Hi, I'm Nina :)
This is my first story on Fanfiction ever, though I've been reading and reviewing religiously for years!
I'm so excited to get this out there to whoever is interested!
Well, the backstory for Beauty and the Beast is pretty simple: I have always loved this story (I was Belle for Halloween for like 5 years in a row!) and I also, of course, love Twilight. I started writing this with characters named Damon and Serena (VPD and GG... not very creative, don't judge!) but everyone kind of took on the personalities and looks of Edward, Bella, Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, Angela, James, etc. so I kind of went with it.
I hope I'm just being humble in saying "this story is going to not be any good" and you disagree!
But just a warning here: I don't have any "beta" yet (still not exactly sure what that is... I'm new here, remember?) so there's probably a ton of mistakes though I am usually pretty good at not letting there be. Also, there will be A LOT of characters to keep up with. Seriously. I know it's easy for me to keep track of, but it might not be for everybody. In this chapter, however, there's only a few (didn't want to overwhelm you on Chapter One!).
Anyways, without further ado (read: I'll shut up now), here is the prologue and first chapter of my Twilight themed Beauty and the Beast!

Chapter 1

Beast & Beauty

Prologue & The Beginning of the Rest of My Life

Prologue

It's cold, everywhere. Almost everywhere. The snow is cuddled up against the many windows of my mansion and it chills the inside to the bone. Crying can be heard from every single room of the house; the place is filled with tears, like ice. The cold heart of my once-brother is no longer beating, the evidence on my hands and clothes. It too, is cold. Everything is cold. Everything except my heart, which is on fire and still beating only for her, only for my love.

Beauty

"Happy birthday, sweet girl." my father whimpers out, his first phrase without an accompanying cough in weeks. His eyes are closed, as if in concentration and his whole body is still, aside from the rough breaths he desperately gasps for that lift his back in inch off the bed. He is so sick, that at this point I know he is stealing from death with every breath, every slow beat of his weak heart. I thank whatever God is watching for keeping him here for one last day, my sixteenth birthday.

"Thank you, Daddy." his hand twitches in both of mine so I squeeze it to let him know that I acknowledge the effort. I lean over from my chair next to his head to kiss his cheek. His skin is too pale, nearly blue, and it's damp and cold. The wet rag on his forehead is dripping onto the pillow around his head, as if it's already mourning my loss.

Our home is quiet, all except for his rough gasps and my sniffles accompanying my silent tears. My father's been bedridden for weeks so he doesn't know I've sold all our even remotely valuable belongings and cleared out the house. The wicked witch of our landlord Velma has been knocking on the door daily, reminding me that I only have a month, a week, three days, one, to move out, so she can rent my childhood home to another family. Try as I might, I couldn't scrounge up enough money selling the last of my things to afford one more payment. My father, however, has been none the wiser, and it comforts me not see him less worried than he could be. I know that he still does worry, though.

"Daddy, I hope you're not scared." I begin a familiar monologue. "You know I'll be alright. I've got money from when I worked at the bookstore last summer"–spent every cent on medicine for him that didn't help anyways–"and my friends have rooms cleared at all their houses"–until I refused to watch participate in their animal cruelty games–"so I've got plenty money, places to stay... I'm going to be alright, Daddy. You really don't have to worry about me at all." I lied straight through. I hope God understands the circumstantial sinning; I'd hate for my father to be in anything but peace when the Lord takes him home.

"I hate to" a crackling cough interrupts his weak reply "leave you alone." He finishes his sentence with a pant, his eyes still closed.

I never had any brothers or sisters. My mother Renee had left when I was just a baby and my father never remarried. It was always just me and my daddy, it's all we've ever needed. We never even dreamed that he would be on his deathbed before I was a parent myself.

"I won't be alone. I have plenty of friends, and Jack too. And I know you'll be watching over me, won't you be? You'll keep me safe. Please," I plead, a steady stream of tears falling down my face, "be in peace."

The birds begin to sing outside and the first few rays of sunlight streak through the murky windows. Beginning of the day, end of my father's life... I try not to dwell on it.

My father's eye flutter open, a soulful brown that mirrors my own. His handsome features are bathed in the sunlight, making him–to my eyes, at least–look healthier than I've seen in months.

His left hand, right still grasped tightly in both of mine, hesitantly ruses up to my face. I press my cheek into his hand and he wipes my tear with his thumb. The strength is remarkable, and I sense that he is using up the last of his stored energy.

He heavily signs and closes his eyes again, dropping his hand back over his concave stomach.

"My kind, precious, beautiful daughter. Don't let the ugly world fool you into blindness from the hidden beauty within. Keep being yourself, my girl, and not a worry will come your way." His lips barely move, but his voice is somehow clear and strong. "I love you, Bella," he pronounces "my sweet, sweet baby girl."

"I love you too, Daddy." I close my eyes and tuck my face into his shoulder. I hear the terrible stammer of a gasp and, with that, his whole body finally relaxes onto the bed.

The birds have stopped chirping. The only sounds now are my powerful sobs echoing on the house's thin walls, now really alone.

I'm not going to be one of those annoying "PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW OR I'LL DIE AND NEVER UPDATE, YOU ARE ALL MY BITCHES!" people, but if you want to tell me what you think, please be my guest! (See what I did there? "Be my guest!")
Thanks for reading :)