#instinct and intellect

[faelingdraws]

a PSA about the chatlog iterators and how you can use them in fanon content

[midnight-scugs]

Just a little height chart reference thing here for the hell of it + some basic design stuff + heavy iterator generation lore. Warning; this gets LONG, so the rest after the height chart is under the cut. Massive lore dump inside, be prepared.

The height order of the main iterators mentioned in this AU, from tallest to shortest, is Wind > Suns > Moon > Pebbles > Sig > UI.

UI is pretty much around as short as iterators get, Suns is around as tall as normal iterators get. For comparison; UI pretty much comes up to around mid chest height on Suns.

Wind is a special case and is one of the tallest select few because they're a patriarch. For another comparison, Suns comes up to their shoulder at best. The tallest patriarch however, and iterator as a whole, is Omen; they're at least a solid head taller than Wind.

Patriarchs, who mark the beginning of the first generation and the creation of iterators as a whole, are absolutely massive and are just generally quite bulky due to technological limitations so early in, making the progress towards a more streamlined design a later trait. They're built to last over to look good. There's more dramatic head shape variation in patriarchs than in other iterators. They tend to have dull main colors, often shades of gray, with bright markings.

Patriarchs are the centers of regional groups (multiple clusters of local groups forming a broader region), in charge of keeping watch of and keeping order in their regions. They're the ones who big issues are brought to, and their cities can pass laws that effect the entire region, although this level of involvement is rare.

Patriarch examples include:

Wandering Omen; they have a light gray puppet with green markings, a more blocky/squarish head shape, and short, straight gray antennae.

Chasing Wind/Grey Wind; they have a medium gray puppet with orange markings, a longer face (think that common Pebbles design trope type of head design), and long, mostly straight gray antennae.

Epoch of Clouds; they have a dark gray/nearly black puppet with light blue/cyan markings, a very round head shape, and gray antennae with a curled/curved shape starting about halfway to the tips.

First generation iterators are generally on the taller side and are rarely below where falls Pebbles in height, most being around the same height as Moon give or take a bit. After the time of creating the patriarchs, the rest of the iterators in this generation were generally designed with a very friendly appearance in mind, to help further increase public favor towards iterators. They often have a more rounded/"soft" looking build, although there are a few rare exceptions, and they typically have softer features and friendly looking design traits such as rounded or circular heads, vibrant or pastel color schemes, and big antennae. Not a lot of points and edges, lots of curves.

First generation iterators typically hold important roles in their local groups, and are usually the first sources younger iterators go to for guidance. Quite a few are group seniors; the heads of local group who act as leads of sorts, ranking directly below their patriarchs and reporting to them any issues that need greater interference than what they themselves have authority over. They are as vital to the functions of their local groups as patriarchs are to their regional groups.

First generation examples include:

Secluded Instinct; they have a light dusty blue puppet with yellow markings, a head shape similar to Moon (but a bit more tapered at the chin), and short, rounded dark gray antennae. They have a slightly slimmer build than a lot of first generation iterators, but still a bit rounded/"soft" looking. They're a local group senior under Omen.

Sliver of Straw; she has a dull cream puppet with darker cream markings, a round/circular head shape, and long, thin, straight antennae shaped similarly to thin rods. Her rather muted color scheme is notably somewhat rare for this stage in the generation. She has a similar build to Instinct. She's a local group senior under Epoch.

Looks to the Moon (we all know more or less how she looks); she has a turquoise(?) puppet with red markings, a rounded face shape, and somewhat rectangular light gray antennae. She has a more rounded/"soft" build that's typical of her generation. She's a local group senior under Wind.

Second generation iterators vary heavily in design overall, from height to build to colors to common traits. This was by far the longest generation, spanning at least 1000 kilocycles, and it shows in the sheer number and variety of iterators created during this time period. Quite a few of them have more unusual physical traits, as during this time the Ancients experimented with just about anything at least once. Technology was improving and changed heavily over the duration of this generation.

While iterators of this generation are typically no longer group seniors, early second generation iterators are also common sources of advice to turn to, and they may temporarily fill in for their seniors for certain tasks in the case of said senior being away, incapacitated, or otherwise temporarily occupied.

Second generation examples include:

No Significant Harassment; he has a green puppet with lighter green markings, a rounded face shape, and light gray antennae bases with no "proper" antennae. He has a very rounded, stocky build, more so than even a lot of first generator iterators such as Moon. He has a screen/LED type display for a face in order to make him more expressive; looking too closely or when his display is off can get creepy however, as what resembles pupils in the display are actually typical iterator eye cameras that are more visible due to the screen. He at one point filled in for Moon and acted as her replacement for a rather important project she couldn't supervise at the time.

Pleading Intellect; they have a pale gray puppet with orange markings, a slightly tapered head shaped (sort of a heart shaped face look), and long, mostly straight dark gray antennae. They have a medium to somewhat thin build.

Seven Red Suns; they have a light yellow puppet with red markings, a tapered head shape (their face more resembling a mask in a way than anything), and long, outwards pointing triangular dark gray antennae. They have a very thin, almost lanky build. They have quite a few odd traits. They have expressive antennae that are mobile sideways, unlike normal iterator antennae. They have very unusual eyes with colored "iris" lights in the usual black eye; the right is red and has an actual camera capable of zooming and taking pictures, the left is gold/yellow and actually has fairly poor vision due to only being intended to give them a proper field of vision and depth perception when not using their camera eye. They're also the last or one of the last few iterators in their generation, and they have some third generation level technology as a result.

Third generation iterators are usually on the shorter side, with most ranging in height from as short as Unparalleled Innocence to around as tall as No Significant Harassment. They're typically very slender, being quite sleek and streamlined in build, with a few sporadic models with a slightly bulkier build mixed in. Their colors vary heavily varied in range, with everything from muted monochromes to bright vibrant hues and anything in between. In a more canon leaning timeline this would be a very short generation, not even 100 kilocycles before ending in mass ascension, but mass ascension didn't happen here so it could theoretically last at least a good bit longer than that.

Third generation iterators have no real notable positions in the chain of command; they're simply made to iterate and get their tasks done while doing so. Unintentional built in flaws or outright oversights and careless design traits aren't uncommon in this generation, having started to pop up at the tail end of the second generation and becoming more common at this point.

Third generation examples include:

Five Pebbles (we know more or less how he's gonna look too); he has a pink puppet with yellow/gold markings, a longer face shape, and long, mostly straight gray antennae antennae. He has a thin, almost too skinny looking build. His appearance, especially head shape, is notably odd among iterators of his generation; this is this is because he was modeled after Wind, with intent to directly resemble them, and as a result he heavily looks like a smaller, more streamlined version of them with different colors, down to having the same forehead markings. This is also why he's the tallest in his generation.

Unparalleled Innocence; they have a white puppet with light teal markings, a rounded face shape, and two small to medium sized, gray inwards pointing triangular antennae on each antennae base. They have a sleek/slender build that's typical for their generation.

[albertayebisackey]

“Centaur, a creature of legend, bridging the realms of instinct and intellect.”

[moon-down]

Real quick some iterators (and two scugs)

In order:

Sliver of Straw Five Pebbles Looks to the Moon (Ough I could of done her better) No Significant Harassment Seven Red Suns

(Page 2)

Wandering Omen Secluded Instinct Gazing Stars Epoch of Clouds (Took reference off of concept art)

(Page 3)

Pleading Intellect Unparalleled Innocence Grey/Chasing Wind

Flickering of A Bug (Sona) Looks to the Moon (she's slaying now!!!)

Below is an unknown scug and Rivulet (I needed to fill the space)

This took me way too long

[rchetypal]

"Church people say that you are lost if you don't believe in God—you are on your way to hell—and to a certain extent that is perfectly true, because the moment the spiritual essence is denied, it simply comes up from below but in the form of a disturbance, as if the stomach were disturbed, for instance, or as if a bad instinct were stirred up. Intellect is a human business while the spirit is no human business; it is a principle which we do not make. It makes us, it seizes us. And spirit is by no means an enemy of life; it is a dynamic condition, like anything." — C.G. Jung

[deusproxy]

Sneezes.

Well, that certainly shook her awake. She's still drowsy, though. Never was a morning person, unless she had stayed up the whole night.

"Morning, Aesen..."

[rabbit-ina-trenchcoat]

ppl got so pissed off when shazam 2 came out and billy was acting his age even as shazam like bro idk if ur aware but 18 year olds are not any smarter than 17 year olds and its weird to assume they are

[follerys-trash-blog]

decided to try my hand at designing the other iterators we hear about in the broadcasts/pearls that we never see

and then i made an iterator oc loll

[prince-liest]

I finally went "fuck it" and bought Baldur's Gate 3, and then promptly spent nearly two hours in the character creator. Please imagine my face when I made my perfect MC and hit complete, and then they gave me a second character to design.

Anyway, I am super happy with how my Tav turned out (though they are not named that in my game). I painstakingly cycled through every single hair option, and enjoyed the opportunity to give them a cool tattoo that spirals out from their eye and make that eye full-black, since that's where the mindflayer parasite crawled in. I genuinely really wish the game gave you a library of cutscenes you've seen, because I really want to just watch their face Do The Thing over and over again, lmao. So far, 80% of their expressions have been variations on "concerned and distressed" and it's hilarious.

Also, shoutout to the fact that the game is detailed enough put blood splatters on my character's face after making a melee kill!

Pictured: Tav, realizing they've just opened the door to a Jehovah's Witness brain ooze monster and it's gooey.

[yupmabel]

my designs for the new unseen downpour iterators :D

their names are so cool

[fooltofancy]

ilya's parents were mercenaries, all right, and by the time anyone who might have cared realized that this slightly feral child couldn't read he was already well into learning how to stab, much to the detriment of any other attempts at education.

[magic-astro-fae]

House Significations

1st House: Head/ face/ physical body, eyes and smile. Our identity. Others perception of us. Our birth. Birth marks/ moles and scars. Character. Perspective/ outlook. Beginnings. Ego

2nd House: Throat/ neck/ voice. Resources and personal values. Physical possessions. Self-esteem. Money/ income. Security. Cultivation. Substance

3rd House: Arms/ shoulders and hands. Communication style. Primary school. Reading/ writing. Intellect. Siblings and cousins. Immediate communities. Transportation

4th House: Chest/ breasts/ stomach. Family/ ancestors. Roots/ traditions. Private life. Home. Domesticity. Mother/ care taker. Foundations. Heritage. Comfort/ relaxation

5th House: Heart/ Spine/ Solar Plexus. Pleasure. Creativity. Romance. Children/ first born child. Self-expression. Humor. Leisure/ entertainment

6th House: Digestive system/ intestines: Healthcare/ wellness. Daily routines. Known enemies. Employment/ skills. Coworkers. Consistency. Strength/ courage

7th House: Urinary tract/ kidneys/ bladder. 1-on-1 relationships. Business partners. Marriage partners. Contracts/ commitments. Compromise. People/ things we attract and are attracted to

8th House: Reproductive system/ genitals/ anus. Secrets/ lies. Death. Judgement. Transformation. Debts/ taxes. Shared resources. Conscious fears. Instincts/ intuition. Occultism

9th House: Hips/ thighs/ liver. Ideology/ philosophy. Long distance travels. Expansion/ exploration. Knowledge. Spirituality. Foreign affairs. Belief systems. Culture

10th House: Bones/ skeleton/ teeth/ skin. Reputation. Public image. Occupation. Focus/ ambition/ motivation. Professional self. Government. Authority. Father figure

11th House: Circulatory system/ veins/ calves/ ankles. Group efforts/ charity. Friendship. Gifts/ help from others. Innovation. Technology. Social work. Wistfulness. Acquaintances

12th House: Feet/ lymph nodes. Institutions. Unconsciousness. Nightmares/ dreams. Psychic abilities. Karma. Self-undoing. Fears. Privacy/ refuge. Peace. Forgiveness

[marsprincess889]

Basic themes of nakshatras

May edit this later, this is as far as I understand and have observed them, and I think it's pretty nice to see them simply.

Ashwini:

Newness, freshness, the unmanifest, speed, energy, vitality, instinct, healing, fast healing, unlimited energy, self-expression, selfishness, blocking outside noise, trusting yourself, self-empowerment, unfiltered actions.

Things that remind me of Ashwini: bees, the sun, horses, two white horses, golden deserts, horses gallopping, honey, long hair flying in the wind, apples.

Bharani:

Love, death, sex, the female, the feminine, limitations, the material, fate, destiny, coming into the body, struggling against limitations, struggling against fate, mind trapped in its own hell because of the inevitable, dealing with the harshness of life, harshness of mothers and mother nature, the hierarchy, privileges and deprivations, desire, going after your true desire, the immortality of the soul, adapting to changes, passion, tragic love, bravery, facing the truth, choicelessness, nessecity, revenge, violence, gatekeeping, reduction, denial of access, conquering your fate, everlasting beauty, immortality, eternal love.

Things that remind me of Bharani: hot pink and black, darkness, roses, the yoni, gateways, keyholes, caverns, boats, rivers, the damsel in distress, fantasy, high fantasy.

Krittika:

Adam, the main character, naming things, language, rationality, precision, sharpness, criticism, the poet, the "it" person, simplicity, cleanliness, expressing oneself, selectivity, the heat, the knowledge, the light, masculine ideals, stoicism.

Things that remind me of Krittika: knives, razors, lighers, sparks, fire, hearth, cooking.

Rohini:

Eve, sugar babies, growth, receptivity, enjoyment, pleasure, unrefined, doted on, subconcious, absorbtion, sharing, union, creation, the youngest daughter, naivete, feeling no shame.

Things that remind me of Rohini: sugar, stickiness, sweetness, heaviness, red, pink, flowers, the A.I(lol).

Mrigashira:

Distraction, realization, fickleness, adventure, running away, chasing, the hunt, excitement, softness, pleasure, altering conciousness, magic substances(iykwim), curiosity, fulfillment, insatiability, teasing.

Things that remind me of Mrigashira: silver threads, deer, green forests, green and blue, running in the woods, alcohol, the moon, Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream".

Ardra:

Disillusion, crying, lamenting, awareness of others, awarness of other's expectations, hyper-awarness of everything, intellect, the rational mind, pressures from society, rebelling against society, anxiety, hunting.

Things that remind me of Ardra: tears, water, storms, technology, teenage angst, emo culture, the rain, sad songs, dogs.

Punarvasu:

Mercy, forgiveness, permission, freedom, flying, expansion, gentleness, regrowing, realigning, returning, home, unconditional love and nurture, celebration, peace, peacefulness, centering oneself, sunlight, warmth, fostering, taking care, being taken care of, luck, unlimited fertile space, shelter, genuine kindness, believing in humanity again, cycles, patterns, seeing the cycles and the patterns, prophecies, the oracle, openness, second (and third, fouth...) chances, a comeback.

Things that remind me of Punarvasu: staying at home, pets, plants, cats, gentle rain, a bow and arrows, a target.

Pushya:

Asceticism, routines, self-restraint, servitude, control, self-control, working, working on yourself, patience, simplicity, striving for perfection, nurturing, nourishment, quiet ambition, symmetry.

Things that remind me of Pushya: milk, milkmaids, country life, milking, symmetry, goats, sheep, agriculture.

Ashlesha:

Manipulation, abuse, poison, emotional abuse, blackmail, resorting to everything for safety, protection, pent up energy, the nervous system, purity, water, sensitivity, cleanliness, energetic build-up, tension, restraint, preservation, self-preservation, virginity, feminine tactics, being "mean" for protection, lying for safety, sensuality, mother issues, agitation.

Things that remind me of Ashlesha: the color white, transparent things, cats, poisoning, snow white, Sofia Coppola films, teenage girlhood, ties, strings, knots, snakes.

Magha:

Royalty, power, ancestry, family trees, history, the past, regality, honoring the past, honoring the elders, honoring the authority, religion, tradition, customs, confidence, ego.

Things that remind me of Magha: crowns, thrones, churches, goth culture, smoke, big hair(like the lion's mane).

Purva Phalguni:

Pleasure, enjoyment, being spoiled as the feminine, loving to spoil as the masculine, procreation, sex, leisure, art, holidays, parties, exclusivity, pride, charisma, sexual dispersion, love as a method of self-expression, admiration, directness, active pursuit of your passions, indulgence.

Things that remind me of Purva Phalguni: fruits, eating fruits topless, rose gold color, the "rizz"(lol), the phallus, dramaticism.

Uttara Phalguni:

Favors from friends, family and partners, contracts, beneficial agreements, the perfect wife, likeability, popularity, friendliness, appearing cool, stoicism, beneficial arrangements, gain through partnerships, self-expression through relationships, wife/girlrfiend material, harvest, family associations, marriage associations.

Things that remind me of Uttara Phalguni: the "chads", simplicity, genuine friends, loyal companions, family business, the perfect male stereotype, the "rich heiress running away" trope, wheat, gold, power couples.

Hasta:

The earth, the veiled feminine, manipulation, denial of access, materialism, cheating, everyday matters, empowerment of women, deception, skill, seeking knowledge, wanting to be in control, activism, street-smarts, manipulation of masses.

Things that remind me of Hasta: the hand, Goddess Persephone, skilled hands, thieves, easy money, fairies, witches, scammers.

Chitra:

Crafting, building, perspective, truth, law, gems, sacrifice for your craft, vanity, stereotypes, aesthetics, the truth in stereotypes, building based on the law and the truth, the surface of things, the appearance of things, the substance reflected in the vessel, gossip, cliques.

Things that remind me of Chitra: the god Hephestos, martian gods in general, jewelry, fashion, make-up, drama, pettiness, the coquette aesthetic, pranksters, Olivia Rodrigo(ig).

Swati:

Space, the cosmos, shifting realities, love, rebellion, alternate realities, possibilities, seeing beauty in everything, inspiration, art, the cosmic egg, creation of the world, creation of worlds, microcosm and macrocosm, freedom through love.

Things that remind me of Swati: video games, the wind, plants beggining to sprout, the sword, technology, the Sims.

Vishakha:

The lightning, snapping, splitting, joining opposites, compromise, marriage, repressed anger, repressed aggression, alter egos, passion, enthusiasm, standing up for yourself and others, repression and then expression, energy, love and hate.

Things that remind me of Vishakha: lighning bolts, Zeus, Thor and other lighning gods, superhero "Shazam", celebrations.

Anuradha:

Friendship, devotion, depth, loyalty, unconditional loyalty, bonds, the occult, sex with love, numbers, gatherings, friend groups, groups, gentleness, humbleness, discipline, seriousness, organizing society, social groups.

Things that remind me of Anuradha: the color burgundy, dim lights, bunnies, "Sex Education" (tv show), sci-fi (for some reason), "The Vampire Diaries" (and very similar teen shows), frat boys, cheerleaders.

Jyeshta:

The battlefield, war, hunger, thirst, insatiability, conquering, the underdog, street-smarts, competition, strategy, extreme independence, mind games, the art of war, survival, ruling, rising above, self-reliance, wisdom, becoming the authority, the eldest, dryness, trust issues, enemies, destroying enemies, outsmarting all enemies.

Things that remind me of Jyeshta: grandmothers, owls, eagles, dry places, flags, marching, chess.

Mula:

Horror, the abnormal, the truth, the core, the center, the absorbing darkness, the black hole, the roots, violence against falsehoods, seeking the truth, seeking the cause, seeking roots, uprooting, chaos, from chaos to order, the unchanging truth, taming beasts, holding to your truth.

Things that remind me of Mula: "Phanton of the Opera", "Twilight", final girls, horror movies, dark murky green, the wilderness.

Purva Ashadha:

Art, beauty, alliances, artistry, ideals, fighting for the ideal, discrimination, exclusivity, philosophies about beauty and art, passion for love and art, attachments, secrecy, luxury, vitality, vigor, going for victory.

Things that remind me of Purva Ashadha: the sea, seafoam, goddess Aphrodite, seashells, mermaids, sirens, fans (the ones you hold in your hand lol), Arwen from LotR.

Uttara Ashadha:

Victory, loneliness, individuality, government, empowerment, independence, being looked up to, composed self-expression, ease, simplicity but regality, confidence, self-assuredness, melancholy and hardships of aloneness but contentment, stoicism, invincibility, unapologetic behavior.

Things that remind me of Uttara Ashadha: earnest people, goddess Nike, mint color for some reason.

Shravana:

Connecting everything, secret knowledge, interest in everything, reading between the lines, subconcious access, extreme sensitivity, holding the humanity together, secret agencies, percieving what others can't percieve, saving humanity, navigating, receptivity, mysticism.

Things that remind me of Shravana: Superman, Geralt of Rivia, Aragorn, King arthur, pathways, footprints, ear, color blue, spies, astrology, outcasts, fringe societies.

Dhanishta:

Celebration, celebrities, fame, visibility, aggression, agitation, action, bringing people together, idols, propaganda, wealth from fame, that which attracts attention, public image, benefits and downsides of fame, openness and flashiness, branding.

Things that remind me of Dhanishta: supermodels, Princess Diana, dancing, rhythmic drums.

Shatabhisha:

Complexities, seeing everything, lurking in shadows, holding the knowledge, secrets, secrecy, hiding, technology, innovation, being ahead of your time, advising but manipulating, society, the collective, trends, the conciousness of masses, propaganda.

Things that remind me of Shatabhisha: midnight sky, stars, the seas, water reservoirs, the circle, the all-seeing eye of Sauron(lol), Lord of the Rings, rings, the movie "Stardust" (the book too), the evil advisor/black cardinal trope.

Purva Bhadrapada:

Notoriety, expansion, uncontrolled expansion, persmissiveness, growth to ruin unless restrained, fighting for your soul, the scapegoat, going against society, getting tested, the point of no return.

Things that remind me of Purva Bhadrapada: gangs, famous criminals, laziness, femme fatales, the grotesque, deserts, werewolves, the black sheep.

Uttara Bhadrapada:

Finding grace, hardships, working, inner strength, steeliness, resilience, patience, restraint, contol, self-restraint and self-control, bravery, honesty, stubbornness, fighting for your truth, perfect control, freedom through limitations, seeking a permanent foundation built on truth, working for the foundation, long-term goals, innocence, purity of soul, stillness, refinement, honor and glory.

Things that remind me of Uttara Bhadrapada: butterflies, clouds, baby blue color, Cinderella, warriors, knights, knight orders, ice, coldness, queens, ice-queen, dragons, water dragons, deep waters, deep sea and its creatures, wings.

Revati:

Ultimate freedom, creativity, wisdom, gentleness, compassion, guiding, herding, fun, laughter, mischief, lightnness, ease, finding peace, reaching the end, enjoying what you have, contentment, nurturing, open-mindedness, conclusions, gratefulness, freedom and free will, having choices, diversity, finding the truth, true wealth, parenthood, the guide, guidance, individuation.

Things that remind me of Revati: shepherds, herding, everything easy and light, the tricksters, the fool, jokes, Loki, The Joker, fish, comedy, the movie "A Fish Called Wanda", caring for everyone and everything, light and soft shades of green and blue.

[struggling-with-drivers]

Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen

⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.

⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort

⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 

Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.

"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."

Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.

Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 

“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 

Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.

However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.

Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."

As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.

"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.

With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.

She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.

Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 

Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.

Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.

Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.

“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.

Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.

Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.

Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.

"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.

"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."

You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.

Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.

Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."

Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"

The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."

The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.

"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"

You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.

“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 

Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 

Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.

It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 

“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”

You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.

As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.

"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."

Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.

"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."

“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.

Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.

"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."

Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.

Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"

“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.

Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."

Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.

Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.

As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.

When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."

Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."

The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 

The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.

Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 

When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 

Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.

Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."

Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."

Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.

"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.

Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."

You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.

You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.

Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."

“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”

“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 

As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.

Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.

"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."

His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.

You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"

A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 

The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.

As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one

[arellas]

what frustrates me a lot about people boiling down dick and damian’s relationship to dick being damian’s parent is that i think the reason damian is so close to dick and trusts him as much as he does is BECAUSE dick isn’t his parent. to damian, the concept of parents and being parented are inextricably intertwined with expectations, from both bruce and talia. both from talia giving him up for adoption as well as bruce’s initial rejection of him when he first came to gotham, as well as ras’s role as the predominant parental figure in his life during his time in the league of shadows.

we see his instinctive disdain for being “babied” as well as the repeated theme of him feeling like he has to earn bruce’s respect and be worthy of being the heir of both sides of his family. dick, in contrast, is an older guiding figure in his life, but his care for damian manifests in a very different way - we see him respecting damian’s skills and intellect, and he doesn’t condescend to him or feel the need to parent him. (to clarify, i don’t think bruce and talia necessarily place these expectations on him knowingly, but their exalted status results in damian feeling the weight of their legacies and what it means to live upto them.)

in contrast, dick and damian’s bond is separated from the conventions of parenthood, which is why damian is more open with him, because he doesn’t feel the need to impress dick or convince him of his worth.

(note: when i speak of talia’s legacy, i mean in the sense of classic!talia who is an antihero allied with batman, not her post-morrison version.)