#it kind of. shifts the siblings' perceptions of him

[p-gio]

“Pinocchio, you are human..aren’t you?” Your whisper stirred the smog that crept through the air around you. Wide eyed, you observed him like a cornered lamb, curling a nervous hand into the fabric at your chest.

The question came as no surprise, if anything he’d anticipated it much sooner, which made it all the more disappointing for him to be so unprepared. His body flinched at its arrival as if it had raised to strike him.

Oh how he wished, for every breath he’s never taken, that he could tell you yes. And though it were in his best interest to deceive, Pinocchio refused to be named a liar. So he braced himself for the disgust that was sure to follow after he uttered the shamefaced reply, “No, but I look quite like one don’t I?”

The reveal shot down your spine, a quiet fear spreading through the branches of nerves.

He received not a huff of anger, nor a gasp of fright. Absent was that disgust he’d played over in his mind. He thought the silence to be worse somehow.

The puppet’s eyes narrowed, following your foot as it tucked behind the other. “Are you going to run now that you know I am not the same as you?” He didn’t sound hurt, accusatory seemed a better fit to place next to the sharpness of his stare. After the time spent in one another’s company, the only company that had entertained the word ‘safe’ thus far, perhaps he’d expected better.

Your muscles went rigid just as you’d shifted most of your weight onto that step, undecided if you were going to confirm his suspicion. The man wasn’t human, not like you in the slightest beneath the mask of human skin, he was the same as those who’d tried to sink their teeth into your bones as soon as they were offered.

If he wanted that too, however, he’d had ample opportunity to bare his jaws, and he hadn’t. Instead he’d protected you from his own kind, slaughtered them with a cold fury when they’d marked you as their next victim.

He’d saved your life many a time and never once turned around to undo it. Disgraceful, it would be, to write off the kindness he’s shown to you simply because a part of him strayed from your initial perception.

Your hand dropped from the front of your shirt to ease at your side, unsightly dents left behind where your fingertips had dug in. A tightness in your throat resisted swallowing the panic from the revelation about his being, but you let it pinch on the way down.

Then you saw it. The fragility behind that guarded stare of his, fixed on yours while he waited patiently for you to make up your mind, there was something human about it, even now that you knew otherwise.

It’s possible you were only seeing what you wanted to, but it’s difficult to argue with your eyes, unequivocally convinced it was there. Something as susceptible to hurt and wanting of connection as a real person would be. He wasn’t just different from you, he was different from the rest of these mindless puppets as well. A creature all his own.

That provided a semblance of comfort.

Though, one detail still bothered you enough. Apart from the prosthetic arm, his appearance was so convincingly opposite to the painted metal forms of his sibling creations and for that, it was true you hadn’t asked if he were a puppet, lacking the hunch to summon the need. But he never told you either. How naive to consider it would slip his mind.

Your step returned to line up with the other then, firm in place and standing you tall. “I’m not going to run,” Your voice held steadier than you’d imagined it able, far from the shaken whisper of before.

The tension in Pinocchio’s face fell away, his lips parting slight and that razors edge to his stare softening as you proved him so gladly wrong.

“I’m not going to run,” You repeated, before he had the chance to ask of your certainty. “But no more secrets. We have to trust each other, that means no keeping things from me anymore, alright?”

He regarded you for a moment at that, silent, as he usually was. But his eyes were loud and they didn’t shy from showing it, transparent in the relief that soothed inside his chest. You were going to stay. You’d learned what he was, what he was capable of, that he’d withheld it from you, and you’d chosen to stay.

Pinocchio nodded once, stepping closer with deliberate caution, in case your fear still kept a hand on your shoulder, until he came to stand before you. “No more secrets.” The puppet agreed. 🎭🦋

[kastalani123]

Trials of Ares: TTC

(Mortal Ares in SoM/BotL)

Ares spends the time between SoM and TTC throwing himself into way too much training, trying to compensate for his weak body and newfound limits. Everyone, including those not too fond of him, keeps trying to get him to stop because it just lands him in the infirmary over and over again and they honestly think it's pathetic to see him constantly sporting bandages and bruises (he can't even get ambrosia/nectar-powered super-healing) in an attempt to regain his godly prowess, unattainable by a mortal. He does not comply with doctor's orders, because he has to be able to protect himself and his allies, you know? Or at least be capable of putting up a fight. It doesn't matter how beaten he gets so long as he stands back up until he is physically incapable of moving again.

Annabeth has gotten over her initial inklings of pity and now just feels pissed every time Lee comes to get her because Ares will not stop even though he's about to cause serious permanent damage to himself and she's the only one who can force him to stop without further harming him.

His kids are conflicted. On one hand, they get the need to constantly train and fight, the need to push as far beyond the limits of their bodies as they can manage. On the other... there's a crazed, glazed look in his eyes when blood and sweat pour down his face, as if he's not really seeing what's in front of him, and his battle screams seem tinged with hysteria. It's a little like he's unravelling at the seams, each forgotten memory and unfamiliar softness of his body sending him further and further into a frenzy.

He always seems normal enough when he cheers them on, though. Not any worse with his threats than any of his children. It's odd. They're not sure how to deal with their father, always shaking with rage, seemingly never aiming the brunt of that rage on them.

Anyways.

He goes to Westover Hall because, again, tied to Annabeth. Also, Chiron thinks it's a good idea to get him away from the arena. He doesn't think Ares's young, mortal fingers can handle being split any longer, they need a moment to build up calluses. So, off he goes. Sally worries over him, as moms do. He doesn't know what to do with it, because he wouldn't dare blow up at a mother, but he hardly knows how else to react to concern. He just. Freezes for most of the ride. Annabeth probably told him not to say anything stupid, anyways.

He tries to attack Thorn the moment he realizes he's a monster. He gets in a decent hit, but is quickly tossed aside and breaks a rib or two (and doesn't tell anyone; no revealing weaknesses here!).

His feelings about Annabeth's kidnapping are... odd. Externally he is, obviously, enraged, though seemingly because he lost the fight with Thorn more than anything else. He even laughs a bit, about how no one can boss him around anymore! But he's a bit more jumbled up inside; he's gotten annoyingly attached to the brat, and not being able to piss her off a bit because she's not there grates on him more than he expected.

Artemis's presence is met with mutual insults. Artemis digs at his weakness, probably roughs him up a bit in a small fight, but ultimately pays him little mind; Ares pulls out insults he doesn't particularly mean, just trying to piss her off despite not having his rage-bait-aura because he wants a fight, damn it, he needs to release all his rage despite his body aching, and who better to do it on than a direct connection to their Father? Suffice it to say, the Hunters really don't like him within like. Two minutes.

When Nico realizes that he's the Ares, he bombards him with questions; Ares blows up a bit, essentially telling the kid to back off, then goes to sulk and try and figure out his ribs. Bianca tries to follow him, because his fall really didn't look good, but he blows her off too. Both the Hunters and Percy tell the siblings to try and avoid him because he's not worth the effort. Bianca... decides to take this as a little challenge, later.

Apollo makes fun of Ares, commenting on his appearance and powerlessness and how mortality isn't all that bad, Apollo's gone through this punishment twice before, can Ares really not handle it? He probably also talks about sending Ares on some errands, now that he's mortal and has to listen to him. Thalia's too stressed to care, the Hunters laugh along, Percy feels complicated because it's essentially bullying but also he still doesn't like Ares all that much, and Grover and the di Angelo's feel bad for him because do you really need to beat down a kid who's already bruised and bloodied and fuming enough?

Ares is essentially considered an extension of Annabeth, and therefore brought along on the quest as a sixth at Chiron's request, despite Zoë's hatred of the idea. Maybe there's a mention of him in the prophecy, I'm not sure, but regardless, he's on the quest legitimately because he needs to help his master. On one hand, he despises this, because he hates being told what to do. On the other, it's once again a fight and a chance to regain his divinity. Though, honestly, a major reason for how determined he is about the quest is that his sister got taken and he does not take that well. It only get worse when he gets the same dream Percy did about Artemis holding up the sky because damn it, no one's allowed to touch his family. He has learned that trying to rush the quest doesn't end well for him, but he's definitely on edge, though he won't let anyone know why.

Bianca is very determined to find out, though. She's got that sibling need to dig into others' business, and though she's trying to distance herself from "babysitting" others, it's a bit hard when there's a brooding kid her age around. She decides it's still a form of rebellion, since everyone keeps telling her not to talk to him. She gets snappy at him, because he is uniquely talented at pissing people off, and they're both surprised when she fires back at him. They both like it, though, and start exchanging barbs; Ares likes having someone to fight who doesn't back down or get too annoyed/bored to continue, and Bianca is giddy with glee that she's being mean. Zoë is. Not supportive of this newfound friendship, but Bianca says she's keeping Ares in check and Ares will be damned if he lets go of his newest little sister-kid.

Bianca is kind of the start of Ares's character development. Most others will either refuse to engage with him or make him shut up/walk away before he gets to anything concrete. Bianca, filled with the pent-up rage of a parentified older sister, refuses, because this is something she's choosing to do for herself, in spite of what those around her say; even her joining the Hunt was prompted by others, but this is entirely her own. She drags genuine emotions from Ares's mouth like she's pulling teeth, gets him to admit that he's worried for Artemis, and repays it with her own concerns about Nico. They bond over being the self-designated "protectors" of the family and being determined to be eternally strong. Ares has already signed the gods damned adoption papers.

And then she dies.

Ares. Does not take this well. He decimates Talos with a godly power-up, desperate to find her; the others cannot pull him away until he does, crushed in metal and burned with electricity. He begs her to wake up but, of course, she doesn't, so he curses out Zeus and Thanatos: Zeus because he's the reason Ares is mortal and got attached; Thanatos because she should have gotten to be picked up by him and not his sisters, the Keres, and can Thanatos not repay his debt to Ares for the Sisyphus thing by being the one to take Bianca, at least?

This is the first time Percy sees through Ares's rage. He has no idea what to do with this, because he is a child and grieving Bianca himself; he decides to process Ares being an actual, multi-faceted person later, when they're not on a quest to save Annabeth and Artemis.

(Also! In his encounter with Aphrodite, he's caught off-guard by her expressing what seems to be genuine concern and feeling for Ares, especially when she tells him to pass on her love and that she misses him, along with a dog tag and a Polaroid picture of her with four young men. He does not, initially, caught up in the quest and digesting their conversation. He will backtrack and correct this later)

Grover also finally manages to get through the stench of rage constantly surrounding Ares and finds the softer grief and worry. He tries to take Bianca's spot of trying to get Ares to talk things through, but after his teeth are almost knocked out, he decides Ares needs a bit of space first. It can wait at least until they get back to the safety of Camp. He's not letting up after the quest is done, though, he vows.

Hoover Dam calms him a little, when they start exchanging little facts about it. He complains about Annabeth ranting about it so much that even he absorbed the knowledge, but is actually grateful for the distraction. He's pissed in a jealous way that Zeus answers Thalia's prayer, though. He doubts he'd ever get that much attention from their Father, and it's fine, really. He doesn't care. Why would he care about familial validation? He hasn't had it in millennia, there's nothing to it. He's fine.

He absolutely freaks out about Bessie. He's also baffled Percy isn't smitten on the spot. He almost kills Bessie himself, in fear of anyone else getting to him first, but lets him be taken to Camp instead.

He totally has a panic attack about the lightning that strikes their car. Thalia realizes something is off, but they don't have the time to deal with it at the moment, so she brushes it off.

Percy and Thalia have to physically hold Ares back from attacking Atlas when he sees Artemis holding the sky and Annabeth gagged. Atlas orders Annabeth to command Ares to not attack him; he's not too concerned about Ares attacking him, especially as a mortal, but it's always one less pest to deal with. She complies.

So he goes for the sky.

I know Percabeth's shared grey streaks are iconic, but Ares is the one who takes the sky from Artemis here. She tries to refuse, because he's mortal, he will die, and regardless of his hated status, she does not want to watch him die, in the end. Ares yells at her, that just because he's mortal doesn't mean he can't handle this, he's still the god of war and her older brother whether she likes it or not. Begrudgingly, he adds that they both know he can't currently rival Atlas in power, but she can, with her trickery. She defeated the Aloadae when he couldn't, so she better give him the sky right now and go fight.

She does.

It is like the pain of all the soldiers he has ever led to war has decided to explode across his body.

(And yes, he is still dealing with previous injuries he has not gotten treated. It's very fun for him. He totally develops chronic pain and adjacent ailments throughout the books, if he wasn't sent down to Earth already with them)

He collapses almost the moment Atlas takes the sky back. The demigods have to help him get up and over to Artemis and Zoë, and Artemis has a bit of panic over who to be more worried about, but Ares makes her shift her focus to Zoë because he's fine, really.

He's not dying, at least.

She does turn her attention on him after Zoë's turned into stars, and finally someone realizes he's been injured for a bit. She yells at him about knowing his limits and not hiding his weak spots from allies because they need to know about them so they can cover for them, then does what she can to heal him up a bit before heading to Olympus. This is the first time in the story that she calls him "brother" in a genuine way, though. It takes away from the worried rage that's been keeping him from passing out and he just. Deflates and drops from exhaustion and pain.

He sleeps through the winter solstice meeting. Maybe Zeus keeps him as such, to keep the other Olympians from thinking of him too much; he doesn't want him returned yet, and if Ares shows up in front of everyone right then, the others might argue. So, he sleeps; Apollo probably squirrelled him away to his infirmary or something along those lines.

Once they're back at Camp, Ares finally taking a bit of a break to heal up, Percy passes on the message from Aphrodite, and the dog tag and photo. Ares immediately puts the dog tag chain on and tucks it beneath his shirt; it's the most precious one of his collection, with a curly Harmonia engraved on it, atypical as the format is. The photo, he almost crushes in his grip as he stares at it, before pocketing it with a gruff thank you. After this quest, the TLT trio grows a bit more patience with him, and he ever-so-slowly softens his aggression; there's still a long journey ahead of them, but the trio can now admit some fondness for him, and he stops arguing about everything they say and do.

Ares goes with Percy to talk to Nico but it doesn't change much; honestly, it might make it worse, because, mortal as he is, Ares is a god, he is meant to be powerful enough to protect those around him if he wishes to, so clearly he didn't want to save Bianca. Ares is kind of devastated by Nico running away, because he was hoping he could look after him for Bianca, similar to Percy, but Nico wants absolutely nothing to do with him. He swears he will find him, though, and make up for Bianca's death.

[verstappenverse]

Lessons in Jealousy

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: You’ve been in love with Lando as long as you can remember, but to him, you’re just his best friend. Enter Max your longtime frenemy who offers to help make Lando jealous. But as Lando finally starts to notice you, you wonder if you were chasing the wrong heart all along.

11.3k words / Poll Winner / Masterlist

Celebrations were in full swing tonight, laughter and clinking glasses filled the paddock lounge, and there was Lando in the middle of it all. He’d just finished another impressive race and with each victory the swarm of admirers seemed to grow. You’d spent years watching him like this, taking it all in from the sidelines. From kids at the karting track you’d been through nearly everything together. Yet somehow he never seemed to see you in the same way you saw him.

The thought stung. He saw you as his constant, his dependable best friend, and though your heart had tried, time and time again, to beat in time with his, it seemed that it may never be.

As you sat on the edge of the lounge sipping a drink, feeling like you’d blended into the wall, a familiar, annoyingly smug voice brought you back to reality. Max Verstappen leaned against the wall beside you, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on his lips as he nodded towards Lando.

“Never gets old huh?”

You’ve known Max almost as long as you’d known Lando, which is to say, too long. Your friendship with Lando was easy, uncomplicated, and comfortable from the start. Max though? That was different. With Max, it was like fire and ice.

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but from the moment he entered your orbit, it was as if the universe had decided you two were destined to push each other’s buttons. If Lando was easy warmth, Max was the kind of heat that could burn. He had a knack for getting under your skin, for knowing exactly what to say to rile you up, to make you bite back with sharp words and narrowed eyes. And you weren’t innocent in it either, you knew what set him off, what made his jaw go tight, what made his hands flex against his thighs like he was physically restraining himself from responding.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let him get under your skin. “You’re always so observant Max. Maybe try worrying about your own life?”

“Come on, it’s practically a free show,” he laughed, eyes not moving from Lando who was currently entertaining a particularly beautiful fan with one of his charming stories. You’d tried to accept his constant stream of dates, pretending that each one didn’t hurt a little more than the last, but the look in his eyes when he gazed at her… it stung.

“Surprised you have time to comment on my life Verstappen,” you shot back, not bothering to turn.

“It’s hard to miss. Every time I turn around there you are. Just trying to understand it.”

You glanced up at him. “Understand what?”

“Do you have a life outside of following him around?” he asked, raising an eyebrow

“Do you have a life outside of annoying me?” You fire back, hiding the warmth rising to your cheeks.

Every time you saw Max his quick wit and sometimes annoyingly perceptive comments rubbed you the wrong way. Lando would just laugh whenever you and Max got into your usual back-and-forth.

“You guys are worse than siblings,” he would tease.

Max seemed to enjoy poking at your devotion to Lando, teasing you about your years spent watching him with starry eyes, never once making a move. And yet, somehow, every taunt felt calculated, like he was trying to unravel something only he could see.

Max’s moved closer to you, his expression shifting into something almost thoughtful. “You know,” he said, his voice lowering, “I almost feel bad for you sometimes.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shot up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean. I’ve watched you for years, following him around like he’s the last guy on earth.”

“Because he’s my best friend,” you retorted, feeling defensive. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Max tilted his head, considering you. “Right. And that’s why you look at him like he hung the damn moon?”

“That’s not—” You opened your mouth to argue but snapped it shut. Arguing with Max was like arguing with a brick wall. He always had a way of pushing buttons you didn’t even know you had.

He shrugged. “Look, I just don’t get it. You’ve been waiting around for him forever. And for what?”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that already. What exactly are you getting at?”

His gaze flickered. “You need a new approach.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A new approach?”

Max nodded. “Simple psychology. Stop hanging around like his shadow. Make him notice you’re not always there.”

“So, your grand plan is to just play hard to get?”

“Not just play,” he corrected, a sly smile on his face. “Be hard to get. Lando’s used to always having you around, if you change that up it’ll get under his skin.”

The thought took you by surprise. You’d spent years at Lando’s side, always dependable, always there. The idea of pulling back felt...risky. But Max was right. It was a small risk compared to the years of waiting you’d already put in.

“I could help you, you know.” His voice was so casual that it took you a moment to process what he’d just offered. When you turned to him, he wore an expression of mild amusement. “Give him a little push. Maybe make him notice you for once.” His eyes glinted.

You stared at him, caught between skepticism and intrigue. “And what would you get out of it?”

Max crossed his arms, that signature confidence settling over him. “Maybe it’ll be fun,” he said with a wink, then shrugged. “Or maybe I just want to stop seeing you look miserable every race weekend.”

His expression was unreadable, but something about the way he was looking at you made your stomach twist.

What did you really have to lose?

You decided to give Max’s plan a try. Over the next few weeks you started making yourself less available. At first it felt unnatural, like you were playing a role in someone else’s life. Instead of rushing to Lando’s side after each race, instead of being the first person to celebrate his podiums or commiserate his losses you found other ways to spend your time. What you didn’t expect was how quickly your free time started being filled by Max.

He had a habit of appearing at the exact moment you might have otherwise gone to Lando, redirecting your focus with an effortless pull. If Lando was occupied, Max would materialise leaning against a wall, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised as if he’d been waiting for you to notice.

What was worse? You didn’t hate it.

You started seeking him out. Not consciously at first, but enough that he noticed.

“Still following orders?” he’d ask whenever you showed up in his garage, as though challenging you.

“Believe it or not I’m here by choice,” you’d reply, trying not to smile at his cocky grin.

That was the thing about Max he pushed, he prodded, he provoked. But for all his sharp edges, he had a way of making you think, of making you see things differently. You found yourself spending more time with Max in a way that bordered on ridiculous. You started joining him for lunch, sitting in on debriefs you had no real reason to be in, talking strategy like you actually belonged there.

And more and more, you started to notice things you hadn’t before.

The way Max listened, really listened, when you spoke. The way his brow furrowed when he disagreed, the way he challenged you, not to be difficult, but because he wanted to hear your reasoning, wanted to understand your perspective. Beneath the arrogance, beneath the ever-present smirk and the witty remarks, there was an intelligence and insightfulness you hadn’t fully appreciated before.

The longer you took to text Lando back, the more he started to notice. At first he joked about it, throwing an arm around your shoulders like he always did.

“You’re getting popular, huh? Who’s keeping you so busy?” he asked, a little laugh in his voice. But there was something else in his gaze confusion, maybe even curiosity.

You only smiled, shrugging it off, but you could feel the shift.

“Let me guess,” Max said as you both sat outside the team’s motorhome later that week, watching Lando down the pit-lane goof around with a few fans, occasionally glancing in your direction, “he asked you to meet up tonight, didn’t he?”

You sighed, folding your arms. “Yeah, he did.”

Max scoffed, shaking his head. “See? It’s already working. He’s starting to realise you’re not always there when he wants you.”

You let out a short laugh, though there was uncertainty beneath it. “I don’t think that’s true. He probably just—”

Max turned toward you then, his teasing fading into something more serious.

“You really don’t see it do you?” he said, almost as if he were realising something in real-time.

You frowned. “See what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely at you, at the space between you, at whatever invisible shift had taken place in the past few weeks. “You’re different when you’re not waiting around for him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

Max leaned in slightly, voice lowering just enough to make you feel like he was letting you in on some kind of secret. “You’re not trying so hard to be the girl you think Lando wants. And, for what it’s worth I think this version of you…the real you, is a hell of a lot more interesting.”

The words settled in your chest, warm and unexpected, leaving you momentarily without a response.

Late one afternoon Max showed up at your hotel door twirling his car keys around his finger. “Come on,” he said, eyes gleaming with something that looked dangerously close to mischief.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Come where?”

He leaned against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. “I figured it was time to see if you’re actually capable of driving or just a glorified spectator.”

Your brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, grinning now. “Let’s go.”

Naturally, you took that as a challenge.

The two of you spent hours racing each other, bumping karts, stealing inside lines, and throwing accusations of dirty tactics back and forth. Sure, it was fast, intense, competitive but there was so much laughter, a kind of easy camaraderie that felt strangely liberating.

You had just pulled off your helmet, hair a mess and adrenaline still buzzing through your veins, when you spotted Max watching you with a small, unguarded smile

“You’re actually pretty good out there,” Max admitted, his voice amused.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you took a sip of water. “High praise from the world champion. Should I be flattered?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got guts.”

You scoffed, leaning against the railing beside him. “Only because it’s you. It’s survival instincts Verstappen.”

Max turned slightly, his arm brushing yours as he studied you. “Oh, so now you’re saying I make you better? That’s interesting.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I said.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head, mock thoughtful. “Sounds a lot like what you said.”

You huffed, nudging him with your elbow. “Fine. If it makes you feel better you make me drive more aggressively.”

His grin widened. “See? You do get better when I’m around.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “No I just want to beat you.”

Max bumped his shoulder against yours, casual, easy. “Same thing.”

You shook your head, unable to fight the grin pulling at your lips.

“Seriously,” he said, his voice softer now, “I think you’re tougher than you give yourself credit for. Definitely tougher than most people realise.”

Something about the way he said it made you pause, the words striking somewhere deeper than you expected.

Things slowly started to shift between you and Max. Little moments that should have been insignificant but somehow weren’t.

Like the way Max always seemed to find you in a crowded room, even when you weren’t looking for him. How he started waiting not in an obvious, deliberate way, but just enough for you to notice. Just enough that you felt it.

Or the way he’d pass you a drink at an event before you could even ask for one, like he already knew what you needed. The way he’d brush his knee against yours under the table at dinners, wordlessly checking in. The way he always had a sarcastic remark at the ready, but if anyone else gave you a hard time, he was the first to shut it down.

And then there were the more obvious moments.

Like how somewhere along the way, you had just become part of his post-race routine, not just because you were waiting for him, but because he was waiting for you too. Whether it was dinner, drinks, or decompressing in a hotel room after a long day. You just ended up there like you belonged, the same way he always ended up beside you.

Or the time he offered you a seat on his plane without a second thought, the invitation so casual it almost felt meaningless. You don’t need to fly commercial just come with me. As if it was the easiest thing in the world, like it was obvious you’d say yes. And when you did, the entire flight passed in quiet conversation and comfortable silence, his jacket draped over you when you fell asleep somewhere over the Atlantic, something you only noticed when you woke up, groggy and warm, finding Max pretending as if he hadn’t been watching you.

It wasn’t the same as following Lando around, lingering in the spaces he occupied, hoping he’d finally see you. With Max, you weren’t just there, you were wanted.

At some point, the teasing had shifted, too. It was still there, sharp as ever, but there was something gentler beneath it. A knowing look. A lingering glance. The more time you spent together, the harder it was becoming to deny.

As the paddock wound down one evening and the last traces of daylight faded into the horizon, you stepped out to find Max waiting for you. He was leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, that ever-present smirk playing at his lips.

You slowed your steps, eyeing him warily. “What?”

Max smirked, tilting his head slightly. “I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?”

Your heart stuttered for a fraction and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Depends on the reason.”

He just grinned, rolling his eyes. “Get in the car. I have a spot I want to show you.”

You didn’t question it. That was the strange thing about Max, you never quite knew what he was up to, but somehow, it always felt like it made sense in the moment. So, you got in.

The city lights faded behind you as Max drove further out, leaving the familiar chaos of the paddock behind. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable if anything, it felt easy, like neither of you needed to fill it just for the sake of it, he just drove. One hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gearshift, his posture relaxed but focused.

You leaned your head against the window, watching the world blur past. “So, am I going to get an explanation at some point, or are we just driving until we run out of gas?”

Max huffed a laugh, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “Patience, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but the blush rising to your cheeks threatened to betray you.

Eventually, he pulled off onto a secluded hilltop, a place that overlooked the distant glow of the city below. The sky stretched wide above you, stars blinking against the dark canvas of night.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to stargaze,” you murmured as you stepped out of the car, glancing at Max as his gaze lifted to the sky.

He smirked, his eyes reflecting the faint glow of the stars above. “I’m full of surprises.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “And what’s the other way?”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin. “A walking contradiction. Impossible. Infuriating.”

Max chuckled as he looked back up at the sky. “You forgot irresistible.”

You let out a scoff. “Oh, right. How could I forget that?”

You sat beside him, close enough to feel his warmth in the crisp night air, but not close enough to touch. As your conversation continued late into the night, you started to realise there was a lot more to Max than you had ever really understood.

He was talking about his early days on the track, the relentless pressure, the suffocating expectations, the way the sport had consumed him before he was even old enough to fully understand what it meant. And with that came the isolation of a life that revolved around racing before he had the chance to figure out who he was outside of it.

“You don’t exactly seem like someone who needs…anyone,” you said, your curiosity genuine.

Max gave a small shrug, his gaze flickering toward the horizon. “You get used to being alone in this world. Everyone wants something from you, so you learn to keep people at a distance.”

His honesty caught you off guard, the vulnerability in his words settling in a way you hadn’t expected. “Then why are you helping me?”

He let out a short laugh, but his gaze held yours. “Maybe because I understand what you’re going through. More than you know.”

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning.

You weren’t sure what to say. This was new territory, uncharted, and unfamiliar.

Several weeks later you were all out at a club, the night was loud, the place packed with bodies. The bass thrummed through your chest, neon lights casting shadows over familiar faces as you navigated through the crowd. Lando was here, you’d spotted him earlier laughing with a group of people you barely recognised caught up in his own world.

You had found him, weaving through the crowd, your hand grazing his arm as you leaned in close, your voice barely cutting through the music. But the moment lasted no more than a few seconds before he brushed you off, distracted, his attention elsewhere. A joke thrown over his shoulder, an easy grin at someone else, and suddenly you weren’t even there.

Maybe it was the drinks, or the music, or the fact that he had no idea how much this all meant to you, but for the first time, it felt different. Like a crack forming in something you’d always assumed was solid.

So you had stepped away, retreating to the edges of the club, frustration twisting in your chest as you rested against the cool wall. Your shoulders slumped, exhaustion creeping in not just from the night, but from all of it. The waiting, the hoping, the years of being right there only to be left standing in the background.

That was how Max found you.

“Still hoping for a miracle?” His voice cut through the music, and when you turned your head, he was beside you, leaning casually against the wall like he hadn’t just read your mind.

You sighed, tilting your head back. “I don’t know anymore.”

For once, Max didn’t smirk, didn’t tease. When you glanced at him, his expression was softer, the usual sharpness in his eyes replaced with something closer to concern.

“You don’t have to wait for him you know,” he said simply.

You exhaled, turning to face him fully. “And what else am I supposed to do?”

He shrugged, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe you’re too close to see it, but you’re worth a lot more than being someone’s second choice.”

Max’s words his unwavering certainty planted a thought in your mind that you weren’t ready to face. “I know you’re trying to help,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, “but it’s complicated. I’ve been friends with Lando for so long it’s hard to just—”

“Walk away?” Max interrupted gently. “Sometimes that’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Max shook his head, as if letting you off the hook.

“Forget it,” he said, his tone lighter. “I know you’re not ready to give up on him.” And then he pushed off the wall and walked away, disappearing into the crowd before you could stop him.

But as you stood there, alone in the darkened corner of the club, Lando’s laughter echoing from somewhere across the room, you found yourself wondering if Max was right. And if he was…what the hell were you still waiting for?

One late night, you found yourself sitting with Max in the quiet hum of the Red Bull garage. His hands moved animatedly as he explained his thoughts on the upcoming strategy, eyes sharp with focus, completely absorbed in his own thoughts. He spoke fast, precise, running through every possibility, every variable, like his mind was operating on a level most people couldn’t even grasp.

It was mesmerising to watch.

“You’re staring,” he noted, barely looking up from the data, but the smirk in his voice was unmistakable.

You blinked, caught off guard, heat creeping up your neck. “Am I?” you deflected, tilting your head. “Maybe I’m just realising you might actually know what you’re talking about.”

Max let out a short chuckle, leaning back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he studied you with an infuriating level of amusement. “Careful,” he mused, his eyes glinting. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were impressed.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Let’s not get carried away.”

His smirk widened, his voice dropping slightly as he leaned in. “Too late. I’m taking it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile you couldn’t quite hide gave you away. “Fine. I guess you’re a lot better at this than I may have originally gave you credit for.”

Max raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “That almost sounded genuine. Say it again, I just wanna make sure I heard you right.”

You nudged his arm, laughing despite yourself. “Don’t push your luck Verstappen.”

Max just grinned, and he looked at you then like he knew something you didn’t, but before you could respond your phone buzzed on the table between you. You didn’t even have to check the screen to know who it was.

Lando.

You picked it up, your stomach tightening as you read the message. A simple, casual miss you.

Two words that once would have sent your heart racing now felt hollow. Forced. Like an afterthought rather than something real. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you exhaled quietly and set your phone back down without replying.

“What did he say?” Max asked, his tone unreadable.

“Nothing important,” you murmured, brushing your thumb over the edge of the table.

Max didn’t press, but the atmosphere felt heavier, like there was something you’d both acknowledged without needing to say it aloud.

Then, with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Max stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Come on, it’s late let’s get out of here.”

You nodded, standing as well, but before you could say anything, he glanced at you, something unreadable across his face. “Goodnight princess,” he added as you headed your own way, his tone light, teasing like nothing about this night had affected him at all.

But when you looked at him, really looked at him, you saw it. The shift in his expression. The way his smirk faltered for just a second, like there was something else he wanted to say but wouldn’t.

Days later you were standing beside Max the night air was warm, thick with the lingering heat of the day. It could’ve been anywhere, a quiet corner of the paddock, or a rooftop overlooking the city, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the way Max wouldn’t look at you.

He had been quiet all day. His jaw was tight, his fingers tracing the edge of the bottle in his hand, his eyes fixed on the ground like he was thinking about something he didn’t want to say out loud.

You exhaled, shifting beside him. “You’re acting weird.”

Max scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

You arched an eyebrow. “You are. You’re never quiet this long unless you’re planning something dangerous.”

At that, he let out a breath of laughter, but it faded quickly.

“I don’t get it,” he said suddenly, watching you over his drink.

You frowned. “Get what?”

His jaw clenched slightly before he spoke, his voice quieter now, more measured. “How can he not see it?”

A strange sort of unease curled in your chest. “See what?”

“You.” His voice was steady, intent. “You’re always there, supporting him, understanding him…I don’t understand how he doesn’t see how incredible you are.”

Your breath caught, heat rushing to your face at the sheer honesty in his tone. Max didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He didn’t hand out compliments just for the sake of it.

“Max…”

He shook his head, setting his drink down on the ledge beside him. “He’s blind, or maybe just afraid. But you deserve more than this.” His lips pressed together for a second, like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “You deserve someone who doesn’t take you for granted.”

You swallowed, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “It’s not as bad as you make it sound,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I know he cares about me, maybe not in the way I’ve always wanted him to but…” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “When things got hard, when I needed someone, he’s never turned his back on me.” A small, almost sad smile crossed your lips. “We’ve been through so much together. He knows me better than most people do.”

Max’s expression was lost, but he didn’t interrupt.

“It’s just sometimes, it’s hard,” you admitted finally, your voice carrying the weight of years of unspoken doubts. “Because I know he cares really, in his own way, but I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.” You shook your head, exhaling slowly. “Not in the way I want it to be.”

Max’s gaze softened slightly, the edge of his earlier frustration fading just a little. “You can’t keep waiting for him to notice,” he murmured finally, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, but there was something else there too.

You shifted beside him, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m not waiting—”

Max cut you a look.

You sighed, looking down at your hands. “Okay. Maybe I am.”

Max exhaled, running a hand through his hair, glancing out into the night. For a moment, you thought that was the end of it that he would just drop it like he always did when you didn’t want to listen. But then, just as you were about to change the subject, he spoke again.

“I just don’t get why it has to be him.”

Your head snapped up, eyes locking onto his. “What?”

Max’s jaw tightened, like he regretted saying it out loud. But he didn’t backtrack. He never did. Instead, he exhaled sharply. “You act like he’s the only person in the world who could ever make you happy.”

Your stomach twisted. “That’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” His voice was level, but there was an edge to it, something restrained. He ran a hand over his jaw, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “I’ve seen you wait for him. Years. And I keep wondering…”

A lump formed in your throat. “Wondering what?”

Max swallowed, his hands flexing at his sides like he wanted to shove them in his pockets or maybe run them through his hair again, anything to distract himself. But he didn’t. He just looked at you.

“Wondering when you’re gonna realise you don’t have to.”

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

Because what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

He leaned back against the ledge, tilting his head slightly. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his voice softer now, no teasing, just quiet sincerity. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all.”

You exhaled, looking down at your hands, the weight of everything settling deep in your chest. “Me too.”

Max nudged your knee with his, a small attempt to lighten the moment. “You’ll figure it out.”

You glanced at him, searching his expression, and found nothing but warmth in his gaze. “Yeah?”

He nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. You always figure things out when it matters.”

You huffed a small laugh and just like that, the tension lifted, fading into the night. Maybe nothing had changed. Maybe everything had. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were waiting for Lando at all. Or if you were just afraid of what would happen if you finally stopped.

Lando’s behaviour changed even more in the following weeks as he felt your absence grow.

The late replies that once went unnoticed were now met with double texts. The easy, casual invites had turned into persistent attempts to recreate days together “just like old times.” He was calling more, messaging at odd hours, throwing your name into conversations like a tether, as if trying to remind you of your place in his world.

It should have felt like everything you had ever wanted. The attention, the shift, the proof that maybe this had been the answer all along. And yet, somehow, the thrill of getting Lando’s attention wasn’t as satisfying as you’d imagined.

And then, one night, everything changed.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, no dramatic moment of realisation. It was just Lando, the two of you standing together slightly separated from the crowd. You had noticed it the way his eyes lingered, the way his laughter softened when it was just the two of you, like he was seeing something new.

And then, just like that, he finally said it.

“You’re one of the most important people in my life,” he admitted. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Let me take you out,” he said suddenly, almost like he was realising it in real time. “Just us. Properly.”

Your heart pounded as you stared at him.

This was it.

Lando, finally seeing you. Finally wanting you.

For months, years really, you had waited for this. Dreamed of it even.

And when the moment finally arrived, you said yes.

A real dinner, just the two of you. No last-minute paddock meet-ups, no half-hearted invitations tacked onto group outings. A proper date. The kind you had imagined more times than you could count. And yet, as you sat across from Lando at a sleek, candlelit table, dressed in the outfit you’d spent way too long picking out, the excitement you had expected wasn’t there.

Instead, a strange mix of anticipation and dread settled in your chest.

You tried to ignore it.

Lando was smiling at you, talking animatedly about something, golf, or maybe a new sim rig setup, but you found your mind drifting. The restaurant was perfect, the kind of place you used to imagine him taking you to.

But something about the moment still felt…off.

You forced yourself to focus.

Lando leaned back in his chair, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers raking through the curls like he was trying to ease some unseen tension. “Everything is just so busy at the moment,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. “Sponsor stuff, sim training, and, you know, the actual racing.” He let out a small laugh. “Barely any time to breathe.”

He smiled then, but there was something searching in his gaze. His fingers tapped lightly against the stem of his glass before he lifted it, taking a slow sip. “But I guess you’ve been busy too.”

You blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

Lando tilted his head slightly, the candlelight flickering in his eyes as he studied you. “I don’t know,” he said, voice lighter than his expression. “It just feels like I don’t see you as much anymore. Not like we used to.”

The words settled between you, and suddenly, the air felt heavier.

You hesitated, fingers curling around the stem of your wine glass, rolling it between your fingertips as if that would steady you. “Yeah…I guess things have just been different lately.”

Lando nodded slowly, but his gaze didn’t leave yours. “Different how?”

“I don’t know,” you said carefully. “I guess I’ve just been… busy.”

Lando hummed, unconvinced. “Busy with Max?”

You inhaled sharply, the directness of his words catching you off guard. He wasn’t teasing, wasn’t smirking. He was asking.

You placed your glass down, exhaling. “We’ve been spending more time together, yeah.”

“I figured,” he said finally, his voice even. “You two have been… close lately.”

You swallowed, feeling a strange mix of guilt and something else, something you weren’t ready to name. “It’s not like that,” you said quickly, but even as the words left your mouth, you weren’t sure they were true.

Lando studied you for another second, then sighed, shaking his head with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not mad, you know,” he said, softer now. “I just… I guess I didn’t realise how much things had changed.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t know what to say. Because neither had you.

Lando nodded, then he leaned forward resting his elbows on the table, his voice dropping slightly. “Did I do something wrong?”

You swallowed, caught off guard. “No. Of course not.”

And it was true, wasn’t it? Lando hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really.

But even as the words left your mouth, doubt crept in.

Lando smiled then, that boyish grin that had always made your heart stutter in the past, the one that made it so easy to believe that maybe this could be something real. Something right.

“I’m glad,” he said, his voice lighter now, more assured. “Because I’ve missed you. And I’m really glad we’re finally doing this.”

You smiled, sipping your wine. “Yeah, it’s nice. Kind of reminds me of when things were simpler.”

The conversation flowed easier after that, the awkwardness from earlier slipping away, replaced by something familiar. Comfortable. For the first time that night, it felt like just you and Lando again. No second-guessing, no pressure, but deep down you knew there was still that lingering uncertainty in the back of your mind.

The next evening you found Max leaning against the hotel’s outdoor railing, looking out over the city lights. He glanced up as you approached, and you saw it the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers curled slightly against the metal railing.

“You okay?” you asked, coming to stand beside him.

Max let out a slow breath. “Long day.”

You hesitated before speaking. “I went out with Lando last night.”

His jaw tensed. “I know.”

You studied him for a moment, the way his expression gave nothing away, the way his shoulders seemed just a little more rigid than usual. “Going out with him again tonight?” His voice was calm.

You frowned, something about the way he asked making your stomach twist. “Yes. I thought that’s what you wanted. Isn’t this your plan?”

Max finally turned to you then, he exhaled through his nose, a humourless chuckle escaping before he shook his head. “Yeah,” he said, voice quieter now. “It was.”

“Max…”

He looked away, his fingers gripping the railing a little tighter. “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea after all.”

You blinked, taken aback by the shift in his voice, the weight behind the words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Max let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly, like he was frustrated, like he was frustrated with himself more than anything else. “Forget it,” he muttered, pushing off the railing.

“No,” you countered quickly, “tell me.”

He hesitated, his gaze searching yours, but whatever he was looking for he must not have found it, because instead of answering he took a step back. “Trust me, it doesn’t matter,” he sighed, turning towards the door.

You watched him go, frustration rising in your chest. “It does matter Max,” you called after him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t turn back.

His words hung in the air between you as he walked back inside. It wasn’t like Max to admit something like that to let something slip in a way that made him sound uncertain. He was always so sure, so stubborn, so relentless in his convictions. But tonight? He had let you see it. For the first time, you weren’t sure who this plan had really been for.

His words lingered in your mind long after he’d said them.

Dinners with Lando should have felt like everything you’d been waiting for. The perfect setting, the glow of candlelight, the easy rhythm of conversation. And yet, despite it all, the way he smiled at you from across the table, the familiarity that once felt effortless, something was missing.

It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t awkward. But it felt… off. Like a song played just slightly out of tune. Like you were reaching for something that wasn’t there anymore, grasping at the edges of a feeling that had already slipped through your fingers.

And worse, you couldn’t stop thinking about Max.

His easy smile, the way he always saw through you, the way he challenged you and pushed you in a way that never felt like a game. Just enough to make you feel. Just enough to make you realise that somehow he had carved out space in your life when you hadn’t even been looking. You weren’t sure when it had started, this creeping awareness, this feeling that had settled in the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored. But it was there now. Constant. Unshakable.

Sitting across from Lando you realised something that terrified you. You had outgrown the idea of him, outgrown the dream of what you thought this would be.

And yet, things didn’t get any better from there. If anything, they got worse.

Lando’s sudden attention and Max’s constant presence pulled you in opposite directions, leaving you stranded somewhere between what you had always wanted and what you had never expected to find. And then, one evening, everything came to a head.

It was after another race, the energy in the paddock still buzzing as people came and went, but you had stepped away from the noise, needing a moment to breathe when the familiar hum of certain voices caught your attention.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.

But the second you recognised Max’s voice, low, tight, edged with frustration, you froze.

“You know, you’ve got a real gift for not seeing what’s right in front of you,” he said, his tone sharper than usual.

You frowned, your heart already racing as you stood up, moving closer to the edge of the doorway.

Lando’s reply was instant, defensive. “What’s your problem Max?”

Max let out a hollow laugh, sharp and humourless. “My problem?” he repeated, his voice dripping with frustration. “My problem is that you’ve had her in front of you for years, and you still can’t see her.”

Your breath caught, your body going rigid where you stood, hidden just out of sight.

There was a beat of silence, then Lando’s voice again, louder now. “What are you even talking about?”

Max scoffed, the sound filled with disbelief. “You know exactly what.” His voice was rising, the usual restraint gone. “She’s there, every race, every time you win, every time you screw up. Every time you need someone, she’s there.” His voice wavered for just a second before he pressed on, his words cutting through the air like a blade. “She’s the one who backs you up. Who understands you. Who makes excuses for you when you don’t even deserve them.”

Lando exhaled sharply, the sound more irritated than guilty. “Jesus Max you’re acting like I don’t care about her.”

Max let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t care about her. Not in the way you should.”

Lando’s voice sharpened. “And I suppose you do?”

Silence.

The kind of silence that wasn’t empty, but charged, pulsing between them like the prelude to a storm.

Your stomach twisted violently, your pulse hammering in your ears.

When Max spoke again, his voice was quieter, but no less intense. “She’s incredible Lando,” he said, his frustration bleeding into something raw, something real. “She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s… beautiful.” His voice cracked slightly, like saying the words out loud was taking something from him. “And you’re too blind to see it.”

Lando was quiet for a second. "You’re being dramatic.”

Max’s voice was flat. “Am I?”

“What’s your deal man? Since when do you care so much?” Lando prodded.

There it was.

The question you had never dared to ask yourself.

“Because I…” He stopped, inhaling sharply like the words had gotten stuck somewhere in his throat. But when he spoke again, they came out hoarse, unguarded in a way you had never heard from him before. “Because maybe she deserves someone who actually sees her.” His voice was thick with something fragile. “Someone who doesn’t just notice her when she’s not there.”

Max wasn’t just arguing anymore. He wasn’t just frustrated with Lando. He was hurt.

Lando shook his head, disbelieving. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Max shot back, stepping forward now, his voice taut. “How is it fair to her? How is it fair that she’s spent years—years Lando waiting for you to notice something you never have? And now you suddenly care? Now that she’s not standing around waiting for you to decide?”

Lando opened his mouth, but Max cut him off.

“No, you don’t get to act like you’re some innocent guy in all this,” he snapped, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. “You don’t get to pretend you’re confused when you’ve spent this whole time taking her for granted.”

Lando’s face twisted, frustration flashing in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

Max took another step closer. “Then tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged, voice low, dangerous. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you’re not just doing this because she finally pulled away. Tell me that if she had never distanced herself, if she had never stopped running after you, if she never came to me, you still would’ve done something about it.”

Lando’s mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to argue, like he needed to argue.

But he didn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Max exhaled sharply, shaking his head. His voice, when he spoke again, was quieter now, resigned. “If you really care about her…if you actually see her like you should have a long time ago then prove it. Otherwise…” He swallowed, his jaw tightening. “Otherwise, let her go.”

Your entire body had gone numb, frozen in place as the weight of his words crashed over you.

Lando didn’t answer and you couldn’t listen anymore.

You found Max outside the paddock, walking with quick, purposeful strides, his shoulders tense like he was trying to outrun what had just happened. His head was down, his fists clenched at his sides, his usual easy confidence stripped away.

You followed him before you could think better of it, your own heart hammering in your chest, your mind racing with everything you had just overheard.

“Max,” you called, your voice unsteady.

He didn’t stop.

“Max!” you yelled.

He stumbled back a step, his eyes widening when they met yours, realisation crashing over him in real time.

Shock. Guilt. Panic.

You saw it all flash across his face before he masked it, his expression shuttering, his jaw tightening as he instinctively tried to school himself into neutrality. But his fingers curled at his sides, his shoulders rising and falling with deep, unsteady breaths.

He knew.

He knew you had heard everything.

His mouth opened, like he was about to say something, an excuse, maybe, a brush-off, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“What was that?” you demanded, breathless, your pulse still racing.

Max hesitated, and for the first time since you’d known him he looked unsure. His entire frame stiffened, his lips parting before he pressed them into a thin line, calculating his next move weighing whether to tell the truth or run from it.

Finally, he let out a breath, voice rough when he spoke. “I would never take you for granted,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I would never make you wonder where you stand. I would never make you feel like you weren’t enough.”

His eyes never left yours, as he continued. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, if he doesn’t wake up every damn day knowing how lucky he is just to exist in your orbit. If he can’t see you, if he can’t want you the way you deserve to be wanted, fully, completely, without hesitation..."

“Then maybe I can.” his next words coming out softer, but no less certain. “Because I already do.”

The world stilled.

Your breath caught, your body betraying you as warmth spread through your chest, through your limbs, through every single place Max Verstappen had ever touched in some way.

For weeks, months, you had been fighting it. Pretending it wasn’t there. Telling yourself that this was about Lando.

But standing here now, with Max looking at you like this, like you were something to be fought for you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore.

The days following Max’s confession were a blur of introspection and uncertainty. Lando reached out, texting, calling, sending you memes like nothing had changed, like he was trying to pull you back into the rhythm of what you’d always been.

But everything had changed.

Because every time your phone lit up with his name, your thoughts drifted to Max. The quiet strength of his presence, the way he had seen you, really seen you, long before you had even admitted it to yourself. Because for all the sniping and bickering, for all the fire and ice between you, Max had always been there. Not in the soft, obvious way Lando was, but in the way that mattered. He’d challenge you, push you, piss you off, but when it counted, when you really needed someone, Max showed up. No grand gestures, no sentimental speeches. Just him. Standing beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And eventually, you knew what you had to do.

You needed to talk to Lando. Really talk.

You found him at the track, sitting in the back of McLaren’s garage, staring at his phone like it held answers he didn’t know how to ask for. He looked up when you approached, his expression flickering with something between relief and apprehension.

“Hey,” he said, shoving his phone into his pocket. “You finally decided to stop avoiding me?”

You sighed, sliding into the seat across from him. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Oh so you just happened to stop texting back? And just happened to be everywhere except where I was?” His voice was teasing, but his expression betrayed him.

You exhaled, gripping the edge of the table as you tried to steady your emotions. “I needed space to figure things out.”

Lando’s smirk, the one he always used to defuse tension, flickered, then disappeared entirely.

“Lando,” you said cautiously, searching for the right words, unsure of how to say what needed to be said. “I care about you…I always will…but I also care about Max.”

His brows pulled together instantly. “What do you mean?” His voice wasn’t defensive, but it was careful, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

You took a steadying breath, your pulse quickening. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him this year, and somewhere along the way something changed,” you admitted, the words feeling heavier as they left your lips. “I see us all so differently now. And it’s… complicated.”

Lando’s expression shifted, his jaw tensing slightly. He blinked a few times, like he was still trying to process what you were saying. “So… you’re saying you like him?”

You hesitated, but there was no point in denying it anymore. “Yeah,” you said softly, your heart pounding. “I think I do.”

Lando leaned back in his seat, dragging a hand down his face before exhaling slowly. His lips pressed together, his mind working through something you couldn’t quite place.

You could see it, the initial reaction he was fighting, the part of him that didn’t like it, the part that was still struggling with the idea of losing whatever the two of you had once been. For years, you had been his, his closest friend, his safe space, the person who had always been there, no matter what.

And now, you weren’t.

For a long moment he didn’t say anything. He just stared at the table, brows furrowed, jaw still clenched like he was trying to work out how he really felt about this.

“Lando?” you prompted hesitantly.

He let out a breath, shaking his head. “I mean… I guess I should’ve seen this coming, right?”

You frowned. “Lando—”

“No, I mean it,” he interrupted, sitting up straighter. “You and Max…I don’t know. It makes sense, I guess.”

You searched his face, trying to gauge how much of that was genuine. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay with it.”

Lando sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not pretending.” He paused, rubbing his palms over his thighs before looking back at you. “It’s just weird you know? I got so used to you being my person, even if I was too stupid to ever do anything about it.” His lips twitched into a small, almost bitter smile. “And now you’re…his?”

You swallowed, shifting slightly in your seat. “I don’t know what I am yet.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “You two have spent years arguing about everything. I always thought you hated each other half the time.”

You let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. “We do sometimes.” You shook your head, a small smile playing at your lips as memories flickered through your mind. “We push each other’s buttons, we argue, we drive each other insane. But somehow…it just makes sense now.”

Lando drummed his fingers on the table, nodding slowly as he processed your words. “So what you’re saying is you like the way he pushes your buttons?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not just that.”

He smirked slightly. “But it is a little bit that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe. But it’s also the fact that he sees me. He pushes me to be better. He doesn’t let me fade into the background or sit around waiting for someone to notice me.”

Lando let out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah. That sounds like Max.”

You hesitated. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”

“It’s not. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get it.” He glanced away for a second before looking back at you, his gaze softer. “Does he make you happy?”

The question caught you off guard.

Did Max make you happy?

The thought of him alone sent warmth spreading through your chest, and you realised you were smiling before you even had the chance to answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted softly. “He does.”

Lando watched you for a long moment, then let out a short chuckle. “Then that’s it isn’t it?”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if he makes you happy, then you should go for it.”

You blinked. “Just like that?”

He gave you a small, almost exasperated smile. “No, not just like that. I don’t love it, okay? I don’t love the idea…” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I’ve known Max a long time. And yeah, he can piss me off…” A smirk ghosted over his lips before fading just as quickly. “But he’s a good guy. And if he’s the one who finally made you feel seen then I can’t be mad about that. And I know that if he cares about you the way I think he does, then he’s going to treat you right.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your chest tightening.

“This might not mean much, but…” he started, voice softer now. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “For what?”

“For not being what you needed. For noticing you too late.” He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if things would have been different if I had figured it out sooner, but you deserved better than waiting around for me to get my shit together.”

Your chest ached at his words, but there was no anger, no resentment just an understanding that you had both needed to reach.

“I do love you, you know,” Lando added. “Maybe not in the way you wanted. But you’ve always meant a lot to me.”

You reached across the table, squeezing his hand briefly before pulling away. “And you’ll always mean a lot to me too.”

Lando smiled then. “Just don’t let him gloat too much about this, alright?”

A laugh bubbled out of you, and for the first time in months, it didn’t feel weighed down by uncertainty.

Things between you and Lando weren’t perfect. Maybe they never would be again.

But as you sat there, sharing a smile that still felt familiar, you realised something important.

You hadn’t lost him.

And maybe you were finally allowing yourself to find something new.

You went to Max the next night, your heart pounding with every step, anticipation buzzing beneath your skin like electricity. No more waiting, no more pretending. Every nerve in your body was alight with the urgency of it, the sheer need to see him, to tell him.

The moment he opened the door you could tell something was wrong. He stood there, gripping the handle tightly, his posture tense, like he had been expecting bad news. His hair was slightly disheveled, he looked restless, unsettled, like he was carrying a weight he didn’t know how to put down.

You hesitated, swallowing hard. “Can I come in?”

Max stared at you for a second longer, as if debating whether letting you in would make this better or worse. But then, with a sigh, he stepped back, holding the door open.

You slipped inside, the air in the room heavy, thick with unspoken words. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the space, and you noticed the half-empty water bottle on the bedside table, the hotel key tossed haphazardly on the desk. It looked like he had been pacing, maybe sitting at the edge of the bed, getting up, sitting back down, as if he hadn’t been able to sit still since the last time you saw him.

Max ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly before turning back to you. “I get it,” he muttered before you could speak, voice gruff, like he had already convinced himself of the worst. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Your brows furrowed. “Max—”

“No, really.” He let out a breathless, almost bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “I already know how this goes. I saw you with him yesterday at the McLaren garage.” He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re here to tell me that this was a mistake. That I got the wrong idea. That you’re choosing him.”

His words stung, not because they were true, but because he actually believed them.

Your throat tightened. “Max, that’s not—”

“If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” His voice was quieter now, you knew he was telling the truth, but still he was guarded, like he was preparing himself for impact. “That’s what matters.”

Something inside you cracked.

You stepped forward before you could second-guess yourself, reaching for his hand. He flinched slightly at the contact, his fingers twitching against yours, but he didn’t pull away.

“Did you mean what you said?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s brows knitted together, his body going still. “What?”

You swallowed hard, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “About seeing me, wanting me?”

For a second you saw it that flicker of hesitation, the instinct to lie, to brush it off, to save himself from whatever heartbreak he thought was coming. His lips parted, as if he was about to say something dismissive, something easy.

But he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t lie to you. Not about this. Not when it had been clawing at him for months, maybe years.

His mask slipped, the exhaustion, the frustration, the sheer weight of everything finally crashing down as he exhaled. His voice when he spoke was raw, unfiltered, like he had no choice but to lay himself bare.

“Every word,” he admitted, his gaze burning into yours. His fingers twitched against your hand, his grip tightening just slightly, as if he needed something to hold onto. “I meant every fucking word.”

You had spent so long waiting, waiting to be noticed, waiting to be chosen, waiting for something that was never going to happen. And all this time, Max had been there. Right in front of you. Seeing you in a way you had never even thought to ask for.

Relief flooded through you, mingling with something that had been building for so long, something inevitable.

Your breath came shakily, your fingers trembling slightly as the truth tumbled out before you could stop it. “I think…” You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze, the weight of the moment pressing down on you like gravity itself. “I think I’ve been waiting for the wrong person.”

His entire body reacted, like the words had physically hit him, like he had been bracing himself for heartbreak and suddenly, inexplicably, found himself with something else entirely.

Hope.

His eyes searched yours, desperate and overwhelmed. “I didn’t plan this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand hovering near your cheek fighting against every instinct telling him to touch you. “But…I can’t pretend it isn’t real.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

It was real. It had been real for so much longer than you had even realised.

You let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh. “Neither can I.”

“You mean that?” he asked.

“I mean it,” you whispered, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your skin. “I see you now,” you breathed, voice steadier than you expected. “And I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Max’s lips parted slightly. “Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead pressing lightly against yours as his other hand settled on your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Your fingers curled against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Max let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head against yours. “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

You laughed, though it was shaky, uneven, because your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

Max’s hands flexed against you, like he was still struggling to believe this was happening. “I tried not to want this,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Tried to push it down, to ignore it, to pretend like it wasn’t tearing me apart every time I saw you waiting for him.” His grip on you tightened, his forehead pressing harder against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “But once there was even the slightest chance? Once I realised I wasn’t crazy, that maybe—maybe you could feel this too?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “There was no turning back. I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I’d never want anyone else,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “That it’s always been you.”

The words sent a shockwave through you, your entire body reacting before your mind could catch up. A soft breath escaped your lips as you surged forward, your hands gripping his hoodie, your mouth finding his in a kiss that was everything, all the months, years of unspoken feelings, of stolen glances, of tension neither of you had been willing to name.

Max groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you against him like he needed you closer, like there was no air without you. He kissed you like he had been starving for this, like he had spent so long convincing himself he couldn’t have it that now, finally, he was never letting go.

You gasped against his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss, tilting his head slightly to deepen it, to savour it, to own it. His hands slid around your back, holding you flush against him, his heartbeat racing just as fast as yours.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to press his forehead to yours again, his breathing was uneven, his lips swollen from the force of it. His fingers trailed down your arms, finding your hands, lacing your fingers together, he let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” you asked, grinning as you fought to steady your breathing, still feeling the ghost of his lips against yours.

Max shook his head, brushing his nose against yours. “I just…I never thought I’d get this,” he admitted, his voice lighter now.

Your heart clenched at the honesty in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were something impossible that had somehow, miraculously, become real.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “I’ve felt like this for longer than you probably realise.”

“Oh Max…”

He shook his head. “No, I need to say this.” His hands squeezed at your waist, his touch grounding, reassuring. “I used to tell myself I was just looking out for you. That I was just annoyed whenever you talked about him because I didn’t care…but the truth is I was jealous. So fucking jealous.”

His confession sent warmth flooding through your chest, making your fingers tighten in his hands.

“I’d see you standing by him, always waiting, always looking at him like he was the only one for you, and I’d tell myself that it didn’t matter. That you deserved each other.” He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “But I could never really believe it.”

Your throat felt tight, your heart hammering against your ribs. “Max…”

“I spent so much time telling myself you’d never see me that way,” Max continued, his voice dropping even lower, more intimate. “That even if I wanted you, even if I needed you, it didn’t matter. Because he was always the one you wanted.”

Your breath caught, the truth of it settling deep inside you.

“But then…” He smiled, just barely, like he still couldn’t believe it. “You started choosing me. It wasn’t all at once. It was little things, sticking around in my garage longer than you needed to, texting me first, showing up even when you had no reason to.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his gaze dipping down for a fraction of a second before meeting yours again. “And I realised I couldn’t just be your backup plan. I couldn’t just be the person keeping you distracted while you waited for him.”

You exhaled shakily, tilting your head just slightly into his touch. “Max…” You exhaled shakily, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “You were never just a distraction. You were never a backup plan. You—”

“I know,” he interrupted, smiling more now. “I know that now.”

His fingers brushed over your jaw, achingly gentle, his thumb traced along your cheek, making it impossible to look anywhere but at him.

“For so long, I told myself it wasn’t real. That it was just something in my head. Something I could turn off if I wanted to.”

You felt your chest tighten at the confession, at how much weight he had been carrying alone.

“But then you started pulling away from him,” Max continued, exhaling sharply, his voice almost breaking. “And I—” He shook his head, like the memory itself made him unravel. “I realised I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want you.”

“When we first made that stupid plan I thought, this is my chance to help her. I thought, if I can just get her to stop waiting around for him, maybe she’ll be happy.” He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between yours. “But I never planned for you. I didn’t think I’d be the one falling harder every second we were together.”

“You’re the one who sees me,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not just when it’s convenient, not just when I’m standing right in front of you, waiting. You see me, even when I don’t know what I want. You make me feel like I matter,” you continued, your fingers smoothing over the lines in his jaw. “Not just because I’m there, not because it’s easy, but because you choose to. Every time.”

A shaky exhale left his lips.

And you weren’t finished.

“You’ve never made me feel like I had to earn my place with you,” you whispered, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I don’t have to be louder, or funnier, or wait for my turn. I don’t have to prove I belong with you. I just do. You are the person who makes me feel safe, who pushes me without ever making me doubt myself. You don’t just listen, you understand. You don’t just show up, you stay.”

“And it’s not just that,” you continued, voice steadier now. “It’s the way I see you too.”

“I don’t think you even realise it,” you murmured, shaking your head slightly. “How rare you are. How brilliant you are. How you notice things before anyone else does. How your mind works so fast it’s almost unfair.” You let out a small breath of laughter, your hand still cradling his jaw. “They don’t see how funny you are, how effortless it is for you to make people laugh, even when you’re not trying. How much you care even when you pretend not to.”

Before either of you could say anything else, he kissed you again, slow and deep and certain, like he was making up for all the time he had wasted. You sighed into it, your arms winding around his neck, your body pressing into his as his hands gripped your waist, anchoring you against him.

He kissed you like you were his like you had always been his.

“I hope you know,” he murmured against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there, “that I’m never letting you go now.”

A wide grin broke across your face as you squeezed his hands in return. “Good,” you whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Max let out a laugh, one full of relief, full of joy, full of you. He kissed you again, and again, and again, each one lighter, each one full of laughter, all full of something so impossibly right.

[meanbossart]

I am replaying Baldur's Gate and its kinda funny the loviatar'd blessing scene, yeah I get Shadowheart approving, Shar is kinda crazy and all.

But Astarion???? Wasn't you tortured a lot? What in the Paulo Freire, the dream of the opressed is to become the opressor was that?

LOL, I mean it seems pretty clear to me (and kind of imperative to his character) That Astarion enjoys seeing other people in pain and misery, or be set up for it.

He likes when you lie to Arabella's parents that she's alive, not because you're sparing them a harsh truth, but because it will make the news hit harder later. He likes when you tell the Absolute siblings to go and fight the Owlbear to "avenge" their brother because that's a clear death trap. He DOESN'T like if you tell Mayrina that her brothers are dead, because you're doing it to prove to her that the hag is evil rather than to rub the tragedy in her face (so ultimately with good intentions). He likes that you intimate people into doing your will and getting your or his way. His desire to cause harm seems to never have much rhyme or reason, rather just something that he gets entertainment out of.

I'm pretty sure that, regardless of approval, at that point in the story Astarion does Not like you or trust you and he's just delighted to see you do something that is harmful to yourself. I'm sure this is in part due to his past (just deriving pleasure from seeing Others suffer as he did. I'm guessing he got a similar kick whenever the other spawn were punished for something) but I think that's also partially just the person he is.

He's an extremely self-centered guy but as I like to say, he's a nice to the date, mean to the waiter type of person too. I don't think that when he starts to care for your needs that that's him being reformed - he's just extending an exception towards you now because you've become important to him. Not to say his perception of others and ability to feel empathy doesn't shift AT ALL, just not that drastically.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

Fang you are literally ruining my life. Being a friendly "older sister" figure in ness's life who inadvertently gets put into the position of "mother" for the two of them...

You're so sweet to Ness, so comfortably teasing and supportive... Something about Ness brings out the older sister in u and so u dote on him and take care of him and kaiser sees it all. Sees how it makes Ness improve, sees how it centers Ness in a way that kaiser can't, sees how it changes him in some imperceptible way that kaiser doesn't understand (that he tells himself he doesn't want to understand).

And because there is no Ness without kaiser, you take him on as well. You have bratty younger siblings too so u treat him as u would them. And it frustrates him more than a little. You don't take the bait. You just give him that knowing look like youve done all of this before, heard all of this before. And you tell him it's okay if he's feeling snappy. Does he want a drink? A snack? A nap?

You're more than happy to take care of him too if he'll let you.

And god help him, he wants to.

And god help him, he does.

It's minor at first. A warm smile and praise so buttery warm that he kind of wants to rip his own skin off, kind of wants to crawl into yours. A soft, almost absentminded pat on the head where he has to fight the urge to bite your hand (and he sees in your eyes that you know this and he sees in your eyes that the forgiveness is already there). A scarf, clumsy and handmade, that he rubs his face into until the smell of you fades.

And, as everything does, his feelings for you start twisting. His perception of you starts to shift just as his behavior does. He's not soft, not docile, but it's enough for you to notice. Enough for you to smile and praise and embrace him with your arms wide open.

He asks Ness point blank what he thinks of you. Blushing and nervous, Ness says that you're a friend. A really good friend. Kind of like a big sister, maybe?

And kaiser corrects him.

No, not like a big sister. More like a mom.

Kaiser hears the way ness' breath catches. Of course he does. There's excitement there. Embarrassment and shame too. That's fine, Kaiser can work with that.

Because Ness is sweet and docile. Ness and his big baby eyes and soft voice brings out the most nurturing warmth from you.

Which is why kaiser knows that this time, when he sends Ness to you with his quietly spoken platitudes and hopeful glances, you'll finally take the bait.

hold on . hold on Hold on hold on Hold on . hold on

[merriclo]

A Quick Analysis of the Tanizaki Siblings

With the release of chapter 118, it’s been officially confirmed that Naomi and Jun’ichirō are not blood-related, seemingly shifting their entire dynamic. this has, of course, resulted in many different opinions and stances within the fandom, and i wanted to share my own thoughts on it.

this post will briefly go over each of their characters and their relationship with each other. later on, i will be making a video essay going even deeper into it, because,, i genuinely can’t stop thinking about this.

content warning for discussions of incest and sexual assault, harassment, and abuse. please please please don’t read if these topics are too heavy for you. take care of yourself. this is also a repost, as the original post didn’t show up in any tags. you can read the original post, alongside a great addition, here!

in order to fully understand them together, we need to establish who they are apart. so, part one of this will be an analysis on Jun’ichirō’s character, part two of Naomi’s, and part three of their relationship.

Part One — Jun’ichirō Tanizaki

(i’ve already discussed a bit of Jun’ichirō’s character in one of my earlier posts, but i wanted to take the time to further elaborate on a few points i made. i wasn’t able to fit some other points in, though, due simply to them not being very relevant, so if you’re curious, go check that one out too!!)

Jun’ichirō is an incredibly fascinating character for multiple reasons. he thinks of himself as incredibly average. I’d like to call attention to this quote in particular. a fact exemplified by this quote:

“…Tanizaki felt he was mediocre at his job, held mediocre principles, and had a mediocre sense of justice, which made him a mediocre human being. He didn’t have the courage to talk back to or stand up to Dazai. Put simply, he was incredibly passive.”

this is found in A Day at the Detective Agency on page 42, a short story detailing how the Armed Detective Agency decided what Atsushi’s entrance exam would be, told through the third person perspective of Jun’ichirō.

these words, these claims of mediocrity, are his own. he truly believes himself to be an average, unassuming member of the agency. in other parts of the story, he calls himself timid (pg 37) and an ordinary guy (pg 54), and says that his smile always lacks self-confidence (pg26.) his genuine opinion of himself is that he’s nothing special.

despite this, we see time and time again that he is a trusted and valued member of the Agency. in the Cannibalism arc, he was left to face the entirety of the Black Lizard all by himself, and prevailed. Even Hirotsu, a veteran of the Port Mafia and leader of the Black Lizard—a man who spends his days surrounded by the most skilled assassins Yokohama has to offer—said that Jun’ichirō was terrifying, and perfectly suited for assassination. this is only exemplified by the fact that he almost succeeded in killing Mori, thwarted only by Kōyō at the last second.

in A Day at the Detective Agency, it’s said that Kunikida needed the help of the best of the best, meaning Him and Naomi (pg 42.) but Jun’ichirō brushes this off, saying that Kunikida only wanted Naomi’s help, but the siblings had become a kind of package deal, and that’s why he was also recruited to help him.

this boy’s esteem is horrifically low, and he refuses to see his own worth, making every excuse there is just to call himself normal. (this is the reason why i honestly view him in A Day at the Detective Agency as a a bit of an unreliable narrator: his own self-perception leads to many false statements, all primarily centered around himself.)

however, we as the audience know that Jun’ichirō is not at all normal. the moment someone he cares for is put in harms way, a switch flips in his mind and he becomes an incredibly dangerous person who will stop at nothing to try and save them. we see this first in chapter four when Higuchi shoots Naomi.

this is also the mindset that he was in when he battled the Black Lizard and attempted to assassinate Mori in the Cannibalism arc, as well as when he faced off against John Steinbeck and H.P. Lovecraft. most recently, this is shown in chapter 117 when Jun’ichirō threatens to rip an actual God (Ame-no-gozen) limb from limb. (i’d add photos of the panels but i have a very limited amount of pictures that i can add!! sorry (′︿‵｡) )

this willingness to abandon any and all morals should his loved ones be put in harms way is a cornerstone of his entire character. So long as it preserves the lives of the members of the Agency, he will do anything. and that isn’t limited to just killing someone, either. without hesitation, he volunteered himself to be the one traded off to the Port Mafia the moment the possibility of Yosano going there was mentioned.

furthermore, in a Bungo Stray Dogs exhibition, Asagiri claimed that Jun’ichirō is the closest to “evil” out of everybody in the ADA (exhibition translation found here!!) (also, it’s so interesting that the translator put sister in quotations. there really has been hints all along!!) this excerpt discusses the scene where Jun’ichirō faced off against John Steinbeck and H.P. Lovecraft, and tricked an innocent trucker into hitting his enemy using his ability Light Snow, causing a crash that the trucker would not be able to escape from unharmed. he did all of this just to ensure the safety of Naomi.

in summary: Jun’ichirō views himself as an incredibly mediocre, insignificant person, and he will do absolutely anything if it means saving his loved ones.

Part Two — Naomi Tanizaki

(warning this analysis is not the kindest to Naomi. if you don’t wanna read that, stop now!!)

Naomi is based off of the main female lead of the irl Tanizaki’s work Naomi—a story where a man tries to turn 15 year old Naomi into a Westernized woman, but ends up getting manipulated by her instead when she changes the power dynamic between them. (there’s.. many aspects of Naomi that i believe impact BSD, but ahajjdkdka that’s for another post.)

Naomi is introduced as Jun’ichirō’s obsessed sister. she is shown to be all over him, touching him inappropriately in public and singing his praises. she’s clingy, and doesn’t leave his side once.

but, there’s a lot more to her if you look closely.

firstly, she is incredibly intelligent. In A Day at the Detective Agency, she conspired with Dazai to cheat her way into being the hostage and Jun’ichirō being the bomber during Atsushi’s entrance exam.

“Startled, [Jun’ichirō] looked over at Naomi, who gazed back at him teary-eyed.

“I just…”

[Jun’ichirō] could see the hearts pulsating in his sister’s eyes. She covered her slightly crimson cheeks with her long, delicate fingers, then said, “I just wanted…to be your hostage so you could tie me up and threaten me, my dear, sweet brother…”” (pg 51.)

then, in the main series, she nearly caught on to the significance of Haruno’s cat, Mii-chan.

keep in mind, she is not one of the detectives. she doesn’t have an ability, and she hasn’t been trailed by Natsume for years like Fukuzawa and Dazai have. despite all of this, she picked up on this weird correlation before even Haruno, his owner, did. and let’s not forget how surprised both Fukuzawa and Mori were at the reveal of Natsume being Mii-chan.

furthermore, in chapter 23, in which Steinbeck and Lovecraft hunt Haruno and Naomi down, it’s shown that she remembered exactly what Dazai told her in regards to how she should act in an emergency situation.

not only did she execute this advice near-perfectly, but she planned ahead in order to do so. in fact, if it weren’t for Steinbeck’s ability, they would have easily gotten away.

Haruno says that she would bet on Naomi outclassing Jun’ichirō as a detective, and i have to agree with her. in A Day at the Detective Agency, Naomi’s little plan that i mentioned earlier went off without a hitch. granted, it was likely Dazai who laid out all the steps, but she executed it without error and fooled both her brother and Kunikida.

Naomi is also a highly trusted employee, despite only working part-time (A Day at the Detective Agency, pg 25.) she’s very close with Fukuzawa, and i’d go so far as to say that she acts as a kind of personal assistant for him sometimes. in chapter 15, she is the only Agency employee present alongside Fukuzawa for the between the ADA and The Guild, a very high-stakes and confidential meeting. she is also the only person to think of getting Fukuzawa in chapter 10 when the rest of the employees are bickering about whether or not they can save Atsushi.

(manga panels provided by the amazing @shin--soukoku !! i wasn’t able to access the English translations of this chapter, and they came to my rescue. thank you!!! <3 go follow them they’re so cool and smart and correct about everything.)

in summary: Naomi is freakishly intelligent, and she’s not afraid to use her wits to manipulate a situation to her advantage. she’s well-respected in the Agency, and has the connections to influence others.

Part Three — Their Relationship

(in this part, i will be discussing topics like incest and sexual assault, harassment, and abuse. if that is at all too heavy or triggering for you, please stop reading immediately. take care of yourself, and stay safe <3)

alright, first things first, let’s establish something: these two are siblings. i’ve seen many people that they are not, but i have to disagree.

not only do they commonly refer to each other as brother and sister, but it’s also up in the air as to whether or not Naomi is even aware of their lack of blood-relation. furthermore, two siblings not sharing any DNA doesn’t make them not siblings. fostered, adopted, and step-siblings are still siblings, and as such i will continue to view the Tanizaki’s as siblings. they see each other as brother and sister, and so that is what they are. their relationship is incestuous.

it is also not consensual.

it is stately clearly several times that Jun’ichirō does not enjoy what Naomi does to him, especially when they are in public. here are just a few examples, taken from the A Day at the Detective Agency short story:

“To make matters worse, [Naomi] always tried to have some sort of physical contact with her brother, regardless of location or who was around…. [Jun’ichirō] would start acting self-conscious every time, and his eyes would wander, but Naomi even seemed to enjoy her brother’s reactions.” (pg 26)

“Naomi softly traced [Jun’ichirō]’s collarbone with her fingernail…. [Jun’ichirō] turned red and blinked uncomfortably.” (pg 26)

“[Naomi had] also taken that as an opportunity to try to force herself on [Jun’ichirō], but he managed to escape.” pg. 33

to clarify, the first two quotes take place in front of several of the other detectives, and the third when the two are alone. when it’s said that Jun’ichirō’s eyes were wandering, it was later specified that he was looking at anything but her (pg 27.)

throughout the manga, Jun’ichirō also expresses that he’s uncomfortable with her advances in public. however, whenever he tries to stop her, she threatens or embarrasses him. this is an example of that as seen in chapter 4.

Jun’ichirō, for lack of a better term, resigns himself to this. despite the severe discomfort of himself and everyone who bares witness to them, he makes very few moves to stop her.

the reason for this is stated clearly on page 54 of, you guessed it, A Day at the Detective Agency.

“The only thing [Jun’ichirō] really even wished for was his little sister’s happiness.”

he will do anything if it means making her happy.

Naomi and Jun’ichirō relationship is very realistic in the sense that one person leverages the other’s love against them, as is the case in many instances of incestuous sexual abuse. it’s an incredibly common manipulation tactic, and it results in the abuse lasting for extremely long periods of time.

Jun’ichirō’s willingness to do whatever it takes to make Naomi happy is the very thing she uses against him, weaponizing the love they have for each other so that she can do whatever she would like to him.

and i do think that the love they have for each other is real, to a degree. in my opinion, Jun’ichirō does not see her in either a romantic or sexual light, but he does love her. meanwhile, Naomi absolutely views Jun’ichirō in a sexual way.

in addition to this, i think there’s also a kind of limerence going on between both of them. limerence is when someone has an obsessive, unrequited attachment towards somebody, often surfacing as a romantic or sexual fixation on them, or as pedestalizing them.

Jun’ichirō’s seems to surface as the latter, as seen here in chapter 24.

he’s surpassed just placing her on a pedestal, he’s placed her on the same level as the divine, hence his continued willingness to let her assault and harass him time and time again, despite his own displeasure.

(i would like to further emphasize that the fact that Jun’ichirō loves and idolizes her does not make what she does to him okay. what we see within the manga and light novels can be defined as sexual harassment/assault. furthermore, it’s implied several times that they’ve had intercourse. due to Jun’ichirō’s own blatant discomfort, and the reoccurrences of her manipulating and using threats against him, and how it’s said that Naomi forces herself on him and forces him into doing things, i’m not afraid to call it rape. i just wanted to make it extra clear that despite exploring their characters, i am not excusing anything she does. Naomi is an abuser, and Jun’ichirō is her victim.)

the Tanizaki siblings’ relationship can be summed up as this: Jun’ichirō will let Naomi do anything, so long as it makes her happy, and Naomi takes continuous advantage of this facts.

a very common theme in Bungo Stray Dogs is that the cycle of abuse is not without love, and that you can harm someone you love without intending to, and that you can love someone who has harmed you. Dazai cared for Akutagawa, the Headmaster cared for Atsushi, both Kōyō and Akutagawa cared for Kyōka, and Verlaine cared for Chūya. each of these relationships explore different kinds of abuse—mentor-mentee, mother-daughter, father-son, brother-brother—and the love that is often trapped inside of them. it’s one of my favorite things about this entire series.

this is a topic i will dissect much deeper in my video essay (of which’s release date i am still unsure of at the moment,) but i wanted to mention it here at the end here because i think the Tanizaki siblings are a very good representation of this.

that’s all i have to stay about the siblings at the moment. i’m sorry if some points seem under-supported, i had to leave out a lot to bend around tumblr’s image-limit and to keep this shorter than i originally intended. also my bad for any and all spelling or grammar mistakes, i tried to fix everything but i usually miss some stuff!

thank you so so much for reading all of my rambling thoughts about the Tanizaki’s, and i highly encourage you to add on your own thoughts (agreeing or disagreeing, i’m open to all conversations!!) in either the reblogs, the notes, or my askbox!! i only ask that you be respectful about it, as this is just an analysis i did for fun in my own spare time（⌒▽⌒ゞ thank you all so much again for reading, i know this was a bit of a long one <3

[sphacelating]

I wonder about Ashley going on that date. Andrew's attempts to escape Ashley - though futile and destructive - are certainly on display. But Ashley has hardly ever shown any interest in escaping Andrew in the same way, so it stands out a bit.

Maybe she didn't fully realize her feelings for Andrew until that conversation they had on the aniversary of Nina's death.

i don’t see it as any attempt on her part to escape andrew, just make the codependency more bearable for her. she doesn’t care to seek out the company of people who aren’t him, it feels pointless and unfulfilling to her at best and a sanity-draining kind of annoying at worst, but ashley’s life when it’s centered wholly and exclusively around andrew, who is all she has while he has a social life outside of her, is unbearably lonely. when she can’t have the constant attention and affection from the one person she wants and needs it from, she makes depressing attempts to find empty, dissatisfying placeholders. she doesn’t reduce them to that, she wishes she could like them, but they’re reduced to that simply because they’re not andrew. it isn’t easy, it’s fucking depressing, her frustration just keeps mounting, but she certainly tries here as andrew leaves her no choice.

she’s also a teenage girl. she repeatedly shows that she cares extremely little for societal expectations, fuck it, whatever, everyone already hates me and already thinks i’m weird and off putting anyway, but the boy-crazy girls she’s surrounded by are annoying her and if she goes on this date with douchebag, hopefully they’ll shut up about it.

i don’t think she recognizes what her feelings are for andrew aside from impossibly deep attachment, and that towards anyone and everyone else, she feels apathy. to her this “love” is that all her love is reserved only for him, he’s the only recipient and mirror she can put that love into. one of the main differences between the two siblings is that ashley perceives andrew as her brother first and foremost, potential possible future lover second, though she has not reached a point in her growth from kid to adult where she desires a shift in their relationship to include a full romantic aspect. even if i firmly believe she desires him romantically, she doesn’t recognize that as a distinct emotion separate from her desire for andrew to simply be her everything forever and ever until they die and share a coffin. even less sexually, because that will first require growing into adult sexuality and developing sexual desires— interest in that kind of physical intimacy. she is not there yet.

andrew, on the flip side, has prominent and strong sexual desires, and he views ashley as the object of his romantic and sexual attraction first and sister second. this causes his totally unnavigable mental and emotional conflict— he stopped seeing her as his sister as his incestuous feelings for her developed, and viewed her instead as a girl he wants to date and fuck, so intensely it became obsessive. to him, mentally and emotionally, in order for them to be romantic partners, they have to stop being siblings in any manner past being related by blood. again, this circles back to him simply growing up first and understanding what those desires mean.

until ashley stops being his sister, his responsibility, leyley whom he parents, he’ll always feel desire and equal disgust towards his feelings for her. ashley stubbornly insists on them staying that way, vehemently pushing to have his perception of her return to that, andy and leyley, brother and sister, and it clashes horribly with how he actually perceives her. to him, she’s been a teenage girl (roughly) his age and now a woman. one that he really, really, desperately wants to be sexually intimate with. i’d say his disgust stems more from that he is utterly repulsed by the idea of dating and having sex with a child.

this is also why he feels so very strongly about the claim that he’d ever prey on his baby sister.

this actually hurts and offends him. it’s clear as day again as he’s holding his sister’s body in the “don’t shoot andrew” ending, as that is leyley’s body.

the implication being: if this was ashley, he’d have no issue at all with putting his dick in her still warm corpse so he could finally have her at least once before he slits his own throat. (well. sure, what the hell. cheers to the sick and disturbed).

back to ashley. the prospect of andrew having a girlfriend or wife who is not her is extremely distressing to her, it would mean parting from andrew and having someone else enter his life to be more important than her, replace her, take him away, and this is obviously utterly unthinkable. so she has to be that person as well, it has to be her and no one else. and with where they’re at in the present day, it cannot be some day or eventually. she recognizes that she needs to fill those shoes now, or she’s terrified that andrew will leave.

she is wholly dependent on one person, andrew, to meet every aspect of her wants and needs, and then she will have to meet all of andrew’s. which she desperately wants to— she wants to be his everything the same way she wants him to be her everything. the issue isn’t that she doesn’t want to be andrew’s girlfriend, wife, conceptually. it is that she hasn’t grown into her sexuality yet and still, as just his sister, clumsily embraces what she thinks being a good girlfriend or wife to andrew entails.

she does this while completely lacking the necessary maturity and experience (more accurately, true curiosity about gaining that experience) to share an adult relationship with him. she participates to the extent of her ability before growing into any fully developed desire to be romantically and sexually intimate. naturally, this is an uncomfortable and scarring experience for her rather than enjoyable, as she’s very immature for her age, she’s not outgrown her metaphorical kid shoes and grown into her adult shoes, while her brother has been mature for his age his whole life and outgrew his years ago.

andrew needs her to grow up so that he can share a life with the woman he loves, and ashley needs to grow up to understand what wanting that beyond a doubt even feels like.

[lungthief]

Just discovered your Klema situationship art I'm enthralled

eee thank you :') it means so much to me that people are enjoying it, their dynamic is my absolute favorite to write/draw and i adore them as characters

tbh it was one of those things that began as a joke and then made a lot of sense to me once i started actually thinking about it—like ema and klavier both strike me as the kind of people who are pretty cavalier about physical intimacy but very guarded when it comes to emotional intimacy, so yknow. having a coworkers-with-benefits relationship would come easily as a sort of begrudging “they’re hot and it’s convenient and i don’t have to worry about all the messy emotional stuff because we agreed we don’t want that” thing (and in klavier’s case he doesn’t have to worry abt ulterior motives or whatever bc ema straight up Does Not Give A Shit that he’s famous and dislikes him quite a bit at the beginning) and also like. they both could use some stress relief lbr

anyway i think it’d be really interesting to see these two people—one of whom wears a very flirty, outgoing facade and another who is outwardly very prickly and jaded—slowly realize that they both have a bit of a kindred loneliness about them and actually develop a friendship out of something that was intended to be entirely perfunctory. especially after the events of AJ i mean holy shit talk about bonding over Sibling Issues

for ema specifically i think there’s initially a lot resentment toward klavier in terms of his success (prosecutor at 17/got a famous defense attorney slash friend of hers disbarred/international rockstar) and her own perceived lack thereof (failing to become a forensic scientist) which kind of weirdly drives her to start the whole thing in the first place after klavier repeatedly indicates that he’s attracted to her—like “well he may have done all these impressive things but he still wants me desperately despite how openly inimical i’ve been to him so he’s not above me” which like. first of all girl go to therapy but second of all her perspective then can shift a lot over time when she gets to know him little by little and finds out that he also has a lot of horrific insecurities and considers himself kind of a fuck-up and is crumbling quite a bit under the weight of everything

also it is just like. inherently very funny. like you know they absolutely do not advertise this arrangement literally at all so any time anyone else finds out that they were sleeping together at one point it completely alters that person’s perception of reality

anyway all this to say love them love messy fucked up characters with messy fucked up baggage and intimacy issues sorry for writing a literal dissertation about this. I Care Them

[neonravengames]

Info on MCs cousins 🗣️ ?

There are five!

Meyra (Oldest Twin)

Age: 5 years older than MC

Personality: Practical, nurturing, and fiercely protective of her siblings. Meyra often acts as a second mother, taking on responsibilities around the farm with quiet competence. She’s steady and unflinching, though she sometimes feels overshadowed by her younger siblings’ antics.

Strengths: Skilled in herbology and cooking, often blending the two to create healing remedies. She’s particularly talented at managing the household’s needs with limited resources.

Relationship with MC: Respectful and kind, but a little distant due to the difference in their upbringings. She admires MC’s determination but sometimes finds them frustrating.

Derish (Oldest Twin)

Age: 5 years older than MC.

Personality: Outgoing, headstrong, and charming. Derish loves to tease his siblings and is the most adventurous of the family, often sneaking out to explore the woods or nearby villages. Despite his carefree nature, he’s fiercely loyal and will throw himself into any fight to protect his family.

Strengths: Skilled with animals, particularly horses and the farm’s livestock. He has a natural charisma that endears him to everyone in the local community.

Relationship with MC: Playful and a little overprotective, treating MC like a younger sibling. He enjoys challenging MC’s wits and sparring with them verbally.

Nel (Middle Child)

Age: 4 years older than MC.

Personality: Curious, dreamy, and bookish. Nel is the most imaginative of the siblings, often caught daydreaming or sketching in the dirt instead of completing their chores. They have a love for stories and are fascinated by anything related to the fae or magic.

Strengths: Creative and resourceful, with a knack for finding unconventional solutions to problems. Nel is also a quick learner and often helps their father, Fatero, with small repairs.

Relationship with MC: Nel often asks MC questions about their life in the capital, treating them like the star of one of their stories. MC can send them letters after they meet.

Ulma (Second Youngest)

Age: 3 years older than MC.

Personality: Mischievous, loud, and energetic. Ulma is a whirlwind of activity, constantly getting into trouble or dragging her siblings into her wild schemes. Despite her chaos, she has a heart of gold and hates seeing anyone upset.

Strengths: Bold and unafraid of confrontation, Ulma often stands up for her siblings, even against adults. She’s surprisingly good at climbing and has been known to retrieve items no one else can reach.

Relationship with MC: Idolizes MC and tries to emulate their bravery, often to comedic or disastrous effect. She asks endless questions and follows MC around whenever they visit.

Julian (Youngest)

Age: Just a few months older than MC.

Personality: Sweet, shy, and observant. Julian is quieter than his siblings, often content to sit back and watch the chaos unfold. Despite his reserved nature, he has a sharp wit and often surprises his family with his perceptive comments.

Strengths: Artistic and musical, Julian loves singing and has a natural talent for it. He often sings while helping his parents, and his songs lift the family’s spirits.

Relationship with MC: Playful and affectionate, Julian views MC as a peer despite their differences. He loves sharing stories and songs with MC.

Family Dynamics

The siblings are close-knit despite their differences, and their farm life has instilled a strong sense of teamwork and loyalty.

Havera relies heavily on Meyra and Derish to help with the younger siblings, and the family dynamic shifts naturally depending on who is taking charge.

[eatanorange]

a small (687 words) message of remembrance for Josh - who died in the early hours of April 1st, 2021

CW: story of a friend who died by suicide but also crass/dismissive joking about it in the end bc he would have liked that lol, I do imply *how* but no gruesome detail. I don't have an objective perspective of how angsty this is, or if it needs different warnings, so feel free to let me know. I don't think it is/does but it's obvs a heavy sentiment regardless. take care if u see this/proceed 🤗

I thought about sitting here and making dick jokes like its 2009 on the other side of an actual landline again, it's almost been enough time for that to feel like something that honors more than it dismisses. Nostalgia for the sake of memory itself rather than a coping mechanism of grief. Almost.

But his sister is my best and longest friend, by proxy I knew him longer than anyone too, and better than my own siblings who are further away from us in age. So the depth of her bereavement haunts me far more than his death ever could. Sorry bro, I love you, I miss you, this is for you, the way you or I would cope is totally valid, but that's also my ride or die you left behind. You never dared to curse her out alone; I was always within running distance.

every year I do something, take off class/work, a ritual, a suicide infographic/prevention donation, something like this, and I do this to grieve for her too, so yeah, full casual remarks don't feel quite right, yet. (Not sure why it's like some goal we're trying to get to but I digress*)

We're going to hold some of this heaviness with her, then we can embody trickery for him, rest of the day, promise. He would have loved that, trust.

I mean, shit, he would have needed his own insurance plan by now, he would have been 27 this May. I've been older than him for 2 years (turning 23 was weird, his sister only a week and a half later than me), but he's been gone for 4, today. That's it? one length of high school? we made it that far. What do you mean we speed up as we get further away? Time shifts red and paints memories rose.

Years 1 and 2 felt like that's all? It's been forever. We were on the phone millennia ago, you were cackling when I told you to hit the car in front of you to get them out of the way. what do you mean that was a couple of months ago, that we're still in that year, not relative to the start date of your death? Setting new metrics was definitely a forte of his (musician).

Year 3 was different, both his sister and I were dating people we met in the absence of him. My ex and I bonded initially over having 'dead friends'. Something something a hill is less steep perceptively when you're looking down it with someone. Maybe it was Death that made the drop less daunting, more blue; He was using drugs and hallucinating the night he died, I'm referring to Death as he knows it/them, and I wonder if that's the same knowing now. Kind, quiet in the rush of wind, gentle to the misconceived, abided by the endurance of the survived.

You negate yourself when you die, but those who live will not negate you, yk? Sometimes people make that choice, we love them, we hate them, we grieve them, we feel the range of human emotions about it and we take on theirs too. That feels well known, now. There's no shame here, that was your killer first, I know.

Yet I'm going to tell you, as in you the reader now, to not kill yourself. It's not obligatory, it's not this that or the other, take it at face value, I don't want you to and I want you to want to live. That's a big ask from a stranger on the internet, isn't it? No stranger than Death to Josh before he met Them.

Hi. nice to meet you. Live.

I'm making you a cup of tea, I'm sitting with you in the mud in silence, I'm peeling you an orange, I'll kiss you on the forehead if that's the type of warmth you're looking for, but know you're also safe here when you want me to make jokes about crashing into other cars out of road rage; I might just ask you to promise to never jump into traffic even if its for dramatic irony (such a gemini thing to do, really josh? 🙄 and on APRIL FOOLS DAY-)

*Peep the meme from AP LANG college board test circa 2018 (I think)

*I wrote this on March 14th, 2025 and schedule posted because it felt right & that’s when the grief came up this year, if I'm amidst shenanigans when it drops*

Thank you for your time, for sitting here with Josh, his sister, and I, if you are in any pain - I hope it eases soon 🫶🏼

[titsthedamnseason]

the entire ben situation has the potential to be sooo good! his outbursts, him choosing hockey, his pinterest board, etc. if kbr fully lean into that, the cobalt series would be off to a great start. it reminds of when sulli mentions that ryke thinks all cobalts are mischievous, all but beckett, cause beckett is the kind one. and it would make total sense that ben is hides in that "sheep among lions" perception everyone has of him, when in reality he's a lion just like his siblings.

okay wow. this ask inspired me to do some perusing of kbr’s pinterest because it’s been ages since i looked through it and you can see the exact moment they decided to go this way with ben’s story and began shifting his aesthetic. the pictures go from really bright and nature-y with inspiring and uplifting and emotional sayings to all of a sudden really dark both in terms of color and tone. a lot more hockey is there but also more quotes about violence and rage, angry looking photos, and even one of a man leaning over a bottle of hard liquor and an empty bottle looking agonized 😭😭😭

and yes that ryke quote is so true! we can never forget how well the meadows know ben through his friendship with winona (there is even a patreon bonus where ryke fully admits ben is his favorite nephew 💀)

i can’t wait to see him connect with his brothers and find his place in the cobalt family 💙

[lichtundschattens]

‘ lee dong-wook, cis man, he/him, 40 / 400 , illyrian ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems IM JAE-SUNG has been teleported to the dusk court, the GENERAL OF THE ARMIES from THE DAWN COURT is said to be PERCEPTIVE and is said to describe themselves with EVERY LITTLE MOVE YOU MAKE BEING COMPLETELY CALCULATED AND PRECISE, AN ICY AND UNWAVERING GAZE CUTTING THROUGH THE WORLD LIKE A BLADE, MASTERING THE ART OF WAR AND DISCIPLINE TO THE POINT OF MUSCLE MEMORY, A RAGE THAT MAY BE CONTAINED BUT NEVER FULLY TAMED BURNING QUIETLY WITHIN THE DEPTHS YOUR SOUL and with all of this in mind their CRITICAL nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

THE BASICS;

full name: im jae-sung

aliases: jae, jason

age: 40/400

occupation: general of the armies

alliances: the dawn court

species: illyrian

personality (+): perceptive, tactful, resilient, ambitious

personality (-): stubborn, critical, cold, competitive

inspirations: dabi/toya todoroki (my hero academia), levi ackerman (attack on titan)

THE STORY SO FAR; tw: abuse

You are the firstborn, unaware that two more siblings are destined to follow. Born to a proud and severe Illyrian father, and a mother who passively allows his will to dominate, your path was decided long before you had a say in it. From the start, it was expected that you would become a warrior—greater even than your father and all those who came before. As an obedient child craving warmth and affection, you did as you were told, hoping to earn their approval. But the love you longed for never came. The severe beatings that came with your failures were the only memories that ever came to you.

“A prodigy,” they called you. “Near perfection,” they would whisper. But never perfect. “You have so much potential, and yet you waste it with your flaws,” they would say. These words took root in your mind, festering into a deep frustration—a silent rage fueled by the impossibility of ever pleasing your father.

When your younger brother grew, a new kind of resentment bloomed within you. Not enough to wish him harm, but enough to ignite a fierce need to prove yourself better. You were told you would be better, and you believed it. You were determined to never let him surpass you. You pushed him hard, never letting him forget that he would never win the recognition you fought so bitterly for. For a time, you stayed ahead, making sure he knew his place.

But with the arrival of your youngest brother, something shifted. The years pass, and slowly, you begin to realize that the hate you thought you harbored for them wasn’t hate at all. Despite being pitted against them by your father, you felt no true malice toward your siblings. In this realization, you found something greater than your father’s approval—you found your own worth. This moment became the turning point of your life. It was here that you began to carve a path toward recognition, not from others, but from yourself.

You were worth more than the life you had been given—a life steeped in hatred, anger, and violence. As you grew older, you began to rebel, not just in small ways, but in ways that would make your father despise you. You tried to show your brothers the truth you had uncovered, to help them see their own worth beyond his expectations. But they turned a blind eye, unwilling or unable to break free as you had. And then it became clear: if you wanted happiness, you would have to save yourself. You would have to leave everything behind.

On that fateful night, you stood up to your father. For the first time, you raised your hand against him—and for the last. The look in his eyes burned into your memory: disbelief, shock, and betrayal. He called you a failure, wasted potential, a warrior destined to amount to nothing. But you knew he was wrong. That night, you left your family behind, and you never looked back. It remains the least regrettable decision you’ve ever made.

Now, you live with no regrets, free from the life that once sought to bind you.

TL;DR: eldest of his siblings, once pitted against them and lived life full of hatred and anger. eventually realized this was not a way to live and ran away. now living like larry in the dawn court <3

[magicksgameroom]

Magick's Lore Master Post!

Oh hai there. So I'm still building lore, I'm so adhd I made model first, and now well..... now I have to tell my story! I found this super long list of character stuff and I guess this will just be an ever evolving master post as I find the answers to these questions myself! THIS IN IN NO WAY A COMPLETED LIST!! I just wanted a spot to put this, so I can update it as needed!

Character Chart Character’s full name: Magick Stardust Reason or meaning of name: Character’s nickname: Reason for nickname: Pronouns: They/Them and Fae/Faer Birth date: Hard to explain, since time works differently in the fae wild than it does here

Physical appearance Age: Unsure, somewhere around 250 years old, but since time works differently in the fae wilds, I'm not sure How old do they appear: 27 Weight: 165 Height: 5'6" Body build: Slim but curvy Shape of face: Eye color: Purple Glasses or contacts: No Skin tone: Tan Distinguishing marks: Predominant features: Shifting features, common occurances are horns (brown, pink, and orange in color as seen above), wolf/puppy ears (varying in color to fit mood/outfit), tipped ears due to fae heritage, fangs Hair color: Shifts at will, most common colors are a purple/black, lilac and white Type of hair: Predominantly long and straight but can vary Hairstyle: Varied, common occurrences are long and straight, messy ponytail with braids, viking style braids, and a high long ponytail Voice: Overall attractiveness: 10000/10 imo Physical disabilities: None Usual fashion of dress: Cyberpunk/cybergoth Favorite outfit: See above! (Will change picture as outfit changes!) Jewelry or accessories: Varied!!

Personality Good personality traits: Bad personality traits: Mood character is most often in: Sense of humor: Character’s greatest joy in life: Character’s greatest fear: Why? What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Character is most at ease when: Most ill at ease when: Enraged when: Depressed or sad when: Priorities: Life philosophy: If granted one wish, it would be: Why? Character’s soft spot: Is this soft spot obvious to others? Greatest strength: Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Biggest regret: Minor regret: Biggest accomplishment: Minor accomplishment: Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Why? Character’s darkest secret: Does anyone else know?

Goals Drives and motivations: Immediate goals: Long term goals: How the character plans to accomplish these goals: How other characters will be affected:

Past Hometown: Type of childhood: Pets: First memory: Most important childhood memory: Why: Childhood hero: Dream job: Education: Religion: Finances:

Present Current location: Currently living with: Pets: Religion: Occupation: Finances:

Family Mother: Relationship with her: Father: Relationship with him: Siblings: Relationship with them: Spouse: Relationship with him/her: Children: Relationship with them: Other important family members:

Favorites Color: Least favorite color: Music: Magick's theme song is One of a Kind by Neffex (I'll add a whole playlist of music here when I can!) Food: Literature: Form of entertainment: Expressions: Mode of transportation: Most prized possession:

Habits Hobbies: Plays a musical instrument? Plays a sport? How he/she would spend a rainy day: Spending habits: Smokes: Vapes! Drinks: Other drugs: 420 friendly here! What does he/she do too much of? What does he/she do too little of? Extremely skilled at: Extremely unskilled at: Nervous tics: Usual body posture: Mannerisms: Peculiarities:

Traits Optimist or pessimist? Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Logical or emotional? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Animal lover?

Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: One word the character would use to describe self: One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? How does the character think others perceive him/her: What would the character most like to change about himself/herself:

Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Person character most hates: Best friend(s): Love interest(s): Person character goes to for advice: Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Person character feels shy or awkward around: Person character openly admires: Person character secretly admires: Most important person in character’s life before story starts: After story starts:

[kiigan]

ㅤ«At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I believe most people are easy to read - if only one takes the time and patience to search past the superficial layers.»

ㅤWhich indirectly confirmed that, yes, he very much had noticed the slight bump in Senritsu's mood but, at the same time, it also conveyed that he thought of her no less because of it. In a way, it wasn't that she was easy to read, rather that Itachi himself was incredibly perceptive. With everything good and bad that such a skill entailed. And she wasn't much different herself, was she? She also seemed able to catch and understand minute changes, which the Uchiha assumed to be related to some kind of ability he was not yet familiar with. If she'd not belittled him for being caught at such late hour wandering the streets aimlessly like a stray weasel cat, then surely he would offer her the same level of courtesy.

«Nothing to apologize for.»

ㅤLet the topic die there. Sometimes, the only thing we can do with our trauma is to keep it from devouring us whole, by whatever means necessary. Avoidance and repression were nothing to be ashamed of, and he knew it [had forcibly learned it] from extensive self-experience. Also, there was a hearty vegetable soup to look forward to, no need for past tragedies and somber musings. Straightening himself up a little more, ever one to sit in poise and elegance as was to be expected of the heir of one of Konoha's most ancient and noble clans, Itachi caught a strand of rebellious hair behind his ear and then brought his elbow back to the surface of the counter, chin going to rest on that palm. 

ㅤUp until the moment a slight shift in the air caught his attention and his sharingan activated on its own, just in time to predict how Senritsu's hand was about to touch his arm. Which, frankly, he would not have minded. Unprompted touch from strangers was never something he felt comfortable with who knew when was the last time they'd washed their hands, yet this woman so far had been nothing if not kind to him. But that hand stopped midway and dropped like a baby bird flopping off the nest after trying to take flight for the first time, and he respected that choice as well. Spontaneity between them had yet to show bad results, and so his irises once more reverted back to black.

ㅤ«The birth of a sibling,» Itachi repeated, then, his entire demeanor immediately changing when speaking those words and putting a face to them. Like light entering a dark room through a small gap in the ceiling. For what had Sasuke always been, if not the spark that gave meaning to his life? Maybe he could concede defeat in this one part of the argument, without getting too stubborn about it. «I'd never thought of it as a surprise, but you do make a good point.» It made him momentarily wonder, even, what his reaction would be nowadays if their parents were to announce yet another child to come. ...A very awkward thing to think about, somehow. It was so much easier to process for one young enough to not know how babies were made. Pursing his lips, Itachi vehemently pushed any further considerations about Fugaku and Mikoto's intimacy to the very back of his mind, to go hang out with circumstances far more traumatic and far less embarrassing.

ㅤ«I suppose I can also call it a surprise, that I would finish the day bonding with someone over matters as far apart as the shared role of elder sibling and the mutual dislike of fish flavors.»

For a moment, just a moment, Itachis heartmelody changed- became attentive, focused, knowing, like the heartbeat of a cat who had just found a mouse. A limping mouse, caught with taking care of the injury just for a second. Yet the melody was also very gentle- Itachi did not judged her; in fact he had been the mouse before Senritsu figured and felt a spark of worry in her chest. "Mhmmm, am I that easy to read? Really, I thought I was a lot of more misterioso." the woman smiled ruefully up to the other- she could hear that him knowing that there had been something in her mind, that her voice had trailed off just for a second, had made him remember something. She did not knew what, Senritsu was after all not a mindreader although some people felt like she was in fact reading their mind and reacted just as defensive and shamed over her ability, but it did not changed the fact that she could only made assumptions. Beneath her sleeve the scars on her left arm had started to ache, a quiet, soft throbbing like second heartbeat so she did not thoughtfully tapped her fingers against her chin but Senritsu still looked up smiling gently: "Its alright, Itachi-san. No need to sing me that song." Don´t think about that (about the song), she thought. Don´t think about that and burden yourself, Itachi (that song should not be listened to). Don´t think about that and burden yourself, Itachi, that is not yours to carry (its already too much that I had heard the song). "That is nothing you have to know or worry about. I am sorry, you had to notice that. Just forget what you noticed,yes?" there was a long, almost relieved sigh from her lips when a second later Itachi chosed to not comment on her hestiation.

Smiling back Senritsu lifted a hand to get the cooks attention and ordered the vegetable soup for Itachi.

But over the sound of the cook cutting the vegetable,s over the sound of the blubbering soup, over the sound of the tofu beeing grilled before added to the soupbowl, Senritsu heard something else. Something that almost sounded like regret. Automatically the musician reached out for the others arm with a small hand, aiming to lay a hand on his forearm comfortingly. But her hand never reached his arm. But her hand stopped in the middle of the way. But her hand sank down to the wooden counter, tapping a comforting melody against the wood as she would have against his arm. Senritsu did not wanted to make the other uncomfortable, not more than whatever was circling unforgettable in his mind like a neverending echo already made him feel. "What am I hearing?" ,Senritsus voice was very gentle, dancing along the soft act of her fingers against the wood: "Sometimes surprises can be dolce. The birth of a sibling when one is still too young to understand the mechanics? That sure was a surprise for tiny-me, and now I have three younger siblings whom I love very much. Or meeting a stranger with a dolcissimo chuckle in a foreign town. That sure was a surprise, too. And now I am enjoying it and eat soup with him." she smiled reassuringly, winking up to the other playfully. [ @kiigan ]

[0pexigon0]

Bruno x male!reader

Sleeping arrangements with Bruno :]

The relationship between the both of you are married btw

Sleeping positions:

•Usually ranges but the all time favorite position is when both of their legs are tangled with Bruno’s head on his husband’s chest, hands tangled in the rat man’s hair and his placement in between [Name]’s legs

•Both of them will wake up in different positions; one time [Name] woke up on the floor

Sleeping habits:

•[Name] sleeps in his boxers, which isn’t that big a deal to Bruno, unless he also sleeps without a shirt. Sometimes it gets too hot in Bruno’s room….

•At times, [Name] wakes up in a cold sweat for no reason. And I’m not talking about just waking up and sitting there. I’m talking about jolting in the bed, muttering, sweating and all that eventually leads to waking up and almost bursting out of the bed, out of breath and a ringing nerve in his head.

•This scares the absolute shit out of Bruno sometimes. The jolting wakes him up a bit but he’s too unconscious to do anything and doesn’t realize it’s his husband, then just as he’s about to go to sleep he swears he can hear the words “future, past… cabinet, counter… money, jawbreaker and mom” and the words ‘mom’ definitely makes him go wide eyed and glance at the victim of his dreams: [Name]. Then he would wipe the sweat off his wedded’s forehead and neck, gently trying to soothe him into good dreams. If that doesn’t work and [Name] bursts awake, he’ll be there, oh he will be there to comfort the hell out of the other

•Often Bruno has nightmares about being shunned by his family again, considering the all time favorite sleeping position, [Name] is hella perceptive enough to notice. Bruno sweats, which in turn [Name] wipes the sweat off and tries to keep him cool, next, Bruno cries in his sleep so his lovely husband will wipe his tears away and gently try and shake him awake. 9/10 gently waking him up works…

•[Name] has an achy knee, probably from genetics. So he takes meds every morning and night to try and soothe the pain. If those “weird” dreams don’t wake him up in the middle of the night then the knee pains will. Shifting in the bed to the built in bathroom to Bruno’s room will wake the owner of the two rooms up. He’ll squint his eyes to try and adjust the light to at least try and see your figure. Once he sees your build going into the bathroom he will just go right back to sleep like nothing ever happened.

•Bruno is a very light sleeper and the walls of the casita often creak either from the casita moving or setting. This doesn’t necessarily scare Bruno awake as much as just making him shift in bed a bit. There was only one time the house scared him awake and it was the casita trying to wake him up for a reason he can’t even remember.

•If [Name] is having trouble sleeping then he’ll just fidget with Bruno’s hair, how long it takes for him to sleep depends on the many braids and mini hairstyles Bruno wakes up with. His hair is thick and curly so [Name] helps him take out all his hairstyles. Bruno thinks it’s like a quirk to his amor’s habits but the other thinks it’s funny, a little bit…

•Bruno has lived in the walls for ten years, so that means he is used to claustrophobic spaces. So, often times if not enough, he would huddle up against [Name]’s chest, as in cheek pressed against his stomach type way, and hug the living shit out of [Name] to try and simulate that enclosed space feeling again, not because he wants to but because it’s just pure instinct.

•Bruno’s skin can be really dry so [Name] created the perfect lotion for Bruno’s skin type. It also builds more color in his skin because he looked kind of gray compared to his siblings in the movie, most likely from lack of sunlight. He hates the cold feeling of the lotion but the other could give less of a shit: as long as Bruno didn’t look like a dying man…

•Speaking of his lack of sunlight, vitamins. [Name] grabbed all the proper vitamins he could get his hands on, put them all in a large container and tells Bruno to take two every morning first thing. And Bruno doesn’t even know what they do, if [Name] tells him to take it he will take it.

•In my opinion, Bruno wouldn’t be that worried if he woke up in the middle of the night and didn’t find [Name] in his room. It would take a couple hours until Bruno does eventually come down to see the other man playing animals with Antonio, or cooking with Julieta (at 3 in the morning?), or soothing one of the children back to sleep

•A funny little Headcanon I like is when the reader is gifted but their gift is time control seconds back to the past

•Often, Bruno isn’t affected cause of his relation to time control, so both of them are both reluctant to use their gift

•This isn’t even related to the theme of the post I just thought it was a great idea :]

•Last one before I continue with the sleeping headcanons but using too much of [Name]’s gift will get him… “sick”. Not as in a flu sick, as in his nose bleeding, him going pale, lightheaded, not being able to walk properly at all. In reaction to this, Bruno would go into his tower and in that one room, laying [Name] gently there and waiting for the symptoms to resign.

•Anyways, continuing on

•Bruno takes melatonin (a completely safe sleeping medicine :]), and that stuff gets him sleepy as hell, but the dreams he had are weird as hell

•He remembers this dream clear as day; something about Pepa and Julieta force feeding him cactuses and Camilo turning into Abuela and Abuela talking to Maribel about her grades… something like that

•[Name] only took melatonin once. Only once in his life and never again. His dream made him sick to his stomach: never again.

[moonfishcake]

hello! i love your writing - could i ask if you could do yandere headcanons of aether and lumine deciding to teamup and keep a lover between them. how it happens and what happens if you try to leave them is what i'm most curious about.

hello! thank you so much for this ask, it was very interesting to write about the travelers - and i am so sorry it took so long!! i hope you enjoy~

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships

It is already quite impressive that you have managed to capture the fleeting interest of both Lumine and Aether. These siblings are Travelers at heart, those who prefer to relish the moment rather than chain themselves down to a feeling, a person.

But you are an exception. An unresolved mystery, perhaps an answer from this world? Whatever the case, they are your destiny. You must have been the hidden purpose for their travels all along.

After all of the trouble they went through to stabilize Teyvat, in their mind they more than deserve a little reward, a trophy of sorts - and you fit all of the criteria.

It’s not surprising that they’ve both grown fond of you - after all, they’ve been close for as long as they remember, always fighting over the same toys even as children.

Lumine is the one who is more ruthless, ready to draw a sword. She would not hurt Aether, but a fight to decide the winner who gets to claim the foils of the war seems appropriate. After all, if they both keep chasing you like lost puppies, they will just get in each other’s way.

Aether would be the one to suggest an alliance - they have always been stronger together, after all, so would it not make sense to join forces over a common goal?

And thus a scarily efficient yandere duo is born. Power, charm, wit multiplied, enough to rival the Archons themselves.

If you are quick to trust and somewhat susceptible to emotional manipulation, Aether will be the one to approach you. A harmless man with a heart of gold and the disposition of a puppy - he’ll find a way to worm into your heart, either by becoming your confidant or guilt-tripping you, or better yet through both means.

Whatever weighs on your heart, he’ll sort it for you! He’s been running commissions all day, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t help you out? Why are you flinching away from his touch? Ah, he knew it. No matter where he goes, to what world he travels to, no matter how many heroic deeds he performs, he will always be an outsider. There is no place for someone like him. He was already too greedy to be in your presence...

It would be difficult not to feel some sympathy or kindness, and even an ounce will only fuel Aether’s obsessive pursuit. It’s not just you that he’s manipulating - as of recent, even your closest friends and family seemed to have grown fond of him, to the point of pressuring you to return his feelings.

He’ll go to any lengths needed to push you into his arms. Lumine is the one who’ll likely work behind the scenes. The scary stalker that chased you down the street, flashing a silver blade at your throat? Perhaps Aether should walk you home from now on, to ensure you’re safe. You wouldn’t want anything like that happening again, correct? After all, next time you might not be as lucky...

Someone trashed your house and carved threats all over your wooden door? Perhaps it would be best if he stayed the night... Of course, it’s nothing suggestive! Just to ensure your safety.

If only you were a little more perceptive, you’d notice how Aether’s face shifts from a superficial concerned frown to deceit filled smirk as he catches something mere meters away from you, shuffling around in the shadows.

And just like that, if you give in to his manipulations, he’ll weave himself into all of your affairs. He’s always there at your lowest moments, caressing your hand and back to help with your sobs. He has the means to make everything right in your world - you just have to say the word. That’s not to say the threats to your life reduce - no, they are ever present, so don’t even think about casting him aside.

He is suffocating - always so close, breathing down your neck every living second, claws deep in every matter that concerns you. Like a parasite who feeds on your fear, who fuels it further to provide itself with sustenance. It clicks in your mind that your misfortunes started raining down the moment he entered your life, and you grow to despise his presence.

It’s Lumine who steps in then, and offers you some respite. In your eyes, she saves you from her brother’s obsessive ways. My brother, he can be annoying sometimes, she says, and you miss the mischievous glint in her eyes, always so clingy, always so whiny - but here, take her hand, she’ll take you on a little adventure. Isn’t it an honour to travel alongside Mondstadt’s fabled hero?

There is no reason for you not to trust her. She is the beckon of beauty and heroism, and just being in her presence is a privilege some would pay for. And perhaps it is not that wrong of you to long for freedom after Aether’s suffocating ways, to long for adventure and a breath of fresh air after living a life that pales in comparison to twins’.

And she is nothing like her brother - she is aloof, barely stealing glances at you, always focused on the task ahead. It’s a breath of fresh air, freedom that you so longed for, and you cannot help but feel grateful for her - unknowingly falling for another trap the siblings set up for you.

Lumine does not lure you in with sweet words and comforting gestures like her brother - instead, she lures you through the beauty of the outside world that would only unravel before a traveller. She knows so many people, all who beam upon her arrival and drag you in for festive dinners. She knows the fields overgrown with your favorite flowers, she knows Liyue’s most influential merchants who can tailor you any garment, any device; she knows all of the heroes and the villains, who unfold before you like a storybook.

But the moment you take her hand, it’s game over. She pulls you into a world of adventure, but that of violence as well, where your survival hinges on her. The time spent with her feels more like a demonstration of power, a demonstration of your weakness rather than the innocent getaway you assumed initially.

She tramples enemies before you mercilessly, and cruelly saves you just seconds before a hilichurl’s spear pierces your chest. She toys with your life as though it’s nothing but a game. After all, how could someone who has travelled so many words understand the petty worries of you, the person who has not stepped outside their home town?

You plead with her to let you go, but her eyes are unfeeling. She has been upset with you ever since you rejected Aether’s (and by extension, her) advances, so you be reminded of your place - which is right by their side.

“Do you understand now? We are strong, twins destined to save Teyvat and bring peace unto these lands. And you, you are weak. Our meeting was written in the stars long before we were born - do you truly believe you have the power and the right to oppose it?”

It doesn’t matter to which one you yield - Aether’s emotional exploitation and manipulation, or Lumine’s threats and harsh words. Even if it takes to kidnap you, they will.

And no one will be there to rescue you. After all, who would oppose Teyvat’s heroes? The Acting Grand Master and Knights of Favonius, who’d kiss the very ground the twins walk on?  The citizens of Liyue, with their unwavering gratitude towards the heroes that saved the city from drowning? Or Inazuma’s clans who themselves enlisted twins’ help to restore their great country?

You are a sacrifice everyone is willing to make for the ‘greater good’. A trophy for all of the twins’ troubles and woes in saving the world they don’t even belong to.

If you decide to leave... Well, if you go for the straightforward way of running away, safe to say you will not make it far. These two have heightened senses from all those years of travelling and battling (and daily commissions), so they’ll probably know when and where you’re trying to run off to. Lumine’s the one who’ll come chasing you, pinning you to the ground with her blade at your throat - betrayal is such an ugly thing, but she is willing to forgive you.

That’s not to say your little escape attempt will not have repercussions. Lumine will be the one administering punishments, wondering aloud if you should be allowed to live now that you’re broken a promise, their trust. Perhaps the stars made a mistake - and they, the omnipresent, new gods of Teyvat, should be the ones to correct such error.

And just when you’re scared to the point of submission and trembling and begging for your life, Aether waltzes in and comforts you, wrapping his arms around you, petting your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. And you have no choice but to cling to him, the only person in the world that shows you kindness, even though you know it’s a ruse, and you know they are both smirking as you sob into his shoulder. This is exactly where they wanted you, after all.

Even if you somehow manage to make it to any nearby town, at this point people know who you are, or rather, who you belong to. No one dares to challenge the twins - not because they are scared of them, but rather, they are scared of what the twins represent. Who could replace them in defending Teyvat? They were sent by the stars after all, and it would be foolish to reject their favour. It’s easier to tie you up in the shed and report your whereabouts, turning the blind eye to your bloodcurdling screams and cries for help.

If you decide to take the pacifistic route, with the reasoning that you cannot possibly escape them, you can try to talk to them - you’re not happy, you want to go home, and if they love you, they surely must let you go? Expect Aether to be the one to sit down and pat your head in the most patronizing manner. Gaslighting and guilt-tripping are second nature to him after all. The conversations with him make you dizzy, because you truly don’t remember anymore if you said those things, if you promised to be by their side no matter what, for the sake of Teyvat  - they both twist your words, twist your feelings, experiences, secrets to their liking. They loom over you like shadows, preying on your self-doubt and fears.

Lumine chimes in with her share of threats - can you sustain yourself in the world as it is now? If you leave, the twins will not lift a finger to protect Teyvat. Are you ready to bear the consequences and see nations collapse, knowing that you could have prevented this were it not for your selfish reasons?

Ultimately, the twins will always be together - and you, you’ll be there with them, for as long as you live.

That is what the stars foretold, after all.