#Jon and Magnus are just sitting around thinking anything they do actually controls the story while Martin and Annabelle get things done | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

banashee · 3 years

Link

Hi Folks, welcome to my third fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :) @archivalpride

Archival Pride 2021, Week three (June 15-21) Prompts: Love Languages, Doubt, Post-Canon, Intimacy, Home

The key words I've used here are Post-Canon, Home and Intimacy

- Off-screen Arguments - scars - Trauma recovery - brief but canon-typical violence - References to Canon-Stabby-Stabby in MAG200 - mention of coma, no details - reference to homophobic Parent

A Second Chance

Some days, it still feels like a dream. That they are here, together, that they get to have this. A home, a life - a second chance at everything.

It’s been almost two years since the panopticon collapsed in an explosion, almost two years since Jon and Martin woke up… Here. “Somewhere else” they called it then, but now they simply call this place “home”. More precisely, they do so because first and foremost, they are home to each other.

Even back when in the Institute, when both of them successfully managed to convince themselves their feelings for each other were one-sided, the few and far moments where they actually had time to themselves were precious. Even when Jon had woken up from his coma and Martin was working for Peter Lukas, just a small brush of hands or a quick hug in the hallway had felt like the only safe place left in the world. Just for a moment, before they had to move on, more alone than ever before.

By the time Martin was deep in the Lonely and Jon had pulled him out, taken his hand and not let go until they were safely in Daisy’s little safehouse in the Scottish Highlands where no one would be able to find or hurt them. Or at least, that had been the plan… It only lasted for a little while.

Still, even though the end of the world started there, the days and weeks they had before are precious to Jon and Martin to this day. It’s those weeks where they had a chance to really get to know each other, outside of work and countless terrifying encounters with the Fears.

Days spent talking in front of the fireplace, curled up around each other or not talking at all. Especially on the bad days, when everything hits them at once, it is a little bit easier to deal with everything while they’re together. Cooking together, stepping around each other in the kitchen when they tried recipes neither of them had ever tried before, laughing at and playfully chiding each other when everything turns into a big mess.

Hugs and kisses shared at the most random of times, just because they realized they can do this now.

Over time, they shared a few personal bits and pieces. After the first time they shared the bed, to be close and to keep the nightmares at bay, they started talking about their needs and boundaries.

“I love you, and I love being close to you. But I, I also need you to know that… Well, I won’t be able to give you more than this. I don’t… sleep with people. In, well, in that sense.” Jon had blushed and stammered his way through explaining what Asexuality means to him, and it is met with love and acceptance. He started to breathe a little bit easier then.

A little while later, Martin told him about the disaster that was his coming out to his Mum. He didn’t mean to, he said that day in the safehouse with a bitter smile as he shook his head, but he’d hit a breaking point. One too many homophobic remarks, one too many unhappy sneers.

“One day, I just. Snapped. Couldn’t take the bullshit anymore. I don’t even remember exactly what I said to her, but she was... “ Martin shook his head.

“Not happy.” He laughed, but it wasn’t happy by any means. Jon understood all too well, and reached out with one hand, an offer to hold on tight, which Martin happily took him up on.

“She didn’t… Like me very much before, I don’t think. Or, well, I know that now, but… But ever since I told her I am gay, that certainly didn’t help things. She never met any of my boyfriends or anything, but, well. That’s robably for the best.”

Only a short while after this conversation, the world ended. After months and months of walking through a hellscape, they finally arrived back in what once was London. Back at the institute - the tower of the Watcher.

Once they got their chance to kill Elias and destroy Jonah Magnus, things… Went differently than planned.

Even years after the fact, long long after, Jon and Martin wake up from vivid nightmares. The memories, both real and twisted, leave them sobbing and calling out for each other. Each time, they end up wide awake for hours, holding onto one another to try and keep the other from getting lost again. Dealing with everything is very much a work in progress.

Guilt eats Jon up from the inside. He is talking about it, at least he does now, but the feelings are still there, sitting on his chest and taking his breath away. The guilt about walking off on his own and leaving everyone else, including Martin behind is one of the worst he’s ever felt, and even though they have talked and worked through this particular issue for a long time, Jon is still struggling with it. The main problem is that didn’t see another way, did what he thought was best. Now he knows there wasn’t a right decision in the situation they found themselves in, only damage control.

But on a personal level? Yes, he screwed up, and he knows it.

The scar on his chest hurts those nights, like a fresh wound. Jon finds himself clutching it, without even realizing that he is doing so. If he was, he would try to stop himself from it, but every time his hands rub over the place in the middle of his chest, when breath leaves his lungs for a while, he can tell that Martin’s eyes go blank and he hates himself a little bit more for having caused so much pain. .

How often Martin wakes up in the middle of the night, dreaming again and again about that fateful day that ended with him stabbing the love of his life with a knife, he has long lost count. But it hurts, worse than anything else, and the memory alone sends him spiralling for a long time.

If the Fears had any more power here, there is no doubt that Martin would find himself surrounded by thick, white fog those nights, cold and damp and utterly alone even with another person in the room.

He’d spent months - years really - keeping it together just to keep going, doing what needed to be done and be there for the people around him. It’s what he’s always done, isn’t used to anything else, but Jon knows him well enough to recognize the signs and stop Martin before he destroys himself any further.

“Let me take care of you. Please - You don’t have to keep going all the time.”

Somehow, even with all the trauma and heartbreak, the two of them manage to form one functioning human being together when they can’t manage to be one on their own. On the really bad days, that is enough.

Martin and Jon have their hiccups - but they know just how much they adore one another, and that is usually enough to make them see reason even when things get hard.

Especially in the first few weeks Somewhere Else, there is a lot of confusion and pain. Years of trauma and injuries they are unable to explain to anyone, because how do you explain even a fraction of the fears and the apocalypse they have walked through? None of it has happened here. This is a world that has never ended, and although the Fears certainly exist here, they are in the shadows, where they belong. As far as they can tell, none of the rituals have happened here, and the entities just. Exist, but don’t do nearly as much harm as Jon and Martin have experienced.

So seeking out help, let alone from professionals, is hard. Lord knows, they need it - it takes the two of them countless trials to find individual therapists for themselves, and even longer to find one to attend for couples counseling who won’t make their skin crawl with anxiety. There are issues that need to be addressed, and it is hard to start somewhere.

Some sessions are much, much harder than others. Unpacking the baggage is logical, it is something that needs to be done in order to deal with the trauma, but for a long time, it just hurts. It hurts, having to open up about things that are so deeply personal, and even though both Martin and Jon have come up with cover stories for their situation, they still have to work on all the emotions and the things that happened to them and their loved ones.

Some days, either one or both of them will come home from a therapy session and simply collapse into bed. Most times, all they want then is to hold each other. Other times, they talk, but more often than not, being able to listen to each other's heartbeat as they shake apart or fall asleep from exhaustion is enough.

Especially at first, when everything is still fresh, when the scars are still pink, raised and puckering, things are hard.

Surprising no one, coming from a literal hellscape into a normal, relatively calm world, is a total whiplash. Things are tense between Jon and Martin for a bit. They want to stay together, because they love each other deeply - there was never any doubt, not even a bit. But there are some situations, issues and decisions that they need to adress.

While things are still sore, it results in a number of exhausted, tearful arguments that leave both of them absolutely drained and limp from overwhelming sadness. The arguments themselves never last long, because both Martin and Jon are quick to make up and apologize after, but the feelings of exhaustion and heartbreak stay for long after.

The arguments pull on wounds and it hurts. There really is no other way to put it. More often than not, Martin and Jon spend the night with no sleep, wrapped around each other so tightly it is almost painful. Holding onto one another is all they can do sometimes to keep each other from falling apart at the seams.

Weeks turn into months, months turn into a year and so on. Both Jon and Martin have come a long way since they arrived here - they no longer call it “Somewhere else”. Their trauma still sits deep, but has become much, much more of a quiet background pain that occasionally comes out to play, rather than being a constant, stabbing sensation that leaves them bleeding and breathless, unable to function. Those days, thankfully, have become rare.

They start to live, instead of just surviving.

It is around that time that they decide they want to get out of the city. London, whether back in the old world or here, is not a quiet place to be, but now that they are free, they take the opportunity and run with it.

A little bit of time passes, and between days spent walking hand in hand through the nearby park, nights curled up on the couch with books and tea and day jobs and even occasional evenings in the pub with coworkers, they find themselves standing in their empty apartment. All there is left is a single cardboard box and a potted plant, both of which are held by the two men who spent the last year and a half there.

“...Jon?”

“Yes, Love?”

“I had no idea we had so much stuff, until we started to pack it all up.”

“We do. I’m… Not entirely sure when that happened to be honest.”

“....I believe somewhere between us starting to actually do things, and you discovering that tiny bookshop which I’m convinced should have been empty by now, thanks to you.”

“Yes. And also the plants. Don’t forget your leafy children, Martin.” Jon leans into Martin’s upper arm for a moment, a small smile on his face. He would have pulled him into an embrace, but since Martin holds the last of their moving boxes, filled to the brim with books, and Jon’s arms are currently wrapped around the pot of a fairly tall dracea, just leaning in must be enough. The plant pokes far over his shoulder, long, dark green leaves lazily moving with him as he holds onto it, tight and secure.

‘Martha’ says a small, handwritten label on the pot, carefully stuck near the edge of the pot. Giving the plants human names had started out as a joke, a throwaway sentence, but then they bought more and more plants, and so a new tradition was born.

“...To be fair, I had no idea there were so many until we had to get them all into the van.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of space in the new house that looks empty. Not for long though, knowing you.”

Martin smiles at him, propping the box against himself. This thing is heavy - as small as their old flat is, it hasn’t stopped Jon from starting to form their own library throughout the living room. Truth be told, he is looking forward to seeing it expand once they’re settled into their new space. It'll be a fun opportunity to bicker over the proper way to sort them.

(“By colour ?? Martin, Dear, Love of my life, what the fuck . You’ve worked in a Library for years!” Jon will ramble on in disbelief, and Martin will cackle to himself, knowing he managed to rile his boyfriend up about something that isn’t important at all. He knows they actually agree that books need to be sorted by Author’s names. But where would be the fun in admitting that right away?)

“Ready to go?” he asks, and waits for his partner's affirmative nod before the two of them leave the apartment, for one last time.

It’s time for a new chapter in their new life, and they’re more than ready to start it.

The first morning in their new house, they are woken up by a fresh breeze coming through their bedroom window. It carries the scent of pine needles and damp earth with it. The birds outside are already singing the song of their people and have been doing so for hours, long before most humans are conscious. Waking up like this is bliss, even though the bed is about the only thing that is actually done in this room.

There are boxes everywhere and their wardrobe is only halfway assembled, but the bed is comfortable and decked out in fresh covers that still smell of washing powder. Everything is fresh and new and feels a little bit like they’re on a holiday. Maybe someday, it will become their new normal, but as of now, it feels like a fresh start.

As always, it’s Martin who wakes up first. He can smell the fresh, woodsy air, and it relaxes him in an instant. There is a small forest right by their house. It is at the end of the street where only a few more old, slightly lopsided houses are nearby. It is perfect for them.

On their search for a new home, it was clear they wanted to go somewhere more rural, somewhere remote. Ever since the Lonely, Martin is struggling with too many people around him. He can go about his everyday life if he has to, but days with too many people and too much social interaction leave him sad and exhausted from pretending to be fine and peachy with it.

It doesn’t help that many of the houses they looked at are seaside cottages. As beautiful as they look on the photos, conveniently taken on days with clear blue skies, this is England. There are way more rainy days filled with grey, suffocating fog, and that alone is enough to send Martin back into a full blown panic attack. It’s too much, way too much like the Lonely. Needless to say, they filtered their searches accordingly.

Eventually, everything clicks into place and they find their dream house in a small residential area with little traffic and even less people. The quiet of the countryside makes both of the breathe easier- it reminds them a little bit of their time in Scotland, even though the landscape isn’t nearly as raw here. They may or may not have found a field of very good cows nearby though.

The cool breeze of the morning air makes Martin shiver a bit, and he pulls the covers a little bit tighter around himself and Jon. Predictably, his partner takes this as an invitation to adjust his octopus grip that he has around him to get even closer as he sleepily grumbles,

“...Just five more minutes.”

“Make it an hour and we’re good, Love.” With gentle fingers, he starts to detangle the long strands of hair that surround Jon. There is even more grey than there was only a few years ago - no surprise, what with all of the stress and trauma they have lived through.

All that Martin gets in response to this is a low hum as Jon tightens his hold around him once more as he breathes a small trail of kisses along the side of his neck and up his jaw.

He knows that Morning-Jon is not talkative, at all, but he knows him long and well enough to understand what he is telling him, even when he is half asleep himself.

“I love you, too.”

#Archival Pride 2021 #banashee writes #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #JonMartin #Post mag200 #TMA season 5 spoilers

15 notes · View notes

composereggwrites · 4 years

Text

Oh hold me close, there’s nothing here which Chokes

Fandom: The Magnus Archives Rating: T Characters/Ships: Alice “Daisy “Tonner & Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims Additional: Non-Sexual Intimacy, Shower Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, brief panic attack, Fluff, sharing a bed Author’s note: Written for a gift exchange! This is for @osirisjones!

Summary:

It starts after the coffin. After the nightmare of TooCloseICannotBreathe. Finding yourself pressed against another is far more comforting than the rough rock and stone, or grime of dirt.

Showers remind Jon a bit too much of what it's like to not be able to breathe.

Daisy understands. Martin has his own issues with the feeling of mist in his lungs.

Ao3 or Below!

It starts after the coffin. After the nightmare of TooCloseICannotBreathe. Finding yourself pressed against another is far more comforting than the rough rock and stone, or grime of dirt.

It starts with Daisy declaring that she's going home to shower now because it's been a week since she's done so, and the sensation building up on her skin is a bit too much like being buried. It starts when she looks at Jon and says, "You look like you could use a shower too."

He grimaces, looking at her from his seat at his desk. "Probably. Hard to take one at the institute, though, and I haven't gotten around to getting a new place. I got uh... Evicted, during the whole six-month coma thing," he says, sheepish smile on his face as an explanation.

An eyebrow raises, as she gives him a Look. Which is probably fair, considering she’s got her stuff and a place already, even though she was gone longer than he was. Jon never claimed to be functional. “Yeah, and what have you been doing all this time, then?”

“It’s remarkable how well you can keep clean, given some no-wash shampoo, body wipes, and time alone in a bathroom here. Plus, there’s a laundromat not too far away,” he says. It’s true, he can manage just fine like this. He has to, as his life spirals ever more out of control, less time and mental energy able to be dedicated toward tasks such as cleaning. Even if he prefers it that way.

A familiar hand joins his as Daisy rolls her eyes, and pulls him out of the chair. “Well, that won’t do. You’re coming back to my place and taking a proper shower, Jon.”

She doesn’t give him a choice. No chance to protest as she drags him out of the institute. In a way, that’s easier than having to confront the idea that he wants this.

Everything is fine. He keeps repeating that in his head with each step. Daisy’s warmth bleeds into him from their connected pinkies, a pinpoint prick of security as they walk to her apartment.

(Neither of them take the trains through the tunnels nowadays, if they have the choice to avoid it.)

It’s a silent walk. Jon keeps his eyes on Daisy, and she keeps hers on the path they follow. The hunter knows the way home, and the watcher knows better than to let his eyes stray to targets, to food, with her so close by.

“Order some food while I take my shower. You’re crashing here tonight, and don’t think about trying to argue your way out of that,” Daisy says, as she unlocks the door and bustles around. He diverts his eyes as she grabs fresh clothes and steps into the bathroom of her single-bedroom apartment.

It’s…

Not as utilitarian as he expected, in all honesty. Photos of her and Basira hang on the wall, blankets draped over the couch. It’s not warm or cozy, but neither is it barren of signs of life. He can hear sounds of the Archers coming from the bathroom, indistinct through the walls.

Jon sits on the couch, and orders pizza. Tries desperately to distract himself with mindless phone games. Tries to ignore the lure of the owner of a shop they passed on the way here, who has a statement fresh for the picking. Tries not to Know about anything in this apartment, what stories and fears might lie under the false comfort of a quilt. What the pictures might hide.

When Daisy emerges precisely ten minutes later, hair still damp and looking far more refreshed--though she still has bags under her eyes, like all those who work in the archives--she’s wearing casual sweatpants and an old t-shirt for the Archers.

“Got us pizza, since I know what you like on it. Half and half, because you refuse to accept pineapple on it.” A grin flickers on his face, and he gets one on return.

“What blasphemy, putting fruit on a pizza! I’ll stick to my pepperoni and extra cheese, thank you.” She rolls her eyes as she speaks, and steps into her room, door left open so they can continue speaking.

“It’s really quite good. You just can’t grasp the intricacies of it!” he shoots back. An argument they’ve had a hundred times before flowing freely from his lips. He knows all the lines, like they’ve rehearsed.

The fun in arguing dies on his lips.

She tosses some old clothes at him, and he knows (not Knows) that they’ll be slightly too big and baggy, because he’s stolen clothing from all his assistants at this point. The resident laundry thief’s work is never done.

(It’s grounding, having pieces of the others to carry with him. His favorite is Martin’s hoodie).

“Go shower, Jon.” Daisy slides down onto the couch as he stands. No doubt she’s tasted the shift in his mood in the air, bitter on her tongue.

He takes the clothes and walks into the bathroom. Small, yellow walls. There’s a fresh towel on the rack already, so he sets the clothes on the counter and slips in.

The spray of water is a blessed relief compared to the days of rubbing and scrubbing away at the dirt building against his skin. Heat seeps into his aching muscles and world-wracked soul. Washing away the damage wrought. The layers of soil walls crumbling down.

It’s humid. It’s hot. The room is small. The steam makes breathing hard.

Jon huffs, and focuses. He just. He needs to ignore the unsettling feeling growing in his stomach, the fear that lingers like mint, there no matter how hard you try to kill it. Invading where it is not meant to be.

The mist coils around his lungs. Damp skin sticks as he bumps against walls. The shower is so small, how does Daisy survive it all?

A knock at the door is what makes Jon realize he’s knocked over the bottles, crouched on the floor. Hands embedded in his half-shampooed hair.

“I think I might actually get in trouble if you die in my shower. You alright in there?” she calls, door opened a crack so he can hear, though the curtain is still solidly in place.

Daisy’s voice washes away the suffocating anxiety better than any water could, and he takes a breath. “Yeah, I-- Ah. It felt… small. Difficult to breathe. You know…”

And she does know. She must, because she slips into the bathroom, and he can hear the toilet lid being set down so she can sit. “It’s why I play sounds on my phone.”

He snorts, and manages to get his legs back under himself, standing again. “Harder to lose yourself to the fear of choking when there’s a soap opera to listen to?” he asks, tone wry.

“Oh hush. You ought to try it.” She’s laughing, and he can picture the roll of her eyes as he washes out the shampoo. It’s easier, with another presence here. The heat is less oppressive, not trying to pierce his skin. Instead, it simmers and soaks, driving out the icy cold.

“I--I think I’m good now.” It slips out of his mouth, even as he wishes to swallow the words, to beg for company until he’s done.

“Well, I think it’s rather fitting. Soap opera for when you’re all… soapy. So I’m going to start the next episode you were on, since you’re so woefully behind.”

It’s hard to not laugh when Daisy makes a bad pun, and he doesn’t try to hold it back. Doesn’t stop himself from listening to the absurdity, talking with her about the drama and plot as he works to scrub his body clean.

When he steps out of the shower, smelling of her lavender products, Daisy politely averts her eyes until he’s dressed. Then she links their fingers together once more, and they trot out in time to catch the pizza man.

Jon Knows later, as they sit and eat their pizza with dramatic flair, held loftily above their mouths sprawled out on the couch and each other, that the delivery person thought they were a couple. When he mentions it to Daisy, she cracks up, and he joins her, pausing the episode they were on.

“Us? A couple?” she repeats, for the tenth time. “Like, no offense Jon, but even if I were into guys, you’re not my type.”

“Some offense taken,” he replies, free hand held to his chest. “Oh how scorned I am by your rejection! You like Basira well enough, and she’s good at being a stuffy academic.” The air quotes are audible, dripping from his tongue as he takes another bite.

“She’s an academic who knows how to shoot a gun. Got more muscle than you could ever dream of, bone boy,” she shoots back, elbowing him in the side. Taking care to hit where there’s still ribs.

“Ah, I see. With my bountiful eyes.” She snorts, because if he actually had extra eyes, she’d be the first to know. “You like someone who you have a chance of losing to in an arm wrestle. No wonder I’m so woefully disqualified.”

“I’d let her do more to me than win an arm wrestle.” Daisy waggles her eyebrows.

When he processes what she means, Jon lets out a long, drawn out sigh. “Every day. Every single day I am bombarded by innuendo. When shall I be freed from this curse?”

“Whoa there, no need to bring the Sahara into my apartment with that dry tone, Mr. Sandman.”

“Wrong entity. How dare you accuse me of being aligned with the Dark?” He has to set his paper plate down, or risk dropping his food at this point, with the amount of laughter going on.

“Whatever, eye guy. Let me braid your hair once we’re done eating. Maybe now that you’re cleaned up, your prettyboy looks will lure your man out of the fog. I bet he’d love to win an arm wrestle against you. He totally could, too.” She gestures at him with the pizza slice, smirk across her lips.

Jon stammers, hiding the blush creeping up his cheeks behind his hand. “I--uh. Ah. Daisy-- Even if... Even if you’re right, I--”

She softens into a smile, and puts a hand on his arm. “I’m sure you can ace your way into his heart.”

Two seconds of silence.

Then giggles, as he covers his mouth with a hand. “That was-- That was awful. That’s the type of joke I’d be making in uni!”

“Unless my puns are bad enough to drive you out of my apartment, I stand by the offer. The only condition is that you’ve gotta braid mine, too.”

He takes another bite as he ponders it. Really, the answer he wants to give is on the tip of his tongue, but-- Denying himself what he wants is habit, ingrained in himself by now.

Still, it’d be nice.

“Sure, why not,” he says. “Hair braiding and listening to The Archers. Sounds like the perfect night.”

The couch is comfier than the Archives, that night. Daisy’s apartment warmed with the small spark of vanilla candle friendship.

In the coming months, it’s easy to make a habit out of this.

----

Collapsing into bed at the safehouse the night they arrive is one of the easiest things Jon has ever done, and that’s counting the amount of time it takes to get Martin to join him. They both still smell of sea salt and taste of fog, but he pulls Martin into bed with him despite the ever-constant protests.

“Martin, it’s fine,” he murmurs. “We’re both tired, we can share the bed. Hell, Daisy and I have shared a bed before, at her place.” It’s out of his mouth before he can think to stop it, and one hand goes up to the messy braid of his hair, from just two days before.

“O-oh. You and-- and Daisy?” Martin asks, paling a bit in the moonlight. Eyebrows scrunched together in the most adorable way that makes Jon want to reach out and run his fingers through Martin’s hair. “I didn’t know?”

“Because there’s nothing to know.” It dawns on him that he can do that. So he reaches up, and cards his fingers through the messy strands of reddish brown. “It was-- it was a friend thing, nothing more. A couple times a week she’d drag me to her place, and really, it was-- It was easier in the end, to just share the bed. Rather than have me sleep on the couch. Helps me deal with the nightmares, if I have someone there. I figure… If you have any, it might be the same.”

It’s enough for Martin to soften, and stop looking so jealous (which, now that Jon can recognize that, he finds it touching). He slides into bed without any more fuss, and soon enough Jon finds himself wrapped up in Martin’s arms. All pretenses of pretending to not want to cling immediately dropped.

Sharing a bed with Martin is different from sharing one with Daisy, he discovers that night.

With Daisy, they link hands, arms intertwined, and lay back to back. Neither of them were inclined to spoon, and he knows suggesting it would’ve gotten a joking threat with a knife (nothing like before, no real danger in her words, and she would’ve grumbled but wrapped him in her arms like she did when the nightmares got too bad, and they needed more contact).

But with Martin…

Martin is full of warmth, despite the wisps of fog that still want to encroach. At some point in the night, between becoming an octopus and clinging right back, Martin rolls over on top of him in his sleep, and Jon melts.

Martin is a solid, heavy weight against him. Grounding him to the mattress. Jon still catches bits and pieces of nightmares, but the pressure isn’t oppressive, not near as much as he feared. A spark of terror in his heart, at first, but all he has to do is open his eyes and see Martin there. Another person, not the dark-dirt pressing-walls of Choke. He thinks, perhaps, that the fear has receded, if he can handle this.

It’s only on his way to shower the next morning, that the terror comes roaring back. Gripping his heart and making him pause outside the bathroom door. He can hear Martin singing in the kitchen as he bustles around, cleaning up the breakfast mess.

But will it be enough?

He takes a breath, steels himself and turns the handle. Prepares to face this.

And then stops, turns his head, and calls, “Martin?”

Martin must hear the waver in his voice, sense the way Jon is a rubber band pulled taut, because he immediately drops what he’s doing and comes to Jon’s side. Sees the way he’s shaking, ever so slightly in his skin (skin that still doesn’t feel like his after what Nikola did), and places a hand on his shoulder. Soft, tentative, as he asks, “Are you alright?”

“I-- I’ll be fine, it’s just…” He could still turn back, say it’s nothing, though Martin would still worry. And…

He’s safe with Martin. Just like he was safe with Daisy.

Safe enough to ask for help.

“The uh-- The reason I went to Daisy’s so often was because I needed to shower, but the feeling. I hate cold showers, but the steam made it harder to breathe. And I needed-- It helped if someone was there, with me?”

He looks up at Martin, and confusion-fear bubbles in his stomach when Martin laughs a little, but it’s quickly abated by his words. “I was actually thinking of asking you for the same thing? It’s just, for me… Being alone in a room full of mist doesn’t seem like a good idea?”

Jon chuckles, though it’s quickly cut off when he slaps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, sorry, that was-- You’re right. I’d be glad to be there for you, Martin,” he says, and it’s amazing how a few simple works make Martin light up. The blush against his cheeks is something Jon feels he can be proud to put there, now.

“Might be best to take one at the same time. I don’t know how much hot water this place has,” Martin says, before immediately backtracking. “If you don’t want to though, I understand!”

He shakes his head, and pulls Martin along with him into the bathroom. “It’s fine with me. It makes sense. Amazingly, this place has a bigger shower than Daisy’s apartment. And I’m thankful to find that there are no bloodstains on the tub here, either.”

Martin snorts, and Jon smiles. He takes out the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash from his bag of toiletries as Martin undresses, making sure that there’s a clean washcloth as well.

It’s a bit cramped, but they have enough space to navigate. The bump of their bodies against each other is reassuring too. Silent moments of I’m here and you’re not alone, you’re not going to choke on your own fear.

At some point, he finds himself helping Martin clean his back. Slow, methodical scrubbing. At another, Martin’s hands are in his hair, combing through the strands as the conditioner makes it silky. When Jon starts to sing a song, Martin grins, and sings along. As they sing loud and offkey--which is part of the fun--Jon thinks there’s no place he’d rather be.

(Later, curled up in Martin’s lap, in front of the lit hearth, he’ll have that thought again, as he presses a kiss to Martin’s lips.)

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #daisy tonner #alice tonner #alice daisy tonner #johnathan sims #Jonathon Sims #jon archivist #the archivist #listen to the quiet #jondaisy #magpod #MagnusPod #my writing #egg writes #fanfic

267 notes · View notes

centaurianthropology · 5 years

Text

The Magnus Archives ‘Scrutiny’ (S04E22) Analysis

Everyone who was hoping for a happy episode devoid of existential pain for both characters and audience might be disappointed. Because this? This was a painful sort of ride. Come on in to hear what I have to say about ‘Scrutiny’.

Youch. This was intense. Both the statement, and Martin’s reaction to it, as well as his interaction with Daisy were all punches to the gut. Well-written, and beautifully performed punches. But damn, this one hurt.

This is an interesting twist on the statement. Reorienting things from another random person’s perspective on the Buried, and on the Archivist. Finding out that Jon, wherever he goes, now knows that people have statements in them is something fairly obvious already. But knowing that he’s going out and demanding statements from random people on the street, dragging their stories out of them, is much more worrisome.

This is more than an addiction. This is the inhuman part of Jon getting stronger, encouraged by isolation and the pressure his colleagues have put on him to save the world. And it’s also a total outside perspective on what the Archivist is and what he does. And coming from her? Yeah, he sounds like a monster.

He sounds like he’s losing himself, and that what he did last week to the sailor isn’t at all out of character. This is what he’s doing, and has done since he woke up. And he’s had no one to reign him in or ask him to limit himself to old or voluntary statements. He’s had no one to make him recall why this would be the wrong thing to do.

On the contrary. He’s had no one but people like Basira demanding that he be more powerful, that he stop the other powers. He’s dealing with it like the Archivist, because he’s not Gertrude, who was cold enough personally to deal with it as herself. As a person, he’s too caring and too hesitant to do what he has to do. As the Archivist, none of that matters. So he’s indulging that part of himself.

And Martin is worried, but Martin is also … slipping in his own way. He’s finding not reaching out to be easier. He likes caring from a distance (always has), because that’s less likely to hurt him. And that’s twisting quite easily into the Lonely.

He wants to help, but he doesn’t want to go out on a limb. So Martin, also left with only the monster for company, is slipping in his own way. But unlike Jon, who slips into active hunting for stories and victims, Martin slips outward, toward nothingness and the comfort of not having to interact with anyone. Of not having to do anything or help anyone in any real way.

Which is why having Daisy turn up is hugely important. Because human connections are the only things keeping the two of them tethered, and Daisy now has a unique experience. She’s not only worked for Elias and has been a monster for the Hunt, but she’s accidentally come out the other side. She gets it in a way few others can. And she has a new sort of calm and understanding.

And that means that she can talk to the two of them in a real way, can reach them. Of course, now Martin actively resents trying to be reached, so he’s more confrontational and angry than he used to be. Even though he demanded not to be reached out to, he resents the fact no one talks to him. He resents that they think he’s working for the bad guy, even though he is.

In that way, I think Martin may have a lot more self-delusion than Jon does, and having Daisy be the one to point that out may be necessary for him to wake up and realize what’s happened to him. That when he gets frustrated with Jon for doing stupid things, it’s because Jon is as desperate for control as he is. That Basira is quieter, but no better, and will also throw herself into danger. That people like Daisy and Martin need to reach out, to hold onto them, because they will otherwise drift away and be lost.

And honestly? Daisy may be the only one who can reach Martin at this point. I was wondering how she so easily slipped in to see him even through the Lonely. And I think it’s because she’s now independent. She’s not viewed as a supernatural threat anymore. She’s just herself, and through that she’s filling the role Martin used to play: the unnoticed and unimportant. And that gives her power to reach the others.

And maybe it will give Martin the perspective he needs on how he’s changing, and the ability to take control over it. Being more assertive is good, but not if it means totally cutting himself off. He’s doing all of this out of love for Jon, but also losing any interest in actually being with him. That’s the trap of the Lonely: it’s insidious. It’s easier to only care from a distance, in abstract. It’s easier not to put yourself out there. It’s easier to wrap yourself in the cocoon of isolation and just let whatever happens to other people happen, and only care after the fact (because there’s nothing you could have done to help, you weren’t there).

Each power has a seductive quality, and this is the way the Lonely seduces: through comfort. Through ease. Through just letting it happen.

So, honestly, Martin’s assertiveness may be the best chance he has not to fall completely to the Lonely. Because he’s learning not to be passive. He’s learning to stand up for himself to Peter, and now he needs to do something even riskier: to reach out to someone he cares about.

Daisy may be the avenue to that. Through easing him back into inconsequential contact, she’s forcing him to KNOW what’s happening to Jon. She’s forcing him not to sit around assuming Jon’s okay because he hasn’t heard otherwise. She’s making him a participant again, and making him either chose to sit aside and let whatever happens happen, or to step back in. To not only put himself physically at risk, but emotionally as well.

I really hope this arc ends up with Martin embracing that risk. Because we’ve been with his character almost as long as we’ve been with Jon’s. And this is horror—nothing ends well—but I don’t want this to be Martin’s end. I want him to balance himself, to use this newfound strength, but not to have it be the sort of strength that only exists when he’s alone. Because there’s no triumph at all in that. There’s no choice and power that Tim was given, and that’s all I want for Martin in the end. I want him to be able to risk himself enough to give Jon and him a try. I want them both, frankly, to go down together in the end.

That one of the central emotional arcs of this series is a love story is something that surprised me. That it’s a love story that genuinely means a lot to me—that I enjoyed as fanon even before I realized they were making it canon—was also a surprise to me. But it works. Martin and Jon are the only pair of characters left from the original main cast, and they both have so much personal and supernatural baggage to overcome in order to even admit they feel something for one another. Even when it’s obvious to every other character.

I don’t know what power their relationship might have, in the grand scheme. I don’t think it has to have any great power. I think that the power Jon and Martin would have is the same power anyone else in a relationship has: someone there. Someone to ground you, and care about you, and hold you accountable. Someone to be your conscience even when you forget you have one, because right and wrong might be muddy, but anything that would lead to them never talking to you again is clearly unacceptable.

All the monsters who truly lose themselves in this show do so because they have lost all human connection. Agnes never truly became the living flame, because she gained a connection, and that was enough to derail the apocalypse. Helen isn’t slipping as fast as Michael because she’s keeping herself rooted to the Archives, to people.

Jon held on as long as he did because of his connections. It’s only now, with the Lonely’s intervention, that he’s sliding downhill fast. Martin has to recognize that on some level. It’s Jon’s isolation that let him do what he did to the engineer in this episode, and to the sailor the last episode. And he’ll keep doing it and sliding down into not caring, so long as there aren’t people around him that he cares enough about to reach out to him. Not as a tool, or as a savior, or as the Archivist, but as Jon.

And Martin might be the only one who knows him well enough, and has known him long enough, to do that. Martin needs to save Jon, but Jon needs to save Martin. They’re both sliding, right now, and the only way to stop their descent is to grab hold of one another. To hold one another accountable, even though it’s a risk on a whole different level than the self-destructive risks Jon’s taking now.

I hope Daisy got through to Martin. I hope Martin is shaken enough that he knows he has to step in before he loses the one person even anchoring him from a distance. Ny Alesund is rapidly approaching, with two self-destructive people hurling themselves into an unknown danger, puppeted by someone whose plans are opaque to say the least. If Elias is hoping for a sacrifice, both Basira and Jon may be in the right frame of mind to provide one. Jon is losing himself to the Archivist, to viewing people as tools and nothing more. Basira is doing the same for other reasons, but both of them might try to rationalize killing the other to save the world.

Martin and Daisy could anchor them, but it would force both of them to take the risk, both personally and emotionally. Even Daisy, who is being more emotionally honest, is terrified to risk herself physically, because it might mean losing herself to the Hunt again. So they’re both paralyzed, gaining some strength while lacking the critical strength to reach out and help.

But the thing is, they’re lacking the strength the other one has. Martin might be happy to risk himself physically, but fears the emotional vulnerability inherent in really reaching out to Jon. Daisy risks losing herself and her hard-gained independence again, but has the emotional strength to at least talk to people.

They need to rely on one another, because if they don’t, I have the terrible feeling that either Jon or Basira won’t be coming back.

#the magnus archives #analysis

107 notes · View notes

centaurianthropology · 6 years

Text

The Magnus Archives ‘Tucked In’ (S03E06) Analysis

The newest episode of ‘The Magnus Archives’ comes with a new perspective, a new narrator, and a new variation on an old entity. The combination of a nicely disquieting story and some good information about two of our characters rounds out a solid entry. Come on in to hear what I think about ‘Tucked In’.

First off, let’s talk about the story. Melanie took over the heavy lifting this week for a very nicely narrated, spooky story. I have to give Jonny Sims some kudos on his description of the body in the blankets, as that is pretty much what a 2-week-old body wrapped in blankets does look like. As for what it smells like … yeah, I could tell you that too, if you were interested. But for the sake of readers who don’t want to know what two weeks of hard decomposition smells like, I’ll give it a pass for now. Suffice to say, research for this show continues to be top-notch.

I have to wonder if the monster this week is related to Mr Pitch, the being that was worshipped by the People’s Church of the Divine Host. Certainly it seems related to the dark and to fear, both of which were the focuses of the People’s Church. If it wasn’t Mr Pitch itself, I imagine it to be another aspect to the Darkness. One that won’t actually strike until the fear fades, and it’s done having its fun.

It’s interesting that so far most of the aspects of the Darkness tend to speak. There’s chanting, and words, and whispers. The Darkness, despite being vast and hollow, isn’t silent. It’s alive with noises and movement. I don’t know if that fact is relevant to anything, but I did find it interesting.

As well as elaborating on the aspects of the Darkness, we got some good information about both Melanie and Tim. Tim continues to dodge actually doing narration duty. At this point, I have to wonder if this is some sort of instinctual fight against the influence of the Archive. After all, those who have narrated seem far more deeply enmeshed in the Archivist than he does. Could it be that some part of him knows that actually narrating a statement and giving the Archivist that foothold in him would be to truly give up the fight against where he is and what he’s becoming?

Tim is falling apart now as badly as Sims did last season. His despair and his anger are preventing him from doing … anything apparently. He’s choked by it, trapped by it, and utterly defeated by it. Everything we hear from him points to a man who can’t see a way out of his situation and hates it more and more.

If Sims’ character arc last season was all about how his paranoia was detonating his life, I get the feeling we’re going to be seeing a parallel story this season about Tim’s anger. The problem is that both the paranoia and the anger were rooted in totally justifiable places, but both rapidly spiraled out of control and into something that was indiscriminately destructive. So Tim is managing to both keep himself free of the tangles of the Archive by sheer force of will, while also potentially hurting those around him.

I think a big part of this stems from Tim’s background, and how it shapes how he views his situation. We certainly don’t have a lot of information about Tim prior to the Institute, but we do know that he came out of a good job that had a lot of professional promise. His only apparent prior connection to the supernatural was a fascination with Robert Smirke, but we don’t know if it was that which prompted his move out of publishing and into research. So unless there was some spectacular failure on his part that forced him out, he chose to move to the Magnus Institute to follow another interest. Out of all of them, really, he had the most choice when it came to working there. He’s the only one with consistent outside connections, and potential for a ton of other jobs, wheras both Melanie and Martin were more or less railroaded by the Beholding and circumstance into their current employment. But Tim had friends. Tim had opportunities. Tim had an active social life throughout season 1, though it’s unclear if he’s up to dating right now. But he was clearly a guy a lot of people got on well with. He was a good guy with a dorky sense of humor, and life was fairly excellent for Tim.

So imagine going from that to realizing you’re in a job that will likely kill you, and you can’t quit. Imaging being a guy who has defined himself by his independence, suddenly being very effectively caged. Imagine mourning a friend (while your coworker is stubbornly clinging to the idea that she’s still alive) you can’t even properly remember.

Tim fell hard and fast, and he hates it. He hates the helplessness of it, the fact that his ability to leave was taken from him, and because of that, he hates everything and everyone associated with the Institute. For a while I thought it was just Sims he was mad at, but hearing him talk about Martin? It’s everyone there, no matter if they deserve his anger or not.

Contrast this to Melanie, who is rapidly becoming a pragmatic highlight of the team. It turns out that, yeah, Martin did try to belatedly warn her about the Archives (Tim instantly jumped to him omitting that, pointing to yet more resentment from Tim regarding everyone around him), and she doesn’t particularly care. And you know what? I completely understand her perspective. Their world is dangerous for anyone who stumbles into the dark. Melanie got shot by a ghost in India, and bankrupted herself doing it. She only had this one way out. One job that would dig her out of being broke and friendless, and you know what? Being weirdly protected by an otherworldly horror as she does exactly what she had been doing before isn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s certainly no more dangerous than what she had been doing when she was independent. It’s steady, it’s a job, and she’s investigating the supernatural with way more resources at her disposal than she ever has before.

I that, I actually think Melanie and Martin have a lot in common. They both came from places of desperation when the Institute took them in. This job is, in many ways, exactly what they want. Martin understands it’s not for everyone, which was why I think he did try to warn Melanie. After all, Tim loathes being trapped in the Archives, and the last thing Martin needs is another miserable soul moping around the stacks when he’s barely holding the department together as is. And even though he doesn’t know her, he doesn’t want Melanie killed by some otherworldly horror, either. All the rest of the Archival staff is trying to protect her, and I don’t know if she hasn’t really understood how dangerous the Archives can be yet, or if she genuinely thinks that this is about equal to what she was facing before. I suppose the info-dump she’s about to receive from Sims might clarify that a bit for her.

But I think, even with the new information, she’s not going to shrink from this. Melanie isn’t miserable, and she isn’t helpless, and she needed this job. In spite of her new coworkers fearing for her safety, she’s actually handling integration into what the Archives does and what it is surprisingly well. She reacted to the statement in a similar manner to early-season-1 Sims: disbelief, but instinctual caution. And she might be far more practical and far less blustery than he was.

If she and Martin ever seriously talk, I think they’ll find that their attitudes regarding their situation are quite similar. The job isn’t the best, but then what is? Yes, they may well die doing it, but they could die for any reason at any time. Martin’s found something almost like a family in the Archival staff (or at least something close enough to a family that he’s willing to drag them the rest of the way to that concept), and Melanie can pursue a sense of purpose. Even assisting Sims gives her more information, and more direction for her own investigations into war ghosts.

The funny thing is, thinking about it, Sims is this odd bridge between Martin and Melanie on the one hand, and Tim on the other. Sims didn’t come from anywhere to miss. His life is marked by a lack of connection, and researching the paranormal was his only goal since the Mr Spider incident. So he came into the job like Melanie or like Martin. But he also resents and wants to quit the job, like Tim, since he’s seen how bad it can get.

But the thing is that, unlike Tim, that passion for research is still there, twisted into the addiction of the Archivist. He has to search and find information, yes, but he also loves it, even as he’s terrified by it. Of all of them, Jon has the most complicated relationship with his role and with the Institute, and if all of them were to ever really sit down and hash some things out, he might well be the best bridge between all their goals and desires.

By the end of the episode, of course, he did start reaching out. He was even practical about it. Reaching out to Melanie really does make the most sense. Tim loathes Sims enough to tell Daisy about him, Elias is pretty much 100% a murderer, and Martin ‘the closest one to Jonathan Sims’ Blackwood is definitely being surveilled by Daisy in hopes of finding Sims. I hope Melanie fills Martin in at least, and gets his cooperation. Sims is going to need more than one person on his side in the Institute, and Martin could be a great help. If Melanie could convince him it wasn’t safe to go and see Sims himself.

Conclusions

A solid horror story couched in getting to know Melanie a little better, and also getting a closer look into Tim’s mental state. Melanie continues to be acerbic and pragmatic, which makes me continue to really like her. Tim’s anger and frustration run very deep, and both are currently paralyzing him. I both look forward to and dread what happens when he finally finds an outlet for that anger. If it’s some sort of research in trying to find a way out of his contract, that might be hugely useful, but I worry that it’s going to be Daisy Tonner instead. I worry that, by the end of the season, Tim’s anger is going to get A LOT of people hurt. He and Sims really need to have a chat about unhealthy coping mechanisms. Melanie and Martin need to bond over still sort of enjoying their jobs. And Martin at least needs to know Sims is okay, if nothing more. Let him send Melanie with a sandwich or something.

#The Magnus Archives #analysis

37 notes · View notes