#and the storyline of a chosen one that falls to the dark side

[lifblogs]

Star Wars is just Shakespeare in space.

[scoobydoodean]

I just perused your tags about Dean’s narrative heart, and Sam’s motivations, and I’ve been full of thinky thoughts. There’s nothing to really disagree with in your premise, but I am trying to piece that together with something external to the story.

I knew before I watched the first episode that Sam was The Chosen One, but I didn’t really start watching until s12, and had some catching up to do. So I’m trying to wrap my head around making your Chosen One act so… morally grey. It’s a risky move, but I feel like if Kripke’s story had enough to keep us all so fascinated more than a decade after his personal involvement, maybe there’s a deeper reason Sam seems so young.

Maybe that’s just it, though. Whatever we think we know about his childhood, and Dean’s parentification, Sam is only 22. He’s not sheltered, but he is still maturing.I’m showing my creaky bones here, but to me, Sam behaves consistently with his age group. BUT he’s deliberately not presented against a backdrop of college kids, and Dean leaning into the macho party boy in the first few years sort of deflects from that, like sleight of hand.

And so Sam sliding from the Chosen One straight into addictive behaviours does make a strange kind of sense, because there’s part of the wound the addiction is patching up.

I’m sorry for rambling into your inbox, but I’m pretty interested in your thoughts on this.

I think maybe it helps to know that one of Kripke's influences was Star Wars and to consider this through that lens. Dean was partly based on Han Solo, and Sam was partly based on Luke Skywalker. Luke matures over the course of the original Star Wars trilogy, but he had some growing to do between episode IV and episode VI (and the fact that he has matured is something the characters specifically make note of in the jump from "The Empire Strikes Back" to "Return of the Jedi".

I also think it's reasonable to think Kripke decided to take Sam in a sort of hybrid Luke/Anakin direction after he completed the pilot (Star Wars Episode III where Anakin turns to the dark side came out in May of 2005, and Supernatural began airing that Fall). Playing out the Chosen One trope with Sam, in a Star Wars context means that him going grey and then dark is exactly what you want, because that's exactly what happens with Star Wars' Chosen One, Anakin. When we consider that the only people actually calling Sam The Chosen One in Supernatural are demons... well. Sam, the "chosen one", is actually destined to be used by the dark side (demons). He just doesn't know that in season 4 (or doesn't believe it).

In Star Wars, anger and hatred are considered primary tools of The Dark Side. Anger and hatred are big motivating factors for Sam in season 3 (where he really starts to turn morally grey) and 4, and season 5 is in some sense supposed to be about Sam maturing and learning to let go of some of his anger because it's something Lucifer (The Dark Side) can use (5.10, 5.11, 5.20). I'm not a big fan of anger being treated as "the bad emotion", but it is a big deal in Star Wars, and it helps make sense of what it means for Sam to have a chosen one storyline over the first 5 seasons.

Within that whole framework, there's also definitely a lot about growing up and becoming more mature (like Luke Skywalker did) and the tension of whether the protagonist will be consumed—essentially—by the ghost of his father (just like Vader initially tried to lead Luke to the dark side).

There's an intersection somewhere in this ask with "being the main character" I think? But I don't actually consider Sam to be the sole lead of Supernatural. From a story perspective, that simply hasn't ever been true whether Kripke intended it or not (and I don't even think he did. I think Sam functions as the sole lead in the pilot episode just like Hughie functions as the sole lead in the pilot for The Boys as a relatable vehicle for the audience to be introduced to the world. After that, we get Butcher and Homelander and everyone else and realize it's an ensemble show). Beyond the pilot, there is simply nothing that materially or narratively distinguishes Sam as a sole lead beyond Jared's name being first on the call sheet. He doesn't get more screen time than Dean (Dean gets more in almost every season and there are several episodes Sam is barely in), Sam doesn't get more dialogue than Dean, the found family does not center around Sam (it centers around his brother). He isn't even centered as the most competent fighter in action sequences. I don't say that to suggest Sam isn't a lead, but that seasons 1-5 are about Sam and Dean, and both are leads, which means Sam can be morally grey and even unlikeable at times (and so can Dean) as long as the brothers contrast/oppose one another in those circumstances so the audience doesn't become totally alienated. If Sam was actually the sole lead in any material way, they wouldn't have had the space to explore Sam's "dark side" this deeply, I think. At least not without entirely reframing what kind of story Supernatural is/what it's about.

[babyyhoneyyyyy]

⋆.˚✮ 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 ✮˚.⋆ - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: After concluding a public relationship on unfavorable terms, singer Madison Moore decides to sever all ties with her boyfriend. However, a year after their separation, she crosses paths with him again at an awards ceremony, where he makes his entrance accompanied by his new girlfriend – the same one Madison once suspected of cheating on her. Nevertheless, she no longer possesses the same docile and soft personality she used to have and when she realizes her ex is attempting to approach her, she chooses to immerse herself in a casual conversation, coincidentally encountering her primary rival in the music industry, Harry Styles. Word count: +9k Smut: 🔞

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

Diamonds sparkle around my neck, while pearls delicately rest on my ears. A charming set of jewelry has been carefully chosen for the evening, creating a perfect combination with the black dress I selected for the red carpet.

The fabric hugs my figure precisely, displaying a dark yet radiant shade that reflects tiny glints under the light. The standout features are its pronounced V-neck and the leg slit, adding a revealing touch to the ensemble. My hair complements the look with a lace-up that falls down my back, leaving my forehead exposed.

I glance once again at the small clock showing the time through the mirror's reflection. It's nine fifteen, and there are just a few minutes left until the rest of the team arrives, and we all head to tonight's location in the van.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, letting them open again as my reflection appears before me. In another moment, the red lips might have seemed excessive, but tonight they were more than appropriate if I aimed to make an impact. A long-awaited display of recognition, only possible with suggestive clothing and a mischievous look.

I knew these tricks well; I had been using them for a few months and had become almost an expert. However, I couldn't really complain; they provided me with confidence and a sense of control, as only I knew how far to go and how much to reveal.

I hear my nickname being called by my manager, beckoning me from the other side of the door, signaling that the moment has arrived.

I let out a final sigh, giving one last glance at my reflection in the mirror, and with a small affirmative gesture, I make my way to the door. I unlock the latch and move down the hallway.

"How do I look?" I ask once I see my entire team getting ready to leave my apartment. Their gazes immediately shift to my face and gradually descend to my outfit, creating a subtle interplay between my face and figure in a silence that was beginning to feel almost unsettling.

Then, Allyson, my best friend and the person who would also accompany me to the gala, more at my request, approached me, dropping her hands onto my shoulders and holding me lightly while allowing a cheeky gaze to traverse my body once again.

"Incredibly hot," she replied with a side smile. If I didn't know her better, I would even say she was flirting with me.

"You look like a freaking superstar," Sandy, my agent, joined by my side, commented with a radiant smile that I didn't hesitate to reciprocate.

"A very sexy one," added Allyson.

"Seems like she got the memo," I responded to Sandy, throwing a glance at my friend while I simply watched their interaction with amusement.

"Time's running out. People are already asking if you'll show up, Maddy". I hear the voice of one of the technicians, prompting my manager, my best friend, and me to hurry and exit immediately.

I feel a slight tug on my arm, causing me to turn my head back. I observe Sandy, who looks at me with her typical observant and serene expression before any event, always trying to convey the same message to me.

"You're going to fuck everyone tonight". A smile escapes me due to her choice of words, as I playfully nod, and she takes my arm, finally allowing us to exit the apartment.

The noise of the city intensified as we navigated its streets. The neon signs became more prominent, and some cars honked their horns. Although I would have enjoyed observing the characteristic brightness of Hollywood, the driver's announcement that we had arrived only made my heart beat faster. The once bustling atmosphere provided by the streets was now fueled by fans waiting outside the venue.

The van's polarized windows prevented them from seeing me from the inside, but somehow, magically, some people had already started chanting my name. A smile spread across my face, feeling more confident as we headed towards the location predetermined by the team. I observed the various faces approaching the van, trying unsuccessfully to see beyond, but still shouting random names until they landed on the right one.

I checked my small bag, pulled out my mirror, and refreshed my lips with the lipstick I had specifically chosen for tonight. I took a deep breath a couple of times, practicing a breathing technique I had been taught since my early days in the industry, trying to focus on all the positive things that had happened up to that point. I was about to participate in one of the highlights of my career, not just as a guest but practically as the potential winner and the main star of the night. I was at the top, and no one could stop me.

My nod was enough for the back door to open, allowing my heel to finally touch the red carpet. The noise intensified, ringing loudly in my ears as the choruses of my name created a buzz around me. Camera flashes accompanied my descent as I tilted my head slightly to mark my steps on the pavement.

I stood in the center of the carpet, striking various poses for the photographers, keeping my face with a serene expression, and, on some occasions, with a smile. I began to move away as the pleading shouts for me to stay faded away. Allyson gently took my arm, occasionally smiling at the paparazzi still trying to get our attention as we entered the venue, followed by my team.

As we made our way through the backstage hallways, I could hear the voices of the presenters. I watched different technicians move around us, greeting me as they recognized me. Some even asked me to take a photo, a request to which I gladly agreed.

My heels lost prominence as we approached, overshadowed by the buzz of the show taking place in the main hall.

"Maddy," I hear Sandy's voice behind me, taking a moment to address me while she seems to be immersed in a phone conversation. "You should start getting ready," she informs me.

"Of course" I reply, making her nod before she returns to her phone call. I glance at my best friend, who has let go of my arm and looks at me with a pout. We both knew that her seat was reserved at the assigned table inside the hall, and I had to head to the dressing rooms to change.

"At least you'll wait for me next to Shawn Mendes" I mention, giving her a playful nudge as she regains a smile.

"You're absolutely right," she replies. A smile lights up her face, and before I can leave, she takes my hand, drawing my attention again. Ally is not known for being an especially emotional person; in fact, I used to surpass her in that aspect. However, lately, her emotions have started to emerge, which is saying a lot considering I've known her for more than half of my life. The expression she wears right now is more than enough to make my heart swell. A tenderness that adds sweetness to our friendship and makes me feel grateful for it every day.

"You're going to do wonderfully, although you already know it," she says, gently squeezing my hand. I feel the excitement rise through my body, finally manifesting in the growing moisture in my eyes. I blink a bit as I look up, preventing the tears from actually coming out. "I love you, Maddy. Good luck".

Oh, dear, I hate getting so emotional to the point of crying in these situations.

Unable to contain myself, I move closer to her, releasing our hand grip and enveloping her in an affectionate hug. Finally, I pull away and nod.

"I love you too, thank you". I reply, finally letting her go to continue her way into the hall, where the noise returns once the door leading directly to the entrance opens.

Again, the sound of my heels echoed on the floor, this time as I headed towards the path that led to the dressing rooms. As I advanced, some technicians greeted me until I reached the door with a star bearing my name. Under my hand on the lock, turning the knob as the dressing room materialized in front of me.

Immediately, I was enveloped by the scent of vanilla. Warm lights illuminated the room, matching the furniture in beige tones, including a sofa, a dressing table, and a small table with dried fruits, fresh ones, and bottles of water.

However, my attention focused on the rack beside the furniture. I approached and took off the cover that was suspended on a hook. I placed it on the chair, spreading it out as I unzipped the garment bag, finally revealing the outfit I would wear that night.

My performance would be marked by a yellow ensemble that had been tailored for me some time ago. It consisted of a ruffled top and a matching skirt, providing additional volume to my figure. Although it exposed my abdomen, allowing me the flexibility to dance and move freely on stage thanks to the small shorts I wore under the skirt.

It was a beautiful and practical outfit. It had been in my closet for a long time, and this was the perfect occasion to wear it.

I placed my belongings on the dressing table and secured the dressing room door for more privacy. Dressing was straightforward; however, removing the dress presented some difficulty. Nevertheless, I finally managed to replace it on the dress stand and hang it on the rack.

I turned towards the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, allowing my image to be seen from head to toe, highlighting the combination of yellow that enhances my skin tone and subtly adds volume.

I heard a tapping on the door, and I approached to open it, allowing Sandy's figure to enter the dressing room. I didn't stand up to show her my outfit, as she had witnessed the tailoring process from the beginning. Instead, I sit at the vanity and pull out the makeup I had brought for touch-ups, quickly changing the shade of my lipstick so I can blend in with my outfit and also to mattify my face with powder.

I felt calm until that moment, mentally reviewing the choreographies I would perform. However, when my nickname came out of my manager's lips, I immediately looked at her. I knew Sandy long enough, from my beginnings in this industry, and I could already discern precisely when something was not right.

"What happened?" I immediately ask, although silence persists from Sandy's side. She has chosen to sit on the couch, watching me through the mirror. "Sandy, tell me now, you're making me nervous". I say.

I see a sigh escape her lips as she nods towards me and says, "It's about your performance".

My breathing starts to become uneven as infinite possibilities take shape before me. I remain calmly silent for a moment until I decide to respond.

"Okay..." I affirm, maintaining composure regarding the situation, and wait to get more details. "What happened with that?"

"They said we have to cut it down," she replies at the same time my confusion arises. This time, Sandy doesn't wait for me to ask additional questions and proceeds to explain, "Now, you'll only have time for one song, then you'll have to leave the stage to make way for the next artist".

My eyes narrow in her direction, I turn my back to her, and lean on the back of my seat at the dressing table.

What exactly did she mean by that?

"Next artist?" I ask still confused. "I thought I was the main performance".

"That's right," she replies. "But, apparently, there was a sudden change of plans because they need to add someone else in that slot".

I continue to watch her attentively, examining each of her gestures. She clearly seems nervous, but I feel like she's hiding something more.

"Who?" I venture to ask. The question is enough for Sandy to shake her head repeatedly and get up from her seat on the couch. I watch as she starts pacing around the dressing room, holding her phone and typing at the same time. I call her again, but her response is limited to giving me a look and remaining silent. "Sandy, I was promised a full performance. I've practiced for months to occupy an entire slot, not to be limited to just a few minutes. At the very least, I deserve to know who it is".

Sandy's eyebrows furrow, showing an internal struggle to reveal the truth. Finally, after a sigh that reflects her unease, she utters the name of the responsible party: "It's Harry Styles".

Of all people in this damn industry.

I sigh with frustration and look at myself again in the dressing room mirror. The light illuminates the space, covering my entire face and clearly reflecting my furrowed brow and a pout beginning to form on my lips.

What was originally going to be a complete performance of about ten minutes will now be reduced to only four, with just enough time to present my latest single.

I was upset, or rather, furious. I had dedicated months of effort and rehearsals to this, preparing to occupy an entire slot where I would not only present one but two songs, each with its own set design and choreography. And now, all that work was going to be wasted by having to involuntarily share the spotlight with someone else.

And worst of all, that someone else turned out to be him.

Harry embodied all the negative aspects of my career, being my number one rival since my position began to rise rapidly. There was a time when I considered that his growing popularity along with mine could be seen as a positive boost for my career, but it turned out to be the opposite when I realized he saw it as competition.

At one point, he snatched a venue where I was supposed to give a show. I tried to communicate with his team at that time and eventually with him, thinking it was a mistake. However, when I received a small note on my phone with a headline showing him laughing at the situation and even making sarcastic references to my loss in the middle of his own show, I decided that things needed to change in that regard. 

I could tolerate many things, but I wouldn't allow him and his actions to leave my fans and me hanging.

"I'm really sorry, Maddy. I did my best, but they insisted on sharing the space". I hear Sandy's words, feeling her closer and visualizing her behind me, leaning on the chair that still supports my body.

I nod finally, aware that the issue was not in her hands to resolve, as it transcended our team.

I hear three knocks on the door, announcing that it was time to go. I check myself once again, making sure my makeup is still intact, and rise from my seat, also adjusting my skirt.

"Fuck them all. Let's go".

I hear Sandy's laughter beside me, leading the way as the dressing room door opens, allowing me to re-enter the bright light of the hallways. Most of my team is waiting for me. I greet the dancers who will accompany me with a smile and join them as applause fills the space. My team makes the moment more lively, allowing us to perform a small ritual that has become a tradition for us before each performance. We join our hands and raise them with cheers of excitement.

This is how I finally position myself behind the stage, gaining confidence as I turn my back to the audience. With my right hand, I hold the microphone and squeeze it tightly at least three times, inhaling air as I adjust my breathing.

Until I see the stage light up with blue lights, I close my eyes and let the music fill my ears, a chorus of screams chanting my name initiating my performance.

The performance unfolds exceptionally. The dancers beside me don't hesitate to execute strength in their steps, and I, in turn, accompany them beyond necessity. I put into practice all the breathing exercises, holding the high notes perfectly. All the effort is reflected in the applause and screams around me when the music stops and the lights intensify the drama.

I stayed on stage for an additional time, under everyone's gaze, waiting for the team's signal to descend from the platform. I raise my hand and give a small wave to everyone, receiving warm smiles, many of them from faces familiar to me in the industry.

The cue comes through my in-ear monitors, and with the dim lighting present, I descend from the stage at the back.

My team welcomes me with hugs and some applause as we return to the backstage. However, I sense the music resurfacing once again with a sound of trumpets that extends throughout the environment, triggering my inevitable curiosity.

I turn slightly backward, watching the bright light flooding the stage again in a warm tone, this time accompanied by a tall man who exhibits a unique presence that I have had the chance to witness on a few occasions, and he wears a suit that fits perfectly to his body, made of a fabric that seems to be leather.

I make a small grimace as I see him confidently traverse the stage, as if I had never appeared in this one, looking at the people as his own and quickly winning them over with his movements. The audience erupts in cheers when he drops what appears to be a green feather boa, revealing his bare torso, covered only by his leather jacket.

Not wanting to see any more, I turn around and head back to my dressing room, ready to change my clothes and head this time to the new place where the after party would take place.

I opted for a dress in a celestial shade and also fitted to my body, although the fabrics of this one had a subtle dewy effect that I loved.

As I enter the new lounge, I am greeted by upbeat music from a DJ and the dark lights in shades of red and blue become familiar with my dress. I sense greetings from a few industry acquaintances before finally finding my best friend in the crowd. Near a table at the bar, Ally was actively engaged in a conversation with the guy we once talked about, and then I began to doubt whether I should interrupt.

My lips concealed to prevent my smile from being too evident as I approached, but my gaze shifted, and immediately, I regretted it when I felt my steps instinctively stop.

A few feet away, I spotted Joe with his distinctive brown hair, recognizable to me. However, that wasn't all; next to him, a young blonde placed her hand on his shoulder, carelessly approaching his face while smiling at him.

At that moment, I couldn't pinpoint exactly the feeling I was experiencing, except for the paralysis of my heart that prompted me to continue watching their interaction. I mean, it wasn't common to meet my worst ex again, let alone witness his audacity in introducing the woman I discovered was his lover for much of our relationship.

I felt like I could vomit at any moment, and everything seemed to get worse when I sensed that Joe's gaze shifted from the girl beside him to me.

I felt the world crumbling around me, forcing me to blink and look away, although it was already too late when, from the corner of my eye, I saw his figure starting to approach.

Although Ally was still immersed in her conversation with Shawn, I no longer cared about interrupting them. But they were both far enough away that trying to get there in a hurry would be a hopeless endeavor.

So my only option was to turn around and head back to the dressing rooms, which ended only in colliding with another body in the attempt.

"Have you gotten lost all the way to your table now?" I hear Harry's characteristic husky voice, revealing his presence in front of me with a completely revamped outfit, still in dark tones, wearing a suit that seemed to be crafted from a wool-like fabric, though I couldn't pinpoint it due to the dim lighting. What was completely visible was his torso, now covered by a bividi.

A sigh escapes me. This was the last thing I needed.

"I forgot something in my dressing room," I reply.

"Still your dressing room?" he asks mockingly, causing a furrow in my eyebrows. "I thought once your performance was over, your name simply vanished from that door".

"I don't know, what do you think?" I respond sarcastically, hearing his laughter, knowing he expected me to reply with the same tone. "Did your name already vanish?"

"What do you think?" he replies. I roll my eyes, confident that no one would really see my expression due to the lively atmosphere around us. However, I decide to remain subtly cautious and maintain a falsely enthusiastic expression before smiling at him.

"I don't have time for this, Harry. Excuse me". I mutter under my breath, looking down, instantly erasing my smile, and waiting for his body to give me the pass.

Instead, Harry chooses to inquire, "Are you sure?" leaving me again with an inevitable furrowed brow as I realize he's not moving. "Because I see your ex-boyfriend over there with an attractive blonde a few meters from us," he states. Once again, I feel my heart freeze, and a dry cough resonates in my throat. Uncomfortable, I avert my gaze carefully, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes, until the husky voice manifests once again, but this time a bit closer. "And, in case you've forgotten, the dressing rooms are in the opposite direction".

Damn.

"Of course, I remember," I immediately respond, turning my head to address him directly, allowing him to step back a bit as he notices our proximity due to my movement, though I, for my part, don't even react. "I was going to the bathroom first, and then to my dressing room, that's what I meant".

"Sure". he murmurs with another smile. He doesn't hesitate to express his intention to tease me in front of me. His audacity has persisted since I've known him, and the incendiary reaction every time we cross paths only intensifies over time, becoming increasingly unbearable.

I felt a sense of suffocation every time I encountered him. I often watched him from a distance, displaying evident kindness to the public, being friendly, joking, and laughing, letting his dimples adorn his face. Despite all the charming image he projected around him, my perspective on him remained unchanged.

Every close encounter with Harry carried the accumulated tension throughout our career. The thirst for competition lingered silently as we exchanged glances at various events, and at times, even shared cheeky smiles that revealed our triumph when one of us won in our confrontations.

And, on this occasion, that's precisely what he was taking care of.

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" he suddenly asks, causing surprise and confusion on my face. I wait a few seconds before he continues, "As a way to congratulate you on your performance".

And there it was. It wasn't a friendly invitation but a celebration of his own triumph.

I feel discomfort rise on my cheeks, turning them reddish and experiencing the spreading warmth in me.

"Do you mean the performance you were about to steal from me?" I respond inquisitively.

"Did I?" he asks, feigning confusion in his words as his eyebrows tilt in sarcasm and his green eyes narrow.

I take the opportunity to get a bit closer to him, leaving us almost at the same distance as he once chose to move away. However, this time, he chooses to remain motionless in his place, making our height difference more evident, though my response is equally close.

"I know perfectly well that all of that was your fault," I murmur, making sure my words stay between us two. His eyebrows slightly arch as he continues to look at me, and I interpret it as a sign to continue, "It was a solo performance, and obviously, you couldn't stand not being the center of attention tonight".

Harry chooses to remain silent, studying my face carefully. I interpret his silence as confirmation, perhaps even something he was ashamed to admit aloud, and rightfully so, because that was what I really expected.

"You seem pretty sure," he finally responds, dropping his head to one side. "Let me discuss it with liquor on me".

"No way". I immediately deny.

"Your ex is still chasing you," he murmurs once again close to me.

I lower my gaze and inhale deeply.

There was no alternative. Either I faced Harry's words, or I faced Joe. One seemed to be worse than the other, although I couldn't decide which was which; but my instinct only urged me to go along with his proposition, and that's exactly what I did.

"Just one," I reply, reaching a conclusion. "No more".

Immediately, a dimple forms on his face, and an almost malicious look accompanies it. Whether I regretted it or not, I had already accepted, and he wouldn't allow me to truly retract.

Finally, this seemed to be my destiny for the night.

"Of course".

Harry turns, indicating for me to follow as the music around us increases as we approach the bar table. Lights flash in a variety of colors, now immersed in a dark violet tone. I grip my small purse firmly as bumps affect my body due to the dancing crowd, possibly drunk, without realizing or anticipating the space they occupy.

I don't pay much attention as I return my gaze forward, realizing that the bar atmosphere is left behind as we move forward.

I furrow my brow and try to match my pace with Harry's, striving to find an explanation. However, he keeps moving with determination and doesn't even turn around, knowing I'm still following him.

I identify the nearest exit door and decide to stop him at that moment. I pull his arm and hold it close to me, causing his pace to halt, and he finally turns to look at me.

"Where are we heading?" I inquire.

"I'll buy you a drink," he simply responds with a shrug, implying that the answer should be obvious.

"But I thought—" my words are interrupted by a sidelong gesture from him as he answers: "Those there aren't good".

My eyes narrow in suspicion. "Did you even try them?" I ask.

"I heard some comments," he says, shrugging his shoulders again.

Harry doesn't wait for me to say more and takes advantage of the grip I still have on his arm to grab my wrist, pulling my body slightly to keep walking.

The door of the lounge is opened by the security personnel guarding it, and the night breeze intensifies around me, leaving the noise of the music behind.

Once the doors close, I can appreciate the difference between the white lights coming from one of the main parking lots of the venue and the various luxury cars parked all over the place. Harry leads us to one of them, specifically a Range Rover that is slightly separated from the other cars. His hand releases my wrist and goes in the opposite direction of the car, letting me pass alone to the other side. I stay there for a few seconds, watching his interaction with the driver until he returns to my side, opens the back door, and lets me go first. I express a "thank you" in response and get into the car.

The journey turned uncomfortably silent, allowing me to settle at one end of the fine leather seat as I watched the city streets materialize around us through the polarized windows. My grip on my bag occasionally intensified, fidgeting with my fingers in an attempt to calm my nervousness.

The moment inside the lounge replayed in my mind, with Joe's brown eyes fixed on me, probably witnessing my exit with Harry. However, all the concern faded, carried away by the same tide to which I was willingly submitting. It's at that moment I hear my companion's voice, alerting me that we have arrived.

Harry steps out of the car first, unexpectedly assuming the role of a chauffeur as he opens the door and takes my hand while helping me descend. I feel his warm touch, contrasting with the multiple rings adorning his fingers. A chill runs down my spine, accentuated by the surrounding breeze.

The environment seems colder than usual, permeated by the salty aroma, and the presence of several yachts parked around the area makes it even more apparent. I furrow my brow, directing my gaze to the man beside me, who seems immune to my gesture and keeps his eyes straight ahead.

What the hell am I doing here?

"Where are we?" I inquire. More out of the need to know, I do it with the desire to get a genuine explanation from him.

It's only then that Harry turns his gaze back to me, revealing a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"I thought it was obvious by the yachts around us," he replies. At that moment, his figure starts to move, and I realize the car has withdrawn. The cool breeze surrounds us as I shift my attention to the majestic yachts practically next to me. One more luxurious than the other, with a shiny appearance, but this only serves to increase my confusion.

"I mean," I begin to say as I follow him down the wooden path, causing my heels to resonate more loudly. "I know where we are, but why are we here?"

Harry instinctively turns, throwing me a brief look before responding, "Because I owe you a drink". My gaze intensely connects with his, and I notice one of his dimples forming again due to his smirk. "What?"

"This is not a bar," I reply, pointing out the obvious at that moment. Our steps are the only response I continue to receive until, after what seems like a few minutes of walking, we stop in front of a particular yacht.

It was almost as extensive as the others, presenting itself with at least three sections from this perspective, equally white and gleaming, illuminated from the outside and showing only a glimpse of its interior. However, this one stood out even more among all, displaying the initials "HS" on the front, which leads me to connect the dots and take a closer look at the owner that I now recognize.

"What better than having a drink in the middle of the ocean, don't you think?"

For some reason, I choose silence as a response and wait for Harry, once again, to help me climb the stairs leading inside the yacht.

Inside, the opulence becomes even more evident. The bow presents itself as an illuminated catwalk, even equipped with spacious sofas for comfort. The interior looks almost like a small apartment, also furnished, with a table and chairs for any meal one might want to enjoy. A carpet covers the entire floor, softening the sound of my heels, while some ornaments decorate the space, highlighting the golden details around.

"Make yourself at home," I suddenly hear Harry say from behind, taking me by surprise. I turn my head instantly, slightly bumping into his face, as I see him enter the space. Finally, I notice that in the background, behind a partition, there is a wide stool that seems to be part of the kitchen and, in turn, the bar with a variety of drinks on display welcomes my presence. Harry's body is disappearing into that area, blending in and leaving me alone at the entrance.

A sigh escapes my lips as I sink into the spacious sofa. I check my bag, opening it to take out my phone and heading straight to Ally's contact. The call doesn't ring until the third tone, by which time I already hear the music hitting my speakers, forcing me to move the phone slightly away from my ear.

"Maddy?" I finally hear my friend say. "Where the hell are you?"

"I'm fine, calm down," I reply. "I came with a— Um," at that moment, I didn't know what to say. I had called to assure her that I was okay, but I hadn't considered the most obvious: what would I tell her if she asked what I was doing? I couldn't just spill the situation, as that would prolong the conversation, and the last thing I wanted was for Harry to hear all the details as if it were a gossip show. I quickly think of a response before Ally starts to suspect. "With a friend I met backstage, and we came for a drink at a... small nearby bar so no one can make assumptions," I conclude. I bite my lower lip as I hear Ally's response materialize on the other side of the line.

"Do I know that friend?"

"Uh," I hesitate for a moment before responding, genuinely trying to stop lying altogether. So I say, "Yes, probably". But before she can ask more questions, I interrupt her. "I'll tell you later".

"That's fine," she replies. I hear the music around her slightly fading, suggesting that she's stepping aside to get more privacy. "But is he at least hot?" she asks. And I have no idea what to answer.

I swallow as I look back into the yacht, watching Harry's broad back and curls from a distance. Even meters away, he appears unperturbed, and curiosity fills my instincts again. I hide my lips and look straight ahead.

"A bit," I reply.

"Alright," she responds. "Let me know if you need me to pick you up or something, I'm here for you".

"I know, there's no need to worry," I reply. "Are you going back with Robert?" I ask, knowing that now only my driver remains to ensure she gets to her own apartment safely.

"Well..." I hear a small laugh from her, and my eyebrows raise as I wait for her response. "I think I'm heading somewhere else too".

"Oh..." A shared laughter joins the conversation. "Okay... I understand," I nod through the call. "I'll wait for the details".

"I'll be waiting for yours too. Goodbye," I hear her slightly dragging the words, so I simply respond with a goodbye and hang up.

It seems I wasn't the only one who had an unexpected encounter.

A few minutes passed as I dedicated myself to look around, putting my phone back in my bag. At that moment, I hear the partition opening, with a subtle but attention-catching sound making my head turn in its direction.

Then, I see Harry holding two glasses in his hands, bringing one towards me and keeping the other.

The  liquor has a hue similar to pink, sharpening my curiosity as I bring it to my lips. The sip results in a bittersweet taste, immediately recognizing the mix of vodka and strawberry.

"It's really good, thank you," I comment as I continue to feel the subtle sweetness on my lips. I sense the sofa slightly sinking under the weight of someone else a few meters away, as if they were trying to maintain a distance. Harry leaves his drink on the table in front of us, watching me as I continue to drink.

It truly was delicious, but I no longer knew what else to say besides continuing to sip. So, I decided that the moment might be more bearable if I introduced some alcohol into my system. That would be the only way to stop thinking about the look Harry was giving me at that moment.

"Now we can address what you mentioned in that room," I hear his rough voice through my ears, awakening any instinct as I pay attention. "You seemed very confident in stating that I tried to steal your presentation".

"Wasn't that the case?" I inquire in response, finally placing my glass with the drink less than halfway on the table, right next to his. "It doesn't make sense for you to deny it. And neither do I have any point in remembering it". I tell him. A silence hangs between us, leaving his response in the void as an idea forms in my mind. At this point, the liquor has started to take effect, and although I'm not seeing blurry nor unconscious by any means, my filter disappears. And I really have no objections to that, as it is exactly what I wanted.

"I propose something," I start, capturing his attention with a steady gaze into his green eyes, which seem filled with curiosity, not really anticipating what I'm about to say. "For tonight, I'll leave all that behind, and you won't mention it with the intention of annoying me."

"Do I do it to annoying you?" he asks, laughing, one that highlights his dimples again as he shakes his head expressively and approaches the table to reach for his glass.

"You really have difficulty recognizing what you do, don't you?" I inquire, tilting my head to the right.

"That's all you assume," he responds.

"All you don't admit," I retort.

"Now you're calling me a liar," he comments after taking another sip of his drink. His words are laced with more sarcasm than usual, and his cheeky smile becomes more evident. "After you've had a drink, that's a bit disrespectful".

"Tell me a truth," I suddenly say, catching him completely off guard for a moment. His eyes meet mine directly, squinting slightly and raising his chin a bit. I watch as his tongue passes over his lips, moistening them and giving them a natural shine, before he answers: "I watched your performance".

"Now, a lie,"

A smirk begins to form on him, and then he replies, "I watched your performance".

Unexpectedly, a smile of my own appears on my face.

"I think it's your turn now," he tells me. I nod my head and inhale a bit of air before settling into my seat, allowing my dress to rise slightly and reveal more of my thigh. I don't bother to fix it, noticing Harry's gaze descending before realizing that I'm watching him.

And then another idea crosses my mind.

"Let's make this more interesting," I propose. "The loser will take off an item of clothing".

Harry's eyebrows raise in surprise, but quickly lower, leaving his expression showing only curiosity.

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"Of course," I reply without hesitation, reaffirming my confidence.

Harry responds with a small sigh, settling into the sofa, letting his body sink a bit more into it. He adopts a pose by resting his arm on the backrest and slightly opening his legs for comfort. In the whole process, I can't help but observe him.

"I didn't know that bold side of you, Maddy," he suddenly mentions my nickname, leaving me with a slight frown, wondering how he knew. "Who would've thought".

"On the contrary, I feel like I know a lot about you," I reply in a lower tone.

"Oh, really?" he asks, matching my tone. A playful smile forms on my face as I nod.

"Yes," I start, leaning slightly closer to him. My knees press into the sofa, and my hands sink into it as I slowly approach his body in a crawling position. I focus solely on following Harry's eyes, which darken, taking on the same tone as the night that envelops us, abandoning the green they briefly exhibited. I stop at the level of his knees, not directly colliding with them, and then I also rest my arm on the back of the sofa.

"You're narcissistic," I murmur, allowing silence to settle between us as my words hang in the air. "You enjoy being the center of attention, and when someone doesn't give it to you, you seek it at all costs," I continue. "That's why you brought me here. You can't stand that I won't surrender to you for real".

Silence settles between us again, but this time I feel the atmosphere becoming denser. Despite the breeze, I experience how heat floods my body, reddening my cheeks and forcing the opening of my lips to facilitate the circulation of oxygen. As for Harry, watching each of my movements with his eyes, which still retain their dark color, observing me with precision.

His lips receive another moistening from his tongue before he responds: "Aren't you already doing it?" he asks, his voice deeper than usual.

"You lost," I retort. A look of fake disappointment forms on my face, followed by a smile that I can't hide. "You know what that means".

Harry doesn't say anything for a few more seconds, until I finally notice one of his dimples returning on his cheek as he lowers his gaze. And with a final nod, he replies, "If you insist".

The minutes keep ticking away, and the atmosphere becomes hotter as Harry's clothes disappear. I always trusted my statements, no matter the question, and thanks to my certainty in words, Harry accepted his defeat in most of the rounds.

However, things took a turn; my glass was already empty, and my embarrassment vanished with it. This time, I was more than obvious, allowing the only garment that played against me, my dress, to disappear from my body when I admitted defeat, leaving me in lingerie. Harry simply watches the moment as I stand up from the sofa to make it easier to remove my dress. My lace set is black, with small flowers adorning the edges.

I leave the dress on the sofa and approach to return to my place, but Harry's hand lands on my wrist, stopping me as I look at him.

My breathing starts to become irregular, accentuated by his touch that intensifies it. I watch as Harry rises from his seat, standing in front of me, highlighting once again our height difference, but closing the gap nonetheless. His cool chest impacts against mine, brushing against me in a contact I eagerly await. I feel anxious to experience more, and Harry seems to sense it, patiently waiting to take my neck with his palm, sliding his right thumb over my lips. In an instant, I part them slightly, allowing the gentle touch of his fingertip to meet my mouth and eventually take its place inside.

My lips wrap around his finger, caressing it with my tongue as a circular motion saturates it with saliva, all of this under Harry's watchful gaze from above.

And at that moment, when I feel I can no longer bear the pressure and try to move away to take the next step, Harry tightens his grip on my neck, placing his entire palm around it, leaving me immobile for a moment and allowing my breath to come out with slight difficulty through my mouth. I can feel my heart beating harder, and at this point, I have no doubts that he can hear it too. His palm raises my neck, placing his face inches from mine. My gaze lowers and rises in an expectant rhythm, watching his lips and returning to his eyes, a rhythm that keeps me restless, asking for more, craving more, and only calming when his face takes on the expression I desire. His gaze, changing in the darkness of the night, follows me, and my agony comes to an end when his lips meet mine.

A passionate, desperate, thirsty kiss fills me, complementing my body and intensifying my sensations. My hands become explorers, and he satisfies them as I touch his body, tracing his face, reaching his hair, pressing him more against me, if only it were possible.

Harry, for his part, releases his hold on my neck and descends down my body just as unrestrained, exploring every corner of my body with his touch. He moves across my back with intensity, brushing with delicacy and eliciting a moan from me during our kiss. His rings are still cold, becoming more evident as he descends, exerting pressure on my skin and possibly leaving marks due to their firmness. Although I wouldn't admit it out loud, I wished it to be so, especially on my buttocks, where his pinkie and ring fingers, adorned with his significant initial rings, exerted pressure.

The kiss becomes careless, causing us to separate slightly in search of air. Harry takes advantage of this to grab my hips, and in an unexpected move for me, he turns me, allowing my body to fall and press me forcefully against the table in front of us.

My face and palms are pressed against the glass, adjusting to the space, although I have no complaints about it. My senses intensify, perceiving Harry's body behind me with strength, and even more noticeably, his erection protruding from his boxers, pressing firmly against me.

My eyes begin to close, surrendering to the sensation even when my underwear remains a barrier between us. However, as seconds pass, desperation takes over me again; the dripping of my fluids only increases, and my hips begin to move as a signal. But Harry takes care of putting an end to it, pressing my hips once again and, this time, letting his palm strike forcefully on my buttock.

I can't contain a scream that escapes from me, while my hands desperately search for something to hold onto. I realize that the smoothness of the glass plays against me, and I can only try to hold on firmly to the table.

I feel the tingling on my skin, probably already reddened, but it is soothed by Harry's palm, which moves gently around, in a dangerous massage that approaches and moves away from the area that needs it the most. His fingers intertwine with my underwear, slightly raising the fabric and allowing the breeze from the surroundings to reach that part. Another moan escapes from my lips, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

"It looks so good on you," I hear his voice near my ear as he continues exploring the fabric, causing a shiver to run down my spine. "It's a shame that it's getting in the way right now".

It's at that moment when I hear the fabric's crunch, and my eyes open immediately. Harry doesn't give me time to react as I feel his erection finally pressing against me. Touching me, but this time without restrictions, he maintains an ascending and descending rhythm while moistening it with my own fluids. The sensation is pleasurable, so much so that my lips part more, and sounds of satisfaction resonate throughout the bow.

My mind focuses exclusively on the sensation, paying attention to every movement, and I join in with my hips. Harry keeps his firm grip on them until, at one point, I feel him distant. I don't perceive his touch with mine, and a pout forms instantly on my lips. I turn slightly towards him and see that he has a condom package in his hands, already starting to open it.

My pout becomes more evident, emitting a sound that draws his attention back to my face. I know it's the right thing to do, and yet surprisingly I find myself feeling disappointed by this when I should be grateful; but considering that I am free from any disease, perhaps I expect the same from him.

Harry watches me for a few seconds before lowering the condom, half-open, and looking at me attentively.

"I have no doubt that you're safe, but are you taking care of yourself?" he asks. My heart starts to beat rapidly as I nod immediately.

"Should I doubt that you're safe too?" I inquire in response, just to be reasonably sure.

"I can show you my certificate another day if you wish," he says, showing a serious expression that indicates his proposition is genuine. A smile escapes from me.

"Do you come with a pedigree?" I jokingly ask. Then his gaze changes once again, observing me with darkened eyes.

And I feel Harry's response materialize in a smack that elicits a moan of pain and pleasure from me.

"Damn," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Very funny," he replies in turn.

The moment is brief, with his anger disappearing or maybe intensifying when the first penetration takes place.

A moan escapes from me, intensifying as the thrusts become more frequent. Harry shows no mercy, much less moderates his strokes. He grips my hip with one hand while the other presses into my lower back, pushing me harder against the table with each thrust and leaving me adrift with each impact.

"Fuck, Maddy," his simple voice, mentioning my nickname again, provokes a sigh that escapes my lips, being carried away by his movement. "You feel so good".

My eyes struggle to stay open, wishing to truly absorb the moment in all my senses but becoming increasingly difficult as the intensity builds.

The upper part of my underwear still rested on me, but now the fabric becomes uncomfortable as my body craves the slightest freshness to contrast with the moment. Apparently, I wasn't the only one seeking it, as Harry, as if reading my thoughts, shifts the hand that was on my back to my bra, and in a swift motion, unclasps it, freeing my body.

I feel his torso press against my now exposed back, lifting me slightly and allowing his hand to fit perfectly on my bare chest. I bite my lower lip once again with such force that it anticipates the possibility of blood in my taste.

Harry's caress feels soft on my skin, creating an absolute contrast with his movements inside me. Occasionally, his roughness manifests fully when he lightly squeezes my nipples, making the sounds coming out of my mouth more pronounced as he advances.

"Do you want to tease me again?" his voice emerges as I drop the question and focus on the sensation. "Come on, pretty girl, talk to me," he insists once more, trying to provoke a response. I bite my lip, holding back a smile, aware that I am getting into a small dangerous game at that moment.

Harry's grip intensifies, pressing against my skin, probably realizing the dynamic that was unfolding.

"Or do you prefer me to call you a slut?" the simple suggestion makes my back arch, revealing my immediate response, and I hear a husky laugh from his part. "Is that what you are? A little slut who enjoys my cock filling you?" another moan from me manifests in the space, representing my own thoughts.

"Does it feel good, huh?" Too good, I wanted to respond, but once again, I chose to hide my lips between my teeth. Then, I feel my hair being pulled sharply, lifting my body from the table and leaving me in an arched position. My buttocks rise, and the sound of the collision of our skins becomes more evident.

"I bet that idiot you had as an ex didn't even get close to this," I hear him say, and actually, far from worrying about the mention of my ex, the unspoken response to his statement is more than evident in my body.

Harry personified desire in its purest form, and the longing for more became evident in each of our encounters. I hadn't realized this until this moment when I felt him hitting inside me, holding me firmly, talking dirty to me. This was all I needed.

I hear Harry's breath in my ear, intense enough to reverberate in my senses and take me to experience a deeper level than I thought I could reach in my whole body. The adrenaline keeps rising in me, reflected by the thin layer of sweat on my skin, completely undoing the smoothing I once had.

My hands, full of desperation, try to move backward in an attempt for contact. However, Harry's firm grip on me makes this almost impossible; daring to move on my own would mean losing balance completely.

I have no sense of how much time has passed, with the only sound being the echo of my moans mixed with his in the space, when I feel everything come to a complete stop. I turn my head towards him, seeking his gaze and finding it with an amused expression that he doesn't even try to hide.

"Keep going," I demand in a whimper, but Harry ignores my words, still watching me and still inside me. "Damn it, Harry, continue," I express this time with annoyance. For his part, Harry tilts his head to the side, looking at me expectantly.

"Not even a please?" he asks.

A sigh escapes from me. I don't hesitate to do it. Honestly, at this moment, anything was valid for me; I just wanted to feel him again.

"Please, please," I murmur to him. The plea makes his eyes darken once again more than usual, and his gaze reflects the quickness of the change in his expression. "Continue, please".

I don't even finish speaking when Harry pushes his cock once again into me, with a speed that equals or surpasses the previous one. My grip tightens on the table, holding on with strength and trying to endure as much as I could.

"Tell me a truth, Maddy," I hear him say in my ear. "Tell me how you feel. Tell me you need this as much as I do". His words express an assertion, being confident as always, and if I had been fully conscious, I would have laughed just to tease him. However, now I felt like I was levitating and was willing to follow every order he gave me just to keep feeling him.

It was surprising to admit that his effect really caused this, the nullification of my own reason, yielding to his, and letting myself be carried away by the waves of the same ocean we were in. That was Harry, the whirlpool I willingly submitted to, just to experience another taste.

At least, for this night.

"Tell me, or I'll stop". I hear his threatening voice, and before I can articulate a response, I feel the firm pressure of his hands on my hips, urging me once again.

"Holy shit," I manage to say, gripping the table tightly. My head tilts back, feeling his own chest behind me as he advances in his movements. I can't form a coherent sentence without being interrupted by the pleasant sensation. As his movement continues, I pray for him not to stop; therefore, his name escapes my lips, expressing a single plea that I hope satisfies him, although with Harry, we both know it will never be enough.

"Come on, pretty girl," he repeats that nickname that sends a shiver down my spine once again. "Tell me a truth or you'll lose again".

"It feels so good," I finally utter, albeit still with difficulty. "Don't you dare stop," I warn, hearing a low chuckle in response. "I'm so close".

"Come," he responds immediately, accelerating his pace inside me, causing my eyes to close. "Let me feel how you tighten around me".

"Come with me," I manage to say only.

"You don't have to ask me twice," I hear his response in my ear.

The intensification of his thrusts makes them more rhythmic, marking a strong beat that increases the collision between our naked bodies. My head continues arched backward, but this time it remains immobilized by his arm around my neck, holding firmly in the precise place. The pressure is strong enough to be felt, but still allows me to breathe without too much difficulty. However, this complicates as I feel my movement synchronizing with his, my hips coming to life on their own as I approach the peak of pleasure in my life.

Tears run down my cheeks, leaving a salty taste on my lips, inevitably absorbed while my mouth emits moans or seeks air. The walls of my pussy begin to contract, and I can feel the pulsations inside me from Harry's cock, indicating that he is as close as I am.

I couldn't help but wish that he would come before me, longing to experience his reactions firsthand. However, the inevitable happened.

I felt a sensation of warmth rising through my body, wrapped in an electricity that made me move more restlessly and carelessly. My moans became louder, and finally, I experienced the tension bursting around me. I was unable to feel anything other than my own release and the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that invaded me.

Harry's grip relaxes on my neck, releasing it and allowing my body to fall back onto the table. It is at that moment, when I finally find myself able to regain awareness of my surroundings, that I can feel Harry's body leaning against mine, embracing me gently with his posture and holding me with delicate gestures.

The synchronization of our own breaths takes at least a few minutes, during which we both maintain our positions and experience an immediate sense of relaxation that extends throughout our bodies.

The minutes seem to prolong, and fatigue envelops me, allowing me to perceive only the freshness of the night breeze as Harry pulls away. I feel his touch on my legs, wiping me with what seems to be paper and holding me to prevent me from falling. Finally, I let myself fall on the couch, backed by him, and let myself be carried away by exhaustion, while Harry's green eyes are the last thing I see before everything plunges into darkness.

The whisper of the sea and the movement of the waves wake me up, and I realize that the night has given way to the blue morning sky around the yacht.

My drowsy eyes struggle to accurately perceive the environment until I focus on the table in front of me, which seems to be located farther from its usual position, several meters away from the scattered chairs in the place.

Memories of the previous night assault me at once with this landscape, leading me to look up and meet the serene face of a sleeping Harry beneath me.

I contemplate some of his curls falling onto his forehead, while I realize that his face has small marks from my dark lipstick. A faint smile forms on my lips as I try to move in my position without waking him.

In my attempt, I look around again, noticing that my bag is also scattered on the floor and has started buzzing similar to my notifications, which doesn't cease.

My brow slightly furrows, trying to distance myself carefully from Harry once again until I finally manage to and take my bag in my hands, pulling out my phone.

The time is revealed to me, noticing that it might be due to the various notifications that were coming in. On the screen, I see messages from some friends, numerous missed calls from Ally and Sandy, and a last message from an unknown number.

I access the last message from Ally, finding her response that she is already home and noting a drastic change this morning, or more precisely, since dawn. Her messages started with capital letters and filled the chat with about twenty monosyllables, culminating in a final message begging me to explain what was happening.

I didn't fully understand until I decided to open the link she attached to the message. Then, a note from People magazine opens in my browser, with my profile face and the image of a smiling Harry next to me.

I close my eyes for a moment. I should have anticipated that this would happen.

Inevitably, I continue scrolling down the page, and a big headline appears, accompanied by more photos of me getting into his black car and disappearing with Harry, leaving no trace of us throughout the night.

«CAUGHT IN A SPECIAL NIGHT Has Madison Moore decided to leave behind the melancholic romance and opt for vibrant pop? Discover the latest details about the encounter between the star girl and none other than Harry Styles.»

Shit.

[mwritesc]

DEMO

you are a demigod. a demigod on an island of stern cliffs and crashing waves and sea foam. the grass is yellowed and shifts with Zephyr, the west wind. the beaches are rock ribbed and gray as the heavens, home of the gods.

there is a house on Cyprus. one home, though it takes enough space for three. it sits right at the cliff's edge, hanging above the ocean like a lone lantern in the night. it is yours. but not yours alone. by the gods, if you were here alone…

Cyprus is an under development interactive fiction following your journey as a young demigod navigating the shifting wills of the gods, and mortals, following the famed birth of Aphrodite.

Greek myth inspired story

Character driven narrative - let your home fall to ruin to ascend to Olympus, or resist your prophesied fate and make your descent

4 Unique romance options - pursue a god, a mortal, a nymph, or the goddess of beauty and love herself, all with different storylines and narratives

Partial romance options - pursue the charming guide of the recently deceased, if only for a moment in time

Character customisation - define the details of your demigod, including their dreams and motivations regarding the rest of the story

3 distinct 'factions' - the gods of Olympus, the cthonics of the underworld, and the nature deities on Cyprus. make allies, or enemies

Discover and choose your godly parentage - you know you are a demigod. It is why you're allowed to Olympus. And yet, your parentage remains a mystery.

Rated 17+ for depictions of violence and sexually suggestive themes

Adonis [RO] - Sunlight on earth. Light as a breeze, and quick as it too. He loves and wonders with a fire that burns bright, but burns out just as fast. He's a thorn in your side for it, and he loves it, but you love him till death nonetheless. If only you could save him from himself, before he burns too close to the sun.

Aphrodite [RO] - Born from the sea foam, Aphrodite is the chosen goddess of beauty and love. Everywhere she goes, she brings just that. A breath of summer air, she is, with a kindness and hidden intelligence that shines through when she needs it. She will be the rebirth of Cyprus, or its destruction.

Zephyrus [RO] - The young deity of the west wind, Zephyr does not often stick to one place. His visits to Cyprus are brief, and he remains a mystery to all its inhabitants. All but you. Discover the true west wind, behind the soft, dark glances and long disappearances. Only do not let him discover you in return.

Teledice [RO] - Daughter nymph of Thallo, Teledice shares the bluntness of her mother and the ornate beauty of the spring. Teledice insists her duty lies with her sisters, and her mother alike, and will do anything, out of pure devotion, to keep Cyprus alive. Will you heed her warnings, or heed instead the call to the cosmos?

Hermes [Partial RO] - The charming guide of the notably deceased, Hermes fills his days of dark trips to the underworld with his own laughter. When he finds you (if you decide to make the trip to Hades' domain) he decides you might need a little laughter of your own.

+more TBA

[hobiebrownismygod]

My OC but I can't draw - The Widow

Maitreyi Jokhar (she/her & South Indian), Earth-206202, Present day, Spider-man/Black Widow (kind of) variant

I doubt anyone's gonna see this, but if you do and you like my character, let me know, cuz idk whether I should try to write stuff about her like other creators on Tumblr or if I should just keep her within the confinement of my mind lol.

Summary: She's basically the Black Widow if she was Spider-man and Indian. She went through a very similar process as the MCU Black Widow when it comes to her backstory. As for her suit, I got inspiration from Cindy Moon/Silk Spider and she basically wears a black face mask with a silver and black suit with straight black pants/jeans over them. She has her black hair pulled back in a braid that falls to her mid-back with curtain bangs to frame her face. For her backstory, I tried to make it as accurate to the MCU universe as I could because shes a product of H.Y.D.R.A, and I also tried to follow the storyline of ATSV but if there are any mistakes, please correct me! I made her bisexual and it'll briefly mention that below too. I'm going to ship her with Hobie Brown, cuz I'm obsessed with him, so some of that will be down as well. If you have any feedback or anything, that would be greatly appreciated, because I'm still pretty new to Tumblr and this is my first Spider-sona/OC! Also, if anyone can think of a better name for her, please let me know, cuz "The Widow" feels kind of cliche, lol.

This is a MEDIUM-LENGTH POST (About 1.2k words)

Backstory, Personality, Looks, Relationship, Fighting Style and Canon Events are all under the cut! 💜

I think I gave her too much trauma but whatever, character development and all that great stuff :p

Backstory:

Kidnapped and sold into child trafficking at the age of 5

Eventually forced into the Red Room/Black Widow Program from the ages of 7-14(the same one that Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow was subject to)

In this universe, the Red Room Program is an extension of Hydra

Chosen to be part of one of Hydra's new super-soldier experiments at the age of 15 after hundreds of failed attempts at replicated the super-serum used on Captain America during WWII

Gave her the same powers as the normal Spider-man except she has a limited amount of webs and has fangs which inject extremely deadly venom

Continued to be trained by Hydra until the age of 16, when the Avengers of her universe were finally able to find the base and invade it

Captain America/Steve Rogers of her universe took her in and treated her like a daughter, because she reminded him of Bucky who he lost in the war

She became an Avenger until her universe's version of Avengers Infinity War happened, except they weren't able to bring everyone back, and they were only able to get rid of the infinity stones

Half of the universe disappeared, including most of her Avenger friends

The world blamed superheroes for this and superheroes were no longer revered in this universe and were instead hated

She gave up her mask until she was eventually recruited by Miguel at the age of 18, only a few months after she gave it up

Looks:

I can't draw her out but this is what I imagine her to look like in my head

Fairly short, about 5'5ish

Black hair that she pulls back into a loose braid that falls to her mid-back with curtain bangs framing her face

Medium brown skin cuz she's South Indian, so probably an almond brown color with big dark brown eyes and long lashes

Wears a black face mask instead of a normal Spider-man mask, kind of like Silk/Cindy Moon's

Her suit is a black and silver spider-man suit and she wears straight black pants, kind of like straight jeans over them.

Has a big silver spider emblem on her back

Fingerless gloves to make it easier to stick onto walls

Has a side pocket in her pants where she hides a knife given to her by her version of Aunt May (expanded on in the canon events section of the post below)

Personality:

Cold, and doesn't really like to open up to people because of her trauma

When she does open up it comes out very emotionally and she kind of bursts

She has anger issues, and can get pretty heated, especially if she's performed badly during a mission or missed a punch during a fight

She beats herself up over little things, and expects perfection from herself (trauma)

She has a punching bag for this reason and she's always in the conditioning/training area of the Spider Society, trying to be better, to be the best

Despite this, she's really gentle and quiet around people she cares about (Hobie, Margo, Pav, etc...)

Doesn't enjoy physical touch unless its from someone she really cares about or feels safe around

Her love language is physical touch and quality time and if she's around someone she cares about, she'll constantly be touching them, whether its holding their hand, holding their finger or having her arm around their waist

Doesn't crack jokes like the average spider-man, has a very dry sense of humor when she does make jokes

Once someone get really close to her, she'll never let them go, always being really clingy and hugging on to them, cuz shes afraid of losing them like she lost everyone else

She never got the chance to be a kid, so she can seem a little clingy and childish at times.

She tries hard not to be, but its so difficult when she's so afraid of being alone again

Fighting Style:

She's very acrobatic

She tends to fight differently than the average Spider-person because she was trained to be more of an assassin

Uses anything in the environment she can get her hands on, like sticks, knives, sharp rocks, even pencils

Shes very handy with guns

Stopped holding back her punches after her canon event (expanded on in the canon events section of this post below)

Relationships:

After joining the Spider-Society, she met Hobie Brown and fell head over heels for him, although she would never admit it

He reminded her of Captain America/Steve cuz of how vocal Hobie is about his values and beliefs

Steve was the same way and she always admired that so it fueled her crush on Hobie

They became friends shortly after she arrived

She told Hobie about how people in her universe don't like superheroes after what happened and he immediately asked her if she wanted to stay with him in his dimension instead

She got very flustered but eventually said yes and now she stays in his spare room

He's trying to teach her how to play the guitar, but she's not that good at it

But she has a really nice singing voice

Sometimes she'll sit down next to Hobie when he plays the guitar and softly sing along to the music with her head on her knees

Its comforting for her and she likes being around him

Maitreyi isn't ACAB like Hobie, but she supports him either way, going with him to protests and being in the audience when his band plays

Since she was brought up in present-day she doesn't have as many bad experiences with racism as he does, but she, as a brown-skinned individual, has dealt with it before

She found that after moving to Brooklyn, there was a lot of prejudice against dark-skinned people, especially since she lived in the upscale, predominantly white neighborhood with her version of Aunt May

Because of this, she can somewhat relate to him, but not on the same level

Maitreyi also became close with Margo Kess/Spider-byte

They clicked when they first met

Margo likes to show Maitreyi all the cool tech she makes because her universe is a lot more advanced than Maitreyi's

She loves silently sitting in the corner while Margo works because she feels safe with her

She and Pavitr immediately clicked when they first met

Hobie introduced her to him and she was absolutely in awe of this optimistic, colorful young man who was basically the exact opposite of her in personality terms

They're both South Indian so they quickly bonded over their shared culture

Despite Maitreyi being South Indian, she does speak some Hindi, along with German, English and Russian

She doesn't speak her mother-tongue or even know what it is because she was taken from her parents so young, but she tried to learn Hindi after moving to Brooklyn because she wanted to be closer to her culture

Pav and Maitreyi talk in Hindi to each other sometimes, which confused Hobie whenever he's with them

She looks up to Miguel O'Hara

She thinks he's a good leader and aspires to be like him, even though she hates his justification of canon events

They have similar powers (they both have fangs) and he taught her how to talk without showing her fangs so she can be less intimidating

She likes Mexican food and they often go to the cafeteria together to eat empanadas and etc...

Both of them enjoy silence and quality time, so when they do get food together, they don't talk, they just quietly enjoy the vibes

Its the same with Jess Drew

She thinks she's freaking awesome

Jess was Maitreyi's mentor, similarly to how she was Gwen's mentor in ATSV

Jess taught her how to drive a motorcycle and she fell in love with it

Sometimes when she needs to blow off steam, she'll ask Jess to take her motorcycle out for a drive (She'll always say yes)

She does NOT like Peter B. Parker

She doesn't find him funny and doesn't like his vibes

She doesn't appreciate the fact that he brings his baby on dangerous missions, because she has a major spot spot for children

She DOES however love Mayday

She especially loves babysitting her with Hobie and watching him play with her

She finds it very comforting and sometimes she'll find herself staring at Hobie, just admiring his features and his voice and has to snap herself back to reality before he notices

He 100% has no idea about her major crush on him because he's kind of dense about those things

Also she's not vocal about it and tries her best to be inconspicuous about how attracted she is to him

Canon Events:

Maitreyi's first canon event was the experiment in which she gained her powers

It functions as her version of the "Spider-bite"

Her second canon event was losing Gwen Stacy

After being saved from H.Y.D.R.A. by the Avengers, she tried to live her life out as a normal teenager, under the protection of the S.H.I.E.L.D.

S.H.I.E.L.D wanted her to assimilate with the public quickly in order to prevent the possibility of her falling under the influence of H.Y.D.R.A again, and believed that by engaging with people her age and creating emotional connections, it wouldn't happen

They allowed her to use her powers to protect Brooklyn as they wanted her to hone her abilities in a safe way, while also being able to ward off the possibility of Kingpin, Green Goblin or any of the other New York villains becoming Avengers-level threats

She was given a new name, Mary-Jane Watson, and sent to live in Brooklyn under the protection of May Parker, a retired S.H.I.E.L.D agent

She met Gwen Stacy at Brooklyn High and fell in love with her

They dated for a few months and Gwen quickly found out that she was Spider-woman

Maitreyi lost Gwen Stacy during a battle with her nemesis, Norman Osborne/Green Goblin

Maitreyi dropped out of school immediately after Gwen's death and turned her attention toward becoming a full-time Avenger

She also got rid of the alias, Mary-Jane Watson, because she wasn't fond of it in the first place and started using her original name instead

Her third canon event was losing her mentor, Steve Rogers/Captain America

In her universe's version of MCU Infinity War, where Thanos collected all the infinity stones, they were only able to stop him by killing him

Thanos destroyed the stones right before he died, and dusted away 50% of the population

Iron Man/Tony Stark was one of those 50% and therefore, they were never able to travel back in time to get the stones or do any of the things that happened in MCU Endgame

Steve Rogers was one of the people who was snapped away as well and Maitreyi held his hand as he died

Her fourth canon event was giving up her mask

Only a week after Thanos happened, she threw away her mask and went back to live with May, who was perfectly willing to house her

About two months after she gave up her mask, Miguel approached her and asked to recruit her to the Spider-Society

At first she was hesitant, but she accepted, taking back her mask and once again becoming, The Widow

This is all before the events of ATSV by the way, I have no idea how I'm gonna introduce her to ATSV-Gwen Stacy or Miles yet lol

You must be exhausted from reading all this, so here's a Hobie to refresh you!

Definitely one of my favorite pictures of him, he's so gorgeous mwah

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Do you have any good crossover fics? I love them but so many hunger game crossovers are just mislabeled and it’s the other fandom in a hunger games setting

Hello Anon!

Below is a masterlist of crossover fics! Hopefully some are new to you! I'll add this topic to future masterlists! Happy reading!

Alibi-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: He's charming, nervous, and completely captivated. She's alluring, mysterious, and handy with weapons. Successful novelist Peeta Mellark provides an alibi for a beautiful stranger, rescuing him out of a writing slump—but he soon finds out that he may need rescuing from her! Modernish Everlark AU. Trigger Warning: very minor pet character death. Crossover fic with the movie Her Alibi. Binary Sunset-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: Their love was destiny, and it will spark a rebellion across the entire galaxy. Jedi Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark resist temptations during the rise and fall of the Empire. Set in the Star Wars Universe. Do You Want To Build A Snowman?-titania522 (ao3) Summary: A Katniss x Prim holiday drabble featuring Everlark and the toastbabies, Sophia and Rye. Even after all these years, the memory of Katniss's sister still has the power to undo her. Eclipse-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: There's only one thing standing between Katniss and Peeta. Her fire. Inspired by the book The Darkest Minds. Fireflies in the Dark-titania522 (ao3) Summary: Loosely based on the Max/Liesel storyline in The Book Thief. Set in a town near Munich, Germany during World War II, Peeta Mellark appears on the Everdeen's porch in the middle of the night. The family soon finds themselves harboring a Jew at a time when doing so is punishable by death. Despite the odds, Katniss will risk anything to keep him safe. Frost-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: In the kingdom of Panem, authoritarian King Coriolanus is coveting an Heir, everything changes when Jack Frost falls in love with a human girl from the small District Twelve, and tries to prove himself in order to become human permanently and win the heart of his beloved. Heretics-titania522 (ao3) Summary: "Attachments lead to loss. Loss leads to suffering. Suffering leads to fear. Fear is the path to the Dark Side." But in a universe where Jedi are hunted and Good struggles to exist, it is Katniss and Peeta's uncommon connection that makes them powerful...and wanted. Based loosely on Star Wars: The Force Awakens and Star Wars: The Extended Universe. I Don't Want to Wait-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: Peeta Mellark has been in love with Katniss Everdeen, the girl across the creek, for as long as he can remember, but her heart seems to belong to Gale Hawthorne, her best friend since childhood. How can a guy compete? A Dawson's Creek crossover fic. In Every Generation-msdisdain (ao3) Summary: Katniss is the Chosen One, recently back from the dead. Her drunken Watcher, Haymitch, has pushed the Council one too many times and now he's been replaced with a familiar face--ex-Sunnydale resident Peeta Mellark. Will his childhood past with Katniss keep them from saving the world, one vamp at a time? Jurassic Games-lollercakes (ao3) Summary: Who thought un-extincting dinosaurs was a good idea? A semi-crossover with THG and Jurassic Park/World.

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

[unlocked-doors-verse]

Mystery Kids AU: New Changes

Ho boy, somehow I've fallen back into Coraline since the local movie theater decided to premier it again - hence why I decided to talk about my Mystery Kids AU and the updated lore changes because well, I want to be a menace today.

So, to recap from old posts - the chosen fandoms are Danny Phantom, Coraline, Paranorman, and Gravity Falls. All of these do take place post-canon, although Phantom Planet is retconned because- no. For the record, I don't necessarily hate it but it's not really important to my plot.

I'm going to break this down into different sections, so! Let's get started, shall we?

The plot begins with Dipper and Mabel returning to Gravity Falls, Oregon, for the summer and due to a camp program happening - well, it leads to the others becoming part of said camp, arriving to the sleepy town where shenanigans ensue. Dipper and Mabel are both nearly sixteen now, as of course - their birthday is near the end of summer break. Things start off as very typical to the weirdness that is Gravity Falls, and introducing the characters to one another. Though about halfway through, when the main storyline picks up, we're also given a glimpse of the main villains... who I unfortunately cannot mention right now because that would defeat the purpose.

I do intend for the series to be a lot darker than the original movies and/or tv shows because that does defeat the purpose, so this is your fair warning of what to expect for the Mystery Kids/Unlocked Doors verse. I am hoping to transform it into a proper series, exploring the Main Bad Guys across the four franchises but we'll see what happens with the first installation!

(Under-the-Cut Information)

Character Introductions

Dipper Pines: 15-16 years old. After the defeat of Bill Cipher, Dipper and his twin sister Mabel returned home to Piedmont, California. His intrigue and fascination with the weirdness and abnormal continued to get stronger - in light of what went down during the events of Weirdmaggedon, Dipper follows in Grunkle Ford's footsteps. He's fallen out of the preteen anxiety he had in his preteen years, even if it does little to help his own paranoia of the return of Bill Cipher. Dipper began keeping his own journals, adding onto them and hoping to one day become a paranormal researcher.

Mabel Pines: 15-16 years old. Mabel Pines is the twin sister to Dipper. Unlike her brother, Mabel is known for her artistic and creative side - she dreams of the day she can make it big as an artist, or even simply becoming a teacher. She's not picky to be honest! Mabel's hyperactive, cheerful personality continues to shine even now; though she still has dreams of what happened during Weirdmaggedon. Even then, she's just looking to have a great time in Gravity Falls, not having the slightest clue of what awaits her and her friends.

Norman Babcock: 14 years old. Norman is a bit younger than Dipper and Mabel, simply due to his birthdate, but even then - he's matured quite a bit since the events that went down in his hometown of Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts. Norman can still come off as a little awkward around new people, but he does have a good heart and does his best to help wherever he can. He has fully embraced his ability to see ghosts and helps them cross over.

Danny Phantom: 16 years old. Danny is the eldest out of the kids. Following the defeat of Pariah Dark and a few other select baddies, things slowly returned back to normal - Amity Park became a little more accepting and Danny's role as protector flared even more, but of course... there are still other threats brewing under the surface though I'm sure they won't be much of an issue for Phantom.

Coraline Jones: 15 years old. Coraline's life slowly settled after the incident and became closer with Wybie Lovat. She has hoped to forget about what happened, attempting to bury it down (and no one would blame her, it was quite the traumatizing experience-) but an unexpected summer camp program to Gravity Falls, Oregon is about to change everything in ways she didn't expect. She's got a spunk to her now - still just as sassy as she was in her younger years.

Wyborne "Wybie" Lovat: 15 years old. Wybie is Coraline's best friend now; the two became practically inseparable after what happened in the Pink Palace - though more specifically, the wall. He still doesn't know what to make of it, but he isn't nearly as spooked by all of it as Coraline. Wybie continues to be kooky and eccentric and might just be having a tiny puppy crush on Coraline, though he's never going to admit it. Who knows what might come of their summer camp in Gravity Falls?

Other characters will be in this, of course but they're not nearly as important as the ones I already listed - or who knows, maybe I have plans I can't share just yet ;))

Lore Infodumping

Ho boy, I can only share so much because weeelll - I will not be able to share spoilers, but here goes nothing.

Gravity Falls, Oregon, and other likeminded towns became natural hotspots for weirdness once the barrier was broken - of course, this is canon but people just sort of accepted this as part of the everyday normal. With cities like Amity Park however, and the fact Danny is in fact a superhero, this becomes a different can of worms. Much like one of my other projects, it isn't out of the ordinary for the hotspot towns and even 'hero cities' to keep to themselves though it remains unclear why.

Gravity Falls became a very popular tourist spot, eventually creating the summer camp program. Though no one talks about Weirdmaggedon, preferring to keep it that way in the hopes of warding off bad energy and superstitions associated with it. The Pines are still an oddity amongst the residents, but they came to be respected - especially now with how they managed to stop Bill Cipher. Ford continued recording information about his adventures in new journals, using it as a pastime now more than his job. Stan and him return home during the summers to spend time with their great niece and nephew.

I genuinely don't have much to say about the Pink Palace or Blithe Hollow since things just sort of went back to normal. As for Amity Park, it's a bit different as it became liminal and just has more ghost activity; like I mentioned earlier - Phantom Planet has yet to happen, or won't happen, I don't know which. It turned into a hotspot of its own and the citizens have been marked by ghostly activity (not that they have powers-). Anyway,

Earth as a whole has changed a lot and who knows what come next?

I'm going to be changing the blog url into unlocked-doors-verse since Secret Origins is now separate from this! You are more than welcome to send me asks and/or interact with the blog, and I will be providing headcanons and more information in a following post! Obviously I can't share many spoilers though there's going to be a lot more for this universe. As of right now, this is not a character blog - it's more for the AU itself, BUT you can ask me information about the characters and how everything works.

Until next time, my lovely readers!

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 2

(Gif by @banditthewriter)

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary: You meet the infamous Billy Russo

Frank introduced you to Curtis not long after him and Maria got married. He not only figured the two of you would hit it off good but considering you were a paramedic and Curtis a navy corpsman he figured the two of you had that as a starting point for a friendship.

Curtis had the best heart out of anyone you'd ever met. He was constantly on the look out for how he could help others and just all around a really good guy. It didn't take long before he'd fallen into the same category as Frank but while Frank was the overly protective bear of a brother figure Curt was the calmer head's prosper version. You'd found a new family to fall into a routine with. The Castles, Curt and your partner and friends at the station house helped you to really gain your footing in the life you wanted.

The day you met Billy you weren't sure what to expect . You'd talked to Frank and Curt both enough while they were deployed to know of him. He was pretty much like you, a stray that Frank had found and decided to keep just as Maria had decided to keep you. You'd seen a few photos of him alongside Frank and Curt and honestly? He was gorgeous in your opinion. He was around Frank's height with thick brown hair, eyes that looked nearly black they were so dark in color and a smile that even in a photo could grab your attention.

Apparently from Maria's description though while she did say he was a good guy and a sweetheart she didn't smooth over the fact that he was a player "The fellas call him Billy the beaut. Just as a forewarning if he tries turning the charm on please don't fall for it. He really does fit into this family well and I'd hate to have to cut his balls off." you hadn't even tried to hold back the laughter that the mental image of Maria's five foot four self assaulting a decorated marine had caused. "Yes ma'am" you agreed as you took in behind Lisa trying to catch her so you could change her into the outfit Maria had chosen for the airport trip to meet Frank.

You had the day off and had originally showed up to the Castle household wearing shorts and a short sleeve blouse but when Frank Jr had decided he didn't like his lunch and that it looked better on your shirt than in his stomach Maria had dug one of Frank's old marine shirts from bootcamp out and handed it to you "He won't mind and besides Frank Jr did pretty much cover your other shirt"

On your way out of her bathroom from changing you spotted one of Frank's ballcaps on top the dresser so you grabbed it and pulled your ponytail through the hole figuring why not? At least it lowered the chances of Lisa finding your hair to play with while you waited in the crowd that always accompanied the homecomings.

"Aunt Y/N do you have any food?" Lisa asked swinging from your arm with a giggle as you scanned the crowd looking for Frank. "No sweetie I'm sorry but as soon as we get your daddy we'll get you some lunch ok?" "Ok" she agreed with a grin that highlighted her missing front tooth that had come out a week before.

"Do you see them yet?" Maria asked and you were about to shake your head when you spotted Frank working his way through the crowd "I see Frank!" you said and waved your arm so he would see you. He locked eyes with you and smiled then leaned back in the crowd and you could tell he was talking to someone and that was when you spotted Billy at his side "and he's got Russo with him" you added earning a cheeky grin from Maria at the use of Billy's last name.

Frank made it to your small group first and pulled Maria into a kiss then hugged Lisa and Frank Jr close to his chest. After he let them go he grinned at you "C'mon kid you're getting a hug too" you let him pull you into his arms and laughed against his chest when he said "By the way are you wearing my shirt and my hat?" You pulled back with a guilty expression and tilted your head towards Maria "Boss lady said I could"

"Smart woman to listen to her" you heard someone say and turned to see Billy's eyes were glued to you. "Well the infamous Billy Russo. It's nice to finally meet you" you offered your hand with a smile. A glint of a mixture of amusement and maybe a little bit of cockyness flashed through his eyes before a smirk slowly worked its way onto his face and he shook your hand "And you must be Y/N. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Frankie" you could tell he was turning on the charm and had you not been warned? Oh hell yes it would've worked but instead you simply replied "I've heard a lot about you too. Now let's see what out of that is true or not"

You missed the look he gave Frank when you turned around to pick Lisa up which was clearly "Where did you find her?" Billy had his fair share of women but none that ever really peaked his interest until you. There was something about you that had him watching your every move or until Maria arched an eyebrow at him and Frank's earlier warning of "Bill Y/N is a pretty girl but she's like a sister to Maria and has been there for her and the kids more than I have meaning she's family and that Maria will cut your balls off should you even attempt your usual methods"

He raised his hands defensively and hoisted his bag on his shoulder to walk out the airport with all of you. You glanced back and smiled at him "So Billy I hear you're uncle as much as I'm aunt?" He nodded "Yea why?" and laughed when you held Lisa out to him "Carry her to the car for Maria. I'm grabbing a cab to go on a food run and will meet all of you at the house" "Yes ma'am" he smirked and gave you a salute so in return you rolled your eyes but didn't try to fight the smile that had worked it's way onto your face "At ease lieutenant"

You winked at Maria and said "I am going after Frankie's favorite and am getting my niece some lunch, anything else needed?" "Beer" Frank offered and you tilted your head towards him "Of course" then walked the opposite way of them to hail a cab while they headed for the parking lot.

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today. 

Here with us today is the one and only @redd956!

Good to have you here! How about we start off with a fact or three about yourself?

I got by two other names online, as my aliases are many, such as Dezert and Usarin. My blog itself isn’t fully a whump blog, but also writing/worldbuilding, it’s just quite well known in the whump community and I do see myself as a avant participant. Worldbuilding is my true passion, but it’s notable I also play tons of video games. My blog, and other online names are all after randomly chosen OCs of mine.

Let’s get straight to the point! What does whump mean to you?

Whump as a kid meant to me something strangely dark or violent to fall asleep to, now a days character arcs are expected in that. I realised I wasn’t alone upon joining finding the community. So now I guess it just means storyline violence/conflict in hopes to show a character arc unique to characters who go through a lot.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I found it while searching for writing tips & tricks stuff for a pinterest board. I realised when out of night ideas to sleep to I could use this, and lurked around the tumblr side of the community for half a year. Finally I noticed a lot of my favourite tropes weren’t as prevalent or there at all, and couldn’t take it anymore. Sometimes you just need to do something yourself.

Do you think your view on whump changed since you joined? 

My view hasn’t really changed at all, but I do have some new favourites, primarily the whole Hero contrasting with Villain character dynamics in whump.

What do you consider to be your favourite whump trope?

Oh boy… I guess my favourite whump trope would be taking down a powerful stoic character. The power itself is meant to be vague, as I feel it changes depending on whatever I’m feeling, whether it be physically, magically, role, whatever. I primarily love this because it forces the powerful character to show vulnerability they are not used to, and I absolutely love that.

Do you mind sharing a favourite piece you've written?

My favourite piece I’ve written isn’t on my blog, and probably never will be, as I write a lot. And I mean…a lot. It changes every year, so right now I’d give it to a 7 page piece of mine dedicated to my OCs from my worldbuilding universe, labelled Apocalyptic for obvious reasons. For my blog… I’d say my favourite piece is Prompt 8. I did once attempt to post a sequel because of requests but I absolutely hate it and refuse to acknowledge it’s existence. 

I love a good hero/villain story! Do you have a regular writing routine?

I only write whump via striking sudden inspiration. I do have a major overwriting problem, that I’m still trying to fix. I write a lot! I am a studying creative writing major, and will likely be working as a writing tutor next school semester. I usually play lo-fi, hopefully themed to whatever I’m writing, and write any time of day or night.

And do you find that some things are easier to write than others?

I excel in military and nonhuman whump in my eyes, as well as a lot of cold whump. I’m great at the first two, because a lot of my personal creations include them. I’m bad at writing long form captivity/torture stuff. I just don’t exactly like most of it anyway, for no reason in particular. But I find it very difficult to describe.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? 

I’m currently working on starting and continuing the beginning of two whump series on Ao3. Other than that I’m always continuing my personal work. 

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

foap

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom, oh awesome one!!!!!

Write whatever you want, practice in whatever way works for you, and keep doing that!

Shout out to your favourite writing/whump blogs, bffs or people who've inspired you. We're hyping everyone one up here!!!

Oh dear, there’s so many! Uh @mottinthemainpot, @theres-whump-in-that-nebula, @whumpsday, @leyswhumpdump, @painful-pooch, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @wither-wander-whump , @whump-me @thebewingedjewelcat @i-eat-worlds and so many more

Also for good measure, the non-whump blog, @heckcareoxytwit

Anything you'd like to add?

You’ll probably notice me and my partner being occasionally unashamed madly in love on my blog, and especially on theirs. 

Thanks for joining us today, @redd956! Great to have you here!

And to all you wonderful folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[jester-creates]

Even more experiment au stuff.

So first the fun and less dark stuff.

I've decided that since Oliver has trauma related to Turo and Sada he shouldn't really do the path of Legends storyline. So I'm bringing in Juliana for that and Koraidon. Nothing really happens to her, but she does become friends with Oliver. This au's timeline is a mix of Scarlet and Violet's.

Both her and Oliver do get roped into doing the Starfall street storyline. Though Oliver mainly sticks to the gym challenge

Oliver actually likes to battle. He also has a crush on Nemona. These facts are not related.

Also in the Hisui part I decided to put another oc: Cassandra Achroma. She is essentially a Colress ancestor. His multiple greats aunt to be precise. She is a visiting doctor of Biology from Galar. She is kinda just there.

I also decided to add even more people to the list of hybrids. So remember when I said nothing happens to Juliana? I forgot to add the word yet. 

In fact i even roped Nemona and Penny into it.

Under the Read More is details regarding them, The Unova trio, and this au’s Colress, Sada, and Turo. The scientists are messed up.

So first of all, Colress. He was among the people who started the Original Experiment. He is the one who decided on each of the human test subjects. He was arrested after the Experiment was raided and shut down. Then he escaped and, using some gene samples, he decided to continue his experiments on his own. choosing Hilda, Nate, and Emmet as his subjects (maybe more if i feel like it). Colress decided to make Hilda a Serperior hybrid. So she gets a Snake tail and loses leg privileges. She can Photosynthesize

Nate becomes a Braviary hybrid. He gets to go through the very fun experience of Growing wings out of his back.

Emmet was supposed to just be an Eelektross hybrid, but due to the sheer amount of Joltiks on him, the DNA sample used was slightly contaminated. Emmet becomes a mix of a Eelektross and Galvantula hybrid when the changes are done. He gets spider legs coming out of his back.

Now as for the Professors, the time machine stuff still happened, just as a side project to fall back on when they blew the whistle on the experiment.

Please note: they only did that because they disliked Colress and no other reason.

The professors do still make the AIs and they still die. But they didn’t die without making a fail safe for their Experiments. They wanted to continue the work from the Experiments, but they knew they couldn’t be too sus with Clavell watching them.

So the main AIs were meant to distract him and they didn’t have any of the actual memories of the Original Sada and Turo. they were programmed with partially false memories and are basically the AIs from the game.

but the originals did still want to continue the Experiment, even if they weren’t there to do it. So they coded in a backup of their actual memories into the AIs under a file I’ve currently named Experiment.exe. Experiment.exe is simultaneously both the original Sada and Turo’s memories and the code set to run the vessels when the conditions are met.

And the conditions happen to be met at the Zero Lab fight. The AIs are very confused when it happens. Experiment.exe then targets the people there: Nemona, Juliana and Penny. Oliver and Arven are already listed as Subjects.

Juliana becomes a Miraidon hybrid. the little digital eyes, the tail, and the metal scales etc. etc.

Nemona was chosen to become a slither wing hybrid. She becomes fluffy, gets the wings and the tail, and she gets the eyes

Penny gets to be an Iron Moth hybrid. She can float once the changes are done. her changes are usually less apparent compared to others.

[tehuti88-art]

10/4/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Oma (Granny) Jäger, Frau Jäger, and Herr Jäger (first names never given). They're the paternal grandmother and parents of Ludolf Jäger; they aren't from the character list, but they're starting to develop an important role in Jäger's backstory as I'm writing up his full bio, so I figured I'd draw them. (Jäger also has six older sisters but I don't know that I'll draw them yet.) Young Ludolf is especially close to his Oma, who teaches him the old ways (rather to his mother's dismay). There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their design, they're late Victorian/Edwardian; Oma falls more under the former while Frau Jäger's big hair gives her away as Edwardian. They're all leucistic, not albino (white fur with blue eyes, not red).

TUMBLR EDIT: All righty! Having finished Dobermann's official profile (you can find it HERE), I decided on Major Jäger's next. Jäger's backstory first started to really reveal itself in his son Lars's entry. These art entries are based on what's been revealed so far in the in-progress bio, which is still in his childhood and subject to change. I suggest keeping an eye on HIS PAGE for future updates, though it takes me quite a while to finish them! These entries will be individualized to avoid repetition, though I have less info for Herr Jäger so far.

Oma "Granny" Jäger is the one of the three to develop the most info so far due to her unusual nature. A cursory glance at her everyday appearance--prim, severe, prudish-looking older woman with her hair in a neat bun and dark full dress buttoned down to her wrists and up to her throat (as opposed to Frau Jäger and her Gibson girl-style daughters with their giant poufs and bare shoulders and bosoms)--really does not even hint at her true nature. The older generations of Jägers don't appear in the main story--parents and sisters have long since moved out of the country, and Oma is possibly dead--though there's supposed to be a scene where Captain Himmel spots a pair of family photos on Jäger's desk, one of him and his wife Magda and their large brood of children, another with a man and woman, an older woman, a slew of girls with big hair, and a little boy in a sailor suit. The hint is that these are both photos of Jäger's family, the latter being siblings, parents, and presumably grandmother. The story never tells what became of them though I believe at one point Jäger briefly mentions them leaving, indicating that they're still alive. They're presumably still alive when Jäger and Magda and all their children die at the story's end, his sisters likely having started families of their own--so, the Jäger family doesn't COMPLETELY die out with him, yet they aren't the Jäger family anymore, either. This has particular significance, given the direction his backstory is taking.

This is largely the reason Oma Jäger--his paternal grandmother--is the one to become his teacher. She's not a Jäger by blood, but she's still a Jäger. I don't know her particular history yet but I have to assume she was born and raised in the ways which she later teaches her son and then her grandson. Presumably, whichever preceding parental figure taught her grew up in those ways too, and the one before them, etc. etc. What I'm not so sure about is her husband's side of the family, the actual Jägers--are they also from such a background, and is this why Oma and the deceased Opa (Grandpa) were drawn to each other?--or did Oma bring him into the lifestyle, OR just introduce their son (the future Herr Jäger) to it, similar to Ludolf, whose other parent (Frau Jäger) was never involved? I'm not sure, but I lean toward Opa Jäger also having followed the old ways, and he and Oma connected over this. Because really, it's the Jäger name that carries importance.

Let me clear up here, BTW, that when Jäger's name was originally chosen, NONE of this background was known, and I knew nothing about the significance of the name in folklore, either--this connection happened by chance. Or is it chance...? At least, it wasn't planned.

I went over the details of Ludolf's--then known as Luitpold's--difficult birth, the bargain his mother made with her mother-in-law to help her sons live, and the death of his twin Ludolf and the transfer of his name to the surviving brother, in Lars's entry above, so see that for some context. Oma Jäger has a reputation as a sort of seeress, capable of performing small spells and divining the future, so Frau Jäger asks for her help saving her sons, the price being that they will be raised in the old ways should they choose. And surviving twin Ludolf indeed comes across his Oma praying before her altar one night, and is afterward introduced to this lifestyle. Oma is a completely different person when praying to die alten Götter (the old gods): Young Ludolf spies her from behind, kneeling stripped to the waist, her long hair hanging loose down her back which is decorated with tattoos and painted runes, and when she hears him and whirls around, her face is painted too, her eyes wild, her pupils mere dots, and she has horns on her head. He doesn't even notice she's half naked, the rest of the transformation is so stunning. Oh, plus he's positive she's about to murder him.

Oma, however, following her initial surprise, doesn't even get angry or start rebuking him; she coaxes him forward instead, promising she won't hurt him. Ludolf's curiosity overrides his fear and he comes out of hiding and Oma introduces him to her world. She explains her altar, her prayers, her tattoos and runes, and when Ludolf asks if she's a witch, she asks in return, what would he say if she said she is...? He's fascinated to be related to a real live witch--previously, witches were just from folk stories and Brothers Grimm fairytales--and when Oma says she can teach him her ways, he jumps at the chance, and becomes her apprentice and her star pupil.

Ludolf seeks a sign, under Oma's guidance (stripped to his waist, painted, drugged with the poppy seeds and staring into the fire--he sees his twin, he sees the fire engulfing the world), to determine which god is his patron. Possibly due to his "two souls" (his and his deceased twin's), he ends up with two: Wotan and Donar, though it seems to be Donar he personally feels a stronger connection to, as later on he and his wife and children all wear silver Mjölnir (Donar's hammer) pendants; indicating that his connection to Wotan is through his deceased brother...this might explain Jäger's unpredictable fits of rage later in the story, when in stark contrast with his prim and sensible office demeanor, he quite literally goes completely unhinged at the drop of a hat and more than once ends up murdering someone. That's just a theory, though. It's Wotan's connection, legitimate or not, to yet ANOTHER divine being that also figures heavily in Jäger's story, as this divine being is intimately entwined within Jäger's very family line, his very name itself. He doesn't need to go looking for this being, Oma tells him, as it's already within him, passed down through the generations. There's no escaping your own blood.

Along with the old gods, Oma quietly introduces Ludolf to the even older, primordial gods, those who have been so largely forgotten that they're reduced to mere folklore figures, like Frau Holle or Holda, a great mother goddess now mostly relegated to a Grimm fairytale figure shaking snow out of her down comforters. Frau Holle has a shadowy male counterpart, who before even Wotan, once led the Furious Host, the Wild Hunt, as it rampaged across the sky on wintry nights. The lead figure with his baying hounds and his hunting horn and the antlers rising from his head. The common folk call him "the Eternal Hunter"...der Ewiger Jäger.

That's right, Oma tells the wide-eyed Ludolf, the oldest gods are right there in the family name, they've always been there even before Wotan and Donar and they'll be there long after Götterdämmerung. Donar and Wotan might be his patrons but der Ewiger Jäger is in his very blood and there is no escaping him. Wotan may lead the Wild Hunt now but der Ewiger Jäger preceded him, and Ludolf best never forget where his loyalty truly lies. Else he might end up a casualty of the Wild Hunt, himself.

This particular aspect of the story is still under development, though Jäger is meant to continue his pursuit of understanding the gods, especially Ewiger Jäger and his deceased twin (a sort of ancestor worship), throughout the plot. He joins the Waffen-SS when he comes of age and says farewell to his family when they leave the country; although he sees potential in this organization, a way to better connect with his roots, his family don't seem so convinced. After transferring to the Allgemeine-SS he starts his own family, and builds on his growing vision of a new, more perfect world, with Magda (see HER ENTRY); you can see that by this point, his belief system has been corrupted by the influence of the SS and is developing into a sort of full-blown mania. (I do believe Jäger starts succumbing to some sort of mental derangement the further along the story goes.) While he's out away from the family's mountain home one night, kneeling before a fire, stripped to the waist, painted up, high on poppy and praying to the sky, he's startled by a noise and whirls around, spotting his oldest (adopted) daughter Leopoldine spying on him; she scurries off in fear when he gets up and comes after her, yet when he reaches her he simply holds out his hand, helps her up, brushes the leaves and twigs from her hair and gently rebukes her for sneaking out so late. Yet the moment it becomes clear that she, like he once was, is curious to know what he's doing, he makes her his apprentice, his star pupil. And Leopoldine is very willing to carry on the tradition; she follows her adoptive father's path with blind, fanatical devotion, Papa's little princess. Before long she too sits before a fire as Jäger paints her face with his thumb and offers her a drink with poppy and waits for her to reveal what she's seen.

History repeats itself as it has countless times before...except that this time, the old wisdom has changed, been twisted around into something dark and awful, and without intending it, despite all his attempts at understanding, Jäger forgets Oma's words, misses the warnings--or, rather, just considers himself to be impervious to such things--and steps right into the Hunter's trap. His master plan brings everything literally collapsing around him; as explosions start rocking the Alpine Fortress and the walls of rock and ice collapse and fire plumes, filling up the caverns, Jäger finds himself staring into the rapidly approaching flames and finally understands what his vision was telling him so long ago. "Götterdämmerung," he murmurs in awe, right before his world ends.

Magda is left behind to finish off the backup plan, and, swallowing her doubt and grief, steadying herself with Leopoldine's faith, she follows through. The Jäger family is wiped out within mere moments, as if they'd never been.

The vision for the new world Jäger had at the end, though, wasn't the vision Oma tried to teach him. Oma may have been a witch but she's not the villain in this. Her intent wasn't corrupt, the way Jäger's was. She would've been appalled to see what he turned the old ways into. She wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but she tried to be a decent person...she just put her faith in the absolute worst person, her star pupil.

See also Frau Jäger's entry and Herr Jäger's entry.

[Oma Jäger [‎Friday, ‎October ‎4, ‎2024, ‏‎12:01:10 AM]]

[quinttee]

Quinton's Animation Extravaganza 809

0809

Wrapping Up Rehearsals

I was enjoying my day with Miyako, Fluttershy and Quinton Jr. It was time to wrap up rehearsals for Star Wars Episode VI, so I rounded up my cast and crew and we headed for the Bijou Theatre in Saffron City. We went through the entire show, complete with the sets and props, the costumes and even the music cues. While we were rehearsing, I began to look back on the Star Wars storyline so far. I could remember Anakin as a young boy being found by Qui-Gon and taken into the Jedi, Qui-Gon’s death and Obi-Wan promising him that he would train Anakin, Anakin falling in love with and marrying Padmé Amidala, Anakin falling to the Dark Side and becoming Darth Vader. Luke being trained by an elderly Obi-Wan, the Rebel attack on the Death Star, Luke heading to Dagobah to train under Yoda, and Luke finding out that Darth Vader is his father. And now, Luke would find out that Leia is his twin sister, he would finally confront his father, leading to his redemption and the death of the Emperor and the Rebels would attack the second Death Star. Darth Vader would finally fulfill the prophecy of the chosen one. Once we were done with rehearsals, we felt like we were ready for the show’s run. For the rest of the day, my friends and I kept an eye out for the Jashinka Empire’s next Evolution Beast.

[arisawati]

Tracing the message in the 37th selected work of Denny Ja: Terrorist is my brother

In the world of Indonesian literature, the name Denny JA has become an icon that cannot be ignored. Through his work full of intelligence and uniqueness, Denny JA has carved out his tracks in the hearts of the readers. One of the chosen works that attracted attention was "terrorist my brother". Let's explore the message contained in this essay poem. The "terrorist essay poem is my brother" is a story that describes the life of a teenager who accidentally discovered that his brother was involved in the world of terrorism. In this essay poem, Denny JA succeeded in combining elements of surprises, intrigues, and moral questions involving readers in a tense storyline. One message that we can find in this essay poem is about the complexity of human nature. Denny Ja cleverly illustrates how someone we think is close and trusted can have a hidden dark side. This inspires the reader to better understand that humans cannot always be judged by outside appearance or family relations. In addition, this essay poem also teaches us about the importance of communication between family members. The main character in this story experiences a difficult moral dilemma. However, through a brilliant storytelling, Denny JA inspires us to think that good communication and listening to each other can be a way out of a difficult situation like this. Another message that can be found in this essay poem is about the prevention of terrorism. Denny Ja jelly illustrates how a person can fall into the world of terrorism through the process of manipulation and the influence of external parties. This reminds us of the importance of education, tolerance, and broader understanding in combating terrorism. In this essay poem, Denny JA also succeeded in describing how evil can affect a person's life in depth. The main character in this story experiences a big change in his view of the life and values he profess. This reminds us of the importance of choosing the right path and rejecting negative influences. Not only that, the essay poem "Terrorist is my brother" also highlights the importance of community empowerment in fighting terrorism. Denny JA through his story, illustrates how people can play an active role in helping law enforcement and eradicating terrorism from within. In delivering his message, Denny JA uses straightforward but alluring language. He combined the dramatic and introspective elements in writing this essay poetry. This makes the reader fascinated by the story he brought and at the same time provided space to reflect on the contents of the hidden message. "Terrorist is my brother" is one of Denny Ja's works that should be appreciated. Through an interesting story and full of moral messages, this essay poem is able to inspire readers to better understand the complexity of human nature, the importance of communication in the family, and the role of society in preventing terrorism. Denny JA has made a major contribution in the world of Indonesian literature with his meaning full of meaning. "Terrorist is my brother" is a clear proof of Denny JA's expertise in creating stories that not only entertain, but also inspires the readers. As readers, let's continue to appreciate Denny JA's work and continue to trace the interesting messages contained in it.

Check more: Tracing the message in the 37th selected work of Denny JA: The terrorist is my brother

[secretnook]

@whimsical-roasting asked for Colin, Isaac, Sam, and Dani and I am here to deliver! Sorry for the wait🫶

Colin:

Long game but none of us win

Afraid of shеdding our skin

We keep on playing pretend

This fеar's a rope on our wrists

These years of life that we've missed

Song: Caves

Our beautiful strong and capable man. I chose these lyrics for reasons that I believe are fairly obvious. Colin hid who he was for many reasons and didn’t tell Isaac because of the fear that plagued his mind.

Sam:

There's no way out of an angry crowd without steppin' on some toes

They'll scream your name 'til the lights go out then they'll feed you to the wolves

It's hard to say who you'll be when they let those big red curtains close

You know this 'cause you told me so

Song: Godlight

I chose these lyrics for Sam to reflect the storyline surrounding his restaurant being vandalized. How people told him to keep his thoughts to himself and stick to dribbling a ball. To do the same thing which they love and praise him for until he makes a mistake. Sam is forced to navigate how he wants to live his life with these expectations forced on him by society.

Isaac:

It only falls into place when you're falling to pieces

You find love that lasts a while then you lose the reasons

You say God, I'm alive

But the whole place is quiet

You miss something that you can't place but you can't deny it

Song: Still

I chose these lyrics for Isaac specifically when looking at his time after being chosen as captain. Isaac has a hard time finding his footing as captain and the team as a whole struggles because of it, and as a result Isaac is constantly angry (understandably.) Isaac loved soccer, that’s why he dedicated his life to it. As we see later, Roy shows Isaac that he’s missing the love he had for the game, the fact that it used to be fun. Isaac probably wouldn’t have seen that if it wasn’t for Roy.

Dani:

Don't let this darkness fool you

All lights turned off can be turned on

I'll drive, I'll drive all night

I'll call your mom

Oh, dear, don't be discouraged

I've been exactly where you are

Song: Call Your Mom

Oh Dani, our sweet little angel boy. Dani can see the positive in any situation and has a way with words that makes things more understandable. Just look at his “wounded butterfly” word choice instead of simply saying Nate was being a dick. He is the sunshine on the team and he would do anything for anyone. Not only is he a ray of sunshine, he has gone through his own dark times and gotten to the other side, he knows what it’s like to go through something that changes how one sees the world and he’s there to help.

give me a Ted Lasso character and I’ll give you a Noah Kahan song lyric that applies to them (and will probs make me cry)

[melis-writes]

Moth to Flame [Michael Corleone x Reader Series, 18+ Smut] Chapter 22 - Christmas Eve.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 21 [AO3] / Tumblr / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

The holidays are beaming with festivities and family bonding as the Corleone and Ferrari families come together to celebrate Christmas of 1954 at Lake Tahoe. With new additions and your growing family all together, you spend your fifth Christmas with Michael and the twins. Marking another year of prosperity for both families, the notion of business is family and family is business comes clear for Michael who both defies your father's chosen successor--your eldest brother Lorenzo--and considers joining the narcotics trade. Amidst tensions of business, Michael's fatherly side reveals itself as he spends time parenting with you and relaxing during the winter holidays, leaving some much needed time for the two of you alone as you mark another year ending on the promises Michael made.

[WARNINGS]: Sensual intimacy / Making out.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: This is an “inbetween chapter” as in it’s detatched from the main plot and is an extra little chapter to focus on holidays, intimacy, even smut, or go in depth about a certain part of the plot! I’m definitely going to include more, but this is the first of its kind! More suggestion usage is coming, I promise! 💖🤞 There’s at least 14 smut and other suggestions you guys have sent in to me that will be used in one upcoming chapter alone! I do consider all of them even though I can’t promise to incorporate every single one of them. Keep ‘em coming, especially if there’s anything you want to see in the next, heavily detailed smut chapters or with the family! 😏 Lastly, I just wanted to mention we’re halfway through the fic/main storyline! I’m so invested in this story and I love that you guys love it, so even after I’m done with the main plot, I would love to write more oneshots and take suggestions from you guys! Lots more “Moth to Flame” to come even after! Please reply to this chapter (or any for that matter) if you would like to be added to the tagslist to be notified right away when a new chapter is posted! Enjoy!

[SUGGESTIONS]: Anons who requested: The reader’s brother being overprotective of her @loveilovetoo. / Lighting Michael’s cigarette for him. / Taking out Michael’s cigarette and replacing it with a kiss. / More of the reader’s brothers. / Verona drawing Michael a cute little picture / The reader and Michael enjoying their evening alone over snacks. / Christmas wholesomeness.

1949. Your name is Victoria Ferrari, and you’re the only daughter of one of the most powerful mafia families in New York—the Ferrari’s. When the Ferrari family began to gain heavy influence and power, it struck a power imbalance with the Corleone’s. To bind the families together as one in an offering of peace, friendship and business, you are to be married to their youngest son, Michael Corleone. As you ensnare yourself in the life of a mob wife by Michael’s side, what you don’t know is his old ties with Kay Adams, your best friend from Dartmouth, and that he returned from Sicily a widower. A ruthless mob boss to be, you unravel Michael’s dark past and the brutality that has changed his personality. You find yourself adapting to your new life, betrayed by those you love most, and in high profile to Ferrari and Corleone family enemies. Falling deeply in love with Michael, you enter a life and marriage filled with secrets and darkness. Bearing his children, supporting his crime empire and following him into the shadows, you’re unable to deny your passion and desire to the new Don. When it comes to Michael Corleone, you are but a moth to a flame.

Christmas spent with the Corleone’s and Ferrari’s is and always has been by the far the biggest of your family holiday celebrations, over the top in the most anticipated family get-together of the year. One where party planning and several dozen rolls of gift-wrapping paper are all that’s talked about and found in every corner of the Lake Tahoe residence; the air filled with cheer and good spirits, laughter, and memories to pass around.

The holiday season planning in the family always begins on the first of December and doesn’t end till the last drop of champagne is celebrated over New Year’s Eve. This is your fifth Christmas with Michael and his family and the first in which the twins—Niccolò and Verona—are now old enough to remember at five years old.

As the years have gone by, the family has continued to grow, now filled with forty-seven members with your entire half of the family, including Sonny and Sandra’s sons Frank and Santino Jr, their twin girls, Francesca and Kathryn, Theresa and Tom’s sons Andrew and Frank with their daughter Christina, Fredo and Deanna who much to your appreciation don’t have children, Connie and her boys Victor and Michael Francis, Vito, Carmela, your eldest brother Lorenzo with his wife and their five boys, your brother Leonardo, Dante, Alessio and his fiancée, and lastly, Matteo and his wife with their two boys and girls.

The Lake Tahoe compound houses everyone comfortably with far more room to spare, adding new meaning to the definition of “big, happy family.” The Christmas tree alone almost takes up an entire room to hold stacks and piles of presents all around it, illuminating its twinkling lights down to the hallway—each and every branch covered in the finest glass decorations.

Christmas is not only your favorite holiday but a personal one at that. It’s one of the few times in a year where you see Michael able to fully relax and spend as much time with the entire family—a rarity at any other given time. Instead of stuffing himself in paperwork and business meetings, stern as always, and bringing work into personal life, you’d see Don Michael Corleone relaxing during the holidays. A softer side of Michael committed to his family—and might you dare add, rather sexy in every possible way in his winter turtlenecks.

Although you’ve been able to see your own family much more since the relocation to Lake Tahoe, only on holidays, do you see your nieces, nephews, and sisters-in-law, only leaving Leonardo, your second eldest brother—to be the only single brother of age. If it wasn’t for Connie bringing a new man over every year, you could swear to yourself there’s a little more than friendly tension between her and Leonardo.

Christmas is also one of the few times Fredo actually interacts with the rest of the family, showing you his charismatic and social side with anyone he comes across. Almost a solid five years have passed, and while you get along as much as you can with someone like Deanna, Fredo has barely warmed up to you—and you’ve hardly cared. Instead of feeling intimidation towards your brothers, Fredo warms up to them as if they’re his own, spending most of his time with the Ferrari brothers ice fishing or drinking away in conversation.

This, of course, leaves Deanna drunk and blathering off about God knows what with only Connie and Sandra to bother. For the sake of having peace of mind, you prefer to avoid her and Fredo if possible, no matter who they’re with or where they are.

Still, the holiday season takes advantage of the bond Michael has with your family, as a word of business was and is rarely discussed during family get-togethers, only keeping conversation on personal scales and reconnecting. It’s a time you dedicate to nothing but family, cherishing all the memories you make and honoring them with timeless photographs to remember and hold dear throughout the years in your photo albums.

This Christmas eve, you’ve set aside your camera to keep up with the snowball fight between the Corleone and Ferrari boys. You’ve barely been able to keep the camera still from laughing and avoiding oncoming snowballs, hiding behind the makeshift snow fort opposite to the ones your brothers have set up.

It’s Niccolò, Verona, you, Sonny, and Tom up against your brothers Lorenzo, Leonardo, Alessio, and Dante, all frantically preparing a mass arsenal of snowballs from each other. While you just came out to participate in the “snowball war,” you’ve also quickly been targeted and hit by your brothers for jokingly being a “double agent traitor” for choosing to side with the Corleone’s—definitely taking your fair share of snowballs from near and far.

“Incoming!” Verona shrieks out, clutching onto her little pink crochet hat and lowering her head. Another snowball comes flying from Lorenzo, who immediately ducks back under his snow fort.

“Not a chance!” Niccolò continues frantically building up more snowballs with Sonny, piling them on top of each other in a pyramid stack.

“Just you wait and see!” Sonny exclaims, pointing his finger out. “You have no idea what we’re capable of!”

“They’re out of snowballs for sure. Defenses can be lowered!” Tom hollers back with a laugh, attempting to build another layer of snow upon the snow fort.

“Get her! Get the Corleone bride!” Leonardo rings out, rolling up an even bigger snowball.

“We’ll trade all our snowballs for her!” Dante bursts out laughing, clutching onto a small snowball between his mittens.

“No way, no way!” You grin back, grabbing a snowball from the stack, “you forget I can fight back!”

“Come out and face us then!” Alessio momentarily peeks his head up as you immediately send your snowball flying towards him, missing him entirely but knocking off a corner chunk of the Ferrari boys’ snow fort.

“Aw, man!” Dante whines out, nudging Alessio. “Look at what you’ve done! Quickly, rebuild, rebuild!”

“Now, let’s hit them while we can! Tom! Get up, damn it!” Sonny pulls at Tom’s arm, who now starts rapidly handing him the snowballs from the pyramid.

“Get them!” Niccolò rings out a battle cry as you all rise to your feet, grabbing as many snowballs as your hands can carry.

All of you make your way out from behind your fort, wildly throwing as many snowballs with force as you possibly can, targeting the chests and arms of your brothers that slip upon the ice, covered in a fury of snowballs.

“Hey, hey!” Leonardo can barely form a coherent sentence throughout his laughter.

“We’ve got you right where we want you!” Niccolò hands his sister one of his larger snowballs, continuing to chuck it over at Alessio and Dante, who now flee from their snow fort, giggling and attempting to duck about and avoid the snowballs.

“Gotcha!” Your last snowball successfully smacks onto the back of Lorenzo’s coat as you raise your camera up, snapping a photo of your brother clutching at his jacket and laughing as a whirlwind of snowballs fly around him.

“You’re on thin ice, kid!” Leonardo begins to crush up snow in between his gloves, forming a new snowball.

“Surrender all of your snowballs and fort to us!” Niccolò takes another two smoothly shaped snowballs from his stack.

“Hey, I’m on your side!” Tom gasps as chunks of snow fly off of his jacket, a perfect throw down by Sonny.

“Come on! You started it!” Sonny bursts out laughing as he ducks to avoid an upcoming snowball from Tom.

“Mama, would you like a snowball?” Verona peeks up at you, handing several small, perfectly shaped ones to you. “I’ve got plenty!”

“Why, thank you, sweetheart!” You look down to see your daughter beaming with a handful of her snowballs. “I’ll definitely take a few!”

“Tom, come ‘ere! Come ‘ere! Knock this down with me, damn it!” Sonny gestures, grabbing at his arm before lunging himself over on one of the snowmen your brothers built.

“Oh, now there’s snow in my ass!”

“Language, Sonny! There are children here!”

“Hey, there’s no snow in Sicily after all!”

Mixed hollering and roaring laughter come out from Tom and Sonny, who knock the snowman over entirely, plopping into the pile of snow with your brothers frantically trying to reach it while skidding over the ice before them.

“Be careful, you guys!” You shout back, stifling back your laughter as Dante slides over a strip of ice, landing in the snow himself.

“Mama, daddy’s here, daddy’s here!” Niccolò rushes up to you, tugging at the sleeve of your coat.

“He is?” A sudden flush of blush trickles into your cheeks as you look up from where your son is pointing.

Just around the corner from the backyard where all of you are, you pick up the sound of footsteps crunching over snow. You find Michael making his way over from the corner of the other side of the residence; his presence meaning his final business call has ended, but with his formal attire of a clean, black suit rather than any winter outerwear, it also signifies he’s not here to play.

Picking up on the hint themselves, Sonny, Tom, and your brothers pause their wrestling about in the snow, beginning to sit up and quiet down out of respect as Michael is about to turn the corner over to where the rest of you are in sight.

With both hands in the pockets of his dress pants, Michael walks across the playground and is careful not to step in any large chunks of snow.

“Daddy!” Niccolò can’t hide the excitement in his voice as he and Verona drop their snowballs, rushing over to Michael, who is now in everyone’s line of sight.

Michael immediately raises his head, his stern, fixed expression upon the snow softening at the sight of the little twins approaching him giddily.

You have to admit to yourself that when you first met Michael and were getting to know him through your courtship, no matter how much time you spent with him or whatever you observed, you never could pinpoint what kind of a father he would be.

Naturally, you never asked yourself or even had to think twice about if having children was out of the question. You were twenty-five years old at the time and almost a solid five years into your career. While there was no apparent rush, you didn’t see a reason to wait either. You knew Michael wanted to have children right away, and you had no objections to it yourself.

The birth of the twins would be the second strongest commitment with Michael following your marriage, and throughout the entirety of your pregnancy, fatherhood on Michael still remained to be a mystery.

He was extra gentle with you during your pregnancy and stopped having sex with you at the six-month mark for your comfort and health. There was never a night you went to bed where Michael didn’t kiss your baby bump or massage your sore back until you fell asleep by his side. He was constantly alert throughout your pregnancy, and the slightest thing would irk him if he felt it would threaten your comfort.

You had always felt he would be an incredible father—loving, caring, protective, just as he was as a husband to you. Outside of your personal relationship, Michael was known as Don Michael Corleone, and he both worked and lived in a world that had expectations for his ruthlessness and brutality.

After all, Michael had succeeded his father and became his perfect successor in every way and much farther beyond. He was a stern businessman, a cold mafia boss, a cunning man who calculated each step and decision he’d make, never known to have second thoughts, but with you, he was not.

Michael did not treat you like a financial asset, nor did he talk to you like a business partner. His vulnerabilities and emotions are shown to you and you only. A private, intimate side of him unlocked a completely different man—one you were in love with and still continue to fall for to this day.

When Niccolò and Verona were born, Michael didn’t spend as much time with them as you did. He still didn't neglect his roles as a father on business trips, calls, meetings, and so forth throughout his day. He spent every bit of his free time with you and the twins, and his mind was constantly on them at work.

He had warmed your heart when you snuck up behind him that night, watching him bottle-feeding the twins, checking up on them when he heard the first sound of restlessness. You saw what a gentle and loving father he was with your babies resting their heads upon his chest as he hummed quietly to them, pacing around the room and patiently waiting for them to fall asleep in his arms.

As a mafia Don, you honestly didn’t expect Michael to spend as much time as he did with the twins, and especially as they got older. You were wrong. As the twins got older, began to learn how to speak, and took their first steps, Michael continued to spend as much time as he could with them.

The two of you spent ample time talking in both English and Italian, teaching the twins both languages as fluently as possible, living with both traditional Sicilian customs and modern, Americanized life like you were used to.

Michael’s stern expression, serious disposition, and cold, straightforward attitude is, without a doubt, not for his family. You notice even from where you stand how Michael’s hardened eyes melt at the sight of his children rushing up to greet him, making your heart swell up in joy.

“Father, welcome back!” Verona bubbles as she and Niccolò approach him.

“We missed you, daddy!” Niccolò hugs Michael’s waist. “We were waiting for you!”

“You were waiting for me?” Michael peeks down at the two, a smile growing on his face that causes the blush to flush deeper upon your cheeks.

“Yeah!” Verona exclaims, “we were having a snowball fight with uncles!”

“And? Who won?” Michael leans down, scooping both twins up into each of his arms as he begins to walk off towards you.

Lorenzo clears his throat, rising to his feet from the snow as he begins to clean it off his coat, lending a helping hand up to Tom.

“Well…” Niccolò gazes back at the perfectly intact snow forts, giving a shrug and giggling. “We don’t know!”

“Don Corleone, welcome.” Lorenzo greets out as Michael makes his way up to you. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Lorenzo.” Michael nods back at him, setting the twins down carefully. “Eventful snowball fight, I take it?”

“You have no idea.” Tom stifles a laugh, looking down at Sonny, who waves back at Michael, exhaling deeply and relaxing in his pile of snow.

“Welcome back, Mike! No more fancy business calls during Christmas Eve, eh?”

“Mio amore, welcome.” You blush back at him as he laces a hand with yours, giving it a warm squeeze.

“No more, no more!” Verona hugs Michael’s free arm, gazing up at him happily. “Daddy stays for Christmas! Rimarrai, papà? Rimarrai?” (Will you stay, dad? Will you stay?)

Michael chuckles down at Verona, ruffling her hair, “certo che lo faro.” (Of course, I will.)

“They want you to join them, you know.” You smile back at Michael shyly, “we’ve all been having a blast here with their snowball fight.”

“That son of yours is something special, Don Corleone.” Leonardo puts his hands up in surrender, grinning. “Takes after both his father and his uncle over here, eh?” He gestures to Sonny, “he’s competitive. He’s got all his moves planned out.”

“Is that so?” Michael glances back down at Niccolò, who nods back happily. “But you don’t know who won?”

“I’d like to say we did.” Tom gestures out to the destruction of the snowmen and lumps of snow thrown back at your brothers’ side.

“Not fair, not fair!” Dante giggles back out.

“That’s enough out of you, Mr. Lawyer.” Alessio points a finger back at Tom jokingly.

“Hey, don’t make knock back more snowmen than I have to!” Sonny tosses over a pile of snow back at Alessio.

“You can join us and play, right, daddy? Please?” Niccolò glances back at the two of you.

“Michael…” You grin back at him, shrugging your shoulders.

“La famiglia Corleone vincerà, right?” (The Corleone family will win, right?) Michael exchanges a look with you before redirecting his attention to Niccolò. “What were you doing, Verona?”

“Preparing the snowballs!” Verona scoops up a small pile of snow in between her mittens.

“See, you’ve got your support from your sister, so…” Michael kneels down, whispering to Niccolò as he points back at the Ferrari brothers’ snow fort. “Simply attacking them isn’t enough. You have to take them by surprise, and you have to take what they value the most. Their fort.”

“Their fort.” Niccolò gasps quietly.

“Uh oh…” You peek back at a clueless Dante, clasping your mitten over your mouth to hold back your laughter.

“Exactly. Once you crush it, it’s yours.” Michael pats at Dante’s back, “now go and show them whose Don.”

“But daddy, you’re the Don.” Niccolò pouts back. “You have to do it.”

“Okay.” Michael gives out an airy laugh, “then watch closely, alright? Alright.” Michael rubs your arm reassuringly before beginning to walk off towards the Ferrari snow fort, looming over your brothers.

His eyes narrow and immediately become cold as he delivers a full force kick to the fort, cracking it into two as the snow crumbles on both sides and falls to a lump. “This snow fort has officially been seized by the Corleone family.”

“Oh—” Dante spits back, trying to get the snow out of his face as Alessio and Leonardo burst out laughing, all putting their hands up in surrender.

“Don Corleone! Don Corleone!” You cheer out, clapping your hands in unison with Tom and Sonny. “It’s ours now!”

“Yay!” Verona jumps up and down. “The fort is ours!”

“It’s ours! We won!” Niccolò hollers, “abbiamo vinto!” (We won!)

A faint smile crosses over Michael’s lips as he turns around, brushing off flakes of snow off his suit. You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as Sonny and Tom join in on the cheer, beginning to also wipe off the excess snow and start heading towards the house.

“Clean up and try not to trek any snow inside, alright?” You place a hand on each of the twins’ shoulders, gesturing them inside. “Do you want to help your aunties with the gifts?”

“Yes, mama!”

“Are there more gifts?!”

“Of course there are. Why do you think your father was away the whole time?” You wink at them as they squeal giddily, bursting into the house with their uncles, leaving only you, Michael, and Lorenzo behind.

“Hey, Victoria!” Lorenzo calls out, taking a step next to Michael. “You head on in, alright? Don Corleone and I are just going have a word.”

“Oh.” You look back, stepping into the doorway. “Alright! We’ll be finishing up with the Christmas tree then! Don’t be too late!”

Lorenzo waves you off as the door closes shut, leaving the two of them alone in the backyard. They can make out the faint silhouettes of the twins, Sonny, Tom, Dante, and the others heading back into the living room through the windows, and Lorenzo waits until he can’t pick up on the sound of their chatter any longer.

Michael doesn’t budge nor react much to Lorenzo’s dismay, knowing the two don’t actually have anything to discuss today, business, or otherwise, on a family holiday. Still, he doesn’t give Lorenzo the confused or surprised reaction he was initially looking for.

“Walk with me if you will, Michael.” Lorenzo gestures outward with his hand, beginning to walk around the residence complex.

“I’d prefer if we spoke about matters in my office outside of family time.” Michael straightens out the cuffs of his suit jacket.

“If it was a matter of business, sure, but it’s not. We can speak freely as brothers-in-law, can’t we?” Lorenzo glances back at him, ignoring the security by the guest compound as he pushes open the back entrance door.

“Certainly.” Michael steps inside with Lorenzo, entering the foyer of the empty Ferrari residential complex.

“I have to say…” Lorenzo shrugs off his grey overcoat, hanging it over the coat rack. “My eldest, Bruno, is five years old as well, yet I see nothing but mass differences when I compare him to my nephew, Niccolò.”

Michael simply stares back, unphased. “Perhaps so.”

“I’m impressed, Don Corleone.” Lorenzo chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he plops down upon one of the armchairs. “Please, sit down with me.”

Michael makes his way over, hiking up a little of his dress pants over his knees as he takes a seat, intertwining his fingers together and locking a stern gaze over at Lorenzo.

“It’ll always be different between you and me. That’s a given.” Lorenzo reaches into his inner suit pocket, taking out his lighter and cigarette pack. “You’re Don, I’m not.”

“Have you been named successor?” Michael crosses his leg over his knee.

“I have.” Lorenzo nods slowly, pulling out a cigarette and putting it between his lips as he offers Michael the pack.

Michael takes one out for himself, leaning in as Lorenzo lights his first before his own.

Lorenzo inhales at his newly lit cigarette, leaning his back against his seat. “But you know these days that isn’t enough. I love my father, but…” Lorenzo breathes out the smoke, “it’ll take time.”

“Don Ferrari is a good man,” Michael notes, beginning to smoke his cigarette.

“Yeah, well, let’s cut out the bullshit.” Lorenzo murmurs, “I don’t want to spend any more time on small talk than I have to. You know why we’re here.”

“No, I don’t.” Michael’s cold eyes stare back at Lorenzo. “You could elaborate.”

“Victoria.” Lorenzo exhales deeply, looking back down at the burning tip of his cigarette. “Victoria, Victoria…my beloved sister, your wife, mother to your Niccolò, Verona, so forth, so forth…” He pauses for a moment, “top prosecutor of New York…” His eyes land back on Michael’s, “living in Nevada.”

Michael immediately picks up on what the conversation is about, already having sensed an air of tension between Lorenzo from the way he forms and ends his words down to his unfriendly body language.

“Do you have a problem with the way Victoria lives?” Michael takes a short drag from his cigarette.

“What I’m wondering is, does it matter if I do?” Lorenzo leans his elbow down against the armchair. “Her life has changed drastically. She’s my only sister, so naturally, I’m observant. I’m curious.” Lorenzo taps his cigarette off upon the ashtray. “I don’t live down here in Nevada, Don Corleone. My territory is Long Island, as you know. Now, if I have to clean up your mess down there from time to time, so be it.” He shrugs his shoulders, “we’re family, we’re business partners, it’s that simple. What I’m saying is that I don’t want to have another pair of eyes and ears here.”

“You’re concerned about Victoria,” Michael states out plainly.

“How could I not be?” Lorenzo holds the cigarette back up to his lips. “She’s married to the most powerful mafia boss in America, daughter of the second most powerful—you might as well paint a target on her back, bright red.”

Michael leans up in his seat, his eye contact never wavering. “And for the past four years, have you seen that so called target hit?”

“Did your promises of safety just start four years ago, Don Corleone?” Lorenzo slips his cigarette back in his mouth.

Smoke trickles out of Michael’s mouth as he ignores the ashtray, letting the flakes trickle down upon the floor. He lowers his tone, all sense of emotion escaping it. “You should speak plainly when you talk to me, Lorenzo Ferrari.”

“She’s my sister.”

“She’s my wife,” Michael replies. “You have no faith in me?”

“Could I put my faith in a man who lets his wife walk outside with a bruise upon her face?” Lorenzo gestures to his cheek.

“You should, as the man who laid a finger on her is dead and has been for many years.” Michael continues smoking. “So, your concerns are irrelevant and have been for the past four years.”

“Huh.” Lorenzo scoffs, glancing over to the side momentarily as a frustrated smile forms over his lips. He takes another deep inhale of his cigarette, facing Michael again. “Alright, I see how it is. You’re going to shoot down every so called ‘concern’ that I have in the name of finding a solution, but you’re ignoring what I’m trying to get at.”

“That’s because you’re getting at nothing.” Michael muses, letting the cigarette ashes fall once more, “there is no ‘concern,’ there’s nothing. Have you considered talking to Victoria about this?” He doesn’t wait for Lorenzo’s reply. “Of course, you haven’t. Your sister is thirty years old, and she was New York’s top prosecutor—yet for some reason, you believe you need to keep chasing after her? A grown woman, married with children? No, you don’t. I refuse to insult you by assuming that you do.” Michael leans back. “This is personal.”

“When is it not personal, Michael?” Lorenzo rolls his eyes. “You know what is personal? Taking my sister all the way out here, changing her life—”

“Victoria’s life changed the moment she decided to marry me.” Michael interrupts. “Her decision, not yours, not anyone else’s. You may have misunderstood me. Just because she’s married to me, and a part of my family doesn't mean she isn’t a powerful woman on her own. I never took that away from her, just as I’ve never heard a complaint from her.”

Lorenzo almost sends the ashtray flying as he quickly scrunches and crushes up his cigarette, pointing an accusing, angry finger back at Michael. “You’re going to get her killed.”

“She would have died almost five years ago if that was the case.” Michael doesn’t flinch, flatly stating in a monotone voice as he puts his cigarette back into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lorenzo brushes off his comment, “you already have quite the history with dead wives, don’t you? That Apollonia in Sicily? Blew herself up into pretty little pieces? How long did that take you, huh? A year? Two?”

Michael’s lifeless, cold eyes burn back into Lorenzo’s, both physically and emotionally unmoved by any of his comments. “For a man who's about to become the second most powerful Don in America, you should be thinking about your own wife and five children, Lorenzo Ferrari. Not mine.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Lorenzo forces back a fake smile, slowly rising to his feet. “I have to tolerate you, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you. I’d rather get along with you, honestly, and I may have to for Victoria’s sake.”

“I’m not Victoria’s mouthpiece.” Michael’s eyes look up at Lorenzo, exhaling out a small stream of smoke. “She can speak for herself, and she can make decisions on her own. There is no need for you to come to me if you’re concerned about her, as I have given you no reason to be.”

“Really?” Lorenzo furrows his brows.

“Yes, really.” Michael begins to stand. “You appear to be living in the past, Lorenzo. Everything you mention happened five or more years ago. That isn’t a desirable trait in the future, Don. Surely, you see the irony. I wonder if your father does.”

Michael’s words hit Lorenzo like a knife to the heart. He remains still, his eyes locked on the emotionless Don—the epitome of cruelty—who found each and every way to stab Lorenzo back with his own words and concerns.

“One day…” Lorenzo lowers his voice, gesturing back to Michael with his finger. “I will be Don Ferrari, and at that point, you will not be able to convince me with your honeyed words about my concerns over Victoria. If Victoria is ever put in any danger, if she’s ever hurt—she may have to make a choice.”

“Yes.” Michael lets his cigarette fall to the floor, immediately stepping over it firmly as the last bit of smoke trickles out from between his lips, surrounding Lorenzo. “She may have to lose a brother.”

~

Michael enters the bedroom, ignoring the sounds of awe and giddy chatter made downstairs on the other half of the residence. Half of the family is split in the living room, adding the last touches to the Christmas tree, organizing the several dozen stacks of gifts, or adding new ones while the others remain in the kitchen, busy whisking up the last meals for Christmas dinner.

Michael’s so-called “business meeting” earlier while you, your brothers, and the kids were out fooling around in the snow was merely an excuse not to spoil the surprise to the twins that Michael had been buying and placing more gifts under the Christmas tree.

The entire time he was at the residence, making sure the last of everything he purchased and ordered was there and in one piece as Mama Corleone and he wrapped it up in decorative paper and tried to blend it around with the other gifts under the tree.

You knew this, but you didn’t think he also had other gifts for you—another part of his surprise unrevealed to you. Michael had joined everyone for Christmas breakfast bright and early in the morning, and he had also dressed Niccolò in his first suit, slicking his hair back as he insisted on matching his father.

This was the first time since Thanksgiving that Michael had seen the entire half of your family while knowing the Ferrari’s were coming to the decision that they wanted to visit the Lake Tahoe compound at least once a month. Ironically, neither you nor Michael saw your family as often in Long Island, New York, with such a small distance between the two of you.

That came as a reminder to Michael in the sense that he had spent much of his first year of marriage with you protecting you. He had begun protecting you since you met, and you had no idea until it became blatantly evident and unavoidable.

He had visited with your father and brothers numerous times both before and after your engagement ceremony to not only earn the Ferrari family’s blessings but also be in their good graces.

Michael had always liked your father. He knew Guiseppe Ferrari was a long time friend of Vito’s from Sicily. If their ties to history didn’t bond them, it was their sense of humor, their devotion to family, and their ambition for the same things that forged a lifelong friendship and business deal.

Don Ferrari was the only one who approached getting to know Michael on a positive basis. He had high hopes for Michael based on what he knew, not what he heard. He was a realist and never liked to judge. Michael murdering Sollozzo and McClusky only piqued his attention, because if anything, Don Ferrari wanted his daughter to marry a mobster, not a nobody.

Don Ferrari took an immediate liking to Michael the moment they met. Michael was a war hero but reserved in his own way. He still had his own personality and ambitions, but he was a mafioso as much as anyone. In Michael, Don Ferrari saw a young Vito—a future prodigy. He saw the way you reacted towards Michael, and he knew you felt the same. That was enough for him.

Don Ferrari remained proud over Michael as if he was his own son. He had only good things to say about and for Michael, and for each gain of power—big or small—for each rise in reputation—powerful or dangerous—Don Ferrari knew his daughter made the right decision for herself and that he had a fine son-in-law in every aspect.

Lorenzo was and is the opposite. Lorenzo, the eldest of the Ferrari boys, married with five children to a Sicilian immigrant himself, was the spitting image of all of his father’s personality traits except for his attitude, patience, and kindness. Lorenzo was Don material since he learned how to speak, but he was a skeptic, and his temper would mix in with his paranoia.

Lorenzo thought nothing about Michael for the longest time as he had assumed Sonny would nonetheless become the next Don Corleone. The news of Michael being named the next Don instead, as the youngest male in his family, rather alarmed Lorenzo, but he trusted the Corleone family to make the best decision for themselves.

Slowly, yet surely, it began to make sense why Michael was to be his father’s successor in every way and why you married him in the first place. Lorenzo blamed Michael for letting your name out to the media, although Kay was entirely to blame. He would have rather preferred you to be a part of the Ferrari family’s business dealings, not both—hence his fears of you being targeted by enemies of both families.

His initial worries had simmered off and proved your father right once more when Michael ordered the murders of almost every one of his enemies. The Barzini’s were left powerless, Moe Greene was out of the picture, and Don Alphonse Ricci’s life neither had the respect nor meaning to keep a mafia. Ricci was no longer a threat on any scale, and Michael kept him squandered for the sake of business, knowing he wouldn’t outlive his usefulness anytime soon.

Still, enemy after enemy, rival killed after rival. The Ferrari’s never had such trouble or were in any wartime feuds. It seemed to Lorenzo that Michael couldn’t keep the blood off his hands even if he tried. There was always something else. How could Lorenzo not worry for his sister? He didn’t believe you when you told him Michael was more transparent than ever with his business and dealings. Lorenzo had always thought nobody would be able to see through a man like Michael Corleone. Not even you.

A high level of dislike and distrust exists between the two. Regardless of how much respect Lorenzo had for the Corleone family when Vito was Don, he can never know the true Corleone way of running their family business. Hearing that Michael wanted you to get more involved was nothing but a red flag for him.

All in all, Lorenzo still has to worry about his own family and business relations with Michael in the future, once Don Ferrari passes away, and tension has already been spelled out beforehand. Unlike the rest of your brothers, Lorenzo can’t and refuses to pretend that he likes someone. He respects Michael as a Don and businessman, but certainly not as your husband.

Michael doesn’t care. He doesn’t take Lorenzo’s passive-aggressive attitude, “concerns,” or increasingly apparent dislike towards him seriously or to heart. He knows what he is—the most powerful and influential mafia boss in America, and he knows what he has—his sister as his wife.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Michael closes the bedroom door behind him, beginning to shrug off his black suit jacket and rest it over the armchair. He reaches over to the dresser, grabbing a cigarette from the pack and fishing out his lighter from his pants pocket.

Placing the cigarette in between his lips to the center of his mouth, Michael lights it up and takes a deep inhale, tossing the lighter down onto the armchair. Finally coming to a state of relaxation, Michael throws off his tie and begins to unbutton his dress shirt off—taking a brief moment to exhale out smoke before putting his cigarette back in his mouth.

Continuing to add to the pile of clothes upon the armchair, Michael approaches his closet shirtless, taking out a wine red dress shirt, a double-breasted taupe overcoat, and a matching cashmere scarf. He turns to face the mirror of your vanity, only leaving the first button of his shirt undone before grabbing on his coat.

He takes a small exhale from his cigarette before throwing his scarf over his shoulders, adjusting it, so both sides remain at the same length over his chest. He leaves his coat unbuttoned and open, running his comb over a few times through his neat, side-swept parted, and slicked hair—this time not gelled from front to back.

Michael finishes up his cigarette before he leaves, putting it out upon the ashtray before exiting the bedroom, now dressed for both the weather and out of winter relaxation. With his signature stern expression back over his face, Michael makes his way downstairs and to the other side of the residential complex, reaching the living room.

He stops for a moment, momentarily lingering by the doorway as he spots you out of the crowd first—dressed in a long-sleeved, knee-length peter-collar burgundy dress and a pair of Mary-Janes—matching with your daughter. You kneel down to height with the twins, each handing them red and green glass Christmas ornaments on velvet rope, pointing to an empty branch of the tree.

Sonny, Sandra, their twin girls, Tom, and Theresa, are the only others that remain in the living room as you hear a loud, collective chatter and the sound of plates and forks tinkling against each other in the kitchen.

Michael slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, gazing up at the massive, twinkling Christmas tree before him. Taking up the entire center of the living room, the real tree extends widely, trimmed perfectly on all sides. Covered in over two hundred pieces of fine ornaments ranging in globes, icicles, snowflakes, and finials, a red and gold velvet ribbon trails equally throughout the decorations.

A small trail of twinkling lights snakes throughout the tree from to bottom, complementing the silver berry pick accents added alongside the ribbon. A matching crimson and gold velvet Christmas skirt covers the floor where the tree stands upon and where the several dozen stacks of Christmas presents remain. All the tree is missing is its topper.

Michael takes a step in, immediately attracting Sonny’s twin girls, Francesca and Kathryn, in matching white lace dresses. “Hi, Uncle Michael!”

“Mike.” Sonny grins back at him as Sandra gives a little wave, adjusting new gifts to the stacks with Theresa.

“Hey, Mikey.” Tom turns back, smiling.

“Hello.” Michael greets out with a nod, his eyes meeting yours as you and the twins turn around.

“Michael…” You blush red—your eyes immediately darting up and down at his change of clothing matching with your dress.

“Daddy!” Verona exclaims, carefully clutching onto her glass ornament.

“Daddy, we’re decorating the tree!” Niccolò points up to the branches.

“Are you now?” A faint smile curls up on the corner of Michael’s lips as he enters the living room—his eyes softening as they remain on you.

“We just need the topper.” You chuckle, reaching into the bottom of the ornament box to pull out a glittering, gold star.

“How are we going to reach up there, mama?” Verona pouts, noticing the major height difference.

“Well—” Just as you turn your head back to peek up at the very tip of the Christmas tree, you gasp softly, feeling Michael’s strong grip over both of your hips as he hoists you up with ease, holding you up to the Christmas tree.

“Oh my God.” Theresa giggles out, raising her head and watching Michael raise you upwards. “Careful up there, Victoria!”

“Like this, darling.” Michael keeps his careful grip over you as you reach out with your arms, blushing at his touch by your hips as you carefully position the star topper.

“Mommy’s flying!” Verona squeals.

“There we go!” You grunt, assured it’s perfectly in place and unmoved.

“Careful, mama!” Niccolò takes a step back as you lean back down.

Michael hoists you back into his arms, scooping you down bridal style. “Not to worry, I got her.”

“Thank you, mio amore.” You come face to face with Michael, smiling shyly through your blushing, rosy cheeks as he sets you down. “That’s that!”

“Now that’s a damn good-looking Christmas tree.” Sonny straightens out his suit jacket with a grin. “Let the pretty thing stay up until after New Year’s, eh?”

“Well, we went into all that trouble!” Sandra laughs, gesturing to you. “Victoria, Victoria! Come on, mama’s still waiting for us in the kitchen!”

“Alright, alright!” You turn back to the twins, pointing out of the living room. “Head on over to the dining room you two, Grandpa Vito and Giuseppe, are waiting, okay?”

“Okay, mama!” The twins beam back at both you and Michael as they skip their way out, Francesca and Kathryn following out.

“See you at dinner?” You shyly glance back at Michael.

“And after.” He leans in, planting a small kiss upon your forehead. “I haven’t been able to spend any time with you all day.”

“I know, mio amore.” You whine quietly, silently gesturing to Sandra and Theresa that you’ll be joining them in a moment as they begin to leave with Tom and Sonny. “It’s been such a rush tonight, hasn’t it?”

“You don’t have to apologize, darling.” Michael wraps an arm around your waist, “you’ve been running around all day preparing the gifts and Christmas dinner with the children—what’s to apologize for?”

“We’ve finally got the whole family together, haven’t we?” You giggle back, “I just want everything to go perfectly tonight, and speaking of—is everything alright?” You raise your brows, “with you and Lorenzo?”

“Everything’s fine.” Michael half-lies, brushing it off. “I told him matters of business are best discussed outside of family time.”

“I agree.” You nod back, walking out towards the kitchen with him. “Lorenzo is a bit eager these days—you know since father named him his successor.”

“And what do you think?” Michael raises a brow, stopping right before the dining room.

“Nothing in particular—Lorenzo is the eldest after all, and he very much takes after my father.” You explain back to him, “I support him wholeheartedly, but father isn’t retiring anytime soon, if at all.”

“I take it that he’s not a very patient man.” Michael slides his scarf off of his shoulders, holding it.

“He’s your exact opposite, actually, but I wouldn’t worry about it.” You smile back at him, placing both of your hands upon his chest gently. “I know the two of you get along perfectly fine, and no doubt father will mention it again at the table, you know, business aside and all that.”

“Of course.” Michael presses his lips into a fine line, noticing how naïve and oblivious you are to the truth of their actual relationship. “I look forward to it myself.”

“Perfect.” You lean in, feeling a flare of butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you kiss him gently. “See you at dinner, mio amore?”

“At dinner.” He murmurs back against your lips, squeezing at both of your hands.

Michael lets his fingers slide through yours as he makes his way off to the dining room. You linger by, waiting for him to be completely out of your sight before entering the kitchen, simply unable to get enough out of his casual sexiness dressed down for Christmas Eve dinner.

“There she is! Come on in, honey!” Your mother peeks out, gesturing for you. “We’re just about finished!”

“Victoria! Come on in, you know it’s just us girls running the show here.” Connie exclaims out with a warm smile, looking over her shoulder.

“Deanna didn’t show?” You ask, not that you don’t know the answer or particularly care.

Theresa rolls her eyes, almost relieved at the thought. “Deanna doesn’t cook or anything like that. She’s at the table with Fredo.”

“You know how she can be.” Your mother brushes off the thought.

“Oh, forget Deanna—don’t you guys remember what just happened in there?! If only you saw, mama.” Sandra throws her head back in laughter, nudging her. “Michael had her flying all the way up to the top of the Christmas tree.”

“What a showoff my brother is, eh?” Connie pulls on a pair of mittens, popping open the oven.

“Oh, he wasn’t showing off.” Theresa winks, handing you a tray filled with various, large platters of salads. “Did you see the way he was holding her?”

“Oh, dear.” Mama Corleone chuckles, pulling out a batch of homemade eggnog from the fridge. “This kind of talk during Christmas Eve?” She exchanges a glance with your mother—the two of them chuckling.

“Girls!” You flush red, holding firmly onto the salad tray. “Mama’s right, you know.”

“No, no! Look!” Sandra gestures to her hands, imitating Michael’s grip over your hips. “Oh yeah, those firm hands, rubbing right down on her waist—”

“Sandra!” You whine out playfully, feeling embarrassed by the recollection. “I won’t be hearing any of this! We have food to serve!”

“You’ll be feeling it, though!” Connie calls out behind you as the girls erupt in teasing laughter.

You grin to yourself, rolling your eyes and steadily holding the tray before you, carefully walking into the dining room. As soon as you approach the doorway, you notice almost everyone has taken their seats, chatting away quietly.

Your eyes naturally notice your husband first, out of reaction and severe attraction. Michael sits upright in his seat, sipping at a glass of water as he nods, listening to a story your father is telling with Vito.

Next to him remains a small bowl of pomegranate seeds he reaches his free hand into, causing you to blush furiously and quickly look away.

The two front ends of the table are reserved for Don Ferrari and Vito, and the seats are arranged so that the men remain next to each other on one side and the women on the other across from each other.

The only exception to this remains that Deanna sits next to Fredo, already concerning him based on the look upon his face since she’s halfway through chugging an entire glass of wine.

The children, including your twins, eat separately at a smaller family table just across from the grand family table, supervised by the household nanny, Esther, who otherwise remains quiet and to her duty.

Michael notices you the moment you step in with the salad trays, and for the sake of not tripping over something or sending a platter flying, you avoid eye contact with him. Furiously blushing, you carefully make your way over to both sides of the table, hearing the girls follow behind you.

You set down a platter of salad throughout the center of the table, unable to deny the hunger gnawing at your stomach.

All homemade, fully Italian dishes, the salad platters start off with acquasla—an Italian twist on a classic Caesar salad. The second, insalata di rinforzo, is a hearty salad filled with pickled and fresh vegetables, olives, and anchovies. Lastly, one of your favorites is a Caprese salad with fresh slices of mozzarella, dressed over in olive oil.

You’d already spent half of the day with the girls cooking away in the kitchen at various recipes with even wilder portions than you’ve ever cooked before. Still, at the very sight of all the cooked food arriving on trays, you come to surprise yourself with the delicious, hearty view.

Italian spaghetti and meatballs—a staple and Michael’s favorite meal as one of the main dishes for tonight is served alongside lasagna, focaccia—Italian flatbread, gnocchi served with fresh mussels, melanzane alla parmigiana—Italian style aubergines, minestrone soup, and arancini—Sicilian style rice balls you cooked yourself complimenting the stuffed Turkey placed upon the center of the table.

The rest of the table is scattered with various finger foods and smaller plates of sliced cheese, salami, and other meats and is complete with your home recipe of espresso cannoli—sprinkled with roasted almonds and honey.

You and the girls are quick to serve, stacking the trays upon each other and setting them aside as soft conversation is made about the variety of the food. Michael’s eyes land directly on the cannoli and dart back and forth to the arancini—immediately able to spot out your cooking amongst the dozens of other selections.

As you regrettably pour another glass of wine for Deanna, you and Connie work to fill everyone’s glass halfway, having to reach for a third bottle of wine as Mama Corleone and Sandra split the turkey. Theresa and your mother hand out napkins and place a few pairs of tongs and serving spoons by each platter of food.

The chatter at the table continues to grow louder as Esther and your mother work to get portions out for the children first as Francesca and Kathryn rise from their seats to help out with their niece’s and nephew’s plates.

“The hard part is over, eh?” Theresa nudges at you with her elbow, giving you a reassuring smile as the two of you take your seats.

“The hard part is going to be getting a piece of cannoli.” You grin back at her, already noticing Michael being the first to reach over.

Vito clinks the side of his dining knife against the rim of his wineglass, calming down the loud conversation from both sides of the table as a warm smile forms upon his lips. “Everyone, my children—if I could all have your attention.”

With voices quieting down and heads turned to face him, Vito rises from his seat as does your father—the two of them raising their glass of wine to each other. “Don Ferrari, I want to thank you today for joining your family with mine to come and celebrate Christmas as one. Our fifth Christmas together, united under one roof and one family that will always come to remind me of our friendship and business together.”

You can’t help but smile, clapping with everyone as your father beams back at Vito, thanking him back in Italian. “Grazie, grazie, Vito Corleone.”

“I extend my thanks to each and every one of you sitting at our family table tonight.” Vito places a hand over his chest, “from my children to my grandchildren, in-laws, family, and friends in between. I can think of nothing more harmonious.”

Vito continues, “how did things ever get so far? To be able to see my son at the pinnacle of success, honoring both of our families this Christmas Eve since that fateful day we bonded as one. What’s fortunate, and what was so graciously given to me was a daughter-in-law,” Vito gestures over to you with his hand, “and to you, my dear old friend, a son-in-law.” He points his wineglass back at your father.

You blush, lowering your eyes to the tablecloth as you can feel the gaze of the girls and your brothers over you as Vito directly mentions the familial bond with your marriage to Michael.

“I remember it as if it was yesterday, how Don Ferrari and I were not willing to let things go on the way they were before because we valued tradition, loyalty, and friendship. My dear friend…” Vito nods back at him.

“I am grateful to you, Vito, for over fifty years of friendship, from one continent to another. You have always been a man of your word and a modest one at that who listens to reason. I’ve never been happier to join our families, whether it be in the same bonds of friendship you and I have or through holy matrimony.” Don Ferrari raises his glass up with Vito, setting it down by his plate as the two families break into another round of applause.

Vito and Don Ferrari approach each other by the side of the table, joining in a hug as they chuckle, patting each other’s shoulders and making small conversation. You notice everyone around you shares the same warm sentiment—contagious grins upon everyone’s faces except for Deanna, who dumbfoundedly gazes at the table.

Your eyes momentarily meet up with Michael, locking into eye contact. Blush stings back at your cheeks as you can hear the laughter in your father and Vito’s voices as they begin to head back to their seats. You and Michael are the direct links to bonding the two families together after all through your marriage.

You smile back at Michael, whose eyes soften although he doesn’t return the same expression. Instead, he looks upon you with an assured, admiring sentiment until you turn your head back to face your father from the strain of butterflies twisting inside of you.

“Merry Christmas from the Ferrari family.” Your father proudly gestures over at you and your brothers.

“And from the Corleone’s.” Vito proclaims as everyone raises their wine glasses in unison before taking the first sip.

Chatter continues to commence again as portions are spread out throughout plates, platters passed around, and silverware tinkling against each other as another glass of wine is popped. You happily clink your glass with the girls who are indulged in a conversation about the upcoming New Year’s party and their proposed New Year’s resolutions.

“Now, I’ve never been one to refuse taking up a good New Year’s resolution myself, but…” Sandra swallows down her wine, holding her hand up.

“Stop. Stop…” Connie looks back at her, covering her mouth as she bursts out into laughter.

“Oh no,” you giggle back quietly, “is it the same one as last year?”

“It’s too hard. I can’t do it.” She sighs back dramatically. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, it’s too big—”

“Sandra!” Theresa hisses out quietly, biting her lip to hold back her own laughter. “I mean, he’s right there!”

“So?” Sandra smirks, resting her elbow upon the table as she turns her head to Sonny, in the middle of explaining something to Tom. “Santino!”

Sonny cuts himself off mid-conversation, glancing back at Sandra, which also alerts your brother Leonardo to look over as well. You ignore Sandra’s teasing to Sonny across the table, intrigued by the look in your brother’s eyes as he gazes over at Connie.

Catching her off guard as well, Connie slowly lowers her wineglass, immediately taking a shy disposition from her now naturally crude and charming behavior. She parts her lips open as if to say a word as you see the blush trickle into her rosy cheeks.

Leonardo’s gaze upon her is polite yet filled with a clear-cut attraction and adoration towards her, giving her a small smile as Connie turns her head away, unable to hide her own.

“Connie…” Your eyes dart down from her and back to your brother, who smiles back at you, giving his shoulders a slight shrug as he returns back to the conversation with the boys.

“Now there’s someone who’ll give Merle Johnson a run for his money.” Theresa munches on a piece of turkey, noticing Connie shifting in her seat.

“What? He’s cute, that’s all.” She murmurs back, glancing back at you as if she’s seeking approval.

You raise your brows back at her as the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. “Yes, Connie, he’s single, but you should talk to him instead.”

~

Christmas Eve of 1954 comes to an eventful end filled with the warmth, laughter and joy shared between your two families over dinner and soft conversation, looking forward to the new year ahead of you for what 1955 will bring.

Marking the end of another year with memories honored in your ever-growing photo album, another photograph is added of this year’s Christmas dinner table, as well as everyone huddled together and holding the kids by the family table for a perfect shot. The snowball fight from earlier, the snowmen Niccolò and Verona built and happily posed next to, a photo of you under the snow fort with the twins, Sonny and Tom, another photograph of the Christmas tree with and without the massive pile of presents piled up underneath, and one of the family all together again by the Christmas tree.

That last photograph with family by the Christmas tree was one of your favorites. You held Verona in your arms as Michael stood next to you, holding Niccolò—a ghost of a smile upon his lips whereas he had remained completely still and emotionless in the other photographs.

Reaching the end of Christmas 1954’s photographs came down to an image of you, Michael, and the twins by the Christmas tree, this time capturing a rare full smile upon Michael’s face as all four of you gave beaming smiles for the camera.

The second last shot consisted of Michael and you alone by the tree and fireplace, his arm wrapped around your waist and your hand over his chest—both smiling. That one made your heart skip a beat no matter how many times you gazed at it, holding the spot of clear favorite.

Lastly, marking the end of the holiday season, another photograph of Michael and you under the mistletoe hung upon the doorway, facing each other. His hands were lovingly wrapped around your hips, and you placed both of yours upon his shoulders, gazing up at him with a picture-perfect smile as he gazed down at you—a gentle expression without a smile, but one nonetheless for the sake of memory.

Now alone in the kitchen, you hum quietly to yourself over the stove as you continue to stir at the pot of hot chocolate before you. You raise up your spoon, taking a small yet cautious sip as you stir again, deciding to add in another spoonful of sugar.

Michael awaits you in the living room, lounging upon the armchair by the fireplace and Christmas tree, reading a copy of The Art of War. With the festivities of the evening over, everyone has retired to their rooms and sides of the complex to spend the rest of the night, leaving some much-needed alone time for the two of you.

As both of you remain preoccupied for the time being, the illumination of the fireplace trickling out into the hallway attracts your daughter Verona’s attention. Already unable to sleep due to the excitement of Christmas morning, Verona rubs at her eyes, pulling aside her blanket as she slips out of bed.

Tired from spending all the bouts of energy she had during the snowball fight with her uncles, Verona had no time to show her father the little doodle she came up with after dinner, drawing with her cousins.

It’s the first thing she scoops up from her dresser, reaching up on her toes and clutching it close to her. The drawing consists of her and Niccolò standing side by side, all stickmen as Michael is drawn taller, holding you up in his arms to reach the top of the scribbled Christmas tree from earlier to place the star topper.

Awfully proud of her artistic skills and already under the belief her father is a superhero in the making, Verona peeks her little head out of her bedroom and glances around the quiet, empty hallway before heading towards the living room.

The pitter-patter of her feet hit the mahogany floors as she walks up to the doorway, peeking up at her father. Noticing a shadow and presence by the door, Michael raises his head up from his book to look.

Michael’s eyes widen slightly to see his daughter up so late, looking back at him with excitement in her eyes. “Daddy?”

“Verona?” Michael sets aside his book as she begins to approach him. “What are you doing up so late, sweetheart? You should be in bed.”

Verona shakes her head with a giggle, standing by the armchair and eagerly holding up the drawing in her arm. “Can’t sleep, daddy. I’m too excited.”

“Too excited?” Michael sits up in his seat, a smile forming over his face as he glances back at the overflow of gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

“I couldn’t…” Verona glances back down at her drawing, holding it in a way to hide the contents from her father. “I didn’t have time to wrap this for you, daddy, but…” She peeks up shyly, handing Michael the drawing. “I made dis for you.”

Michael raises his brows, taking the drawing from her with a chuckle. A warm smile paints over his lips at the colorful stickman drawing of him holding you up towards the Christmas tree. “You made this for me?”

“Mhmm!” Verona clasps her hands together in her leap, eager to see the full reaction of her father. “Do you like it, daddy?”

“I love it, darling.” Michael leans down, giving her head a little smooch. “You drew this earlier with your cousins?”

“Yes, daddy.” She answers back, glancing to the doorway. “Niccolò really liked it too. He said daddy is a superhero.”

“A superhero?” Michael glances down at the drawing, both amused by the irony but the thoughtfulness of his children and their creativity.

“I want to be a superhero too.” Verona grins back, nodding.

“Even superheroes need their rest, you know.” Michael sets aside her drawing on top of his book. “Otherwise, how are you going to open all those presents tomorrow?”

Verona gasps a little, giggling. “Then I have to go back to bed right away before mama comes.”

“Before mama comes…” Michael repeats with a soft laugh, nodding back at her. “She’ll tuck you back in, alright? Gotta go sleep that excitement and energy off, so you have enough for tomorrow.”

“Okay, daddy. Goodnight!” She leans up and in to hug her father.

Michael moves down to hug his daughter back as she giddily skips back off down to the hallway and to her bedroom, just in time as you turn off the stove, beginning to pour the hot chocolate into two mugs.

Leaving her bedroom door ajar and snuggling her way back into bed, Verona is all out of sight as you set aside the pot from the stove, taking both of the mugs and a small bowl of marshmallows before walking into the living room to greet Michael.

“Alright, here we are, mio amore…” You carefully hand him his mug before setting yours aside on the coffee table with the marshmallows.

“Thank you.” Michael holds the mug in one hand, lifting up Verona’s drawing with his free one. “Did you see this?”

“Oh, did Verona draw that?” Your eyes widen in surprise as you beam back at the drawing. “It’s adorable. Oh—wait a moment, is she still awake?”

Michael raises his mug up to his lips, adding back, “has she ever been able to sleep on Christmas Eve?”

“She takes after me.” You sheepishly admit, smoothening out the front of your dress. “I’ll go tuck her back in. You know—I couldn’t sleep a wink before our engagement ceremony or our wedding either.”

“So what’s your equivalent of a drawing then?” Michael sets it back down as you walk back to the doorway.

“Oh, I don’t know…” You graze your tongue against the front of your teeth, unable to hide your grin. “A photograph?”

“A photograph.” Michael leans back in his seat, nodding.

“That kind of photograph.” You clutch onto the doorway, “the kind I’ll show you when our families aren’t around to hear the aftermath of it.”

“Are you teasing me?” Michael lowers his mug.

“Your hot chocolate is going to get cold, mio amore.” You point back, ignoring his question on purpose. You hold back your giggles, heading off towards Verona’s bedroom, slightly push open the ajar door.

Taking a step in, you notice her still awake, stirring underneath the blankets to get comfortable. You approach the bed, sitting upon the edge as she turns over on her side, peeking back at you with the blankets pulled up to her chest.

“Hi, mama.”

“Hi…” You speak softly, caressing her cheek. “Someone’s still awake. Can’t sleep?”

Verona shakes her head. “Too excited.”

You chuckle, smoothening out her blankets. “Can’t wait to open up all those presents, huh?”

“So many.” She whispers back giddily. “Did you see my drawing?”

“Did I ever.” You lean in, planting a kiss upon Verona’s forehead. “It was beautiful. Your father and I loved it.”

“That’s my first Christmas drawing…” She holds back a yawn. “And then we get to open the presents tomorrow.”

“Mhmm, and it’ll take all morning, so you need all the rest you can get.” You lean in, planting a kiss upon Verona’s forehead. “You don’t want to be all sleepy in the morning, right?”

“Nuh-uh…” She shakes her head, yawning. “I’ll count sheep like daddy says…”

“How many sheep did it take last time?” You brush a curtain of her hair behind her ear.

“I think…” Verona pauses for a moment, her eyes half-open. “I think I counted forty sheeps…”

“Sheeps?”

“Sheepies…” She nods back. “I can tell you how many tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You kiss both of her cheeks. “Tell the sheepies I said ‘goodnight’ too.”

“Will do, mama… Goodnight.” Verona sleepily rubs at her eyes.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” You whisper back, “I love you very much.”

“I love you too, mama.” She gives you a lazy smile, curling up in bed as you quietly rise back up, making your way back towards the door.

Verona flutters her eyes shut, snuggled up peacefully between her blankets—her small nightlamp across the room dimly lighting a part of her bedroom. Leaving her door ajar once more, you take a peek inside of Niccolò’s bedroom just across from Verona’s, already finding himself snoozed away with his hair a fluffy and tousled mess.

You smile back to yourself, feeling at ease with your children safe and sound in bed. Giving out a small sigh of relief, you trail your hand down the wall as you continue down the corridor, making your way back towards the living room.

The crackle and light of the fireplace dance about in shadows against the walls as you return, now lingering shyly by the doorway as you find Michael lounging over the armchair. Two buttons of his wine-red dress shirt undone, his sleeves slightly rolled up past his wrists, and his watch gleaming by the illumination of the fire as he continues reading his book in one hand and holds his mug of hot chocolate in the other.

Without even realizing it, you find yourself nibbling upon your bottom lip. There’s nothing provocative about his stature or presence, yet a severe tug of arousal and attraction hit you all at once. How he manages to casually relax and be sexy at the same time, you’ll never understand.

Still, it’s one of the few times you see him out of his formal attire of three-piece, silk Italian suits. Throughout the holiday season at home, he’s worn nothing but sweaters, turtlenecks, knit shirts, and warm jackets with matching trousers.

He hasn’t fully slicked his hair back as he usually does for work and other business meetings, simply brushing it and parting it back or to the side with a little bit of gel. Relaxed, casual, formal, sophisticated or not, there could be no way you’d ever be able to peel your eyes off of him, even if you wanted to.

There have already been several times where you’ve caught him simply enjoying the rest of his night, indulge in anything but work or business matters even though you know (and are used to) Michael bringing business into everything at this point. You’ve been lucky enough to have your camera on you at those times, snapping those simple yet heart-throbbing photographs of him.

After all, he’s the one that took a close-up portrait shot of you and keeps it as the only photograph next to one of the twins side by side upon his office desk.

Michael has one knee crossed over the other, pondering back at the book as he raises his mug up to his lips to take a sip. The blush in your cheek warms as you take another few steps to approach and enter the living room, unable to explain to yourself about your sudden surge of shyness.

“Everyone’s all cuddled up and ready for bed now.” You take your mug off of the coffee table, coming up to Michael.

“Hope you’re not feeling tired yourself anytime soon. Come ‘ere…” Michael sets his book down, gesturing to his lap. “Come sit with me.”

Blushing, you carefully put down your mug next to his upon the coffee table before getting in his arms, snuggling about onto his lap as you extend your legs down with his. Michael relaxes his muscles, shifting in his seat to get comfortable with you as he wraps an arm around your back.

You cuddle up to his chest, immediately taking in the scent of his cologne as you nuzzle his neck. “Now it’s just you and me…”

“Mhmm.” Michael lets out a deep exhale, carefully handing you back your mug as he takes his. “I want to enjoy this moment. It’s going to be nothing but hectic for the next week or so again…” He gazes down at you as you slowly take a sip. “Can’t be helped, though.”

“You want me all to yourself?” You smile back at him with your eyes, picking out a marshmallow from the bowl and putting it up to his mouth. His lips coming into contact with your fingers as he munches down upon it doesn’t help your arousal.

“Mm. What can I say? Yes, I do. I’m selfish.” Michael murmurs back, halfway through his hot chocolate. “Just you, me, and…” You notice his eyes fall down to your stomach. “Hopefully, another little one.”

“Too early to say, mio amore.” You smile back shyly at him. “But very, very soon.”

Michael sets his mug down, pushing it aside and gently placing a hand over your stomach. “It’s been on my mind recently. Nothing could have prepared me for fatherhood, but still. It’s different. It’s changed me.”

“That it has.” You put your hand over top of his. “All for the better. It’s changed both of our lives.”

“Motherhood has and always will look good on you.” Michael laces his hand with yours as you continue drinking your hot chocolate. Michael caresses your cheek with the back of his hand—his gaze lovingly upon you as you set your mug aside, having finished the last of your sugary drink. “But you know that, don’t you?”

“You give me too much credit, mio amore.” You whine out softly, avoiding his eyes as butterflies strain in the pit of your stomach.

“Nonsense.” He mumbles against your temple, pressing a kiss upon it. “You’ve given me a beautiful family. I have much to be grateful for, holiday or not. And the gifts…” He gestures to the pile carelessly, “all mundane in comparison. It had me thinking earlier this morning, what do you get the woman whose given you everything? Who has everything?”

“Michael…” You gaze back into his chestnut, dark eyes—the flames of the fire reflecting in them as your heart begins to race in your chest.

“You give her a memory.” He locks eyes with you, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. “Because I want to preserve you like one, and because I don’t want the testimony of my commitment to you or our family to be through material gifts.”

“A memory…” You repeat, the smile upon your lips growing.

“Making memories is one thing, but preserving them…” Michael reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing a cigarette out of his pack with his lighter. “That’s another.”

“Do you remember when we first met?” You peek up at him shyly.

“Do I ever.” Michael puts his cigarette into the corner of his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. “That was neither the first nor last time I’d lay eyes on you, but I didn’t know then what would become of either of us.” You take his lighter, flicking it on for him to light his cigarette as he takes a long drag. “I always thought you could have said ‘no’ for any reason.”

“Couldn’t you?”

“I could, but it would have taken time.” He blows out his cigarette smoke to the side to avoid getting it over you. “I told you, a loveless marriage was not an option for me. It would have been unbearable, and that’s past the personal portion. I don’t run things like my father does in our family, and I understand that’s a problem for most.”

“You mean in terms of legitimacy?” You trace lazy circles upon his chest, looking up at him.

“Exactly.” Michael moves the ashtray closer to him upon the coffee table. “The Corleone family runs all the gambling in this country, but only to an extent, it’s legitimate. The needed legality is only in the contacts, the license, and the name. Our olive oil business in Sicily with your father remains to be the only legitimate business we have. The rest…” The two of you make direct eye contact, “is criminal.”

“That’s the reality.” You’re relatively unmoved, knowing if anything, it’s always been the same throughout your family. “That’s mafia.”

“That’s mafia.” He repeats, a flicker of amusement flashing in his eyes at your reaction. “That’s who I was before I met you and who you always were. Mafioso. Many don’t question how the underworld is run, but it’s hard to ignore when it embraces you at all sides.” Michael takes a small drag from his cigarette. “Even before I met you, you had everything. Power, influence, money. You didn’t want it, you didn’t care for it, but you’ve embraced it in different ways. You’ve lived a double life, but willingly.”

Michael kisses the top of your head softly. “You remind me of myself at times. In this life, you’re my opposite, but you’re also my reflection. I’ve never been able to explain it to myself, but I saw that in you, even then—all that time ago. And as time goes on, you remind me over and over again. Our fifth Christmas together, two children by our side—its memory. It’s all memory.”

“Memory…” You smile against his chest, warming up to the thought. “Just like in all of our photo albums together.”

“Just so. You’ll have a chance to see just what I mean for yourself tomorrow morning.” Michael pulls you further into his embrace as he tenderly rubs up and down your arm.

“You know what I would do to keep moments like this going forever.” He holds his cigarette up between his fingers. “I’d give everything because when I look at you, I don’t see bloodshed or violence. I see peace, I see my family, and I see my home. When they came for me…” Michael pauses for a moment, gazing deeply into your eyes. “They came at what I loved, and they succeeded. Security, guards, high walls—it’s nothing. It’s why I have to protect you, Victoria—always. Not just for my own selfish desire, but for our children, your father, and your family. You will never know that, and it’s only my wish that you never do. I’m telling you this because I love you. I always have.”

“I love you too, Michael.” Your breath hitches as you feel your bottom lip quiver, a rush of emotions soaring through you at the sound of his very words.

Michael chuckles back at you, noticing your ever-growing smile at the release of his emotions towards you. “You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”

Your eyes widen slightly as your rosy cheeks burn with blush. Michael’s eyes no longer flare with intensity or burn through your gaze but melt into yours with a gentleness you’ve rarely seen.

One that returned since you gave birth to the twins, crying out in pain and clasping at his hand for support, and from the consummation of your marriage as you felt his bare skin against yours for the first time, marking you as his.

Michael says nothing, understanding you in silence. Holding you in his arms, he places a hand over your thigh to keep you on his lap and the other intertwined with one another.

Lost in the hazy moment of gazing upon each other, as soon as Michael puts his cigarette back in-between his lips, you reach in and pull it out—quick to replace it with a kiss. You pull your hand back, putting it out behind you on the ashtray.

You can feel Michael smile against your lips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, joining him in a deep kiss. Your heart thunders as you feel your face stinging with blush from all sides, clutching onto Michael’s shoulders as the heated kiss turns feverishly desperate.

Michael's hands pull you in chest to chest from your hips, gradually beginning to shorten his kisses. The sound of the two of you kissing back and forth fills the room as you giggle, feeling the brush of his lips over yours tickling your mouth.

His hands rub up and down the sides of your body, applying just a slight amount of pressure to cause sparks of pleasure to fly through you as they reach your breasts and back down to your waistline.

Michael restrains himself at the thought of his family still up and awake at the complex, and the twins down the hall as his mind can only think of his growing desire to pin you against the armchair and strip your clothes off with his teeth.

Another rejoined the break between your last kiss as Michael gently cups your face in his hands, crushing his lips in unison with yours as your eyes flutter shut. You relax in the firmness of your embrace, allowing yourself to get lost in the depth of his affection returned to you.

As you kiss Michael, you feel all of him as if your hearts beat together as one. A shared sense of passion laced in a mutual longing for lust keeps your lips throbbing for more as you come to miss him each time he parts his mouth from yours.

“M-Michael…” Breathing out in-between, the touch of his chest against yours and his hands gently clasping at your face send fire coursing through your skin. Submitting to the dominance of his tongue with his kiss like honey, you both restrain yourselves in erotica but remain relentless in longing.

The familiar tugging sensation of unbearable arousal and wild attraction collide in you all at once as he slowly yet tenderly parts his lips away from yours. The two of you breathe out, unable to say a word to each other at the moment.

Completely and utterly flustered with your heart aching with desire to be within his embrace once more, you gaze up at Michael, mesmerized by your own emotions pulling yourself towards him.

Another smile breaks upon your lips as the tip of your nose comes into contact with his, and you find yourself unable to hold back your soft laughter ringing throughout the living room. The sight of his smile matching yours causes your heart to skip a beat, filled with an overwhelming rush of joy and emotions hitting you all at once.

The moment of sensual intimacy you share with Michael is the pinnacle of your preservation of memories. He leaves you breathless, kissing up and down your neck as you let out breathy giggles, rejoined in his warm embrace by the fire.

You’re surrounded by your loved ones, in the embrace of your husband, and knowing your children are safe and sound. Your family's bond is as strong as ever, united with the Corleone’s with nothing to share but the same happiness you’ve felt each and every time, resonating with you during the holiday season.

“Merry Christmas, mio amore.” You whisper back to him as he takes your hand in his.

With Michael’s hand laced with yours, aligning your wedding bands with each other, his tone is low and soft as he speaks back to you. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

With the clock striking just past midnight and within the embrace of your lover, Christmas Eve of 1954 comes to an end.

[elekinetic]

What part of the Star Wars sequels was your LEAST favorite and what is the thing you would change first in a rewrite

r3ylo. they so very very very badly dropped the ball with their relationship and their characters, specifically ben. oh my god. and listen listen listen, you had PERFECTLY GOOD LEGENDS CONTENT TO RECYCLE RIGHT THERE. i mean b3n solo is already a hodge podge of ben skywalker (luke's son) and jacen solo, so lets just fucking give him jacen's name and reskin rey as jaina solo, jacen's twin sister.

we give jaina rey's kindness, headstrong leadership, and reservation. we make her a little more jaded bc hello, her twin brother left their family and destroyed their uncle's temple to go become a sith lord. that would make anyone a little pessimistic.

we'd follow jaina, who works as part of the resistance under her mother, leia. standard child of divorce stuff: feels like she'll never live up to the expectations of her mother, longs for freedom outside of the diplomatic role she's been assigned, holds her mother to a higher standard than her dad (is it really an ella nancysglock idea if there aren't themes of strained daughterhood & motherhood?) jacen showed force sensitivity from a young age and got whisked off to train w uncle luke while jaina stayed with her mom and learned the politics. (imagine one of our opening scenes being jaina in full diplomatic getup on one of the republic planets, slipping out of a meeting and pulling off her robes, wiping off her makeup. she's just about to jump a balcony to sneak out when she hears a very familiar older female voice say, "you might as well walk out the front door if you're gonna be so obvious about sneaking out." leia. of course.) the first act of ep 7 finds jaina discovering her force-sensitivity. when she goes to find luke in ep 8 (a la rey), there's the added dynamic of "you never knew me as well as my brother" and luke seeing so much of his sister (and han to an extent) in jaina.

rey + ben's soul-bondy thing would be a twin sense thing for jacen and jaina (like what is vaguely established between luke and leia in the ot). luke + jacen would have even clearer narrative parallels (male twin luke brought to the light, male twin jacen brought to the dark). jacen would be a more sympathetic villain bc jaina's draw toward him and care for him are pre-established, as well as the reason their relationship is strained. we'd spend time throughout the trilogy unpacking their complicated dynamic via those soul bond vision communication things that started between r&b in tlj.

now im sure ur thinking, "but ella, one of the best themes of the sequels (which was terribly mishandled) was that you didn't have to be born into a special family to be a hero, that you can choose your family and make a difference no matter who you are!" to that i say: yes. 100%. which is why we're giving finn & poe actual storylines. the other big theme of the sequels is legacy, right. what does it mean to be a skywalker, a solo? thats why we see rey, a nobody, rise to heroism and take on the skywalker name while ben, who was born into the family, fall from grace and struggle with morality (in theory). i think we can do this better though. lets have jaina and jacen BOTH be born into the skywalker family (bc hey, it is the skywalker saga) and watch them struggle with light and dark. lets take that "dark rey" shit from tlj and push it further. lets see jacen seduced by the dark and pulled toward the light because he still cares about his sister. lets see jaina raised in the light and tempted by the freedom of the dark side.

lets also see jaina and finn choose each other as chosen siblings. lets see finn develop a real dynamic with jacen. (finn is a real protagonist in this as well, im just not talking about his role in the story as much in this post. but trust, he is a huge part of the story.) lets see more of leia & poe's mother/son dynamic. lets push those ben/poe parallels further.

tldr. replacing rey & ben with jaina & jacen solo so they're twins now. obviously no romance. finn & poe get bigger storylines and there are much deeper themes about family, chosen AND blood.