to the man's face. The attack came so fast, he wasn't able to dodge in time and was sent flying into the forest. 

Every tree he hit fell down from the brute force.

Marshall began laughing out of crazed, genuine glee. "Aww, come on now- that can't be it already. You got me all worked up, Eddie. I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

Marshall ran after his opponent, a trail of leaves fluttering in his wake.

He didn't bother looking for Edward since hiding behind obstacles would make it easier to plan out an attack. So, instead, Marshall followed his sharp sense of smell which further amplified during times of excitement.

He could pick up every little thing: the wolves' unique fragrance, the Cullens overwhelming stench, an army of ants trudging along a leaf to get to their burrow, unhatched chicks taking refuge in a nest high above, a squirrel spending its afternoon nap within the hollow center of a nearby pine tree. Marshall was able to perceive different aromas and cast them aside when they were reckoned to be unimportant.

He was out for blood—so to speak—and knew exactly what smell he was looking for.

It was attempting to shield itself beneath a curtain of vines hanging nearby.

Marshall's feral grin expanded.

"There you are!"

He appeared in front of Edward, successfully landing another brutal punch to the face.

Edward scurried across the ground before attempting to run back toward the clearing. 

Marshall wasn't having any of that, though. He chose to use the terrain by taking the high ground. A quick jump flung him upward. Clawed hands dug into the rough surface of a thick branch strong enough to support his weight. Swinging of the legs made his body flip until both feet landed in a spacious nook.

Enhanced strength used in his legs catapulted him toward his target.

Edward looked up in shock.

"Come on, Eddie- don't tell me you're scared. You wanted to pick a fight with me, right? So go ahead and fight me!"

While still in midair, Marshall allowed himself to flip. Wind rushed against his skin because of his intense speed. 

Everyone else could barely perceive him as a blur.

Even so, they were all able to witness, clear as day, when Marshall landed on the ground. Beams of lightning shot out from his feet. Purple electric streaks ran from him to follow their own paths. Some went up trees. Others disappeared after making the ground quake upon impact. Most made contact with Edward and sent him careening into a mass of rocks.

Marshall pounced again. This time, he pulled his hand back. Flames the color of a cerulean sea erupted from his fist with the intent to smolder anything in its path.

Edward rolled out of the way.

Marshall's attack went from a fiery punch to a bright ball shooting toward his opponent like a comet.

Several other wild jabs were added to the assortment of airborne strikes.

Letting out his pent up aggression in such a manner was actually rather therapeutic. No one was getting hurt. Much. The person responsible for blinding hostility was now getting a clear understanding on why he should be careful with what he chooses to say. Marshall was finally given an outlet to release some steam.

He'd forgotten how amazing it felt when using his gift like this.

Pure elation didn't overshadow the ability to remain lucid, however.

Marshall's attacks weren't spastic. Nor were they erratic. Each strike of lightning and ball of fire was thought out. Every maneuver utilizing an impeccable gift was executed with a specific goal in mind.

Still—nothing could've prepared him for Edward's next heinous action.

As expected, multiple fire balls were tossed at once.

Edward jumped out of the way at the last second.

Since he'd been standing on the side where the wolves were, they ended up in direct line of Marshall's fierce attack.

Without thinking, he used his greatest speed to reappear in front of the group. Right as flames were about to make contact, he brought his hands up to face the sky. Doing so caused a wall of fire to rise at his command. An incoming blaze was swallowed by a bright blue inferno.

As soon as it dissipated, Marshall was on the move again.

Edward wasn't prepared to be rendered helpless—but he couldn't do anything when a firm hand wrapped around his throat and lifted him off the ground with ease.

Marshall's eyes turned black.

"That was a cheap shot. And you"—his grip tightened until he could feel cracks forming beneath his fingers—"are well aware of that. What, did you realize you still can't win against me, so you were trying to get me to hurt my pack? Hmph. Edward, Edward, Edward...I think you're gonna have to pay for that little stunt."

Edward sputtered. "What- what're you-"

"You have two options. One, you forfeit, apologize, and learn your fucking place. Or two..."

A slight clench was met with more cracks forming.

"...I kill you. Right here, right now. And believe me, I won't feel a shred of remorse for it."

Golden eyes widened. Awakening fear could be seen within them.

"Clock's ticking, asshole. You better make a decision before I make it for you."

Edward stared at his coven mate, uncertain. 

It was difficult to tell if Marshall was being serious or not.

Clenching of the jaw followed by furrowing eyebrows showed that, yes, he actually was serious.

Because, like Marshall said earlier, Edward knew good and well that his adoptive brother wasn't the type to make empty threats.

His obvious desire to protect the pack only solidified the notion.

If Edward really didn't want to lose his life, he was going to have to set aside his ego and do what was asked.

Embarrassing for him. Rewarding for Marshall.

"...s...ry..."

"What was that? Can't hear you when you're mumbling so low."

"I'm...s...ry..."

"I see you're not taking this earnestly. Maybe some extra pressure on this spot will-"

"I said I'm sorry!" Edward huffed in exasperation. "I forfeit. I'm sorry. You win. Happy?"

Marshall shook his head, sighing.

"You know, you really disappoint me." Edward was thrown into the ground, a tight hand still wrapped around his throat. "And here I thought you'd give me at least a little bit of a challenge."

"You- you're crazy! You could've killed me!"

"Don't get emotional on me now, Eddie. You know my flames and lightning have varying levels of heat. You might've turned out a little crispy, but it would've been fine. Had you said just one more bad thing about the pack, though, well, I wouldn't have been able to guarantee your safety then." Marshall got up. He turned toward the wolves, hands clasped behind his back and his head held high. "Besides, now you finally get the message."

He looked over his shoulder.

Murderous intent was seen clearly in his gaze.

"Now you know that I can, and will, kill you if you ever dare to talk about them like that again. So unless you'd rather I do Victoria's job for her, I suggest you learn to watch what you say. Because I won't be so lenient next time."