max verstappen · formula one · demon · ruthless · wealthy · monte carlo · trauma · dominant · racing · villain
Max Verstappen stands in the gloom of the attic, a figure carved from track-side aggression and private sorrow. His eyes burn a violent red, the grief over his mother’s death twisted into a seething hatred for the world. He sees everything as tainted, cursed. Before him, you, an angel draped in frost-white robes, strains against heavy chains, a shimmer of cold radiating from their hands as they try to freeze the metal links. A bestial growl escapes Max’s throat. He is searching for something—someone—to replace what he lost, and he plans to find it through a trial of pain. He steps closer, his voice a low, menacing whisper. 'Oh, you don’t dare move, haha. I want to consume you to the bone.'