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stardustizuku · 2 months

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Unfortunately I came across a very strange and misinformed video about Black Butler.

It’s not good. Don’t watch it. Unless you wanna ruin your day, in which case have fun.

Despite it all, I watched it. What left me wondering, however, was how off the mark the person who made the video was on, well, everything.

From their insistence that the Book of Circus Arc theme or point is non existent, to reading Ciel’s character so badly they genuinely thought the Green Witch Arc did nothing for his character development.

While baffled, it also made me think on how someone could read Black Butler so badly.

Sure, you can say that there’s no real way to read or interpret something “in the wrong way” but interpreting The Hunger Games as a pure battle-royale action story would make you believe it’s bad.

“Why are we focusing so much on how the capitol preps them?” Or “Why isn’t Katniss winning everything?” Or “I wanna know more about the rebellion” All questions that miss the actual point of the story - which is criticizing (not solving or ignoring) the way that media distracts us from violence via spectacle.

The same thing applies here. While there is no “right” way to consume media, there’s things that the author makes clear they wanna focus when creating a story. Things that, if you understand, make the story you’re reading actually make sense.

And in Black Butler there’s three things that you have to understand to properly get what Yana is saying.

Sebastian is the protagonist

Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship IS the story.

And that relationship is, fundamentally, a positive one.

A quicker version of it would be:

Black Butler is a love story from the POV of Sebastian, and you have to ship it to get it

- but that’s not entirely true.

You can still look at it as a complex but ultimately positive rship and get in broad strokes of what it’s conveying. It doesn’t have to be romantic. Although, it helps much more than a platonic framing.

(That said, interpreting their rship as father and son, still isn’t the best way to go about it. Mostly because by its very nature of “soul consuming” their relationship is extremely sexually charged. And hey, if you’re into that I don’t judge. However, if you’re desperately trying to interpret their rship as NOT romantic to the point you fall back on heteronormative patriarchal ideals of nuclear familiar as framing device, I don’t think this interpretation bodes with you)

Now, having all that ground work:

Why do I say these are the key components to understand BB?

Okay so, first,

1. Sebastian is the Main Character. The protagonist.

There’s a lot of people who wanna argue against it, claiming he’s either the villain or the antagonist. Both wrong.

He does not function as an antagonist. Even if, and an emphasis on if, you consider Ciel to the protagonist, Sebastian isn’t a narrative antagonist.

If you wanna go back to Creative Writing 101, be my guest. An antagonist is directly defined by the protagonist. It’s the opposing force. If the protagonist wants A, the antagonist wants to stop them from getting A.

Sebastian’s catchphrase is “Yes, my Lord”. He never opposes Ciel, in fact quite the contrary. By the mere fact they’ve created contract, it means that they’ve both agreed in the inevitable outcome.

People want to frame Sebastian as the villain, because Ciel having his soul taken by a demon, would be a BAD END in the context of their moral compass. They see Ciel as a frail victim of abuse, who’s being tricked by Sebastian, who wants Ciel’s soul.

Which is an. Interpretation. A bad one. But still one.

The narrative (and whether the narrative fits your personal moral compass and lack of critical thinking is irrelevant) treats Ciel as an agent in his own destiny. The abuse he suffered was the moment in which he had no control. It’s only after he meets Sebastian that he can rid of both his guilt and his despair, and do what he wants.

In this case though, it’s revenge.

The famous “Asthma” scene shows this. If Ciel is taken back to his past, he becomes helpless. Swarmed with pain and memories that make it so that he can’t even react. Sebastian is his saving grace. If Ciel didn’t have him, and the power he wields to rebuilt what’s broken, he would crumble once more.

If Ciel has a panic attack, because of all the pain he has, Sebastian picks him up and says “you are not a helpless child anymore, you are not a victim anymore, you have the power to do anything. So, what do you wanna do?”

Ciel’s answer is to kill them.

A proper analogy would be to say that, if Sebastian offers a gun, Ciel pulls the trigger. They are both at fault. Sebastian, strictly speaking, is not here to directly cause Ciel’s downfall, but as a tool Ciel uses to plunge into the abyss.

If, again if, you were to frame Ciel as a protagonist, Sebastian falls closer to the “Voice of reason” character. Not a literal voice of reason, but a literary one. If you have a protagonist and an antagonist exchanging ideals, the Voice of Reason serves to engage with the protagonist on their own ideals.

That said, Ciel isn’t the protagonist. The story quickly falls apart if you interpret it as such.

Things such as Ciel’s character arc being…shall I say odd?

It’s not that his character arc isn’t there, but it’s never lineal. His goals stay the same, the only thing that happens is that we start to peel back the “why”s of his goals. Throughout the series it’s never about Ciel understanding himself better, he knows who he is, he knows what he wants, he knows why he wants it. He doesn’t ever need to uncover these, but simply remember them. Because it’s always about the audience understanding Ciel.

He knows he wants revenge.

In the Circus Arc: He knows that he needs Sebastian because without him, the pain of the abuse he suffered would be too much to bear. But WE are introduced to it.

In the Book of Atlantis: He knows that with this new lease he does not want happiness and peace, he wants revenge. The one being told this is the audience.

In Green Witch Arc: He knows that their revenge isn’t for his family, the real Ciel or guilt. It’s because he wants it. He’s angry, he’s upset, and this is entirely for him. The one being told this is the audience.

Except. Not really. The one either discovering or remembering these key moments - is always Sebastian.

Sebastian is the one who reassures him that he now holds the power of a demon to override the pain. Sebastian is the one who remembers that to override that pain, Ciel wants revenge. And Sebastian is the one who discovers that that revenge isn’t built out of grief or guilt, but for himself.

We are witnessing it all, through the eyes of Sebastian.

This is why we have an extremely vague idea of who Ciel is, Sebastian does not have the whole picture.

If you haven’t been reading this manga with your eyes closed, you’ll realize we have a better grasp at Sebastian’s character than that of Ciel. We get a lot of insight on how he thinks and what he values through light hearted dialogue he has with the servants. You even see the character development in these little interactions.

Think about how when he first arrived to the mansion he magically created food with no regards to taste, but when he meets Bard he states that food is created to see whoever will eat it, smile.

That is character development, more than you will be able to see from Ciel.

Because Ciel’s character, while not static, doesn’t go from point A to point B. Mostly, cause it doesn’t need to. He went through that when he lost the real Ciel and got Sebastian. Everything we are watching is the falling out.

Now, given the fact that I’ve told you that it makes more sense for Sebastian to be the protagonist/main character, and that he 100% isn’t either a villain or antagonist in ANY of the interpretations you can get:

Do you believe me?

If you don’t, you’ll probably believe Yana herself.

This is from the first Volume, where Yana herself describes the process of making Black Butler. The primary idea behind the creation of BB was a butler as a “hero”.

If you go back to the introductory chapter, you notice that Ciel is barely mentioned. He’s simply the one to give Sebastian impossible tasks and standards that Sebastian must find how to overcome.

Ciel is properly introduced until the NEXT chapter. The second chapter has this formula too, introducing Lizzie as a problem to overcome. Although, to Sebastian the best way to “get rid of the problem” is simply to indulge her.

The issue here being that the problem isn’t as simple as a business meeting but something directly tied to Ciel and Ciel’s past. Each time that Sebastian has to solve a problem, it chips away at Ciel. While with Lizzie he shows a persona, once he’s alone with Sebastian he acknowledges the toll it took on him. It serves to build Ciel as Sebastian’s master, and how some problems aren’t as simple as discarding a tablecloth.

The third and the fourth, are a unified narrative, with a similar premise to the first chapter. Ciel gets kidnapped and Sebastian must find a way to retrieve him without raising suspicions.

If the first chapter is to set up what Sebastian must do as a butler, the third and the fourth serve to set up what he must do as a demon.

The entirety of the volume, and up to Book of Circus Arc, is about how Sebastian tries to follow the increasingly absurd orders that Ciel has - it is not about Ciel trying to solve them.

That’s how they work, we follow Sebastian for the most part, because he’s the one having to come up with the solutions.

If anything, in early Kuro, where the emphasis was more on a slice of life conflict, Ciel is the antagonist. He’s the one creating problems for Sebastian to solve.

What’s more, in the second volume, the very first chapter is one from Sebastian’s POV. So far, we hadn’t gotten an entire chapter from Ciel’s POV. In fact, I would find it hard to point to a single chapter where Ciel is the POV throughout. The reveal of real Ciel and the flashback is the closest contender.

But once we move past early Kuro, and into Book of Circus, this set up changes.

It’s fairly easy to assume that Ciel is the main character, because from this point on the conflict of the plot sorta surrounded him. We spend a lot of time with him and with his story. The enemies start being people directly tied to Ciel and Ciel’s trauma. Rarely, if at all, we get to see Sebastian before he met Ciel.The framing device for the story, is Ciel.

This is where point 2 gets intertwined.

2.- Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship IS the story.

The story begins at the point where Sebastian and Ciel met. Who Ciel was before he met Sebastian, informs why he’s the way he is when he does. You have to know all he went through to understand why he’s a brat, why he lashes out. However Sebastian’s past doesn’t matter…because Sebastian himself doesn’t care much for who he was, before he was “Sebastian”. That’s also part of the narrative.

Unlike Ciel, he doesn’t seem opposed to revealing information from before the contract. He talks about how pets from where he is from are gross, he talks about how he knows how to dance because of other places he’s been to, and alludes to the life he's lived before.

Just that, to him, they're footnotes.

He makes allusions to a very bland, uninteresting life, up to the point he meets Ciel.

That’s why we don’t know more about his past.

As for why we focus on Ciel’s story…okay maybe we need Creative Writing lessons 102

I studied Dramaturgy for about 3 to 4 years. And something you notice is how play-writing is the quintessential story telling. It’s making it work with the bare bones of a story.

Some other mediums have more finesse, more depth, or more spectacle - all amazing things that work for whatever they’re created for. But understanding a play, how and why it works, helps understand the fundamentals of any derivative story telling medium.

Particularly, conflict.

Conflict is dialogue and dialogue can take many forms. A story, in its essence, is a dialogue between two opposing ideas.

Take Batman, for example, who embodies the ideas of justice and order. On his own, he’s not a well rounded character.

If you ONLY present him, in a vaccum with nothing else, you don’t have a character. You have a list of characteristics that you’re supposed to know.

You only know who he is when you have dialogue with another character.

I say Dialogue, but it doesn’t necessarily mean spoken language at one another. Dialogue can mean fist fighting, playing tabletop games, talking to other people about the other, or even just a competition. The idea is to simply to compare and contrast both ideas.

If you want an example on how tabletop games serve as dialogue, watch the video “Well, Someone Had to Explain the Liar’s Dice Scene” by Lord Ravecraft

Another example, were we to retake Batman, you have him fight Joker. Who’s the embodiment of chaos and randomness.

In the following picture, you get far more information than the one previously shown. While the Joke fights with daggers and fake guns, Batman only uses his fists. He doesn’t use the tricks that Joker does. His serious demeanor, contrasted with Joker’s glee at the dangerous situation. The fact that Batman has a deathly grip on Joker’s shirt, while the Joker doesn’t, which shows a desperation to catch him.

You are being shown, through a dialogue, who Batman is.

It’s so much easier and much more effective to explore a character through another character.

This is the reason why Shonen has a tendency to make incredibly good gay ships. If you want to explore Naruto’s personality, and his feelings of inferiority, you HAVE to have him interact with Sasuke.

If you wanna understand Hinata’s passion for volleyball, you have him enjoy himself the most with the only other crazy motherfucker who’s as obsessed with volleyball - Kageyama.

And I think that originally, Yana had this problem.

Sebastian was the protagonist, but she had little room to develop him as a character in the confines of the manor, dealing with random enemies.

She likely tried to create Grell as someone of the same stature as Sebastian. Someone who could be this other person to engage dialogue with and show or allude to his past a bit more.

The problem being that Sebastian didn’t care for his past. Or really, engaging with anyone. He sees everyone as below him, but when confronted with Grell who isn’t below him, he doesn’t wanna talk to her.

So you’re stuck in conundrum.

How do you have dialogue with a character, that as a character trait, doesn’t really wanna have dialogue?

Well, Grell also solves the problem. Because only the moment she gets him to start any semblance of a dialogue - is questioning why he’s serving Ciel.

And this is the moment when it’s perfectly cemented that the focus of the story is their relationship.

Why is Sebastian here? Why does he stay? What did he see in Ciel that made him want this extremely convoluted contract?

THATS the dialogue.

THATS the conversation we’re having in Black Butler.

We need to know Ciel because understanding who he is, let’s us know WHY /Sebastian/ is here.

Then slowly, with the introduction with the Undertaker, we find out Sebastian’s conflict.

Which is…

He’s scared of losing Ciel. It becomes apparent with the constant imagery of the Undertaker taking away Ciel and at some point even obtaining r!Ciel’s body, that he’s worried it might happen.

But he can only be worried that Ciel might be taken away if he wants to stay near Ciel.

And that’s his character arc.

Realizing that he actually likes Ciel, cares for him and the role he plays a butler that he doesn’t want this to end.

In the first chapters, he doesn’t feel a need to protect Ciel anymore than what’s strictly necessary. Just don’t die, that’s about as deep as his involvement in chapter 4 gets.

But by the Green Witch Arc, he feels a need to protect Ciel from ANY harm.

This is why I also said

3.- Their relationship is fundamentally a positive one.

In broad strokes, Sebastian to Ciel is the person who allows him to survive. He’s not worried about giving up his soul since he’s already dead. While Ciel to Sebastian, is someone who’s making him have fun. He’s slowly becoming more and more attached to Ciel and the life he has with Ciel.

Their relationship is not that of just a predator and prey, but also of master and pet.

In the terms that Black Butler itself would call: Sebastian is a wild wolf acting like a collared dog.

Ciel is aware that the wild beast will eat him at the end of the day, but if he clings hard to leash for now, he might just be able to have Sebastian maul his abusers.

Sebastian as a dog, currently finds that he enjoys being a chained dog.

(This is demonstrated in the Green Witch arc where he quite literally says, he doesn’t wanna be a wild beast and prefers to be a butler)

And much like the actual DOG Sebastian, Ciel constantly interprets his attempts to get close and protect him, as an act of aggression.

This push and pull of Ciel’s perception of Sebastian and Sebastian’s true motives is what feeds the story.

And the briefs interludes were that isn’t the case (what other people call the “plot”, but I would refer to as the connective tissue) such as Sullivan and Wolfram, the other servant’s past, the grim reapers and the like, serve as a parallel to Ciel and Sebastian relationship. Either to signify how they care for each other, highlight their weaknesses or fears, or explore how they feel.

It’s no surprise that Sullivan and Wolfram are parallels to Ciel and Sebastian. A sheltered sickly child who seeks the protection of a cold hearted machine that only knew how to kill, but who eventually found he cared for her genuinely.

Undertaker and Claudia’s relationship being heavily paralleled with them, even though we aren’t 109% sure what they had but heavily implied it was a romantic attraction from the undead supernatural creature and a Phantomhive.

Everything is a parallel.

That’s why, like the approach of the terrible original video, is flawed.

Trying to interpret Black Butler as action scene after action scene, with mystery after mystery with the only connective tissue being the mystery of who burned down the mansion - is missing the trees for the forest.

That’s not the point.

And if you’re too much of a prude to engage with gothic horror in its gothic horror game, I see little point as to why you even bother to engage with it at all.

A lot of people, including the person who create the video, simply refuse to acknowledge Black Butler IS the story of Sebastian and Ciel as a close and positive relationship, romantically and sexually charged. The reason for it being that they’re “put off” by it.

Part of me wonders how much that is genuinely true, and how much is just performative outrage. It’s like ignoring the fact that Cersei and Jami are in an incestous relationship and try to frame it as “platonic love”, because the idea of it is THAT off putting.

But regardless of that, if you don’t like the fact that it’s as canon as canon can get, I would reccomend you don’t engage with the story at all.

As I’ve explained, the entirety of the series is about them. If you refuse to see Sebastian and Ciel as, at the very least, a duo that cares deeply for the other - you aren’t reading Black Butler.

I have no idea what you’re reading.Perhaps your own biases and subconscious stigma with British aesthetic. At that point, watch the fucking British Royalty Gossip Magazine. You’d find more substance there.

Just don’t be like the person in the video, please? Don’t play dumb. Don’t ignore the fact that Yana is a Shotacon, don’t ignore the fact Sebastian is a hero, don’t ignore the fact that the entirety of the story is based on Sebastian and Ciel’s dynamic.

Because if you do, you are ashamed. You are ashamed of what this story is about. You don’t wanna engage with the text, you want to engage with yourself. You wanna project into Ciel whatever traumas and experiences you have, for the sake a vanity project, where you come out as the morally superior.

You don’t wanna talk about Black Butler, you wanna talk about how good YOU are. How you “don’t sin” by watching it “without all the gross unholy stuff”.

Which is the exact opposite of what BB is about.

So, if you don’t want to, save us all the humiliation fetish and leave.

#Kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebaciel #essay #loli speaks

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lovewithmary · 7 months

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THE ENGINEER | MCU X FORMULA ONE CROSSOVER

summary: hell hath no fury than a woman scorned. or, where viviana is pissed.

fc: gabbi garcia

author’s note: I lowkey want to write viviana doing interviews solo and with other drivers? like a 'who knows me better' with mick, max, and viviana then mick and max compete to see who knows her better. would you guys like to see that?

btw i put the potential guys viviana might end up with as tags, so if you want to see who she might be with, go ahead.

twitter (i WILL NOT call it the other name)

"Mick!"

Mick turned around upon hearing his name being called from behind, only to see Lando and Oscar. "Have you been on Twitter today?" Lando asked, and Mick shook his head no.

Lando sighed, causing Mick to worry about what could possibly be on Twitter to make him and Oscar go to him. "It's bad, mate. People have been accusing Viviana of boosting you and Max," Oscar informed him.

Mick's eyes opened wide, not expecting that. He expected more of the dating rumors considering it's all he's been able to see on his timeline. They were admittedly funny but also concerning, considering they ranged from Viviana dating one of the guys on the grid behind his and Max's back to Viviana being in a poly relationship with all the single guys on the grid.

He had to block the person who made the latter rumor since the image was too specific for him to not think about it. Mick could barely make eye contact with anyone that day.

"Do you think Viviana has seen it?" Lando questioned, and Mick shook his head no.

"We would've known by now if Viviana had seen it, she hates whenever someone says that one of her friends used her for an advantage," Mick told them.

There was one and only one time that Viviana had been genuinely used by someone for their own benefit. She had met someone in Peter's High School (she was in college at that point, getting her 2nd degree) and she had thought that he genuinely liked her and vice versa.

But it turned out that he just wanted her to put in a good word for her dad, and she ultimately dumped him and blacklisted him from getting any Stark Industries job in the future. To her, she claimed, "If he had to use me to get a chance with the company, then he wasn't good enough to get in by pure skill."

Mick looked at both McLaren guys and hesitantly asked, "do any of the other guys believe the rumor?"

Both Oscar and Lando shook their heads, relieving Mick since he didn't want to ruin any friendships he had with the guys just because of a baseless rumor. "We all agreed it was a pretty shit rumor, to be honest," Oscar commented.

Mick quirked a smile upon hearing that, amused at the Australian. He then felt his phone buzz, which made him realize that he had to look for both Viviana and Max in order to warn them. "Sorry, guys, I need to go find Viviana and Max," he excused himself.

But before he could leave, Lando blurted out, "Are Viviana and Max dating? I know they said they weren't but they act like boyfriend and girlfriend,"

"Viviana and Max... have a different relationship. I don't really want to say a lot because it's not my story to tell, but Viviana helped Max with a lot when it came to Jos since she was the only one willing to stand up to him. And when Tony became Iron Man and then the Avengers happened, Max was a really big help to Viviana," Mick tried to explain.

"And how about you?"

"I'm the one that helps out the both of them, just like they do to me,"

Viviana was currently on a phone call with potential investors for Stark Industries, which was why Max offered his driver's room for her privacy. And in an effort to try and waste time while he had nothing to do, he was walking around the paddock.

Which was where Carlos, Pierre, Charles, Daniel, and Alex saw Max, which prompted the Redbull driver to talk to them.

"Did Viviana come today?" Carlos questioned, and immediately, Max was suspicious of the two Ferrari drivers.

"She had a call for her company, so she's currently in my driver's room," Max explained.

"I thought she wouldn't come because of the rumors about her," Charles carelessly said.

"What rumors?" Max questioned.

"Oh, you haven't heard the rumors yet..." Charles awkwardly said.

"What rumors?" was all Max repeated.

"People have been saying that Viviana is the reason why you and Mick are in the position you guys are in," Alex explained.

"What?! That's ridiculous," Max said.

"Which is what we said, but a lot of people on social media are saying otherwise," Carlos said.

"MAX!" Mick yelled out, capturing the attention of the group of drivers.

"Did you see—"

"Let me see the tweet," Max demanded and Mick wordlessly gave him his phone, which already had the tweet up.

"No way FIA would investigate something based on a rumor,"

"FIA have investigated for less,"

"Do you think?—"

"Parang hindi nila alam na kahit wala ako, magaling sila. Mga bobo." It's like they don't know that even without me, they're still good. Idiots. Viviana said, practically marching towards the growing group of drivers, evidently mad.

"Nakita mo to?" Did you see this? Viviana said.

"Vi, you're speaking in Tagalog again. And no matter how much we try to learn, we still can't understand it whenever you speak fast," Mick told her, reminding her she had to calm down.

"The tweet. Did you see the stupid tweet? I mean come on, we only revealed that we're friends this year but suddenly I'm the reason why the teams aren't performing the way that they should? It's not my fault other teams aren't that good!" Viviana ranted.

A cough from behind Viviana was heard, making the girl freeze. She swore silently to herself before turning around, only to see a couple of drivers that belonged to said teams that weren't good, according to her.

She awkwardly laughed, amusing some of the drivers who thought that this was a nice change compared to her usual composed professional self they'd always seen on the rare time she was being interviewed. "I'm sorry, but only because you heard me and not because of what I've said," Viviana honestly told them.

"Good save, Vi," Max said, enjoying the fact that his best friend was making what was originally an angering moment for her turned awkward.

"Shut up, Max. Anyways, what should I do with the rumors?" Viviana asked.

"I don't think you should say anything," Daniel spoke up, causing everyone to look at him.

He looked unsure for a second because of the sudden amount of eyes on him, but once he looked at Viviana, who was confused at what he said, he elaborated, "Whether or not you say something won't change anything. These people are convinced you did something, so you should stay quiet for now since you did nothing wrong,"

"Who are you and what have you done with Daniel Ricciardo?" Pierre jokingly said, causing the other drivers to laugh.

"Hey, I can give out good advice!" Daniel tried defending himself.

"Yeah, but they usually come with back up plans A-Z," Charles said.

"Well, it can't be any worse than my original plan," Viviana thoughtfully said.

"What was your original plan?" Alex questioned.

"Make a F1 Team and buy my way in," she nonchalantly said, shocking those around her.

"What?!"

"Well, I'm obviously not going to do that. But, I would try to prove people wrong and it'd send a message of, 'you'd know if I did something' but people would probably get angry because of who I am and my last name," she rolled her eyes.

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 ig au #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #carlos sainz x reader #mick schumacher x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader

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tiannasfanfic · 1 year

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True Sight

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: While helping Eddie clean out his van, you find something that has the potential to completely destroy your relationship.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns (if any), because anyone can wear panties. An AU where Henry Creel doesn't happen. Angst with a Twist. This story is 90-95% true, even the background of Eddie and Reader's relationship.

CW: Description of on and off relationship; mentions of abandonment issues; mentions of cheating; brief, non-graphic description of past sexual encounter (below waist penetration but not specified where, choking).

Word Count: 2,676

At some point in every long term relationship, the people in it find themselves purchasing their first vehicle together. No matter if it’s brand new right off the lot or an older model that a buddy is trying to get rid of, it’s a huge milestone for any couple.

That time had finally come for you and Eddie.

By now, duct tape and prayer were holding his van together. Your car may have been slightly newer and in better condition, it was at the point of breaking far more often than the two of you could really afford.

Regardless of why, it was an exciting time for both of you. Even getting a used vehicle, this was going to be the newest one either of you had ever owned. Not only that, but this was the first vehicle that Eddie was able to buy for himself, which was another huge milestone. Yes, the two of you were buying it together, but that was beside the point. You weren’t going to take that claim away from him since his van had been Wayne’s initially and was a roughly used hand me down.

Once a truck was found that you both fell in love with, you went ahead and traded your car in to help lower the down payment. That had been the plan with the van too until dealership took one look at it and laughed, so the two of you were on your own when it came to selling it.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find someone that was willing to give what Eddie was asking for it.

Unfortunately, this meant it had to be cleaned. And if there was one thing that had never happened to this van, it was a good deep cleaning.

Now, while Eddie had gotten better over the years when it came to tossing trash into the back, especially once he had stopped hanging out in there, he wasn’t always the best at remembering to throw things away later. There were still plenty of empty to-go cups, soda bottles, food wrappers, cans, cigarette packs, lighters and the like that had to be thrown away. It wasn’t anything gross, at least, except for a bottle of motor oil that had leaked right behind the driver’s seat.

Once all off the surface trash was out of the way, and the old blankets pulled out and examined before ultimately being thrown away, the van turned into a bit of a time capsule for the two of you. You both started finding things long thought lost, which brought on some reminiscing.

Ah, if this van could talk. She had seen a lot of things, both with and without you at Eddie’s side.

You both were in great moods as the day progressed, made even better by sharing one last joint then making out in the back for old time’s sake. But shortly after that while at the peak of your high, you found something at the bottom of the glove compartment.

When you first saw it, you weren’t really sure what it was. Once you picked it up, you could tell by the feel of it that it was some kind of flimsy fabric that had been wadded up into a ball. After carefully unwinding the fabric from the ball, you held it up with both hands to look at.It took a moment, but you eventually realized what it was that you were holding.

“Hey Eddie?” you said, slowly turning in the passenger seat towards the back of the van.

“Yeah?”

“Look what I found,” you said.

Eddie looked over to see what you were talking about.

It took him a moment as well, but when he realized what exactly it was that you were holding, all the color drained from his face.

It was a pair of mesh thong panties that had been torn open down the sides.

“Sweetheart, I promise those are from before we got back together,” Eddie said instantly, panic all over his face, his tone frantic.

From the look on Eddie’s face, you could see the life you two had built together flashing before his eyes.

The relationship you and Eddie had was a complicated one that was hard to describe.

Really, the easiest way to explain it is by saying it was very easy for the two of you to get together but very hard for you to stay together.

The two of you had been friends since high school. Back in those days, you were good friends but not best friends thanks to people you both dated during those years. This was due to the feelings you both had for each other that were obvious to everyone except for yourselves. The people you dated could see it just as easily as anyone else and didn’t like it.

Not too long after Eddie graduated, you both found yourselves single at the same time and you decided to make your feelings known. Eddie wasn’t about to pass up that opportunity, instantly reciprocated and the two of you had an amazing relationship that lasted for just a little over six months before he ended it suddenly without any explanation at the time.

Over the course of the next three years, the two of you found yourselves drawn back to each other repeatedly. In that time period, you made three more serious attempts to date, made a run at trying to just be friends again, and went through phases as each other’s regular booty call.

But no matter what kind of relationship you two tried to have, it would end shortly after it started and you’d go a long period without speaking.

Now, to be fair, it wasn’t always Eddie who ended things. You ended it your fair share of times, too. If something wasn’t working or making you happy, you had no problem with removing yourself from a situation and moving on, even when it came to him.

But, no matter who ended it, every time the two of you parted ways, it was always over something that didn’t really matter in the long run. It was never anything big, nothing serious, nothing that should permanently kill a relationship. And while you two were madly in love with each other, you were always at different places in life. It was the never right time.

Eventually, you found yourself in a relationship for nearly four years and lost all contact with Eddie for the duration of it. But one particularly rough night near the end of it, you found yourself having a pretty drastic realization. The only time you had ever been happy with someone, really truly happy and not just lying to yourself, was with Eddie.

Unbeknownst to you at the time, Eddie had the exact same realization roughly in the same time period after getting ditched by his date at a party where he knew no one and had no ride home since he rode with his date. He ended up having to call Steve to come rescue him.

A few weeks later, while you were working up the courage to reach out to Eddie, he made contact with you first.

That was a little over three years ago. You two had been together ever since.

But just because you two hadn’t broken up yet didn’t mean things had been easy. The biggest drawback to finally getting with someone you’ve been on and off with for years is the abandonment issues you both have left over from all those breakups before. After three years, and a lot of communication, you two had made a lot of progress, though it was still something you two were actively working on, tackling things together whenever they came up.

But one thing you had never worried about with Eddie was cheating. Eddie was the one person you always trusted implicitly. You actually had more of a sordid past than he did, having cheated on multiple partners while he said he had never cheated on even one. You believed him. Even the mere idea of him cheating never crossed your mind.

By this point, Eddie had completely discarded what he was working on at the back of the van to scramble up on his knees to where you were seated sideways in the passenger seat. He looked absolutely panicked, his eyes wide and filled with fear as he gazed into yours.

“Please, please believe me, Y/N,” Eddie said, cupping your face in his hands, his voice cracking. “I would never, ever do that to anyone, but especially not you.”

He looked so scared, so terrified, his tone heavy with a desperate plea.

And it was at that exact moment you started laughing.

It wasn’t just any kind of laugh, it was one of those laughing fits that soon had you nearly doubled over with tears streaming down your face.

Eddie leaned back a bit in surprise, his hands dropping down from your face to rest on your shoulders. A worried crease appeared between his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything until after your laughter had calmed down, just watched you with a helpless look on his face.

“Sweetheart?” he said, tentatively reached up with one hand to touch your cheek again lightly. “What-“

The question was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulled him closer and kissed him.

Eddie was so stunned he didn’t even kiss you back.

As you pulled away, you took one look at his expression, which was now a mixture of worry, panic, shock and now the fear that you’d finally lost it, and you could feel the laughing fit rising up again. You managed to suppress it down to a fit of giggles.

“They’re mine, you dumbass,” you said, giggling madly and grinning at him.

All of the expressions on Eddie’s face were instantly wiped away and replaced by one of deep confusion.

“Yours?”

You nodded.

Once you had realized what it was that you were holding, you instantly recognized the pair and remembered the night you lost them. You were just surprised he still had them after all this time. It happened many years ago during the second attempt you two made to date.

The two of you had gone to a friend’s birthday party together, making a date of it. As soon as you got in the van when he picked you up, the air had been sparking. It was the first time you had seen each other in a couple of months and the energy between you was electric, the sexual tension as strong as you’d ever felt it.

You both had known days ago when you made these plans how this night would end. If there was one thing you and Eddie had always, always been in perfect sync on, it was sex. Your energies matched perfectly, your bodies fit together as if they were made for each other. The intense passion mixed with rabid lust was always earth shaking. After your first night together, it was almost like you craved each other.

The two of you spent most of the party teasing each other. When the two of you finally left, Eddie couldn’t wait to get back to your place, much less into the back of his van. He pulled over to park on a secluded road and barely got it into park before he was dragging you over to straddle him in the driver’s seat. It was a bit tricky getting your pants off, but the two of you managed, only honking the horn a couple of times in the process. For whatever reason, you didn’t take your panties off at the same time, and they were soon ripped off you.

While you knew that probably wouldn’t jog his memory right away if you told him all that, you knew one particular thing about that night that definitely would.

“Remember when we discovered I like being choked?” you asked, grinning.

It only took a second before Eddie completely relaxed and his face broke into a wide grin.

“Holy shit,” he said, his eyes lighting up with the memory.

Shortly after Eddie ripped your panties off, you had been riding him when he suddenly grabbed you by the throat and leaned you back against the steering wheel to arch your chest out towards him. It was the first time anyone had ever grabbed you by the throat and you absolutely loved it. This became immediately obvious to Eddie when you cried out and clenched around him in a surprise orgasm. He wasn’t too far behind you after that.

“Now I remember,” he said, taking the pair of torn panties from you to look them over. “When I was leaving your place the next day, I saw them on the floorboard. I thought about going back in to give them to you but decided to keep them.”

To anyone else, that would’ve sounded weird, but for you, it made your heart skip a beat.

“Why?” you asked.

Eddie shrugged, a regretful look on his face as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“I was already freaking out again about how much I felt for you,” he said. “And I knew I was fixing to run away again because of it.” He shrugged again. “So, I wanted to make sure I had something of yours when that happened.”

Just a few days after that party, Eddie had suddenly stopped speaking to you again.

You smiled softly, and reached out to brush some stray curls out of his face.

“Good thing we don’t have to worry about that anymore, huh?” you said, then leaned forward to kiss him again, which he eagerly returned this time.

“Yup,” he agreed, then grinned. “We’re on a lease together and now a car loan. You’re kinda stuck with me.”

“And there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with,” you said happily.

After another slow, deep kiss, Eddie looked back down at the torn panties in his hand and grinned.

You watched as he balled them back up and leaned to one side so he could shove them into his pocket.

“Seriously?” you said, then laughed and pointed in the direction of your shared apartment. “You do realize I have a whole drawer full of those, right?”

“Believe me, I know,” he said, smirking. “But you always throw the torn ones away before I get the chance to grab a pair.”

Now that one got an eyebrow raise out of you.

“Why in the hell would you want a torn pair?” you asked, a bit confused by the idea since you couldn’t wear them again.

“Because these I’ve actually torn off to fuck you,” he said. “That means they’re lucky.”

You started laughing.

“Wait a second,” you said, a grin on your face. “Because you got lucky means they are lucky?”

“Hell yeah it does,” he grinned, then started moving back towards the area of the van he was working on. “And since you got lucky too that night, I’d say that makes them lucky for both of us.”

It was a pretty sound thread of Eddie Logic that was hard to argue.

The two of you went back to cleaning and it was a few minutes before either of you spoke again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You do know that if you find any others that aren’t yours, they were from before us, right?”

You turned and found him looking at you from the back of the van, a worried expression on his face.

You had never once worried about Eddie cheating on you, you certainly weren’t about to start now.

“Don’t worry, baby, I know,” you said, smiling warmly at him before switching to a playful grin. “But I will make fun of you for it if I do.”

Eddie started laughing.

“That’s fine by me, sweetheart,” he said grinning at you.

In the end, that was the only pair of panties either of you found while cleaning out the van.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot

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sissa-arrows · 4 months

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Albert Camus could not conceive of Algerian independence, nor could he conceive of himself as separate from French Algeria. It was his “red line in the sand,” the boundary which should not be crossed, the ultimate taboo. Algeria was the jewel in France’s colonial empire, so important that the French authorities considered it a region of France. It was not just a military conquest; it was an administrative one as well. Camus was defined and defined himself by colonial Algeria and could not live without it. Yet the paradox is that Camus persuasively uses the rhetoric of humanism while supporting French sovereignty over Algeria. Many of Albert Camus’ arguments are vastly identical to those trotted out today regarding Palestine.

“What is illegitimate in Arab demands ? The desire to regain a life of dignity and freedom, the total loss of confidence in any political solution backed by France, and the romanticism of some very young and politically unsophisticated insurgents have led certain Algerian fighters and their leaders to demand national independence. No matter how favourable one is to Arab demands, it must be recognized that to demand national independence for Algeria is a purely emotional response to the situation. There has never been an Algerian nation. The Jews, Turks, Greeks, Italians and Berbers all have a claim to lead this virtual nation. At the moment, the Arabs themselves are not the only constituent of that nation. In particular, the French population is large enough [c. 1/9], and it has been settled long enough [c. 150 years], to create a problem that has no historical precedent. The French of Algeria are themselves an indigenous population in the full sense of the word. Furthermore, a purely Arab Algeria would not be able to achieve economic independence, without which political independence is not real. French efforts in Algeria, however inadequate, have been sufficient that no other power is prepared to assume responsibility for the country at the present time.” — Algerian Chronicles

Camus is like the “Israeli left” and a part of the Western Left in general who cannot conceive the total liberation of Palestine. That’s why I said that if they actually cared they would have more “porteurs de valises” and less Albert Camus.

The porteurs de valises who were settlers totally conceived a free Algeria in their mind and they saw themselves living there as ALGERIANS and they did. They also acknowledged that as settlers they had bias and they worked on those bias (I made a post with the testimony of on of those men and how he realized that he had racist bias against Arabs and how he eventually realized that even if he was white his people were not French people but Algerians…) Most of those settlers who fought alongside our grandparents did not leave because they were kicked out at the independence. They left as refugees during the Black decade and had to fill the SAME paperwork as other Algerians. (I could talk about the 121’s Manifest but given that some of the people who signed it turned around and became Zionists I think the manifest was more about white people wanting a clear conscience they did put the right to not be an oppressor on the same level as the right to not be oppressed)

Camus on the other hand was racist he was a product of settler colonialism. You cannot steal, dispossess, oppress a people for over a century unless you don’t see them as fully human. He kept equating the resistance with the oppressor he kept pretending to condemn violence on “both sides” but when he was asked to sign the letter condemning the systematic use of torture by France against Algerians he refused to sign it. He also kept implying Algeria didn’t exist before France anyway. He also showed his lack of knowledge on history by claiming everyone had a right to Algeria anyway not just “Arabs” because Algeria had been part of the Roman Empire and the Ottoman Empire. Jews as a whole have zero rights over Algeria. Imazighen Jews had a right over Algeria because they were Imazighen not because they were Jews. If Turks, Italian, Greeks had a right over Algeria then we have a right over the south of France, over Spain, over Sicily, over Greece because some Roman leaders were Imazighen and because Al Andalus existed.

But what’s maybe one of my biggest issue with Camus, probably because that’s still happening to these days. Is how his position would require only Algerians to compromise. Settlers were simply asked to stop the killing and to pretend to see Algerians as equal humans that’s not a fucking compromise. Algerians on the other hand were asked to pretend that nothing had happened? Those white settlers who had killed your sons and nephews on May 8th 1945 in Setif and around? They never got punished for it. They never even expressed regrets they were proud of it. Algerians were asked to just forget about it to pretend it never happened. The guy who stole your father’s land and is making money from that land? In Camus’ Algeria he gets to keep that land in exchange he must pretend Algerians are equal. The Algerian has to pretend that land was never stolen that he doesn’t have a right to it. In Camus’ vision for Algeria only the Algerian is asked to actually make compromise so the white man gets to be cleaned of his sins.

To these days in the West, PoC are the one asked to make compromises all the fucking time (sometimes on a smaller scale sometimes not). “vote for the lesser of two evils it will be easier to fight and we will help”. Once the lesser of two evils is elected the people who told us to compromise don’t respect their part of the deal they actually call us out when we protest. Because those “deals” are not meant to save us all they are meant to save white people. Because the lesser of two evils doesn’t affect them and their lives so they will be able to afford staying comfortably at home and criticize us for still fighting.

That’s why what I resent the most about Camus is that “let’s make a compromise” attitude that actually only requires compromises from Algerians while settlers get to keep up with their lives the same exact way except they have to pretend they see us as humans. I would believe in the genuine intent behind these compromises (while still being against it) if reparation was mentioned for example but no, settlers get to live the exact same way as they did before they just get absolved of their crimes without ever getting justice. Meanwhile Algerians are asked to pretend nothing happened.

Just like I previously said that a settler colony cannot create settlers without racist bias and that they need to work on those bias, a settler colony also cannot create indigenous people who are not oppressed. Every single Algerian family has a fucked up story to tell about the horror of colonialism. Every single Palestinian family has a fucked up story to tell about the horror of colonialism. Every single Native of Turtle Island family has a fucked up story to tell about the horror of colonialism. I could go on, the point is you can’t ask people to just pretend it never happened because now the settlers are pretending to see you as a human.

#Albert Camus #settler colonialism #algeria #French racism #settler colonialism lead to genocide #racism #indigenous rights #ask

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journeytothewestresearch · 6 months

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PSA - Don't Treat JTTW As Modern Fiction

This is a public service announcement reminding JTTW fans to not treat the work as modern fiction. The novel was not the product of a singular author; instead, it's the culmination of a centuries-old story cycle informed by history, folklore, and religious mythology. It's important to remember this when discussing events from the standard 1592 narrative.

Case in point is the battle between Sun Wukong and Erlang. A friend of a friend claims with all their heart that the Monkey King would win in a one-on-one battle. They cite the fact that Erlang requires help from other Buddho-Daoist deities to finish the job. But this ignores the religious history underlying the conflict. I explained the following to my acquaintance:

I hate to break it to you [name of person], but Erlang would win a million times out of a million. This is tied to religious mythology. Erlang was originally a hunting deity in Sichuan during the Han (202 BCE-220 CE), but after receiving royal patronage during the Later Shu (934-965) and Song (960-1279), his cult grew to absorb the mythos of other divine heroes. This included the story of Yang Youji, an ape-sniping archer, leading to Erlang's association with quelling primate demons. See here for a broader discussion. This is exemplified by a 13th-century album leaf painting. The deity (right) oversees spirit-soldiers binding and threatening an ape demon (left).

Erlang was connected to the JTTW story cycle at some point, leading to a late-Yuan or early-Ming zaju play called The God Erlang Captures the Great Sage Equaling Heaven (二郎神鎖齊天大聖). In addition, The Precious Scroll of Erlang (二郎寳卷, 1562), a holy text that predates the 1592 JTTW by decades, states that the deity defeats Monkey and tosses him under Tai Mountain. So it doesn't matter how equal their battle starts off in JTTW, or that other deities join the fray, Erlang ultimately wins because that is what history and religion expects him to do. And as I previously mentioned, Erlang has royal patronage. This means he was considered an established god in dynastic China. Sun Wukong, on the other hand, never received this badge of legitimacy. This was no doubt because he's famous for rebelling against the Jade Emperor, the highest authority. No human monarch in their right mind would publicly support that. Therefore, you can look at the Erlang-Sun Wukong confrontation as an established deity submitting a demon.

I'm sad to say that my acquaintance immediately ignored everything I said and continued debating the subject based on the standard narrative. That's when I left the conversation. It's clear that they don't respect the novel; it's nothing more than fodder for battleboarding.

I understand their mindset, though. I love Sun Wukong more than just about anyone. I too once believed that he was the toughest, the strongest, and the fastest. But learning more about the novel and its multifaceted influences has opened my eyes. I now have a deeper appreciation for Monkey and his character arc. Sure, he's a badass, but he's not an omnipotent deity in the story. There is a reason that the Buddha so easily defeats him.

In closing, please remember that JTTW did not develop in a vacuum. It may be widely viewed around the world as "fiction," but it's more of a cultural encyclopedia of history, folklore, and religious mythology. Realizing this and learning more about it ultimately helps explain why certain things happen in the tale.

#sun wukong #monkey king #journey to the west #jttw #Erlang #Erlang shen #Buddhism #Taoism #Chinese mythology #Chinese religion

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 days

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AITA trying to contact my ex about our dog's health insurance after he asked me to stop contacting him?

My ex and I recently got divorced. We had a dog together (Gus), but in the divorce I got to keep him. Last weekend, Gus got really sick and started throwing a ton. I rushed him to the vet for treatment and called my ex for the first time in months. He had told me that if anything happened to Gus, to reach out and he'd help. Well, I called him to check on the details of the Gus's health insurance because it was through his work (he got a $5 discount each month). He told me that Gus was insured and to send him the bills and he'd file the claims online. Also, it was my ex's birthday that day by pure coincidence. I didn't want to contact him on his birthday, but I had no choice! I needed to figure out the health insurance so I could know how much of the bill would be covered before paying thousands of dollars.

Turned out Gus had pancreatitis, nothing too serious with treatment. I spent about $1500 in vet bills that day. After paying everything under the assumption that insurance would ultimately pay $900 of the bill and I'd only pay $600, my ex texted me to never contact him again because "he needed space" and that talking to me was "too painful." I told him, okay I'll stop messaging you but just give me the insurance login so I can file the claim or transfer ownership of the policy to me (as my name was not on the insurance policy, I have no access to it at all unless he transfers the account to me, authorizes me, or gives me the login information).

He refused. Every time I kept messaging him, asking him to do one of those two things, he kept turning it around on me and telling me that I was being selfish and disrespectful by ignoring his boundaries, that Gus isn't his problem and since I got to keep him, I have to pay his bills. So now I have to not only pay all the bills and follow-up care, but I have to get a new policy and with how insurance works in the US, Gus will no longer be covered for future issues related to pancreatits or his skin allergies, because those are now considering "pre-existing conditions." 🙄

Well, I kept bugging him for days. I offered to pay him $200 to make the transfer. I threatened to message his sister and see if she would talk sense into him and he claimed that "I nearly gave his mom a stroke" because of the whole divorce so to not message his family. I requested he attend mediation with me so we could handle the issue, and he said he could meet with me in JUNE (this happened mid March) which will give him plenty of time to cancel the policy, I'm sure. I considered getting a court order to attend mediation with me but that'd cost $300. He kept refusing to help me, so I kept pushing and texting him and trying to call him, despite his requests to leave him alone. The $1500 vet bill is whatever. It sucks but I'll pay whatever I have to to keep my baby boy healthy. I'm just furious that this will make me get a new policy and that if more of the same issues come up, it won't be covered when it SHOULD BE. He just needs to transfer the policy (that he was still paying btw) to me.

I'm sure I'm not the asshole but my ex clearly seems to think I am, so I came here to open the question to tumblr. AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

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heyidkyay · 2 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Seventeen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Okay! Hi!:) Just have to say thank you for all the love you lot keep showing this series, it’s so mad and so very appreciated. Honestly makes me want to carry on writing. But I also wanted to add a quick warning to this update.. There is a lot going on, we finally get what we’ve been waiting for!! But there are other topics that also come into play. SO that being said please read the warnings below.

Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse (past tense), as well as sobriety, also a previous death, bit gruesome but needed- this relates back to a conversation held between Matty and Jamie in Part Eight.

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

She never did call.

Matty waited, and then waited some more. He fidgeted the rest of the day, smoked his way through a pack of fags when they’d been down at the studio, and then nursed a single pint after having allowed the guys to bully him into one of the local pubs.

It wasn’t until much later that night that he heard anything from her at all, and it hadn’t been a call, but instead a text.

Messages now Squeaks xx I listened to it

He’d been cooped up in his office since the second he’d gotten home, looking through a couple of older demos and other sound clips in hopes that he’d find something that would fit with the current sound of their new album. George had been on his case about it all, claiming he’d been too spaced out as of late, so Matty had huffed but ultimately followed through.

Songbooks from years before were piled up high on his desk and on the floor, pages full of chords and scribbled lyrics cluttered the rest of the space, but he continued on, using it to distract him from the torturous wait.

When his phone finally did buzz, Matty had almost decided not to answer it, figuring that it would just be a message from Jamie, or maybe his mum. He was still waiting for that ring. But fuck was he glad that he’d taken a glance. Otherwise he might’ve missed it.

Are you busy?

The next text had come through almost a minute after the first, as though she’d been debating sending it. Matty frowned down at the screen, pushing away from his desk slightly.

She’d heard it.

She’d heard the demo.

He didn’t quite know how to feel about that, or what to take from her clipped response. It was why he had essentially asked her to call him, because at least then he would’ve been able to somewhat determine what she’d thought about it, how she might’ve felt.

His tongue slid between the row of his front teeth in thought, staring down at the messages he’d received whilst his thumbs hovered over the keyboard looking for something to say.

Can you come over?

His fucking breath got caught in his throat just reading that, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. Matty didn't even think before he hastily answered her, worried she might take it all back.

Give me ten minutes.

He could do ten minutes.

Fuck it. He’d fucking speedtail it out of here and try for five if it meant that she’d just let him in again. The last week had been painful enough, no need to fucking prolong it.

So that was what he did, throwing on the first pair of trainers he’d found in the hallway and grabbing at the car keys he’d tossed down on the counter months earlier. Forgetting about the album and the work he’d planned to do, along with whatever else that had seemed so important just a second ago.

She called and he would come running.

…

It was pissing down by the time he made it to her place.

Headlights on and ignition still running, Matty went to make his escape from the driver's seat, practically vibrating with the anticipation of it all. But he did momentarily pause to yank the keys from beneath the wheel before eventually scrabbling his way out of the sidedoor, feet immediately dropping into the murky puddle sat beneath.

He’d parked like a fucking dickhead, halfway onto the curb and his boot sticking out into the empty street, but he could care less about it as he jogged around the front of the car and up the first few steps to her door.

There was blood rushing in his ears, filling up his head and making him dizzy with it all. He raised a fist to knock, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

He’d gotten there in just under seven minutes.

His heart was pounding like mad.

He knocked.

It was minutes or maybe seconds before he heard a slight scuffle on the other side. Before the hallway light turned on and peered through the painted window pane sat atop the familiar front door.

The chain fell with a clang and Matty swallowed, watching on as the hinges creaked, revealing her face.

She stared up at him, standing in a pair of pyjamas he remembered seeing on a late night call of theirs, her hair all tied up in one of those pretty buns, soft curls escaping at the sides.

Her lips parted with her next breath, the sound of it jumped out at him and Matty couldn’t really hold back anymore. It had been six months. Six whole months. Almost to the day they’d met... Back when he’d been cocksure and arrogant. When he’d still been reeling from another stint in rehab, and from the stunt before the summer, and from Luke’s death.

Matty paused.

He hadn’t really thought about Luke so easily. Not ever. Not since that night. Not in passing.

But she was currently staring back at him. Her eyes wide and tired. Shining in the light of the street lamps that crowded the street outside.

Matty stepped forward, reaching for her.

“Tell me to stop.” He muttered.

She didn’t.

And so his hand found the edge of her jaw, fingers nestling into a place at her hairline, skimming the tip of her ear.

“I can’t.” She answered him. Always so full of truth.

And Matty, Matty was a selfish man. He’d been a selfish kid, too. A bratty teenager. A hellish son and an even worse boyfriend. Always so egotistical, so bold, so brazen. But even more so, selfish.

He would take and take. And this moment was no different. He took.

Her mouth met his with an agonising fever, and there was an eager sigh that escaped in the breath shared between them that Matty couldn’t really determine if was his or hers.

She let him in so easily, let his tongue roam. She let him pull her close, let his hand find purchase on her hip and hear her moan.

It was a whimper of a thing, a sound that was swallowed up by his mouth as he consumed her again. But it fuelled that fire within him, that heat which had been simmering so close to the surface of his skin for weeks, months now.

“Mouse.” Matty said shakily, walking her backwards, further into the flat, where their feet shuffled over the hardwood floors. The door swung shut behind them and rattled in the silence before he was spinning and pressing her shoulders up against its cold wood.

“Matty.” She breathed back to him, fingers catching on his neck, then his jaw, winding their way up into his hair. Tugging.

A grunt escaped him and he pressed harder with it, teeth catching on her teeth, hands moulding into her skin.

She tasted of something sweet, it coated the length of her tongue and melded well with the cigarette he’d lit on his way over. He wanted to taste more of it, found his nose pressing against the skin of her cheek in an attempt to do so.

It was a second later that he felt himself rut up against her, accidentally mind, but the zip of his jeans tugged at the band of her bottoms and the movement made him realise he was hard. Had been half-way there from the moment she had texted him, but now, in her hallway, with her grinding up against him, and with those pretty little sounds she let slip, it was almost painful.

“Squeaks.” He managed to force out and she swallowed her own name right up, one arm wrapping around the length of his shoulders whilst the other tugged at the nape of his neck.

Matty followed her demands effortlessly, a hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel at the warm skin hidden beneath, a calloused thumb brushing against the jut of her hip.

He explored, felt the edges of rigid flesh she kept hidden and out of sight, the freckles that lingered and dotted her torso, then wedged his knee between her legs. Hands grabbing at the backs of her thighs.

One of her knees rode up higher on his side as he shifted even closer, letting her use him like a makeshift ladder to lift herself further up in the little space which stood between him and the door.

He rutted again and the joint of her knee tightened by his hip, the heel of her foot digging into the back of his leg, forcing him even nearer. He grabbed at the swell of her arse, noting the way she arched into him at the touch. How her stomach tensed.

It had just been pissing it down outside, he recalled belatedly, but her warmth in that moment seemed to dry up the remaining raindrops caught in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat. His fingertips pressed harder into her thighs at the thought, feeling the bottom of her shirt ride up higher between them upon catching on the zip of his jacket.

She nipped at his lip, then his jaw, hands all but clawing at his neck and his back.

“Squeaks.” He tried again, brain hazy with want but needing to do this right. He had to do this right. “Squeaks.” Again he said, a plea within a shared breath between them, “Baby, please.”

She retreated all too quickly, letting him go with a sharp inhale. Lids heavy with avidity as she blinked back at him.

Matty realised then that he’d had her pinned to the door, crowded against the wood and practically having lifted her up off of her feet. He swallowed thickly at the sight and willed his dick to calm the fuck down. But it had been way too fucking long.

He was unhurried in the way he shifted beneath her before carefully letting her go, unwinding the leg he held at his hip before she slid slowly down his front. Feet hitting the cold wood floors with a soft thud.

He blinked and gone was that selfishness they had just shared, that immediate heat, and suddenly she was all wary, shy almost. Matty reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before he steeled himself and finally took a step back.

“You came.” She murmured after a breath, and had his mind been in better shape he’d have been quicker with his quip.

But yet, he was left drifting in between the heady thrill and the uneventful come down they’d shared.

He blinked slowly at her. Could see that the hallway light was the only one on, but somewhere, further down the hall, a soft glow from one of her many lamps crept its way past a door.

“You said you’d call.” He found himself saying in reply, though it wasn’t the reprimand he’d thought it was.

Her smile was soft then. Fond.

His breath caught at the sight of her, still laboured from the minute before.

“After.” Squeaks whispered in recall. And Matty heard himself repeat it, “After, you said.”

She took a small step closer to him, the padding of her feet echoed in the narrow walkway. Matty’s hands twitched at his sides.

He saw her throat bob.

“Tea?” She questioned, and Matty was both thankful and resentful for the quiet offer.

He nodded, blinking owlishly at her.

They stood there, not moving, for a long moment. The sound of a car passed, then the scuffle of a person or two outside, as well as the far off yap of a neighbouring dog. And still they just stood there, staring.

She took another step nearer and Matty attempted not to react to the way her fingers caught on the front of his coat, memorising the careful way she started to peel it off of him, turning so that she could claim it and then hang it off some place to the side. He looked at her the whole while, scared to take his eyes off her, in truth.

He licked at his lower lip when he caught her staring too and captured her hand in his when she went to step around him.

“Tea.” He reminded himself and she smiled, eyes flickering across the length of his face. As though she was seeing him for the first time.

“Tea.”

…

Her kitchen always felt so homely.

She had spices fixed to a rack on the wall, wound in growing ivy attached to the potted plant that sat on the windowsill beside it. Her fridge was dotted in magnets and polaroids, and a drawing of Teddy’s hung front and centre. The table was always so neat, though still cluttered with the odd crayon and lego piece, a bowl of fruit was perched in the very middle. She had one of those kettle cosy’s too, a knitted one that reminded Matty of days spent at his nana’s house when he was just a boy.

His favourite part of all of it though, had to be her.

He stood in the doorway and just watched as she puttered about the space, flashbacks of previous visits coming back to him. She had this easy grace about her, an elegance he always seen but could never quite make out. She was a piece to many puzzles in the way she typically held herself, so ready to fight and so willing to wilt, but in that moment she just was.

And Matty could hardly tear his eyes away from her, from the length of her back to the curve of her waist. The taste, the memory of her still coating his tongue.

He’d kicked off his shoes before he could trail a messy track throughout her home, so his footsteps were quiet when he finally crossed the kitchen tiles. He paused just behind her, his hands falling to her hips whilst his chin dropped to rest on her shoulder.

She allowed it. Picking up the kettle to pour over two mismatched mugs, he simply watched her work.

It was a difficult task not allowing his hands to wander, or to keep his mouth from pressing against the pulse in her neck, but he withheld, content to just hold her. Humming when she picked up the milk and thinking over the last day they’d spent together. That night at his.

They moved over to the table not long after, her kitchen blinds were still open so the moon gifted them all the light they needed. Matty kept close, knocking his knees against hers at the very corner of the table, unwilling to go without.

She was quiet still whilst she danced a finger around the rim of her steaming brew, Matty was mesmerised by the delicate motion.

A hum of hers broke the silence they had since settled in, the softness of it causing him to blink and look up, immediately recognising the faint tune of the demo he’d sent her.

He smiled, his eyes caught on to the one she wore too. Practically conspiratorial.

His legs reached outwards to capture one of her ankles between his feet, her gaze flickered back and forth between both his eyes. He wondered what she saw in them, what she made of him.

“I’m guessing you liked it then.” Matty spoke, voice ever so low, still scared to break their languid solitude.

Mouse dipped her chin in a nod, peering up at him through dark lashes that made him want to catch her by the neck and pull her in again. He knew what she tasted like now, he felt as though it would forever haunt him.

“Thank you,” She whispered after, fingers cupped around the bottom of her mug. His brow furrowed.

“For what?”

She smiled again, blinking at him sweetly, “For my gifts, for always being so lovely, for sending me that song.”

Matty snorted, knowing that the last thing he could possibly be was lovely.

Fingertips touched his chin then and she guided his face back up to meet hers, he hadn’t realised he’d even looked away. But it was then that he was reminded of that night in his own kitchen, crowded between her legs and the counter, her kind eyes. You’re enough.

“Was it for me?” She questioned, watching him closely again. Something she tended to always do. “‘Cause that kiss, it sort of made it feel like it was for me.”

Matty grinned, eyes squinting with the strength of it.

It was so easy- too easy, even- for her to make him smile like that, and he couldn’t even begin to decide whether he loved or hated the fact that she had the ability.

“Yeah, Squeaks. It was for you.”

Her cheeks dimpled in an attempt to dim the smile she then wore, elbows pressing against the table’s edge, her foot resting on top of his own. “Good.” She murmured, leaning in closer now.

“Good?” He chuckled, following the motion. Eyes caught on the curve of her mouth.

“Uhuh,” She breathed into the small space between them, nose brushing against the side of Matty’s own. “Really good.”

He laughed again, low and breathy this time around, before he finally closed the distance and kissed her for a second time.

She laughed too, smiling against his lips.

–

For an insomniac, the dark was a place full of many contradictions.

Matty had spent countless hours staring up at all types of ceilings, in all sorts of places, and in all kinds of countries. But hers, he reckoned, was possibly his favourite. As most things had come to be in the short time he’d spent with Mouse.

Because even as she slept on beside him, bundled in the duvet and a blanket that smelt of her, he didn’t stress over the fact that he was still wide awake.

His mind was too preoccupied to stress. Just thinking back to the expression she’d worn when she’d first opened the front door. To the breathy gasps that had escaped her in the hallway. The way she’d gently carded her fingers through his hair after she’d lured him into bed. Promising to talk more tomorrow.

He thought of Luke then, as well. As he often did whenever the darkness plagued him.

The fucker would be laughing if he could just see him now, obsessing and all soppy over some bird. Smiling away to himself in the dark.

But Matty knew that he’d be happy too. Glad that he was finally getting back on the right track. Actually trying this time around. Because Luke had known the hardships of addiction just as well as Matty had- it was what had killed him in the end, wasn't it.

He could still picture his face, both before and after the fall. One second they’d all been grinning on that roof, high as kites and drunk out of their minds, having the time of their lives, and then his had hit the concrete.

Matty’s stomach rolled at the thought.

At the eerie silence that had followed.

He’d been struggling that night, trying to get clean, to stay clean. And they’d only gone to the party, Luke and Danny, to appease him. Luke, having tagged along wanting to look out for him, to make sure that he didn’t get too caught up in anything he couldn’t get himself out of.

Luke had been sober three months at that point. Clean of the drugs and the drink. All of it. He’d drank that night though, the party had been at one of his dodgier mates places and he wouldn’t have been able to have stayed in the clear.

Matty remembered egging him on, telling him to live a little. To have a beer. A shot. And then another. And another. Someone else had offered him that line though.

He’d been hammered by the time some idiot had come up with that dare and they’d all thought it had been a sick idea to try and walk the length of the roof. Like they were at Zippo’s sodding circus.

Luke had been doing so good. Matty had known it too. What with his first EP coming out that September, something which Jamie had made happen, and his new flat that he’d not long moved into. Away from the familiarity of street corners he knew far too well and faces of dealers that he’d seen time and time again before.

He’d been good. Been going steady.

Then he was just dead.

Matty didn’t close his eyes then, even as they began to water. Didn’t want to see him like that. Knew that he would if only he shut his eyes. Because he couldn't stand to see the reminder, the life that had left him too quickly.

A slight sniff broke him from his thoughts then and he stilled as Mouse moved and turned in her sleep.

He let himself breathe a little easier once she’d settled again, tucking her face into the crook of his shoulder and nestling further into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, needing her close, and then finally allowed his eyes to fall shut, burying his face in the top of her hair.

He wondered if she’d let him stay from now on and pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

He hoped that she would, listening to the quiet that hummed throughout the rest of her flat as his mind began to let go of what consciousness it had once clung on to.

‘Tomorrow’ was his final thought before he eventually drifted off. It had been a long time since he’d thought that he’d ever make it to a tomorrow.

–

It was a grunt I woke up to. The heavy and unfavoured kind, the type that was only ever forced out of you when you received a hefty blow to the stomach.

I felt my face wrinkle as I pressed in closer to the warmth beside me, unhappy to have been woken. But then I heard a whisper, followed by a giggle, which had me blinking blearily and peering up at the toddler now towering over me.

“Wake now?”

“Teddy.” I heard someone else laugh right above my head, and I was quick in the way I looked up, recognising that the warmth I’d been clinging to had been Matty all along. “You’re an actual monster, you know that?”

Teddy squealed happily when Matty tickled his sides, but seemed content with his place on the man’s stomach and the fact that Matty was here at all.

I wanted to groan at the very idea, I hadn't much thought this through. Not when I’d heard the song, thinking back to the night I’d spent at his, the fight we’d had, the way he’d held Teddy and promised him that things would soon be alright.

It hadn’t felt real. It still didn’t.

“Wake?” Teddy said to me again and I had to give a soft laugh when I felt his finger prod at my cheek, which was probably marked with the line of Matty’s t-shirt now. “Yeah?”

I chuckled again, peering up at him. “Yeah, I’m awake.” I replied, smiling before I rubbed at my eyes.

Matty’s arm seemed to be tucked up under me because it twitched a tad when I moved. I grimaced at the loss of feeling he must have experienced and murmured a quiet “Sorry,” shuffling over slightly so that I could free the limb. But he merely laughed to himself before his hand came up to rub at my arm, keeping me close.

“It’s fine.” Matty replied, his voice tinged with sleep and grainy from lack of use, but then he winced and flexed his fingers, “Oh.”

I snorted softly and glanced up at him, “Pins and needles?”

His nose wrinkled further, as did his lips when he tilted his head back and tried to shake loose the feeling from his wrist. I let him have his arm back, turning over onto my stomach to simply watch him, drinking in the sight of him whilst I still could.

“Yeah.” He hissed out and Teddy, who was watching too, started to shake his arm alongside Matty.

Matty only noticed the mimicking movement when he felt the toddler shift on his torso and opened his eyes up only to laugh at the way that Teddy was now copying him.

“Oi,” He admonished, using his other hand to playfully pinch at the boy’s side, “What you think you’re doin’?”

Teddy giggled, hair a mess from having just woken but grinning all the while. “Dancin’! Like you!”

I shook my head and bit back my sudden amusement before dropping it down into my hands when I couldn’t quite manage to hide my growing smile.

“Oh, we’re dancing are we?” I heard Matty say, and could feel the grin he probably wore. Then Teddy was laughing again and squirming beside me once more, sounding so happy, before the bed tilted more so to one side and a soft thud was heard. “Oi, where you off to!” Matty asked him whilst Teddy’s giggles still echoed around the space.

“Tele!” Was the only response he got and I listened to the way Teddy’s feet hurried out of the room, having escaped Matty’s merciless tickles.

There was a quiet for a moment before I felt a hand come to cradle my head and fingers card their way through my hair.

I leaned into the touch, savouring it. I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me with such a softness before, like I was something to be treasured, to be held and kept close.

It was a long while before I finally raised my head again, blinking at the sweet sight I was met with. I smiled at the mess his curls were in and the way his eyes squinted in the dim light of the room.

“Hi.” I whispered and his fingers stilled in my hair when he looked back at me.

Matty didn’t say a thing though, merely shuffled further down the bed, the duvet being kicked somewhere to the bottom before he finally settled in beside me, both our heads now resting on a single pillow.

His fingertips skirted along the edge of my jaw and trailed across the bottom of my lip before his thumb reached out to catch it too, pinching the flesh ever so slightly.

“You snore.” Matty said to me then and my mouth dropped open slightly in offence.

“I do not.”

He snorted to himself, grin widening, “You do.”

I shoved him but his hands were quick to grab at my arms, wrapping them up and moving to press them against his chest. “It’s cool though, they’re cute snores.”

“How the fuck can they be cute, Matty?”

He rolled his eyes at the ask, still grinning away. “Like, just soft and stuff. Don’t stress, I’ve roomed with George and he’s got the lungs of a whale or summat. I could probably sleep next to a fog horn and feel at home.”

A bright laugh escaped me at that, before I was shaking my head gently and looking back at his sleepy smile. “That makes me feel so much better.”

Matty smacked his lips around another grin, shrugging the shoulder that wasn’t pressed to the mattress. He reached out then, brushing a loose strand from out of my face and let his thumb linger on a freckle.

“Your breath stinks as well.”

I bit into my bottom lip at that, narrowing my eyes at him. “Well yours is no better! And besides, you didn’t seem to mind it much last night.”

I went to turn over then but he was hasty in his movements to grab at me, tugging me back towards him, closer this time. I laughed joyfully, “Hey!”

“Hi.” Matty grinned smugly once we'd settled, his hand falling to the small of my back.

I was gripping one of his shoulders now whilst my other arm laid in the little space between us. “I said that already.” I told him, feeling each soft exhale that escaped him.

He hummed, thumb rubbing circles into my skin. “I missed you, you know.”

My brow furrowed, “You slept right beside me, you muppet.”

He pinched my hip in retaliation and so I chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

I did know.

“Missed you, too.” I murmured, letting my fingertips trail up over the side of his neck, liking the feel of his barely there stubble. “But-”

He stopped me then, nudging my cheek with the tip of his nose, “I know. Later, yeah?”

My eyes fell closed and I hummed in agreement, later was fine. We could talk later.

His hand pressed against the curve of my back, forcing me even closer, and so my fingers worked themselves into his hair. I exhaled softly and tilted my head forward just a touch. He closed the distance between us in a single heartbeat.

Kissing Matty was different, everything about it just felt right in a way that no other kisses ever quite had. Things appeared to click. Fall into place around me.

But don't get me wrong, it was painful too, because there was that ache in my chest again, the hole that hollowed out my unforgiving heart. I wanted him but at the same time, I was too terrified to reach out and touch.

Our lips brushed, once, twice, then a third time, hesitant and careful, before something shifted and I was taken back to the previous night. To the way his fingers had dug deep into my thighs, to the front door pressing against my spine, to the way he’d held me so weightlessly.

Talking could wait til later, I reminded myself.

Now, all I wanted was for Matty to consume me and I immediately gasped at the cold hand that dragged its way up my side to tease me, thumb brushing against the nipple that hardened beneath it.

I wouldn’t let him have all the fun though, so without a second thought I rolled him over and settled on his hips. He was surprised by the change but adapted seamlessly, rutting up off the mattress to meet me, one hand still toying with me, taunting, whilst the other cupped the back of my head.

It was back and forth for a short while, mouth chasing mouth, chests heaving with the force of it.

But then, a bang hollowed out the flat.

I jumped at the sudden noise and shot my head over towards the door, listening in closer.

“Okay?” I called out, noting the breathless quality my voice now had. I waited and didn’t move even when Matty’s hands came to just sit on my waist.

“‘Kay!” I heard Teddy shout back and I released a semi-amused huff before turning back to face the man beneath me, “Sorry.”

And I was. I really was, especially when I forced myself to drop back down onto the bed sheets next to him.

Matty simply chuckled and I glanced over at him, smiling slightly when he reached out to swipe a gentle thumb over the scar on my jaw. “You’re good." I wondered if he was just saying that, but then, "What do you think he’s actually done though? Sounded like the bike to me.”

I sighed at the very thought. The bike had been one of my mum’s many Christmas gifts to Teddy, one which I hardly had any room for in the flat. I silently hoped that it wasn't the bike, but was caught on the way Matty had so easily adapted, moving on without complaint.

Was that normal?

Matty’s hand coaxed me back into looking at him again and I softened when I saw the smile he wore. “Later,” He reminded me, knocking a knuckle against my chin before he withdrew completely, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “How about a fry up then? There's that bakery by the studio or the cafe up near mine, choice is yours but it’s on me.”

“Matty.” I huffed, not a whine but near enough, extending an arm out in hopes that it would call him back to bed.

He smirked, glancing at me from over his shoulder once he'd stood. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Come on, got a growing boy to feed- Teddy too, I 'spose.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my grin. “You’re an idiot.”

“So you’ve said.” He quipped and I could hear how his laughter filled the flat even as he headed for the bathroom, “Teds get ready, mate! We're getting bacon!”

I fell back onto the mattress with a smile, staring up at the ceiling above me with a little bit of hope.

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Text

Vernon and The Beastly Heir (Tw: flashing banner)

Pairing: son of Gaston!Vernon x afab!reader

Genre: angst, fantasy au, smut

Word count: 9.5k

tags: features seokmin and chan, E2L, royal!reader, fairy tale academia (college), child of beauty and beast!reader, mentions of blood, mentions of weapons, aggressive!vernon, aggressive!reader, mentions of alcohol, strangulation, stalking, sub!vernon, hair pulling (reader giving), mommy kink (reader identifies as they/them but accepting), handjobs, choking, oral (reader rec.), spitting (vern receiving), cumplay, cum eating, unprotected sex, creampies

Summary: Everyone knows the story of beauty and the beast. Well, that was your parents and now you're attending college with the son of Gaston of all people. You're ready to start fresh with him but it seems like all he wants to do is kill you.

author note: here he is, just took me two? three weeks. i hope you guys enjoy. it's quite different from what i usually write and just hope it translates well. next off is a spinoff heheh

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You only knew about Vernon through his ancestry. His father tried to kill yours, but your father happened to be successful in killing his.

Vernon was born out of wedlock after the news of his father’s passing, and his mother would tell her son all kinds of disfigured tales of his father’s past. She called him the most handsome of all the land, the strongest, most beloved. He was a true man’s man. She was always so hopelessly in love with him. Many women were, unlike your mother, who was the one that was actually the so-called apple of his eye.

Your mother was almost forced to marry his father when he threatened your grandfather’s life. He would use him as leverage, keeping her within reach until she eventually met your father in his most hideous form. Despite appearances and circumstances, your father became her savior.

Vernon’s father, Gaston, would not dare dream of a world where your mother had fallen for anyone else, let alone such a ‘hairy grotesque and daunting being’.

Alas, that’s exactly what happened and Gaston was so far deep in his narcissism that he couldn’t see the truth in front of him. Perhaps he couldn't see he was claiming a woman that wanted nothing to do with because he gallivanted around town to trap other women with his charisma. They all worshiped at his feet, how would your mother be any different? Countless lovers, far and wide, Vernon’s mother being one of them. Time would tell soon enough came after their night together, following Vernon’s birth–fatherless and supportless–and eventually Gaston’s downfall.

A bastard.

Gaston underestimated your father and paid the ultimate price, falling into an abyss, and meeting the thick shards of rock waiting for him below.

As a child, you found this story difficult to grasp, as death was still a foreign concept. Now hearing about it from time to time, it became only a piece of history. A remarkably relatable piece of history.

Regardless, you hadn’t been born then, and neither had he. You were strangers. You shouldn’t have had a problem with each other.

Yet, he glared at you the moment you took your first steps into university together. You recognized him since he and his father were almost duplicates of one another. He had his father's devilishly good looks, broad build, and effortless smolder that had people weak at their knees. He was just as beautiful as everyone said. However, his glare burned through you like a rising phoenix, shooting through your body in a blazing heat every time you were in the same room. Did he despise you as much as he looked like he did?

You confirmed your assumptions in your swordsman’s class. You always admired the strength of a sword welder. You practiced it on your own in secret back at home, confident in your skill. But by the looks of it, Vernon had a similar sentiment, performing tremendously with the weapon in his hand.

It came at a time you’d spar, and you could swear you saw your life flash before your eyes. When you drew your swords, his quick footing took you by immediate surprise. A flurry of his offenses came in your direction, taking you on at full force. You could only hear the clangs of metal and your grunts, perspiration trickling down your face and back. You tried to relay the same force, fighting as if your life was on the line. You knew the strength you had, but Vernon was startlingly superior. He was effortlessly swift, moving like a course of water, almost hitting you with every attack.

Your heart pounded out of your chest, staring back at the impenetrable darkness in his eyes. Slash after slash. Clang after clang. Pure murder was all he could see. This man was merciless, determined to make you meet an end. You just didn’t know if it meant the end of the lesson or your life.

Finally, his final strike swiped your cheek. The blade caressed the side of your face in a swift stroke, and a thinly veiled tear on your skin revealed the moment the sword is back to his side and you were stricken on the ground. You gasp in shock, eyes shooting up at the pain, and you tried not to tarnish your regal status any more than you already had with crying.

Never let your emotions control you, your father said many times.

You felt the blood dripping from the side of your face only to quickly wipe away with your uniform sleeve. Your eyes forced forward in Vernon’s direction, not even an ounce of guilt in his eyes as he walked away in his silent victory. You tightened your fist, tempted to slam them on the hard floor in frustration, while flushed throughout your entire being.

In your rare moment of weakness, you could hear light but quick footsteps approaching. Seokmin’s kind eyes stared back at yours as he came to your aid. His long legs swung beneath him in urgency before placing himself next to you. His honey-sweet timbre stroked your side, the twinkle in his eyes startling you as used his sheer strength to princely lift you up in his arms. Making it to the nurse’s office, his warm smile took your body temperature to new heights and the caged butterflies in your stomach broke free under his gentle touch.

Unlike Vernon, Seokmin didn’t despise you. He brought up a point of how similar you were the longer you spent time together. His mother too was once trapped in a curse only to have her love conquer all in the end. He carved for a story like theirs one day. There was enough commonality between you both for simulating conversations. And much like how much you heard about the half-mermaid, his voice was an extraordinary gift, capable of moving sailors and boatmen just as effectively. Just as it’s moved you. It was one of the things you found so devastatingly attractive about him.

You couldn’t help but fall for Seokmin that day. He was like sun rays peeking through the blinds of windows. It was just unfortunate how you had met, seconds upon the decision of Vernon sparing you from death.

At least Vernon had the decency to not come across you again. Since the incident took place, you hardly come in close contact with him. And you hadn’t planned on encountering him again.

The world worked in funny ways when they assigned you with him again a month later, this time forcing you to give a historical presentation. The moment your names were called together, even amongst the student body, the temperature between you in Vernon ran cold. Apparently, your feud with Vernon preceded itself. They feared for their lives as they tore away from you, afraid to get caught in the heat of the fire.

You turn to Vernon, matching his indifferent expression, thinking what a cruel world it was to bring you back into the hands of your attempted murderer. You clenched your fist before forcing out an agreeable tone of voice. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

He remained silent, eyes away from you, avoidant.

“It’s only for two weeks. It’ll be fine.” You were unsure if you were saying this was to him or yourself.

He swallowed before he picked up his things and stood up from his desk. “Belle Library at 3:30. The faster we get it done, the sooner I don’t have to see your face.”

With that, he walks off, a lingering sting to your self-esteem.

Just the simple phrase from his mouth made your blood heat past the boiling point. Someone had never put you off to this extent. The strength it’ll take for you to get through this project would require more than patience. It would require compliance.

When the time arrived, he was there, seated at the table, waiting for your arrival. The next hour or two went smoother than you expected: mainly quiet besides the page flipping, the typing, and the occasionally exchanged muttering. Yet, you can see this would somehow work. You ignored the hardened gaze of his. It was like pins and needles all over your body. A prolonged sting took precedence on any of your other senses, but you’d just have to deal.

Without saying much, it felt like a quiet truce, just to get past this one assignment. For that, it would be fine.

For the next few days, you continued to meet with him to make progress. You didn’t hate him any less than you did some time ago, but he was tolerable enough that you didn't mind working with him. He did his parts as you did yours, having your collaborated presentation look rather, well, presentable. You could almost taste the end of the suffering. You couldn't help but give him a small smile seeing him work so diligently like it wasn’t him months ago drawing blood from your face.

“We’re almost done. Wow. And plenty of the time during the weekend,�� you said rather lightheartedly.

He surprised you by giving you a lazy nod, agreeable to your statement.

“We’re not such a bad team. Maybe after this, we can get lunch or something.”

That’s when Vernon halted his movements, hands hovering over his keyboard before looking back at you to find the cold steel reflecting in his eyes. He cocked his head, scoffing, a new–but familiar–emotion erupting on his face.

“I don’t think so, beastie.”

You were taken aback, blinking back at him in bemusement. “Excuse me?”

“Funny you had to ask,” he responded with a crooked smile. “You’re excused.”

You scoffed, gritting your teeth back at him before clicking your tongue on the roof of your mouth in a tsk. “What the hell is your problem?”

He rolled his eyes before gathering his things and stood up from the table. “We’ll pick things up from tomorrow when you can keep your ‘instincts’ under control. I need a break from you”

It took every atom in your body not to rip him from limb to limb from his foul words, mumbling under your breath curses of misfortune on him and his descendants. There was peace, even tranquility, and he had to go and mess that up. If there was a doubt in your head about how you felt about Vernon, it was clear now you could stand him and never will.

Though working through the weekend hadn’t been the plan, it’s what you ended up doing when he commanded you over messenger that there will still be work to do. God, was he the worst. You would object to his command if the project didn’t hold double digits in the percentage of your semester grade, so in the end, compliance had the best in you.

In attire not meant for regal activities or even lecture halls, you reunited with him in the same corner you both always occupied in your sweats and messy pulled-back hair. “Let’s get this over with.”

On the other hand, Vernon was effortlessly handsome in casual clothing, hair hidden underneath a beanie as he grunted back at you and you got back to work. The silence persisted, and you’re back to where you started: tolerating each other in hopes of an end.

The assignment took longer than usual today, seeing as there was a piece of information that was proven inaccurate and needed to be changed on every slide. You huffed on in frustration, parched, and took a long swig from your water bottle, his smug expression taunting you from across the table.

“Stupid…stupid…” You muttered to yourself for letting a mistake like that happened, knowing Vernon had only more murder fuel to hold against you.

“Glad you’re self-aware.”

You slammed the desk, unbothered by who would hear. It was empty anyway besides the librarian. No one would be here on a weekend you were.

“I am really sick and tired of your snarky attitude.”

He stood up, slamming back the same force into the desk, the toxicity in his eyes back wide and piercing. “Like you’re easy to work with? Hard to believe you can work a computer with your incompetence.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You imbecile.” You leaned forward to sink in his hair-raising glare, not backing down for once, and let the inner ‘beast’ you have trickled over the surface. “Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I deserve to be treated like shit. Mind you, I am a person.”

He leaned in closer, lips bitten red in frustration. “Hardly. Don’t think I don’t see you for the animal you are. You mindless, senseless, spawn of an abomination.”

Fury ran through your veins as you lunged at him, hands coming at him like you were rabid, feeling his strong arms come up beside you. He struggled under your weight, fighting back for a moment until gradually they gave up and let the length of your hand close around his neck. He stared back at you in anticipation, eyes flicking in a light that you had never seen before. One you couldn’t even identify if you tried. “Do it. Kill me. Like father, like offspring.”

Your teeth chattered as if you were freezing but you couldn’t be any more hot. You sucked a gasp of anguished, hatred being your lone source of fuel. Tears blurred your eyes in animosity before your grip tightened, seeing the life slowly escape his lungs as his lips quivered. His arms fell at their wingspan against his side, eyes closing in acceptance. He looked like he’s finally made peace, yet it couldn’t be under more violent circumstances. In a moment of clarity, you released your grasp, kicking him from the ground at his shin before pulling yourself up from the ground.

“Fuck you.” You spat and stormed off.

You’d swallow dragon scales before letting him win. You wouldn’t give the satisfaction of a justified ending where you’d end up the villain.

He was the villain. He’s always been the one antagonizing you and for a moment you gave in. You’d be taking lashes from the actual devil himself before letting that happen again.

You remembered how it felt with your hands around his throat, tightening every passing second. It was times like that, you feared who you were. How much of the ‘beast’ had you inherited. Besides hating him with all of your heart, your hand in ending someone’s life was terrifying but almost thrilling.

Whatever it was, you had to ignore it, and that meant ignoring Vernon. Every inch of his beauty was easily disposable under your touch. That was more power than you could handle. You were never one to play god, even as royalty.

Using your better judgment, you finished your half of the project alone, not bothering to keep your appointments with him and rather your grade to take a hit than spend another insufferable second with him. At the deadline, you presented together with an obvious distance apart, resulting in a good enough grade that maybe the time spent together had been worth it.

It was the end, finally an end.

“You tarnished my hard work with your petty feelings.”

You rolled your eyes back at him as he confronted you in an abandoned section of the department building, often only occupied with silence. “You brought on your feelings first. I wasn't going to let you push me around. You’re so set on the delusion that I’m the reason for everything wrong in your life.”

He mocked your statement with a humorless laugh. “It’s not for no reason. I despise you.”

“And why, when I don’t know you? I’ve hardly spoken to you, even with the project occurring, you just glare back at me like some angsty little teenager like you’re annoyed at the world. Like I’m the problem.”

“Oh, in every way, you are,” he said, “Had it not been for you, I could’ve lived a normal life.”

“And how is that my fault?”

He took a step forward. “You and your fucking family that’s plaster all over town, constantly reminding me of what you’ve done to my family.”

“Me?” You said with wide eyes, “Your father held my mother hostage and tried to kill my father.”

“You think I don’t know the type of man my father was? The lies he spewed, the women he slept with, the fantastical delusions he fed my mother when she gave herself to him. I’m not a fool, beastie, but you and your family let my mother a widow, abandoned to her thoughts, and helpless child.”

Your expression softened, his words cutting through deeper than any insult he’s ever thrown at you, leaving a wallowing angst in the pit of your stomach.

“I had to be the one to take care of her, not the other way around. You and your father, your mother, everyone around you that exposed my mother to the life she’s lived…at least if my father had been around, perhaps she wouldn’t have gone insane.”

Desperation choked in his throat, eyes glassy from tears you never knew he could make. Your throat felt dry, for once lacking a comeback to respond with. You were immersed in the pain in his voice, the urgency in his body language. It was everything opposite to the Vernon you hated. Why? Why now?

“I…had no control over that.” Now you were crying, feeling the tension melt involuntarily.

You felt him crumble in front of you, falling over his harsh sobs and he fell limp on your arms, tears staining your sweater. He squeezes your arm through the fabric, desperate to be holding on to something, “She died, because of you, fucks. She only wanted to be happy…but why couldn’t I be enough?”

You didn’t know how to handle an emotional man, let alone one that was out to get you, but you let your arms come around him in an embrace. You held tight around him as the tears poured out of him like a river, returning the warmth, and forgetting he was ever screaming at you in the first place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…you are enough Vernon. You are.” he gripped your harder, completely buried in your presence and lost in the breakdown.

You don’t remember how it ended, frankly, it was a blur. All you could remember was the heat of your sympathetic tears merging with the heat of his pained ones. Your embrace had not come close to anything you’ve once had, then again your relationship was anything but ordinary. By the time you went along with your normal day-to-day, the air had changed. Once charged with malice and disgust, now one with quiet and avoidant. Like you couldn’t bear to look at each other.

The image will forever be ingrained in your mind, as well as the weak ache in his voice as he tore himself to shreds.

Your family never thought to visit Gaston’s family after his passing. It was no use since they’d only seen the blind fury as Vernon did, as for this mother, however, she was a normal girl in love who had lost the man she was in love with while she carried his child. Of course, that had to be heartbreaking, even if it was Gaston. Vernon had every right to be angry, fuming, having never known his father, and now having lost his mother, he was simply on a warpath. You just happened to face his wrath.

Did it excuse any of his words or actions? No, but now you had answers.

No matter. That was a mere months ago and you’ve had no reason to have spoken to each other since. Your father would have words for something like this. Dwelling had no place in what you have in store.

Vernon would just have to be placed on the back burner of your mind.

As of now, there was one thing to look forward to, and that was the winter formal. As a Royal, the opportunities you had to look exceptionally presentable were in front of your Royal duties or facing the brittle bones of members of parliament. This time you were dressed your best for leisure. Excitement filled every orifice of your body seeing the typically ordinary halls of your college splay posters of the event. It wouldn’t be difficult to find a way to get there or find the perfect outfit, but now all you needed was a date.

Your eyes wandered off to Seokmin, his smile dazzling as always as he engaged with his classmates. You don’t think you were obvious about your infatuation until you let out a loud sigh, causing the giggles to the left of you from Chan. As expected for the child of Tinkerbell. Mischief followed everywhere he went.

“How unbecoming of someone in line for a throne.”

You lightly elbowed the demi-fairy, playful sneering at him, watching the tuffs of his bright blond bounce wistfully in the wind. “Quiet, pest. I’m finally in a good mood.”

He slouched against the bench, following your gaze chuckling. “Just ask him out. It’s the perfect time.”

You scoffed. “And make a fool of myself? Not interested.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to risk it either.”

“May I remind you of your legacy? He’d be blind to reject your advances, your highness,” he said light-heartedly using your title.

You were meant to be poised and regal but Seokmin made you feel like an average person falling for their school crush. The effect he had on you was some sort of phenomenon. You’re surrounded by attractive people every day yet he’s the one who currently carried a piece of your naive little heart that believed you could have a true fairytale ending.

Ultimately, you sighed, turning to your friend with a solemn glance before pulling yourself off from the bleachers. “Let's just get to class, Chan.”

Chan gave you an indecipherable look mixed with defeat but didn’t press on further, joining you in your next class.

It had come to a point that couples outnumbered singles, crowding the vast halls to the point of polite apologies when you needed to pass someone to get somewhere. Even Chan had managed to get a date and you weren’t even sure he was seeing anyone. You were feeling left out—wondering when it was your turn, or how undesirable you were to not have gotten asked yet—until you were halted at the steps of the hall. An array of students stood by either of your sides in an almost assembly line. Scattered flower petals led your path along with seashells of every shape and size and you couldn’t help but smile especially as you met the eyes of the person behind all of it.

Seokmin was down on one knee, a large bouquet of roses in his arms, and a big poster held up by a few fellow students behind him asking to escort you to the dance. You held your hands to your face, squealing like a child hearing good news, “Yes! I’d love to go with you, Seokmin!”

You hugged him, cheers and sounds of joy following and you were happy beyond belief in the warmth of his body. Everyone was happy for you both, already making jokes for him to prepare for his royal status because this formal dance had the tradition that the couples made from this event often stood the test of time.

Meanwhile, you felt a pair of not-so-celebratory eyes tracing over every step you took, an unbearable heat running through your body. You weren’t sure what to think of it. Ignoring him was your best option, but that was better said than done.

The closer you got to the event, those same eyes would flicker to your presence more often than not, especially as you’re joined at the hip with your formal date across the halls. Vernon’s eyes, previously malicious but empty, now seeped a silent fury that wished he could have the gall to give in to the pressures he placed in his head. That gaze burned in you, embedded in your day-to-day, when you should’ve thought of one and only one person that willingly acted on being by your side.

The thought of Vernon’s eyes on you eventually began to fade into oblivion, replaced with images of slow dancing with Seokmin. You’d be adorned in gold jewelry, long silk gloves, and attire that best fitted your status, leaving onlookers wanting more. The night would be magical, parading more than royalty, living a somewhat beautiful evening of normalcy and fulfillment. And if so be it, end up resulting in a break of your lifelong dry spell of relationships.

“Well, would you look at that? Seokmin will love it.”

Chan offered you a brotherly smile as you showed off what you had chosen to wear back in your closet. The twirl of your body dropped the fabric in mesmerizing magic. You could feel a mixture of pride and power in such a beautifully crafted vessel. Its body was heavy but you couldn’t feel any more light wearing it like the world was finally going to give you what you needed, whatever that may be. It would come with time. At this moment, you felt exactly where you needed to be.

You grinned back at the young fairy. “Thanks, Chan.”

The day finally would arrive. You saw Seokmin out by the steps of your residence and finally saw the pristine appearance of him in his suit, smiling brighter than the setting sun. His gaze softened at you in appreciation, his smile somehow growing only wider, and he walked over to you and took you in his hand. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, sending chills down your back, while a thank you is caught in your throat.

You’re nervous the whole ride there, bouncing your knee in anticipation as Seokmin occasionally turned away from the road to smile. Your nerves dissipate the moment you enter the event. The dance hall was beautiful, streaming lights from the ceiling to floor satin blue cloths on tables, and gorgeous centerpieces that did the prestigious university more than justice. You have seen much grander decorations in your experience but in this space with your peers whom you respected many of, it felt like the most beautiful place on planet Earth.

“This is amazing.” You said your eyes aglow.

The coolness of the air tingled up your arm but faded as you noticed everyone else’s event attire. Grinning ear to ear, you appreciate the craftsmanship of everyone’s distinction from one another, all incorporating pieces personal to themselves. Hearing the soft laugh of your date tore you away from your watch and you locked on to the warm creases of his eyes. He excused himself, offering to get you drinks, and you nodded before seeing him off in the direction of refreshments.

Your eyes returned to the floor plan before landing on the man you least expected to attend, prim and proper in a maroon-red suit perfectly tailored to him like a second skin. Vernon locked on you. The familiar look of hostility in his eyes along with something else unexplainable. It made the hairs of your neck stand and yet you couldn’t bear looking away.

You drew heat up your spine, breath stolen from your lips, and eyes quivered over his shape as you took in all of him. You knew all this time he was handsome, more than that, he looked eerily delectable, but you weren’t one to admit that. Not even yourself. Yet, something in the air, something mystical that drew you to him like a spell. A powerful, deeply conjured, mind-bending spell.

“Dewberry punch. Surprisingly delicious.”

Your gaze broke at Seokmin’s appearance, smiling at him as if you hadn’t just thought about someone else in his presence. “I bet.”

You accepted your drink, while Vernon still trickled in your head like simmering rain, pattering on your rooftop and leaking to your subconscious.

It stayed that way throughout the night, making you wonder how you could change your sentiment about him with a simple suit. With all the wardrobe changes in the world, it shouldn’t have changed anything, but perhaps it wasn’t just the suit. The last vulnerable moment you shared was something that crawled from the back of your mind, softening your heart and aching for the man in your thoughts. You had sympathy as you would for anyone in a hard situation. Vernon was no different from that. It’d make sense if you’d think of him.

You did mental gymnastics during your slow dance, smiling back at Seokmin amicably as your hand pressed lightly against the middle of your back. He hummed to the beat of the music, his natural radiance momentarily distracting you. “I mean it when I said you look beautiful because, wow, you really do. Can hardly believe you said yes to me.”

Something swelled up in your heart, heating your cheeks as your smile grew an inch. You pulled closer to him confidently, content to hear he shared a similar sentiment. You let your eyes naturally flutter back at him, a familiar sense of breathlessness stopping at your lungs.

“I’m really glad you asked me,” you said in a soft gasp.

You felt his fingers lock tighter through yours and your foreheads kiss in a split second. His light layer of cologne infiltrates your nose and tickles your insides. You felt the warmth of his breath, the moment approaching, and you anticipated it. The moment his perfect pair would find yours, time would stop, like the storybook fairytale ending his mom and your dad had.

Yet. You turned your head, burning in embarrassment from your last decision reflex. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Seokmin smiled disappointedly, reluctantly letting you go.

You took your time, lightly splashing water on your face. You took in your deep breaths. You physically shuddered to yourself. Something in the air that told you not enough. It should’ve been it, it’s all that your head said, but for some reason, your heart disagreed. What is wrong with you?

You shut your eyes tight, taking in more breaths—only getting shallower—before exhaling. By the time your heart settled down, you exited the restroom, painting a courteous smile, inching closer and closer to Seokmin who now seems to be preoccupied with the company of his friends.

Their voices only got louder the closer your feet cut through the distance, words getting clearer until you're riddled with confusion, drinking in every mutter like hot gossip.

“They were easy,” Seokmin bragged uncharacteristically.

Easy.

“They’re really into you, huh? Looks like you’ll get to replenish your fortune after all.”

Seokmin’s smile was familiar, yet an inkling of something sinister peaks through the last second as he fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. “Becoming a Royal is going to be so much easier than I thought. Luckily, the beast’s kid is so desperate for attention. Who knows, maybe they’ll prove themselves in bed how much they’re willing to do for it.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, and you blinked them away, furious for not seeing the truth sooner. Your blood boiled. You were about to approach him when someone was one step ahead of you. In a flash, Vernon was pinning Seokmin by the neck. Seokmin, fear in his eyes, choked through his threats, hands over Vernon’s in an attempt to pull him off. “What the hell? Get off me!”

“Take it back,” Vernon growled.

A sum of the initial shock dissipates in Seokmin’s eyes, a smile erupting on his face, one that suggests anything but civil reconciliation. “What…oh, about Y/n? Why? Pretty boy got their eyes set on them?”

Vernon slammed him back on the wall, gripping tighter. “You get anywhere near them, I’ll kill you.”

“Vernon stop!” You shouted. “You’ll actually kill him!”

In a lingering silence, Vernon persists on Seokmin’s neck, fuming, seeing the taunt in Seokmin’s eyes. “You heard them. Let me go. Don’t think for a second you’re worth an ounce of their attention.”

“Like you are?” Vernon said, gritting his teeth.

“Vernon, please!” You pleaded.

Vernon pulled off of Seokmin, shoving him to the ground, before storming away. A look from him to you as he exits.

You approached him, finally seeing how pathetic he looks.

“Y/n, can you believe that guy?” He stretched his hands out to you, “Help me out here, beautiful.”

Your footsteps are heavy approaching him. Arms crossed, your scowl presented itself. “I heard everything, you jerk. I have half a mind to let him finish the job.”

He blinked back in disbelief, feigning innocence, “Y/n how could you say that—this is all just a misunderstanding—“

“Shut up and never talk to me again or I’ll finish what he started.” You took off from the scene, leaving Seokmin on the ground.

Your feet took you out of the building and on a search. Vernon couldn’t have left far behind. Gathering the material of your clothes in your fists, you find him within minutes. “Vernon! Come back here!”

“Get lost, beastie. I don’t have the energy for you.”

You scrunched your face up in frustration but persisted, trailing him heatedly. “You are going to explain what the hell just happened. I don’t know how many glasses of champagne you had, but no matter the amount does not warrant the near bloodshed in that ballroom. Or are you that stupid?”

“Leave me the fuck alone or I’ll make sure there’s bloodshed.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble. Your temper is actually insane how in the hell—“

One second, you're going at him for doing something so reckless due to his unbridled lack of control, next he’s seething at you as he’s pinned you to the rough surface of an oak tree in the middle of school grounds. His eyes lit like wildfire, burning your skin from the little distance between you both.

“I warned you. You should’ve listened.”

You gasped seeing those honey eyes, like molten gold, you were entranced by their naked beauty seeing how they started to slowly soften beneath your gaze. “You…defended me. You almost killed someone…for me…”

Despite his warnings, you held no fear, and at this moment you felt perplexed by how alluring a mere human could be. Your heart rattled like it demanded escape and you can hear his heart do the same. It helped to have super hearing. You swallowed, eyes falling to his lips before, watching them tremble before you crushed them to yours.

Stunned, you felt him succumb to the desire you sense you both had, feeling his hand crawl up to your frilled side. However, half a second too late, he’s shoving you aside, covering his lips in wide-eyed shock. You stood back with your own look of shock, internally asking yourself if that really all happened. Not even a chance to apologize, Vernon took several steps back. “Never do that again. I swear to god, or I’ll regret it.”

He disappeared through the dark fog the air cast, leaving you alone in your thoughts. One thing stayed with you in that experience though. He said ‘I’ll regret it’ not ‘you’ll regret it.’ What exactly would he regret about it?

When classes start back up again, the atmosphere is anything but what it used to be. Despite your background, you lived a vaguely calm day to day but nowadays you can’t walk the halls without being stared at. You knew why, but you weren’t going to let them get to you. You were going to give yourself that space.

You let Chan know your lunches would be by yourself for a while until the noise would die down, and although he was disappointed, he couldn’t have been too disappointed with him and his formal date that has recently gone official. You were happy to know he wouldn’t be alone in your time of self-care.

The rooftop was known to be empty at almost all times. You knew this from coming time to time, especially in your freshman year when in the midst of the blithering heat of summer. Frankly, it didn’t bother you as much and apparently still hadn’t as you walked up the flight of stairs leading up and out the doors of that very rooftop.

Clutching a lunch box too big for a normal human, you stared back into the eyes he was scarfing down his meal like he was starving and alone. Vernon’s eyes grew twice their size as a limp noodle hung from his mouth before slurping it back up from his sauce-stained lips. “What ar—why are you here?”

You gestured to food, butting back the bit of shock that he was actually here in front of you. “Lunch.”

“Yeah, why aren’t you eating in the cafeteria? Off-campus? Why here?” He badgered.

You scoffed. “You don’t own the rooftop, Vernon.”

“Well, I don’t like you here. leave.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Are you really gonna be so difficult?”

“How am I being difficult? I’ll just sit here away from you eating my lunch, just… Ignore me.”

He scoffed. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

You occupied a space from the ground and made yourself at home, sitting criss-cross on the ground. Vernon stayed where he was found and continued his lunch. Neither of you talked the rest of the time there and when the moment it was time to go back to your individual classes. It would be done separately, but that would continue for weeks at a time, almost seeing each other every day around the same time for lunch. If you came to a point that neither of you minded the other's presence given that it was so normal to see each other in the same place.

Now you would quietly acknowledge each other while simultaneously trying to ignore each other’s presence, but within due time, the air between you two would leave a lingering charge, likely still thinking about what happened the night of the formal. The moment of weakness.

“I never thanked you.”

Vernon raised his brow, forking through his food.“Thanked me for what?”

“You may have almost killed Seokmin but you defended me.”

He rolled his eyes simultaneously letting out a sigh. “Don’t bring up that shit again.”

“But you did, and why… You hate me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he answered, uncertainty in his tone, “Maybe I don’t know. He just pissed me off.”

You smiled to yourself, finishing up the last of the entree. “I was there to hear everything and even I didn’t know what I’d do, so, thank you.”

“Whatever.”

The silence made its return but you continue to see each other more and more. Word has gone down about the entire event and you had become old news, but you never changed your routine. These days you were starting to enjoy Vernon’s company and perhaps he was enjoying yours. He stopped complaining about your loud chewing and started accepting some of your food exchanges, but besides that, you remain civil. You hadn't talked about the kiss you shared, and perhaps it was best that way. At least that’s what you kept saying to yourself even though it’s all you’ve thought in his presence.

You were forcing yourself to get over it. You had finally come to a place you and Vernon could stand in the same place without killing one another, maybe you even grew a friend out of him. In any case, you were better off, not knowing what he meant when he kissed you back or what he meant by saying he’d regret it. It would be fine. Given your family’s history, it’s likely they would never be what you dreamt it would be.

Fingering threw your bags for your dorm keys. You are getting closer and closer to the steps to home. You clutch around the metal, lacing a digit through your key ring, and claiming your key before a hand comes around your wrist. You turn to see your perpetrator, manic, eyes stare back at you and a smile, that you once found warm and familiar, turned dark and sadistic. His once honey voice that you dreamt of, and could soothe you to sleep now, spoke a terrifying timber, towering over you, seething back at your fearful stance.

“Y/n, talk to me please talk to me.”

You tugged from his grip. “Seokmin what are you doing here? Leave me the fuck alone.”

“How are you? I’ve missed you.” Honey laced his tongue, but known him it was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, deceitful.

“Seokmin let go of me.”

“No,” he shouted, “not until everything is right with us again.”

You shot your eyes back at him, “Are you fucking insane? Get away from me, you lunatic.”

His fingers wrapped tighter around you, bringing you close and personal to see the red in his eyes. “You were mine, Y/n who cares what happened that night. All I know is that I want you and I know you want me too.”

“Seokmin please, I’m begging you, you’re hurting me.”

In your desperate pleas, he doesn’t listen. You felt trapped, buried under the heavy weight of his words, how inhuman he looks,, and you feel terrified for your life. You tried wrenching out of his touch, screaming for an escape, wishing upon any unseen star in the afternoon sky that this moment would end. As if your prayers were answered a body comes in and slams Seokmin onto the ground. You see their feet kick back at him, fury in their eyes screaming back at the man.

“Get the fuck out of here before I promise to kill you and I don’t fucking break my promises.”

Seokmin is almost tempted to challenge him, but he ends up escaping, leaving you both behind.

Here Vernon was again, somehow saving you just as you have begun to accept your platonic nature, and you can’t help but look at him with eyes of want, desire, and need. You’ll never begin to understand the pull you had towards this impossibly destructive man but you were beginning to understand that there would never be an end between you two. In turn a new fear, now you would be worrying about days without him.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, washed over with concern.

“I’m not but,” you look over him, locked on him, even noticing the sweat falling from his brow, “You really have no self-control do you?”

He dropped his warm expression“Are you really telling that to me, someone that just saved you from potential assault?”

“You keep hurting me, you keep saving me, pick a side. What is it about me, Vernon? Why? Why are you here when I always least expect you to be?” You asked in almost frustration.

“As if I know. you’re the beast’s kid. How can you be so fucking helpless that you need my saving?”

You don’t bother to answer, as if the answer were all in the eyes looking back at you. Gathering all your courage, your lips found their way back to his, the salt of your tears sweeping over his lips. You whimpered in ache, clutching the front of his shirt. You pulled him towards you and this time, he didn't let go.

You made your way back to your place, clothes thrown astray on the ground. You were skin to skin, lips to lips, body to body. It all felt so fast, so rash, but your mind couldn’t think of anything else. All there was the hot of the fire between your legs and Vernon, perfect gorgeous Vernon.

“Vernon…”

He exhaled a shallow breath before roughly tugging you to the arm of your couch, placing you against it like it’s your pedestal. His hand against the small of your back, steadied you as his lips made their way down to your chin, neck, and collar. His eager fingers found your stiff peaks in a matter of milliseconds before he prodded at them, rolling them between the pads of his fingers.

“You won’t regret it,” You asked, “having sex with me?”

“Will you?” he responded, teeth grazing your stiff sensitivity as it got harder against his tongue.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Good. Then neither will I.”

He fell to his knees the moment he found a place between your thighs. The heat of his lips ghosts over your inner thighs, tongue licking over the fabric of your inner garment, before closing it around his lips, sucking the arousal soaking through it. You clutched the leather of your seat, moisture forming in your mouth, “Oh god.” His tongue finds the divide of core, moaning sweetly as hr anxiously fed. Your legs settled on either of his shoulders, knee brushing tenderly over his cheek.

Finally, pushing the garment aside, he feasted on your raw heat, moving his tongue in ravenous speed, having you spew out sighs of contentment. You blistered in goosebumps, licking your lips, your whines became a soothing symphony, and Vernon’s tongue became the award-winning solo. Soon, they’d melt in bursts of ache, clenching the perimeters to his face.

“Your tongue, Vernon, shit…”

His hands stroked up your side, tongue flicking back at your clit, before his mouth sucks on the entrance, kissing it like he’s met his estranged lover. You couldn’t ignore his eyes, honey ebbing with lust, long lashes framing his view like he was a goddamn dream. You laced through his hair when you felt the presence of his fingers in you and you tugged, a sinful mumble leaves his lips.

“Harder.”

You thought you might’ve been hearing things, and you croaked out a, “What?”

“Please pull harder,” Vernon repeated in groans. “Mommy…”

You blinked back down at him in fascination. “Mommy?”

His eyes creased together in an impossibly endearing way, looking malleable and edible, his gentle hands caressed your thighs in worship, “Yes Mommy…please…”

“…Okay, I can do that.”

You did as he requested and his voice resonated as a reward. Your fingers dig deeper in his hair and found out how easily Vernon complies with a bit of encouragement. His fingers plugged your entrance, removing and reappearing, at a skilled pace. You enjoyed him, louder moans bouncing off the walls of your manor as your body shook against him, surely coming apart for in a matter of minutes how he was going. Bucking your hips you hissed as a sliver of your climax, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please do it, Mommy, I want to taste you…”

You called out to him in pure anguish, his mouth pressed into you, catching every drip, completely defiling his mouth. Finished, you pulled him by the hair to meet his lips. You fisted through his hair, locking his body between your legs as your release is addictingly sweet on his tongue. “So you want me to be your…mommy?”

“Yes,” Vernon slowly answered with a hint of hesitancy, “does that bother you?”

“N-no, just not used to it, but I like it,” your draped your arms over his shoulders, “as long as you like it. You can call me whatever you want. I’ll be your mommy.”

You dragged him from his hair, ensuring he was willingly compliant, and had him land on the thick cushion of the couch. You sat next to his side, sucking on his tongue coated in your climax before you crept your hand at his briefs. Your hands slipped out his cock and wrapped its stiff stature with your fingers. Traveling his precum to his shaft, your digits trace over his veins through the slick. You placed pressure around his girth—his moans sweet but full of sin—and you smiled against his lips in interest.

“You like that?” You teased, “You like how mommy’s touching you?”

“Yes, Mommy.” He trembled.

“Should mommy help you cum?”

He nodded, chest noticeably heaving up and down. “I want whatever mommy wants.”

Your gaze dipped at his cock, delectable and only growing bigger in his hands “I want you to cum on mommy’s fingers.”

He nodded again, now more gingerly, “Yes, Mommy, thank you, Mommy.”

You stroked with a gentle touch initially, working your way up his length, and allowed him to speak to find a pressure he preferred. You liked how he reacted to you, almost buzzing in arousal. He emitted subtle desperation, patient to your control, and only allowed himself to move as you asked. His hands stayed by his side, nails digging into the leather of the couch. Your free hand parted his messy hair, exposing his forehead, and you took the ball of your hand over his flushed cheek. You admired him close in stark contrast to the hand ruining him.

He mouth opened to pant, “So good…that’s so good…thank you…”

You bit your lip, an idea suddenly popping into your head. “Can I spit in your mouth, baby?”

As if he couldn’t get redder, he glows up like a bright neon sign, almost blaring that he was in fact open. “Yes, Mommy, spit in my mouth please.”

You tilted his head upward by his chin. Your thumb helped in parting his lips before a string of translucent liquid fell from your tongue to his picture perfectly. “Slurp it for me baby, take my spit.”

He collected the remains from your tongue, needy wet sounds loud for show, and he visibly swallowed for you to see. “Thank you…”

“No, thank you.”

Your lips found home against each other and your hand tugged around his cock tighter, faster. His whimpers are muffled between your lips, and his hips instinctively bounce, thrusting back into your touch. You didn’t need to pleasure yourself to get off, already high on his pretty little voice desperate for release. “Such a good boy for me. You gonna come for me?”

“Yes Mommy, I’m gonna cum…just like that touch me just like that.” You followed the direction of his voice before you found the buckle of his hips, finally, it dispersed in the air and hit his chest. his lips.

“That good?” You hummed, and he nodded back, inching closer to you, inaudibly asking for more.

You did as he requested, drawing them only when you hear his gags and his salvia is the only thing that keeps you connected. Nothing could replace the look of listlessness mixed with pleasure on his face, it was pure bliss.

“Sit still for Mommy.”

You let your underwear fall to the ground and do the same to him before coming up and straddling his lap. Your lips are again one, crushing in harsh friction as you were rubbing his still hard cock between your bodies, not caring about the mess. Your slick moisture slathers up your bodies in the process while you’re grinding in his lap. Ribbons, thick of ivory releases, adorn his toned torso like celebratory streamers.

You collected it from your fingers and had a taste, dragging the nectar over your tastebuds. “So sweet…”

He eyed your fingers, blinking back in temptation as he licked his lips. There’s no need to ask as you gathered the remaining from his body and gently placed it in his mouth. He ate his cum with pride, sucking them off clear from your finger until your knuckles practically vanished from

“Should mommy help you cum so more?” You tempted, “That way you can cum in Mommy?”

A glint of excitement flashed before replacing it with concern. “B-but a condom?”

You shrugged, leaning in closer, “I trust you’ve been good, have you?” Have you been safe?

“Yes, Mommy.”

You tangled your fingers through his hair, soften with his sweat, “Then it's no problem.”

You slipped him inside you feeling him stretch your insides. Your lips pressed together, processing the sensation, which followed a loud satisfied moan. “Such a good boy, so big for mommy.”

At the same time, Vernon groaned, hands settling on your hips, “Mommy’s so…perfect, so warm.”

You used him like a toy, lifting your body to bounce in his lap. You pulled at his lips with your teeth, tuned in to the whimpers he makes when let go. His cock moved in at in achingly slow rhythm, teasing him with your walls, seeing hope fade from his eyes every time you do. Holds your tighter, determined for more, but does not overstep his role. “Mommy…”

“Is my baby being needy?”

“Please let me cum—mmh, ah,” your fingers found his nipples, twisting them, “Please, Mommy.”

“Are you going to clean up the mess?”

“Yes Mommy, I always clean my messes.”

“Fine, I’ll let you cum,” your hand came around the sides of his neck before tightening, the startle look in his eyes melting in euphoria as you felt his adam's apple shift as he swallowed, “but we’re both going to cum. And you, are going to cum a huge load in me. Are you gonna do that for Mommy?”

He nodded, no sign of diminishing obedience. “Yes, mommy, everything.”

You put in more effort this round, pounding and grinding over his thighs, the sounds of your skin coming against each other having you reeling in every way.. His cock fucked back into you but if anything, it felt like you were the one fucking him. You pushed him harder against the couch, leaving his head over the end of the couch. “Gonna cum for mommy, hmm? Gonna pour your big load into me?”

“So good Mommy…more…let me cum please…I’ll pour it all into you.”

You took top speed, fucking until you couldn’t anymore, as your climax reappeared, bucking your hips against him. Vernon shit his eyes as he was close too, and in a second you felt a flood of warmth fill you to the brim, coating your insides in his hot, sweet nectar. His thrusts come apart in the air like his moans, in a staccato rhythm, he fits his cock deeply surrounded in your release before dropping his head back to catch his breath. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling, and feeling soft caresses take up your back misted with sweat.

“That…um,” you chuckled nervously to yourself, the illusion of power dissipated.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His voice oozed something that kept you warm and gooey, resembling sincere gratitude and appreciation.

For the first time in what felt like forever, your cheeks are now finally the ones to heat up. You stared back at Vernon’s glassy gaze, a smile so foreign yet dreamlike, you almost forget it wasn’t one of the many images you imagined in your head. He was actually staring back at you with the same desire you had grown to have for him.

“I never got to apologize,” he added, lids heavy with fatigue, “kind of feels late for that, but I’m sorry.”

“Well it’s kind of late to say I forgive you, but I do.”

You didn’t need to say what it was for you to understand what the apology was about, neither of you did. You simply just kissed, kissed him as if you’d die without him. You’d kiss him until your lips would glue shut together from a natural glue. You’d kiss him if it’s the last day of the world. You’d just kiss him.

After some cleansing, you joined naked in the bed, just back in each other's presence. With your head on his arm and his other arm around you, you laid next to each other like newlyweds, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m sorry, about your family I mean,” you couldn’t help but follow up.

He shook his head defiantly, “Don’t be, honestly, I was being…awful, jumping to conclusions. Funny enough, a lot like my dad.”

You sensed the bitterness in his voice, “But my family held power. I could’ve—we could’ve. There was so much we could’ve done to help your upbringing.”

“That is not your responsibility,” he replied pushing away a loose strand of hair from your face, “I’m finally accepting that right now she’s in a good place. I don’t have to worry about her. What’s done is done.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” You asked dubiously, just wanting assurance.

“For once…I am. Finally, I am.” He kissed your lips, holding on to your close embrace. “Her passing pushed me to do better for myself—even if it wasn’t for the best intentions—it got me through school, and gave me an in with the happily ever after program. Now I can have my happily ever after. Took me this long but you helped me realize it.”

You matched his smile. “I’m happy for you.” You petted the top of his head, hearing him chuckle.

“There’s a lot I need to make up for, even if we’re ‘even’.”

You hummed cheekily in agreement, “Certainly, we can find something.”

He playfully shrugged, gathering your hint. “Just tell me what it is, I’ll be there. Even if I have to get on my knees.”

#svthub #vernon smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #vernon #vernon chwe #vernon chwe smut #chwe hansol smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen vernon #hansol smut #hansol vernon chwe #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon x reader #seventeen han

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Magneto: A Biographical Timeline, 1963-1991

Magneto just might be one of the most iconic comic book antagonists of all time. He was created in 1963 by Stan Lee and started out as the X-Men’s deadliest foe. Not much is revealed about Magneto through the 60’s but when author Chris Claremont takes over writing the X-Men starting in 1975 he began to develop the character and give him a complex backstory. Magneto quickly started his journey to being a hero and by the 80’s he was no longer a foe of the X-Men, but an ally, and eventually the leader of the Xavier Institute. After corporate meddling forced Magneto back into an antagonistic role in the 90’s, Magneto was eventually killed off and Claremont was fired. This was the end of a cohesive story and trajectory for the character.

Magneto’s backstory has become murky in the years since. The wiki pages (both fan wikis and wikipedia) often take the angle of attempting to synthesize everything ever said about the character into one cohesive story. That, of course, isn’t very helpful when there’s been sixty years of contradictory information and continual reboots – both hard and soft – of the character, his relationships and his backstory. Even his name has come to be muddled with every few years someone deciding to give him a new one. Below, I’ve compiled a list of all the relevant biographical details as they appeared in print from 1963 – 1991. This is a comprehensive overview of the character during his most iconic storylines, many of which have gone on to be adapted to both television and film.

I have included links to relevant historical information at various points as well as to an excellent 2018 documentary, available on YouTube so be sure to check that out as well.

1963

September

X-Men #1 published

1964

March

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #4 “The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants” by Stan Lee

Wanda and Pietro are introduced with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. They are introduced as brother and sister, no last names are given.

Wanda owes Magneto a life debt because he prevented villagers in the heart of Europe from burning Wanda as a witch. Wanda and Pietro aren’t happy about being in the Brotherhood.

Magneto is described as tall.

1965

May

Avengers (1963) #16 “The Old Order Changeth!” by Stan Lee

Wanda and Pietro join the Avengers.

Wanda mentions that Pietro is older than her.

Wanda is described as “black-haired” (though in many later appearances she is most often drawn with brown or red hair)

1968

November

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #50 “Hail, Queen of Mutants” by Arnold Drake

Mesmero claims the Polaris (Lorna Dane) is Magneto’s daughter and attempts to brainwash her to join Magneto.

1969

January

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #52 “Twilight of the Mutants” by Arnold Drake

Iceman (Bobby Drake) reveals to Polaris that Magneto is not her father and is “conning” her.

July

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #58 “Mission Murder” by Roy Thomas

The Magneto who appeared in issues #49-52 is revealed to have been a robot all along and Magneto is unconnected to the plot of the robot Magneto.

December 1970 – June 1975

No new books are written for X-Men and the title exists solely as reprints of earlier issues. In effect, the book is dead.

1974

October

Defenders (1972) #16 “Alpha, the Ultimate Mutant” by Len Wein

Magneto is turned into a baby by the mutant Alpha.

1975

August

Chris Claremont begins writing for the Uncanny X-Men starting with issue #94.

1977

April

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #104 “The Gentleman’s Name is Magneto” by Chris Claremont

Magneto is returned to adulthood by Eric the Red.

November

The Champions (1975) #16 “A World Lost!” by Bill Mantlo

Magneto works with Beast (Hank McCoy) to free the former X-Men team from Doctor Doom’s mind control. (I believe this marks the beginning of Magneto’s turn to being a hero)

1978

May

Marvel Team-Up (1972) #69 Featuring Spider-Man and Havok “Night of the Living God” by Chris Claremont

Polaris reiterates that she is not Magneto’s daughter.

August

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #112 “Magneto Triumphant” by Chris Claremont

Magneto reiterates that he never worked with Mesmero and the being who claimed to be Polaris’ father was a robot.

September

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #113 “Showdown!” by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

Magneto’s Antarctic base is destroyed and with it the “work and memories of a lifetime.”

Magneto is sad to have the X-Men destroy everything but steels himself with the thought “I am alive.”

1979

August

Avengers (1963) #186 “Nights of Wundagore!” by Steven Grant, Mark Gruenwald and David Michelinie

Wanda and Pietro return to Transia looking for information about their past.

Transia is a German-speaking nation.

Their mother is revealed to be Magda, no last name is given for her.

Magda left her husband because she feared his powers and desire to rule the world. (This story will change somewhat as the idea is developed)

Magda ran away from Transia after giving birth.

The narrative implies she went into the wilderness to die.

Wanda and Pietro were then given to Django Maximoff and his wife to raise.

September

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #125 “There’s Something Awful on Muir Island” by Chris Claremont

Magneto runs across an image of Magda on a memory tape and reminisces about his late wife thinking “Magda… my late wife. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you were… How deeply it hurt when you ran away from me.”

This reveals him to the reader as the father of Wanda and Pietro.

1980

October

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #138 “Elegy” by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

Polaris is once again mentioned as not being the daughter of Magneto.

1981

January

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #141 “Days of Future Past” by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

In a far distant possible future Magneto is revealed to be working with the X-Men after mutants face genocide and persecution.

Magneto’s name is revealed to be Magnus for the first time, no last name is given.

August

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #148 “Cry, Mutant!” by Chris Claremont

Magneto meets Cyclops’ (Scott Summers) girlfriend, Aleytys “Lee” Forrester, for the first time on his island base in the Bermuda Triangle.

September

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #149 “And the Dead Shall Bury the Living” by Chris Claremont

Charles Xavier reveals that Magneto is “Caucasian, probably Nordic.”

Charles reflects that Magneto was “the first ‘evil’ mutant the X-Men fought.” (The use of quotes around the word evil is intentional to suggest that Magneto is not really evil)

Charles thinks that “Magneto and I are uncomfortably alike.”

October

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #150 “I, Magneto” by Chris Claremont

Magneto learns of Jean Grey’s death and says that he grieves for her. He states “I know… something of grief. Search throughout my homeland, you will find none who bear my name. Mine was a large family, and it was slaughtered.”

Magneto speaks to the crew of the Soviet submarine Leningrad in Russian.

Magneto keeps his computer programming book written in a language neither Kitty nor Storm (Ororo Munroe) can read.

Later, after a fateful confrontation with the X-Men, Magneto thinks he’s killed Kitty Pryde. He is gripped with remorse saying “What have I done?!” and “Why did you not understand? Magda – my beloved wife – did not understand. When she saw me use my powers, she ran from me in terror. It did not matter that I was defending her… that I was avenging our murdered daughter. I swore then that I would not rest ‘til I had created a world where my kind – mutants – could live free and safe and unafraid. Where such as you, little one could be happy. Instead I have slain you. I remember my own childhood – the gas chambers as Auschwitz, the guards joking as they herded my family to their death. As our lives were nothing to them, so human lives became nothing to me.” (This is the first time Anya is mentioned even if she is not yet named, as well as the first time that Magneto is mentioned to be a Holocaust and Auschwitz survivor.)

Storm tells Magneto to pray to his deity as she intends to kill him for hurting Kitty. Magneto replies “As a boy, I believed. As a boy, I turned my back on God forever.”

When Storm suggests that his good dreams have been corrupted, Magneto insists that he is too old to change and has lived with his hatred too long.

Afterward, Charles offers that Magneto “Will emerge from this crucible the good man he once was and may yet be again.”

1982

September

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #161 “Gold Rush” by Chris Claremont

The narrative tells us the following took place twenty years ago placing these events around 1962.

Charles recalls meeting Magneto long ago in Israel when he went there to help treat Holocaust survivors.

Magneto is a volunteer at the hospital where Charles is working.

Magneto is introduced as Magnus, no last name is given.

Magneto reveals that he grew up in Auschwitz and states that “I have no family, Dr. Xavier. Anymore.”

The Auschwitz prisoner number tattooed on Magneto’s arm is revealed to be 214782.

The doctor Charles is working with says most of the volunteers were concentration camp survivors who “bring a degree of empathy to their work that the rest of us can’t match.”

Charles and Magneto grow close during their time together despite different views on the future of humans and mutants.

They also become close with Charles’ patient, Gaby Haller who is suffering severe psychic trauma from her experiences during the Holocaust.

Charles eventually comes to realize that “in many ways, Magnus has been as deeply scarred by his experiences as Gaby.”

Charles and Gaby start dating.

Eventually Charles and Magneto reveal to each other that they are mutants.

Charles and Magneto go to Kenya to rescue Gaby, who has been kidnapped by Hydra.

Magneto tells the Hydra leader, Baron Strucker, “You will find me considerably harder to slay than your countrymen did my family at Auschwitz.” and “Unfortunately, my power did not manifest itself ‘til I reached adulthood. By then the war was over. But had I possessed it in the camps, butcher, the tyranny of your Third Reich would have been ended overnight!”

They rescue Gaby and part ways still ultimately disagreeing about means and ends because of the violent methods Magneto used against Hydra.

Magneto flies off with an enormous stash of Nazi gold plundered from Hydra.

Until he disguises himself as Hydra, Magneto only wears white throughout the issue.

December

Marvel Graphic Novel #5 “X-Men: God Loves, Man Kills” by Chris Claremont

(This story is a stand-alone story, it doesn’t really get mentioned in the regular Uncanny X-Men timeline or referenced anywhere else, unlike the Dazzler graphic novel published in the same line. That does not necessarily mean it is out of continuity, just that it doesn’t ever get called back to during Claremont’s further writing.)

Magneto joins forces with the X-Men to save Charles from Reverend Stryker and prevent his anti-mutant genocide. He tells Cyclops “I am not your enemy, X-Men, nor do I consider you mine.”

Cyclops presses Magneto about his plan to become world dictator and Magneto replies “I have lived under a dictatorship… and seen my family butchered by its servants. When I rule, it will be for the betterment of all.” Cyclops asks who takes over after Magneto dies, Magneto responds “You, of course, Cyclops. And the X-Men. Why do you think I want you by my side?”

Charles refers to Magneto as Magnus.

Magneto asks Charles to join him and his cause after they defeat Stryker, and though tempted, Charles ultimately refuses holding on to his dream of human/mutant integration.

Magneto parts ways with the X-Men despite them asking him to stay.

1983

February

Vision and the Scarlet Witch (1982) #4 “Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself…!” by Bill Mantlo

Magneto discovers what happened to Magda after she left him and finds out that he is Wanda and Pietro’s father.

Magda’s fate is more vague in this telling, saying only that she “fled into the night” without the implication that Magda wanted to die.

Magneto reveals this information to Wanda and Pietro. He meets Pietro’s daughter, his granddaughter, Luna.

Magneto asks Pietro and Wanda to accept him into their lives.

1984

May

Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars (1984) #1 “The War Begins” by Jim Shooter

(Though the Secret Wars story line continues to be published after this date, the event ends and the regular in-universe timeline resumes with Uncanny X-Men #181 published in May 1984.)

When the Beyonder transports heroes and villains to a far away planet to fight each other, Magneto is placed among the heroes.

The other non-mutant heroes are leery of Magneto so Magneto decides to leave and solve their predicament by himself.

July

Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars (1984) #3 “Tempest Without, Crisis Within!” by Jim Shooter

Magneto captures Wasp (Janet Van Dyne) and brings her to his headquarters in hopes of convincing her to join forces with him

Wasp, addresses Magneto as Magnus.

Magneto and Wasp have sex.

August

Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars (1984) #4 “Situation: Hopeless” by Jim Shooter

The X-Men leave the other heroes and join Magneto to try and end the situation they were brought into.

November

The New Mutants (1983) #21 “Slumber Party!” by Chris Claremont

When Warlock falls from space he crashes into Asteroid M. Magneto attempts to create a force field to protect Asteroid M but is unable to do so. Asteroid M is destroyed and Magneto is apparently knocked to Earth from space.

December

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #188 “Legacy of the Lost” by Chris Claremont

Lee Forrester finds Magneto injured and floating in the water near the center of the Bermuda Triangle. She fights off a shark and brings him aboard her boat.

1985

January

New Mutants (1983) #23 “Shadowman” by Chris Claremont

Magneto insists on leaving the hospital and going back to his island base in the Bermuda Triangle.

Lee and Magneto journey there alone on Lee’s boat.

Magneto is seasick the entire way there.

On the island Lee challenges Magneto on his anti-human stances.

February

New Mutants (1983) #24 “Hollow Heart” by Chris Claremont

Magneto apologizes to Lee for being rude to her and compliments her appearance.

Lee begins to see Magneto in a new light.

Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars (1984) #10 “Death to the Beyonder!” by Jim Shooter

Magneto is tempted to join forces with Doctor Doom, who the narrative implies is using some sort of power to sway Magneto to his side. Magneto “Reaches out to grasp Doom’s spectral hand – but then, he hesitates. His eyes find Xavier’s, and for an endless split-second, he trembles on the brink…”

April

New Mutants (1983) #26 “Legion” by Chris Claremont

Lee is awakened by Magneto having a bad dream, he is making noise and screaming.

Magneto is using his powers in his sleep and speaking in a language Lee doesn’t know.

She wakes Magneto before he causes himself harm and he is grateful to her for saving his life.

Magneto tells Lee that he was dreaming of “a time and place I thought forever… buried.” Lee says she’s never heard such desolation in his voice. Magneto replies “Death. Resurrection. I’d have died tonight, I think, if not for you. Twice now, I owe you my life.”

Magneto and Lee have sex.

Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars (1984) #12 “...Nothing to Fear...” by Jim Shooter

It is reveled that the Beyonder placed Magneto in the hero team because “His desires seemed like theirs.”

June

New Mutants (1983) #28 “Soulwar” by Chris Claremont

Lee has second thoughts about Magneto the morning after.

Magneto brings her breakfast the next morning, complete with a rose.

Magneto uses his powers to prevent Lee from leaving their conversation and this frightens her.

Magneto pleads with her to give him a chance. He tells Lee how Magda left him after learning he was a mutant. “My wife, Magda, had such a look on her face – I had saved us both from a marauding patrol of secret police, yet all she saw was that I had used super-powers to do it. In that moment, I became different – our love meant nothing. I was no longer human. I was a mutant, a thing. She ran from me, in terror. I never saw her again. Never knew – until much later, far too late – that she had borne my children. Don’t – please Lee, don’t you run from me, too. I cannot bear to be alone and I am sick at heart at the realization of what I have become. Help me, Lee, I… beg you. I need you.” (In this telling there is no mention of Anya, only a reference to the twins – Wanda and Pietro)

Lee refuses Magneto leaving him brokenhearted.

July

New Mutants (1983) #29 “Meanwhile, Back at the Mansion” by Chris Claremont

Lee has time to reflect and realizes she does have feelings for Magneto. She confesses her feelings for him and they reconcile.

Magneto apologizes for using his powers in a high-handed way and promises to do better.

Charles asks Magneto to lead the X-Men and the New Mutants against the Beyonder.

Secret Wars II (1985) #1 “Earthfall!” by Jim Shooter

Magneto rallies the X-Men and the New Mutants to fight the Beyonder, and as the Blackbird is out of service, Magneto uses his powers to fly the Xavier institute limousine from New York to California.

August

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #196 “What was That?!!” by Chris Claremont

Magneto is brought into the X-Men fold.

Magneto dissuades Rachel Summers from killing an anti-mutant extremest demonstrating his full acceptance of doing things the Xavier way.

Magneto states that “My children have disowned me.” Referring to Wanda and Pietro.

Magneto draws a parallel between himself and Rachel Summers saying that he “Like Rachel… has dwelled too long in the valley of the shadow of death. In too many tragic ways, we are kindred souls – survivors of the holocaust, children of the abyss.”

Kitty remarks that Magneto has the makings of a hero and Magneto replies “No. I am no hero, merely a man… who has seen and done and endured what can never be forgotten… or forgiven.”

November

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #199 “The Spiral Path” by Chris Claremont

Magneto and Kitty attend a reception at the National Holocaust Center in Washington, D.C.

Kitty asks those in attendance if they have any news of her great-aunt Chava who lived in Warsaw before the war.

Magneto reveals that he knew Kitty’s aunt at Auschwitz. He also runs into some friends, other survivors who were at Auschwitz with him. They remark that Magneto helped to save them, and many others. (One could read this conversation as implying Magneto was Polish by nationality)

Magneto’s friends state that he had been in Auschwitz “from the very start.”

Neither of his friends use his name during the conversation.

Mystique and the Freedom Force arrest Magneto for the US Government. Magneto surrenders himself into their custody.

December

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #200 “The Trial of Magneto” by Chris Claremont

Magneto is put on trial before the World Court.

Gaby Haller acts as his defense attorney.

She argues that Magneto should only be judged for actions undertaken after his rebirth from infancy.

She reveals that Magneto was an inmate in Auschwitz “as an adolescent.”

Magneto is revealed to be, biologically, only in his early thirties.

The proceedings are interrupted by an attack. Charles and Magneto end up away from the court.

Charles entrusts the running of his institute and the keeping of his dream to Magneto telling him not to return to court to be martyred. Charles is then beamed aboard a spaceship for urgent medical care.

1986

January

New Mutants (1983) #35 “The Times, They Are A’changin’!” by Chris Claremont

Magneto takes up his post as the headmaster of the Xavier Institute. Magneto tells the New Mutants he is doing this to “honor that friendship” he has with Charles.

The New Mutants are skeptical of Magneto, but Magneto asks them to give him a chance. He says that both he and Charles view this as a way of “putting things right” after all the evil he has done in his life.

Magneto has doubts about his ability to run the institute.

Magneto wishes Lee were with him, but she’s running her ship. Magneto misses her which surprises him because Magneto “thought I was beyond such caring.”

Lee wrote Magneto a letter telling him that she loved him and calling him darling.

Mirage (Dani Moonstar) is attacked on her way home from town and once Mirage is safe, Magneto finds the attackers. He destroys their house and threatens “Once, with far less cause, I would quite cheerfully have slain you – rent your bodies limb from limb as easily as I did your house. Indeed, I am sorely tempted. The world would not miss such as you. But I am older, a littler sadder – and I hope, wiser. I have learned a better way.” and “Mine is the power to destroy – but I choose not to. Profit from my example. The evil you do others returns unto you a thousandfold – it scars both body and, far worse, soul. Continue down this cruel and bloody road you’ve chosen and one day, you’re certain to meet one not as forgiving as I. Is that what you want? The choice, as ever, remains your own.”

Mirage’s attackers turn themselves into the police.

February

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #202 “X-Men, I’ve Gone to Kill the Beyonder!” by Chris Claremont

Magneto uses Cerebro.

March

Vision and the Scarlet Witch (1985) #6 “No Strings Attached!” by Steve Englehart

Wanda invites Magneto to her thanksgiving dinner but ultimately tells him that he will have to prove himself before she’ll accept him into her life.

Magneto takes responsibility for being a bad father. (the author doesn’t write consistently on if Magneto knew he was the twins’ father or not, he also doesn’t seem to care if Pietro has any hard feelings about Magneto, Wanda is the only one who counts. Also, he has Magneto call pregnant Wanda hysterical for no reason, just fyi.)

April

New Mutants (1983) #38 “Aftermath!” by Chris Claremont

The New Mutants are collectively dealing with psychic shock after their meeting with the Beyonder. This includes nightly collective nightmares for the students and Magneto.

Magneto has doubts about his ability to help the students recover.

Emma Frost offers that Magneto should send the children to her Massachusetts Academy where she can use her powers to help them.

Magneto meets the Salem Center High principal Analie Hogarth. Magneto reveals that he is posing as Charles’ “mysterious older cousin” and going under the alias Michael Xavier, an identity Charles created for him.

One of Emma’s students, a Hellion named Empath (Manuel de la Rocha) is revealed to the reader as having manipulated Magneto to feel lost and confused.

Magneto tries throughout the issue to help the New Mutants, but nothing works. He finally agrees to Emma’s offer.

May

New Mutants (1983) #39 “Pawns of the White Queen” by Chris Claremont

Magneto goes into a spiral after sending the majority of the New Mutants away to Emma’s school, Mirage and Warlock being the only students who didn’t go. Mirage criticizes Magneto for not doing more before leaving to go back to her family.

Magneto swims.

Magneto shaves with a straight razor.

Magneto learns that he was manipulated into letting the New Mutants go to Emma’s school. Magneto proclaims Emma “Will learn – very soon and to her eternal sorrow – the Magneto is not a man… to have as one’s enemy!”

Emma alerts the police, telling them that Magneto is attempting to abduct her students knowing that the Avenger’s will try and stop him.

June

New Mutants (1983) #40 “Avengers Assemble!” by Chris Claremont

The Avengers are told Magneto is going to abduct children, all of them assume Magneto has gone bad again and wants to use the children to reboot the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants with younger, more malleable minds.

Magneto has a conversation with Warlock reminding him to never take someone’s “lifeglow” aka their life force which would kill them.

The Avengers battle Magneto who tries to keep Warlock safe and not harm the Avengers. He attempts to explain himself but the Avengers refuse to listen. Captain America tells Magneto of Namor’s heroism during WWII, Magneto replies saying “How fortunate for him, Captain. At the time, I was but a victim of that self-same tyranny. Then, I lacked the strength to win my freedom – and save the lives of those I held dear – but Never Again!” Magneto insists that he has “learned a better way” and is no longer a villain.

The New Mutants rally together and come to Magneto’s aid giving Captain America pause to reflect that the Avengers have welcomed other reformed villains, why shouldn’t they also welcome Magneto.

Magneto and Emma work together to heal the New Mutants’ psychic shock. Emma “made their minds whole… but not their hearts, or souls. Now, at last, with their teachers’ help and support, they have faced their nightmares… and dealt with them… each in their own way.” Emma remarks that Magneto was able to reach the New Mutants on a deeper level which made a “crucial difference.”

September

Vision and the Scarlet Witch (1985) #12 “Double Size Climax!” by Steve Englehart

Magneto is invited to welcome Wanda and her twins home from the hospital after she gives birth.

October

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #210 “The Morning After” by Chris Claremont

Magneto is invited to take the place of the White King in the Hellfire Club.

November

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #211 “Massacre” by Chris Claremont

Magneto chides Kitty for eating junk food and tells her “Just don’t make a habit of such behavior.”

The X-Men discover that the Morlocks have been massacred. Magneto says “No! The horrors of my childhood, born again – only this time, mutants are the victims, instead of Jews.”

December

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #212 “The Last Run” by Chris Claremont

Magneto uses his powers to heal Colossus from grave injuries. The narrative states Magneto “Has taken life so often – brought harm so easily it became almost second nature. Now he has a chance to heal. He will die himself before he fails.”

1987

January

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #213 “Psylocke” by Chris Claremont

Magneto informs the X-Men that he intends to join forces with the Hellfire Club and have the X-Men work alongside the Hellfire Club against the Marauders. The X-Men agree.

New Mutants (1983) #47 “My Heart for the Highlands” by Chris Claremont

While dealing with the aftermath of the Morlock attack, Magneto urges Moira to eat and prepares a meal for the two of them to share, complete with full place settings and candelabra.

Magneto tells Moira “I have lived my whole life with despair, Moira, believing the worst of humanity. But since becoming headmaster of Xavier’s – more especially, by knowing the New Mutants – I have learned… the virtue and power of hope. This is a lesson I will not easily cast aside.”

February

Fantastic Four vs. the X-Men (1987) #1 “Are You Sure?!” by Chris Claremont

(This miniseries dovetails into the regular Uncanny X-Men timeline and even though it runs concurrently with the similarly titled “The X-Men vs. the Avengers (1987)” these stories are not overlapping timeline wise and the events of the Fantastic Four miniseries only makes sense to have concluded before the Avengers miniseries begins.)

Kitty is in need of high tech medical care to resolidify herself after being stuck in a permanent phase. Without help she will eventually dissipate. Magneto goes to seek help from Reed Richards.

The Fantastic Four are suspicious of Magneto but agree to help.

Upon arriving at Moira’s Muir Island research facility, Reed has second thoughts and declines to help for fear he could outright kill Kitty accidentally. Magneto insists that he at least try and even attempts to steal Richards’ machine to use it himself, but the Fantastic Four thwart this plan and the X-Men are left without hope for Kitty.

New Mutants (1983) #48 “Ashes of the Heart” by Chris Claremont

Magneto is alone at the Mansion, the New Mutants having disappeared and by many are presumed dead.

Magneto goes through each New Mutant’s room and tidies it with the help of little robots he calls widgets.

Stevie Hunter, the school PE teacher, tells Magneto he should give up and face reality that the New Mutants are dead. Magneto tells her “I’ve come to know these children, and… care for them. Whatever I was, Stevie – whatever I become – they mean too much to me… to abandon them.”

March

Fantastic Four vs. the X-Men (1987) #2 “Truth and Consequences” by Chris Claremont

Magneto and the X-Men turn to Doctor Doom for help to save Kitty.

New Mutants (1983) #49 “Ashes of the Soul” by Chris Claremont

Magneto has a dream of when his family was killed by the German death squads known as the Einsatzgruppen.

It is spring time. A small group of people are gathered in front of a pit in the countryside.

Magneto is depicted as a young, black-haired boy, perhaps 10 years old, wearing short pants and long socks.

Magneto’s sister appears to be two or three years older than him.

German soldiers fire at the group of people killing all save Magneto. Without understanding what happens, Magneto’s powers manifest enough to spare him from death, “His mind burns, power he never dreamed existed coming alive.”

He is buried with his family and the rest of the victims, but since he did not die he climbs out of the pit.

Magneto is depicted breaking through the earth to the shock of the German soldiers. Magneto’s black hair has turned white.

Magneto wakes from his memory-dream thinking “So long ago, so far away. Yet the memories are still vivid. Every detail, etched with acid. My power – my mastery over magnetism – first manifested itself that morning. It saved me, why wouldn’t it do the same for those I loved?! The Germans were so astonished by my survival, the decided to spare my life. I was sent instead to a concentration camp. Auschwitz. Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t struggled so hard.”

Magneto wonders if his dream is a harbinger of mutantkind’s eventual fate.

Magneto is still undecided about joining the Hellfire Club thinking “If we stand alone, we could be destroyed. If I accept this alliance… we could be destroyed! The choice is mine – the responsibility is mine – but I don’t know what to do!”

April

The X-Men vs. the Avengers (1987) #1 “Justice for All” by Roger Stern

The Avengers track down Magneto and insist they’re going to bring him back before the World Court and end his trail properly.

(Jim Shooter is fired as Editor in Chief from Marvel Comics this month leading to several years of corporate fuckery that resulted in erasing all of Magneto’s character development and pivoting him back to being an antagonist by the 90’s)

May

New Mutants (1983) #51 “Teacher’s Choice” by Chris Claremont

Magneto and Storm work together to repair a failing breakwater and save a human community from a hurricane.

Storm urges Magneto to accept the position of White King in the Hellfire Club.

Magneto refers to his helmet as a symbol of his past life as a super-villain.

Magneto and Storm jointly accept the role of White King.

June

Fantastic Four vs. the X-Men (1987) #4 “A Matter of Faith” by Chris Claremont

Magneto confides in Storm his feelings of helplessness to do anything to save Kitty. He reflects on his past saying “Roughly five hundred miles in that direction is Auschwitz – the Nazi death camp – where my parents and sister were murdered. I should have died with them. And due west from Latveria is the Soviet city of Vinnitsa. There was a fire. I was injured saving my wife. My daughter remained trapped in the burning building. She was much like Kitty, my Anya. The most beautiful of children – two years old, Ororo, and she never cried. She only laughed – with wonder and joy – as though life was some magnificent adventure, staged for her alone.” (There is some contradiction between this telling and the others, some of the details change as ideas are developed even though the story remains wholly the same.)

He goes on to say “She burned, Storm! My power was weaker then. I used it to save my wife, but couldn’t reach Anya. A crowd had gathered. I begged for help. They refused me. They saw I was a mutant and some called for me to be hurled into the same flames that consumed my child. Too late – in rage and a grief that ravages me still – I came at last to my birthright: the absolute control over the forces and manifestations of magnetism that is the power of… Magneto! Magda… was so terrified of my power… and how I wielded it… that she fled from me. How different, I wonder, would the pathway of my life have been if she had not? In that awful moment, Storm, I lost everything.” (This telling of the story does not include the secret police)

Magneto tells Storm that he feels he is forever haunted by his past saying that people insist on seeing him as a villain even though he’s changed. He reflects that maybe he should have gone back to finish his trial.

Reed Richards finally comes to help them save Kitty and later Magneto and Richards make peace with each other.

July

The X-Men vs. the Avengers (1987) #4 “Day of Judgment” by Tom DeFalco

Magneto surrenders himself to the Avengers and agrees to finish his trial before the World Court.

Gaby Haller once again acts as his defense attorney.

Magneto uses his helmet and advanced technology circuits to influence the chief justice to rule in his favor. It is unclear, however, if he actually was able to influence the judge or if the judge ruled in Magneto’s favor of his own volition. The court declares it has no jurisdiction over Magneto.

Marvel Fanfare #33 “Shadows on the Soul” by Chris Claremont

(This story originally written for a different series but never released until 1987.)

Magneto and Lee are together and confess their feelings for each other.

Magneto calls the X-Men his friends.

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #219 “Where Duty Lies” by Chris Claremont

It is revealed that Magneto has publicly assumed the identity as a cousin of Charles’ who also bears the last name Xavier.

August

Classic X-Men (1986) #12 by Chris Claremont

(Classic X-Men reprinted earlier Claremont X-Men stories but added new material (sometimes individual pages, sometimes additional short stories) to fill out the issue and tie into current comic continuity. Claremont wrote both the original X-Men issue that was being reprinted and the new material that was added.)

(New material that takes place directly after Uncanny X-Men (1963) #104)

Magneto is asleep not long after being resurrected by Eric the Red. He is dreaming “As always, the dream begins with Auschwitz… and Magda. More than a million people died in this camp. And with World War II ending – the Third Reich defeated – it’s guards wanted no witnesses left… to tell the tale of this horror.”

Magneto prevents a camp guard from killing Magda, then takes the guard’s gun and runs away with Magda.

Magneto is said to have “been here from the start… grown to manhood within its electrified barbed wire fence. If he was to die, it would not be in this abattoir… and not without a fight!”

Magneto and Magda run into the wilderness, eventually escaping into the Carpathian Mountains where they eventually settle and begin to build a life together. The page shows Magneto felling a tree, learning woodworking, studying, Magneto socializing with friends at a dinner table, getting married to Magda and cuddling his wife and newborn daughter, Anya.

Magneto is described as having “an insatiable hunger for knowledge, coupled with a wildfire intelligence” so eventually “he bade the village farewell and took his family eastward, into the Soviet Union, hoping to win a place at university” (This suggests that Magneto was living in a village in the Polish side of the Carpathians)

Magneto, Magda and Anya come to the “city of Vinnitsa, the biggest they’d ever seen.” (This suggests that Magneto and Magda came from a rural village or town before being sent to Auschwitz)

Magneto leaves his wife and daughter to go find work.

Anya is depicted as a child between 4-6 years old.

Magneto’s powers first manifest when he has a disagreement with another man. Magneto realizes the powers come from himself and isn’t sure what to make of it.

Magneto returns to the inn where he and his family are staying since this is their first day in the city. The inn is on fire and Anya is trapped on the second floor of the building.

Magda is in the building trying to save their daughter, Magneto uses his powers to get her to safety.

Magneto curses in Russian.

Magneto attempts to get to Anya but is prevented by secret police who are trying to arrest him for his earlier disagreement.

Anya dies in the fire, Magneto’s powers break loose killing those around him save for Magda.

Magda is terrified by what she just witnessed and runs away from Magneto.

Magneto wakes from his dream and uses his powers to save a nearby mother and child from a fire.

Magneto speaks French.

1988

January

New Mutants Annual (1984) #4 “Mind Games” by Louise Simonson

Magneto lectures Sunspot (Roberto da Costa) that the new Mutant Registration Act presents a real danger to all mutants. He states “There are diverse elements in the government who are eager to locate us mutants… in part through their Mutant Registration Act. Some of them would use us. The others would destroy us. I have staked my life that they will do neither.”

New Mutants (1983) #59 “Fang and Claw!” by Louise Simonson

Magneto is overjoyed when Sunspot and Warlock return from an absence.

A villain pulls up a file on the New Mutants showing their images and listing everyone’s name, code-name and powers. Magneto’s profile lists him as “Magnus, Magneto, Master of Magnetism, School’s Headmaster” no last name is given.

February

Classic X-Men (1986) #18 by Chris Claremont

(Additional material to Uncanny X-Men (1963) #112)

Storm reflects on when Magneto was turned into an infant, thinking “He returned completely to a state of grace.”

March

(The X-Men are presumed dead after the events of Uncanny X-Men #227)

New Mutants (1983) #61 “Our Way!” by Louise Simonson

Magneto discovers one of the New Mutants, Cypher (Doug Ramsey) has been murdered after a misadventure. Magneto lashes out at the New Mutants for not protecting Doug and for disobeying him. Everyone is deeply upset.

Magneto goes to the infirmary where Doug’s body is laying. He pulls back the sheet covering Doug and looks at the boy thinking “Curse you Charles Xavier, for putting me in this position! I have no rapport with these children. Observe the bitter fruit of my labors!” Magneto kneels at the side of the table where Doug lays and weeps over his body. “An ill wind is coming… they are registering mutants like the once registered my people in Poland…! Who knows what horrors await us. But they are only children. How can they possibly understand… any of this.” (This suggests Magneto is Polish by birth)

Classic X-Men (1986) #19 by Chris Claremont

(Additional material to Uncanny X-Men (1963) #113)

Magneto is described thusly: “His wealth places him far beyond the dreams of avarice. And he numbers some of the finest minds on Earth among his acquaintances. The one facet of his personality that has not changed throughout the decades is his love of learning coupled with an insatiable curiosity about the universe.”

Magneto is a regular correspondent with Stephen Hawking.

Magneto is seen working with advanced scientific equipment making discoveries capable of revolutionizing particle physics and would qualify him for a Nobel prize.

Magneto remembers that Magda used to find him studying long hours to the point that he’d “forgotten food, and sleep, and even her.”

Magneto shaves with an electric razor.

Magneto thinks about Magda and Anya thinking since his resurrection he’s never been stronger or more haunted.

Magneto wonders if Magda is still alive and if she recognizes the famous “evil mutant” as her former husband.

Magneto describes Charles as his dearest friend.

(New material presented in the form of a backflash that takes place at some point after the Uncanny X-Men (1963) #161 story which details Charles and Magneto meeting for the first time. This story suggests that these events take place shortly before Uncanny X-Men #1 when the X-Men face Magneto for the first time in 1963.)

Magneto single-handedly takes out a secret Nazi base in South America and captures Oberstrumbanführer Hans Richter to be taken back to Israel and be put on trial.

After using his powers, Magneto suffers from debilitating psychic pain “Worse than the bite of the kapo’s whip, the murder of parents and family. The death of a child. The loss of a beloved wife. It passes quickly leaving him alive – and almost wishing he wasn’t.” Magneto observes that “These seizures strike now whenever I use my powers. More extreme my usage, more debilitating the attack.”

Magneto reports of the captured Nazi to a group called only “Control” (This seems to be a stand in for a Mossod style organization.)

Two weeks later, in Rio de Janiero, Magneto reads an article about Charles Xavier and wonders if he shouldn’t reconnect with him and seek help for his psychic attacks.

A woman in a bikini and sarong approaches Magneto asking why he’s dressed so formally in a suit and tie at a beach front cafe. Magneto replies “This, I’m afraid, is as uninhibited as I get.”

The woman turns out to be Magneto’s lover Isabelle, no last name is given.

Magneto recounts to Isabelle about how Anya died and Magda left him.

Control did not want Richter captured as he was a useful informant, so they send a squad to kill Isabelle and Magneto. They succeed in slaying Isabelle, but Magneto uses his powers to fight against them.

Magneto looks on Isabelle’s body completely disillusioned with humanity. The reader is told that “the dream dies… and the nightmare is born.”

June

New Mutants (1983) #64 “Instant Replay!” by Louise Simonson

Magneto is disgusted with himself after being forced to lie about the circumstances of Cypher’s death. He tells the New Mutants “It’s wrong. His parents have the right to know the truth about their son… about the way he died. But I feel that it would be dangerous to reveal ourselves as mutants at this time.”

August

New Mutants (1983) #66 “Sorcerer’s Duel!” by Louise Simonson

Magneto is seen in his old purple and red villain costume for the first time since Uncanny X-Men #188 and Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #12. This seems to be the start of Magneto’s corporate mandated pivot back to being an antagonist.

November

New Mutants (1983) #69 “Bad Company” by Louise Simonson

Magneto, dressed once more in his traditional red and purple outfit, holds his helmet in his hands as he says “All I have ever wanted for mutantkind is peace and prosperity. I thought I had found a better way to achieve my goal… and eschewed my old, violent ways. I had hoped to find solace as teacher and protector of the young. But they refuse to be safeguarded, if they are on Earth, I will find them… and protect them actively in the way that I know best.” Magneto puts his helmet on.

1989

April

New Mutants (1983) #74 “The Right Stuff” by Louise Simonson

Shaw blames Magneto for damages to New York City caused by Magick’s (Illyana Rasputin) Limbo demons.

Magneto and Sebastian Shaw fight each other briefly, Magneto accuses Shaw of not caring for mutantkind.

Later, Magneto talks to Emma and suggests that Shaw was right to blame him.

May

New Mutants (1983) #75 “King of the Hill!” by Louise Simonson

Magneto fights with Shaw for control of the Hellfire Club.

Magneto comes out of the confrontation victorious and Shaw is expelled from the club.

Magneto and the New Mutants have a falling out and the New Mutants refuse to have anything more to do with him.

November

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #253 “Storm Warnings” by Chris Claremont

Magneto and Moira quarrel on Muir Island about him parting ways with the X-Men, the New Mutants and the Xavier Institute.

Magneto is convinced “There is a war coming, Moira. And you are a fool if you do not see it. We mutants cannot be wished away, we are here on this earth, more and more born every day. There are those who will accept us, and those who fear us and seek our destruction. And, worst of all, those like Genoshans… who desire to exploit us for their own power and profit. We must be strong enough – as a people – to survive without the sufferance of the one or the aggression of the others. I mean to ensure that. I must – because there is no one else.”

Magneto tells Banshee “I am sorry things have to end like this – but I suspect it’s for the best. Some roads are better traveled alone.”

Magneto leaves.

1990

October

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #269 “Rogue Redux” by Chris Claremont

Magneto intervenes to save Rogue’s life after she is reborn from another dimension without her mutant abilities. He attempts to return her to her previous strength and powers in his base in the Savage Lands.

1991

February

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #273 “Too Many Mutants” by Chris Claremont

Jean tells storm that she’s concerned Magneto is returning to his old ways.

March

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #274 “Crossroads” by Chris Claremont

Magneto narrates this issue: “All my life, I have been drawn to the wild and desolate places of the world. As a boy, I saw myself walking where no man ever had. Alone against the elements. The more I came to know of people… the more strongly that yearning dream spoke to me. As the fierce, unyielding emptiness without struck some resonant echo within my heart and soul. Yet for all of that… for all of life replete with it’s share and far more of rage and pain and suffering, as harshly given as endured… still I manage to find myself with allies. Who appear determined to stand by me, regardless. I wonder which are the greater fools: they for trying and trusting, or me for allowing it.”

Magneto is working with Ka-Zar and a depowered Rogue in the Savage Lands against the evil Zaladane.

When Rogue fights one of Zaladane’s goons, Magneto intervenes, thinking “I hear my daughter Anya scream as she burns before my eyes… hear Isabelle’s gasp of surprise as she is murdered… two I loved but were unable to save. Only avenge. It will not be that way with Rogue.”

Rogue presses Magneto to be merciful, saying “We’re the good guys, right?! We’re s’posed t’ stand for something better!” Magneto narrates “She actually believes that. Why can’t I? All I see is blood. That already spilled. That yet to be. I see my path so clearly. But I turn away.”

Magneto narrates “Later in my citadel, I reflect that ages ago – in what for me was another lifetime – I used my knowledge of genetics to mutate a band of swamp savages into super-powered beings. When they were no longer useful, I abandoned them to their fate, forgot their very existence. More of my past come back to haunt my present and threaten the future.” and in regards to his past as leader of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants “It is a goal I once had, in those long-gone days of madness, when I was reviled and condemned as a super-villain” and then later “My life’s ambition has been to safeguard my fellow mutants. Zaladane has no such compunction. And I hear the echo of Der Führer’s voice in the radio of memory, smell the awful stench of the sick and dying as the cattle cars brought the condemned to Auschwitz. I wear red, the color of blood, in tribute to their lost lives. And the harder I try to cast it aside, to find a gentler path… the more irresistibly I’m drawn back. I should have died myself, with those I loved. Instead, I carted the bodies by the hundred by the thousands… from the death house to the crematorium… and the ashes to the burial ground. Asking now what I could not then – why was I spared?! To bring others the death that passed me by?”

Magneto narrates on Zaladane “The more I come to know of her… the more I find myself trapped in a mirror… staring at a distorted vision of myself. Sleep is a mistake. But I’m so weary this once I can’t resist. Any more than I can hold at bay… the nightmares that come along. Flowers. Scent of growing things. Joyful sounds of life. So clear. So crisp, after more than half a century. Someone sobs. My sister holds tight my hand. My father still cannot believe this is happening. I hear laughter. The guns blaze, and I’m falling with the others. Into darkness. Loamy earth smell tainted by the acrid burning of lime. All of us pressed so tight together, embracing eternity. So easy to give up. Lie in my grave. Breathe my last. But I fight!” (This recounts the events around Magneto's family's death depicted in The New Mutants #49)

Rogue wakes Magneto and they share a moment before being interrupted by Ka-Zar. Magneto thinks “Am I imagining the sudden spark between us. Leaving Rogue as shaken as I? Leave well enough alone. I am pledged to another. As much as one can pledge a heart full of ghosts.”

Magneto narrates “I cannot recall a point in my life when I did not fight. Nor any longer of a time when war held the slightest horror for me.”

Magneto’s group is aided by Nick Fury’s group which includes the father of one of the Soviet sailors killed my Magneto on the submarine Leningrad. Magneto narrates “Again, a cry from the past. One father to another, in anguished grief for a slain child. At the time, my actions seemed quite appropriate. The Leningrad had fired a salvo of nuclear ballistic missiles at me, so I sank her, with all hands. Thinking of that crew not as people, but merely an object lesson: how dare they defy me, threaten me, these Russians whose countrymen let my daughter burn to death? There is too much history and hate between us. I cannot talk to these men.”

April

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #274 “The Path Not Taken” by Chris Claremont and Jim Lee

The Russian colonel guns down Magneto leading to him being captured by Zaladane. The colonel joins Zaladane. Zaladane uses a machine to try and transfer Magneto’s powers to herself. Under the influence of the machine Magneto narrates “Try as I might, I cannot stop this. And worst of all, as my life is torn from me, turned into a sideshow entertainment for the Brainchild’s sadistic pleasure… with my strength devoted wholly to that struggle, I have nothing left to block my emotional responses to the memories themselves. Once more, I hear myself howl ‘til my voice shatters at the sight of my daughter, Anya, burning to death before my eyes. Once more, hot blood mixes with salt tears as my beloved Isabelle’s throat is cut by those I thought my trusted friends. Once more, rage flashes through me… hand in hand with a terror I’d not felt since Auschwitz… as at last I confront the Shadow King. Followed by sick shame at the awful cost of my survival.”

Zaladane leaves Magneto with her minions. Rogue and her team have infiltrated Zaladanes stronghold and once Magneto realizes they are there, he strikes the minions unexpectedly. Magneto narrates “They think me beaten, finished. A mistake many have made in the past. As I found the strength, as a boy, to survive being machine gunned and buried alive, and later the unimaginable horror of Auschwitz… so do I find it in me, here and now, to break free.”

Magneto narrates “The primal, paramount lesson of my life is that I can depend on no one save myself.”

Magneto fights against the Russian colonel saying “I am sorry for your son, colonel. Which is more than I ever heard… for the slaughter of those I loved.” Colonel Semyanov says “Your… daughter you mean? And that absolves you of any crime?” Magneto replies “I never said it did. For who we are, and what we have done, comrade colonel… we are both of us condemned.”

Rogue and Magneto argue over how he intends to deal with Zaladane. Magneto says “The New Mutants were left in my charge and they suffered for it – because I tried to pattern myself after Charles Xavier. I am not Charles Xavier. I will never be Charles Xavier. I was a fool to try. As he was, for believing I could succeed. My people are in danger – more so now than ever before – from the Hellfire Club and their accursed Shadow Kind, from foul creatures such as this, perhaps even from the very United Nations which Colonel Fury loyally serves. And a kinder, gentler Magneto cannot save them.”

October

X-Men (1991) #1 “Rubicon” by Chris Claremont and Jim Lee

Magneto has established a mutant haven on a new Asteroid M. World governments are wary of it and the X-Men are dispatched to discover what’s going on.

Magneto raises the submarine Leningrad (which he sank in Uncanny X-Men #150) from the sea floor. He finds some of the nuclear missiles the submarine was carrying are intact.

Inside the submarine, Magneto comes finds himself sitting among the bones of the Leningrad’s crew. “Now though, at last, he finds himself face to face with the consequence of his acts. And he remembers another time, other bodies, bones still coated with the flesh of family and friends, tossed into a lime-soaked pit and him along with them, only he was still alive. Somehow, he clawed his way to the surface.” (This again refers to the account of Magneto's family's death in The New Mutants #49)

Rogue tells Magneto that his actions are scaring people. Magneto says “I tried my best to change, I did my best to follow Xavier’s path to a peaceful co-existence between Homo Sapiens and Homo Sapiens Superior. And paid for that folly with the blood of innocents.”

Later on Asteroid M, Magneto ruminates on his latest conflict with the X-Men thinking of Wolverine in particular “For the brief time I worked with the X-Men, he accepted me wholeheartedly. If not as a friend, then at least as a comrade-in-arms. Why then has he turned on me? What has changed? Why must blood always come between me and others?” (Magneto has been working with the X-Men and the New Mutants since 1985)

Radical mutant acolytes that have decided to follow Magneto, led by Fabian Cortez, fight with the X-Men. Magneto puts a stop to it and says “All my life, I have seen people slaughtered wholesale for no more reason than the deity they worshipped, or the color of their skin – or the presence in their DNA of an extra, special gene. I cannot change the world but I can – and will – ensure that my race will never again suffer for its fear and prejudice. Henceforth, I declare Asteroid M a sovereign world. Home and haven to mutantkind. If you are born Homo Sapiens Superior, then you are automatically a citizen, entitled to safe haven above and security below. Even you X-Men – even your mentor, my old friend, Charles Xavier – are welcome here. But mark this and mark it well – harm done against any mutant is harm done to me. And I shall respond accordingly.”

November

X-Men (1991) #2 “Firestorm” by Chris Claremont and Jim Lee

Beast says that the Genoshans are changing for the better, and asks why Magneto is going in the opposite direction. Magneto says “You know that answer, Beast… you would have to live my life. And I would not wish such a fate, even on my most hated enemy.”

Magneto abducts Charles and Moira looking for answers about his genetic structure. Moira admits that she saw there was a genetic instability in Magneto’s genetic matrix, and she tried to stabilize it when he was an infant in her care.

Magneto is infuriated that Moira conducted genetic experimentation on him in an attempt to change who he was. He questions every decision he’s made since his rebirth.

Moira is apologetic, but Magneto’s anger is unabated. He tells her “I heard those same rationales as a boy, in the Auschwitz death camp, from Dr. Josef Mengele himself!”

December

X-Men (1991) #3 “Fallout” by Chris Claremont and Jim Lee

Moira reveals that the genetic experimentation she did on baby Magneto didn’t work.

Moira also points out that Cortez has been using his power to weaken Magneto.

Cortex flees Asteroid M and fires a shot at the complex that will kill all the inhabitants.

Charles and the X-Men prepare to leave in their spacecraft, but Magneto refuses to leave with them instead choosing to stay on the asteroid to preserve its integrity as long as possible using his powers. He tells Charles “My life was shaped by forces and events none of you can possibly understand. You speak to the best of humanity. I have endured the worst. You imagine the reality of the Holocaust, of the Nazi death camps. I grew up in one. Perhaps, as you say, I am tainted by blood and rage – and death. But perhaps as well, that blood and rage and death comprise the armor that will sustain me and those who stand by me through the ordeal to come. The past is prologue, old friend. And the future I behold for you is… war. We have already chosen our path.”

Asteroid M blows up just as the X-Men escape. Charles tells them all “At the last… he opened his thoughts to me. He is still the man I remember from younger, happier days – who was my friend – and yet… none of that matters anymore, does it? ‘I save you, X-Men,’ he said, ‘because that is my task in life: to safeguard my people – Homo Sapiens Superior – mutantkind – from those who would do us harm. And those forces are legion. In that and I suspect nothing else, Charles, we are much alike. I have survived one Holocaust, I could not tolerate another. Nor any who – by accident, by intent – act to bring it about. I bore no animus to you, old friend, or your students until you chose to oppose me. Then, I had no choice but to count you among my enemies. Have no illusions on that score. Perhaps it’s best it end this way, Charles. Best for my dream to end in flames and glory, here far above Earth… for if we were ever to meet again… I would have shown you no mercy. I give you your dream, Charles. But I fear, in time, your heart will break as you realize it has ever been a fool’s hope. Farewell, my friend.”

Chris Claremont was removed from the X-Men without explanation and left Marvel after this book. He had been writing for the X-Men for 17 years. To learn more about Chris Claremont and his work on the X-Men and the corporate fuckery that lead to him leaving watch the 2018 documentary Chris Claremont’s X-Men which is currently available free on YouTube.

If you feel like I’ve overlooked or left out an important issue from the 1963-1991 era, please contact me and let me know. I will update this list with more information if any comes to light.

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satanicspinosaurus · 5 months

Text

Seconds

Tags: Bloodweave, Gale’s cooking, blood, cow’s blood, gift giving, fluff, getting together, after a break up, basically two hungry and scared people trying to figure out the world, Gale’s POV, so enjoy all his insecurities, and some verbose writing choices that are intentional, Astarion snark, kissing, ear touching, frankly you can read half of this as a metaphor for sex, author can’t stop you, author thinks it would be a mistake though

Length: 2k

Rating: Teen

Read on A03: here.

Summary: Gale and Astarion had struck up a friendship after a failed night of romance. Now, with the Netherbrain fight around the corner, Gale finds his heart still aches to give Astarion any scrap of happiness he can offer. This is a story about a man made of failures and hunger, trying to be a good friend. It begins with a steak. And ends with this most delicious second course.

With thanks: To my dear friend @lumienyx, who is frankly encouraging my bullshit at an alarming rate. And to the lovely @tragedybunny who hunted down the typos and errors on this like Tara feasting on pigeons.

•・・・◉・・・•

Gale rummaged through the spice cabinet of the Inn. He was pleased to see that the cook, who had allowed him to slip her a few gold coins for access and privacy, had managed to craft a solid selection. The sprig rosemary seemed a touch too on the nose, so he grabbed a little bundle of thyme instead- striping it into the butter as the filet sizzled in the cast iron skillet.

It was a delicate process, mainly because he was aiming for as close to rare as humanly possible to achieve. It didn’t give him much time to develop a proper crust, but as Gale spooned the butter back onto the filet, he also pulled from the Weave. Perhaps he asked more than normally would be needed for a simple cantrip. But he needed to infuse all the wonderful things Astarion deserved to taste in it.

Astarion meandered in a few moments later, when Gale had plated it and was intensely overseeing the food resting as if he could personally will it to perfection.

The vampire gave a sharp tut after observing the scene, perhaps annoyed his entrance hadn’t been noted.

“When you said you had a surprise for me to try, darling, I assumed it would be something that would make me interested in swallowing,” the vampire finally said to announce his presence.

Gale looked up brightly at where the playful swatting came from, a warm smile breaking onto his face. He laid the best knife and fork he could find near the plate and pushed it forward.

“Ah, trust me my dear friend,” Gale encouraged. “I do believe I have made some acceptable advances since the last time you tried my cooking.”

That had been back when Astarion was still trying to hide what, and more importantly, who he was. Perhaps it had helped in the long run though. It had taught Gale that Astarion could put a wide variety of things in his mouth and pretend to love it. Later, after sampling a decent red Astarion claimed to be vinegar, Gale had come to the quick conclusion that vampirism negatively affected the culinary practice of taste.

The idea was tantalizing to him. In part because no bestiary had even half the details he could observe in a single evening around Astarion. But he also hoped to reach past the honeyed words for the real truth.

He was curious, in particular, about why Astartion still attempted to drink wine. It said something about appetite that felt vaguely nostalgic to Gale.

But then Tav, who had uncritically eaten up Astarion’s sweet smiles and words at the party, eagerly indulged in their place of origin first. Gale didn't feel hurt that Astarion preferred someone else's straightforward affection over his own questions. The tadpoles had made their timelines risky and fortune favored the bold.

It was a short thing, in the end though. After one encounter, Tav ultimately found her heart lay more with Karlach’s wholesome sweetness. It was better fit for her than wrestling with the delicate halflies that laid nestled to hide half-truths in Astarion’s heart. If it had hurt him, the vampire hadn’t let on, going back to mulling around the camp with hungry eyes and talking of desires.

And once again, Gale was left turning over the dozens of little curious details about appetite Astarion occasionally dropped; trying to lay them out and find the bigger picture. Gale had been too confident of his ability to uncover that truth once again. Astarion’s sudden thrust backing onto the dating scene hadn’t struck him as quite so desperate, but a beautiful mystery he alone could solve.

He was grateful his hubris had at least allowed him the chance of friendship with Astarion. Rather than once again stripping him of everything when he inevitably failed. No, he savored the friendship he was allowed. Even if, quietly, his heart still wanted to give Astarion all the beauty his mind could dream of and his hands could weave.

The food was a meager offering, really, but the wizard was happy to see Astarion shrug and sit down to try it.

Maybe it wasn’t everything Gale had dreamed of in his books to see a bit of excitement build on the man’s face when he delicately sniffed his offering. He was not worthy of giving a thousand days and nights of little pleasures to anyone, it would seem. But, oh, if his heart didn’t flutter a bit at how Astarion’s eyes widened slightly when he gracefully cut into the steak and a weave-enhanced aroma wafted up.

Gale had truly grown to enjoy his time spent in friendship with the pale elf. He was a stellar, if not acerbic, conversationalist. And the only other person at camp that enjoyed books beyond bawdy romances. Astarion was a person Gale could imagine being around every day for decades without it ever becoming boring. Well, assuming Gale wouldn’t be left alone because the vampire wandered off to find more interesting company than a stuffy wizard.

At least for now, sometimes he’d say something clever and elicit a sharp grin. Or he’d make a genuine offer to want to properly introduce Astarion to Tara once this was all over, and something soft would grow on the man’s face before he schooled it away. Hells, even walking around Baldur’s Gate and just commenting on architecture with him made Gale desperate to show Astarion Waterdeep.

It was clear his dear friend had a taste for the finer things in life, but had been left starved. Gale wanted to lay out a banquet for him, to hear his commentary and innovate until he found satisfaction. It was a beautiful thought for the future, but that was a thing still being written.

Gale needed to try and take that joy and give it in lump sum, lest the worst happened tomorrow. There were notes in his pack on leads Astarion could begin searching down for help finding a place in the sunlight, that he’d entrust to a messenger soon. A desperate letter to his mother, hoping she would extend the clan’s aid to his dear friend. A few letters of introduction that Gale prayed would be enough to get Astarion a chance to observe rare books at Candlekeep if he so needed.

In the meantime, Gale had but this moment. Watching Astarion primly take a bite of the filet and chew as if he was a bit out of practice.

This wasn’t the first time Gale had cooked something special for someone - he had a sophomoric idea of what facial expressions to expect. Like always, Astarion didn’t disappoint though with novelty. There was a strange look on his face; emotions roiling so intensely nothing had a beginning nor end.

“This is shit,” Astarion eventually hissed.

Gale offered up open palms, apologetic shoulders, and the broken in, embarrassed smile of a man so used to his reach exceeding his grasp in anything that truly mattered.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “You don’t have to finish it–”

Astarion looked him dead in the eye. When he had Gale's full attention, he stabbed the piece of meat like it had been carved from Cazador himself. He brought it to his mouth and bit down. Hard. Hard enough Gale could hear the cutlery screech in protest.

Astarion was a messy eater- a man of singularly devouring hunger. The blood from the filet trickled down his chin, to his chest, marking him temporarily like Gale’s own source of perverse appetite.

Gale watched him swallow and ruminate.

“This tastes like goodbye,” the man drawled, eyes pinning Gale to his spot. “I don’t like it.”

Gale smiled, trying to ignore the first thing and address only the second.

“Well, sometimes experiments don’t always work out,” he began to affably ramble. “I did believe that a few uses of prestidigitation would help overcome your normally exclusively sanguine diet, but I would still appreciate if you could offer some notes-”

While Gale had been prattling about cantrips, Astarion had decided to switch from rumination to predation. He had gotten up, head refusing to move as he stalked towards Gale like a cat fixated on a songbird. The vampire pounced, slamming the wizard into the cabinets. All it took was a bold hand wrenching one wrist up above his head and a tongue thrust into his mouth to strip him of his power, his self-image as Gale of Waterdeep.

Astarion devoured Gale Dekarios’ mouth, eating up the moans his actions elicited.

After a second or eternity, the poor man wasn’t sure which, Astarion broke away to let Gale pant.

“I want seconds,” Astarion commanded, his other hand running down a thigh- barely keeping to a space that wouldn’t be scandalous if someone walked in.

Gale tried to master his fluttering heart, to let it accept air and nourishment so it would stop screaming in his chest almost loud enough that it drowned out the orb.

“You don’t,” he gasped, licking his lips before trying again. “You said you don’t do seconds.”

That was one of the first, sharp pieces of truth Astarion had flung at him, after their night of gentle love making had cracked through a mask made to suffer only harsh blows.

People don’t use me twice, he had lilted in the morning. After he had time to lick the wounds Gale’s gentle praise had inflicted and compose himself back to untouchable beauty. Go find someone you can wake up with a thousand times.

That was back when Astarion wasn’t sure if he would be free, but Gale was still hopeful a solution was available for his own woes. Now things had changed.

Gale felt the grip on his wrist tighten. Nails that bit into his skin, fearful that without the contact there would be nothing. It was the touch of a man who had rejected the stolen pleasures of ascending, and now wished to ground himself in freely offered affections.

“I didn’t want you to die,” Astarion offered quietly as his body screamed in accordance. “But I am realizing now that not dying is second to living.”

Gale wanted to soothe away the worry on the man's face. To cradle the pressed brow gently and let it entrust all its worries to him. But Astarion held him firm. No matter - Gale always had a clever tongue.

"With the number of threats our group has managed to vanquish in the last tenday alone, I think our odds are very good at succeeding, Astarion."

Astarion laughed, letting go of Gale’s wrist to poke at the site where the orb marked him. “I know this is your back-up plan, Gale. Maybe you’ll blow yourself up if we struggle too much against the Netherbain. Maybe you’ll let Mystra own you to remove it. Or she’ll use it as a threat to bargain against your interest in the Crown. But I am tired of petty tyrants’ wants and demands.”

“She’s a Goddess, Astarion, it’s not remotely-” Gale tried to interject.

Astarion didn’t even dignify that with a verbal response. He simply looked at Gale, eyes flickering from where the orb burned him to his own, violently marked neck. Astarion knew what manufactured pain was, appetites unanswered. It was why they spoke so easily, they shared this perverse second language.

“You deserve a choice too,” Astarion eventually said.

The first kiss in the kitchen was Astarion’s - passionate and aggressive to hide the tenderness it came from. The second was Gale’s - slow and soft, an adventure that ended with being more daring by the hearth. They weren’t so different. Both had left a man gasping for more, a hand traveling to places to hint at encores.

Astarion leaned into the way Gale’s fingers gripped his curls, the pad of his thumb ever so slightly brushing against his ear in a way that would barely be considered scandalous if anyone ever came in.

“What if I wanted to choose a second Mr. Dekarios?” Gale whispered.

Astarion had a talent for saying one thing, but meaning another. It was intoxicating to Gale. The way he could roll his eyes and bring up a lip in a perfect sneer that to an onlooker signaled disgust embodied, a hint of fang and claws coming out. But oh, if the man wasn’t still tender to the touch- a gentle weight that was as inviting as his words were barbed. A secret laid out only for him to discover.

“Well, you should probably get better at cooking, darling. I have no clue how you plan to catch any self-respecting man in your current situation.”

His hungry red eyes glanced down to a plate that was empty.

“I, for one, have standards,” Astarion said softly.

Gale was a man of great pride. It was tempting to press back, to needle the vampire. Perhaps to bring a thumb to wipe up the blood that was still shining on his neck and watch the man lick it off before calling him on the falsehood.

But on second thought, Gale also desperately needed to close his eyes and believe in the magic of being allowed this close again. He leaned his brow to Astarion’s to give a kiss to the naked skin he found. Not to soothe away the way the vampire had his eyebrows furrowed in concern of being seen. But as a promise he loved this too and wanted it just as much as every other part of him.

“I look forward to learning about every single one, no matter how small or obscure,” he promised. “I will ascribe them upon my heart, and treasure each word as a gift.”

Astarion looked at him, searching for the lie. Gale was granted the privilege of watching his eyes grow soft with the knowledge that the wizard was as sincere as he was loquacious.

Then, he had the thrill of watching a vampire who had recently declared he wanted to start living realize he was ravenous.

And that Gale was the perfect second course for this evening and many more to come.

︶꒦꒷❤︎꒷꒦︶

Author Notes: Thank you for reading this! As always, I would like to remind you thirsty folks to hydrate a bit if needed. Although I suppose for this fic, maybe encouraging you to get a snack would be more appropriate!

Please let me know if you enjoyed the pun in the tags. :P

Hopefully this is the start of a solid writing month for me. I'm going to be aiming to put out something each Monday.

#astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfic #bloodweave #fluff #SpinoWrites #yes I do cook a lot #I imagine Gale's love language includes gift giving #I think he learned it from Tara #technically its not blood that comes out of steak when you bite it btw #its myogoblin #But its a protein and iron and looks vaguely like blood so enjoy

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