#THE FACT MAGNUS KNOWS HES DOOMING HIMSELF AFTER THIS BUT HES GOING TO DO IT AS A MARRIED MAN BITCH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

johnfulgure · 1 year

Text

Magnus and the Consequences of Unprocessed Trauma and Grief

As you may have guessed from the title, my opinion on Magnus as a character is that he is an example of what can happen when one does not process trauma (and grief) in a healthy manner. Additionally, I think he's intended as a warning against allowing said grief and trauma to consume you utterly. Let's try and pick this motherfucker’s brain, shall we?

Before we can really dive into it, though, we need to get an idea of the society from which Magnus comes. Magnus is a member of the ruling Reptoid caste: the Draconians. Specifically, he's a soldier and engaged to Gracelis, who is, in turn, part of the Draconian nobility. Keeping this in mind, Magnus also seems to have some connection to Emperor Coracoid. If I correctly interpreted Coracoid's line on page 908, Magnus might even be a direct blood relative of the emperor. (For what it's worth, my headcanon is that he's either Coracoid's nephew or grand-nephew.) Thus, the guy probably has a lot of sway among the Draconian elite.

If Magus is high-ranking, even among the high-ranking members of their society, it stands to reason that he has a lot to lose should he fall out of line. But Magnus revels in abusing the power he holds over others, you may say, surely there's nothing that could possibly tempt him into risking literally everything he has!

And that is where I say, Maybe. But maybe not...

What do we know about Reptoid, specifically Draconian, society so far? For one thing, they're very warlike and take great pride in that. It also looks as though marriages among the upper class are arranged. If they aren't, however, the feelings and opinions of female Draconians regarding their marriages/betrothals don't appear to be taken into account if Gracelis' situation is anything to go by. Reptoids also have an extremely strict social hierarchy that could spell certain doom for anyone caught breaching it or anyone born as a result of that disobedience.

Regarding Gracelis' impending marriage to Magnus, the fact that she's evidently stuck in this marriage implies that female Draconians as a whole don't really have much input or say about who their mates are if their parents— maybe more specifically, their fathers— and future husbands (and they will be husbands, which I'll touch on in a bit) are all for the idea. From here, we can conclude that Draconian society is not only very warlike and class-obsessed but also heavily sexist.

Sexist societies are often very fixated on gender roles and binaries. They will say, there are men and there are women and these are the only two genders, and there are certain roles for men and certain roles for women and they are rigid and will never ever overlap or change and that's it goodbye the end. They will say, men defend, women are defended. Men pursue, women are pursued. And, of course, if a society prizes men for their abilities to fight and defend and pursue, to be aggressive and not show their emotions because to be otherwise would be to compromise one’s masculinity, it wouldn't be out of the question to assume a society like this is also likely homophobic.

What does all this have to do with Magnus? Everything.

Which means it’s time to talk about the man of the hour himself.

To recap, Magnus is a (presumably) high-ranking soldier of the Draconian military, a (probable) relative of the emperor, and engaged to a noblewoman, with this potential marriage only increasing his social status. Again, the guy has a very far fall ahead of him if he fucks up. But what could possibly compel him to even want to fuck up in the first place?

Enter Longus.

Oh, Gus. Poor, poor Gus. He's a sweetheart, and his almost-love story with Brevis broke my heart. Even though I knew they weren't destined for a happily ever after, I still found myself rooting for him to get that hunk of Draconian beef, and when Brevis died, I grieved the lost potential along with Longus. The fact that Brevis never got to tell Longus he returned his feelings only makes the whole situation all the more poignant and tragic.

But I don't think Brevis was the only Draconian captivated by Longus' charm and looks.

It's never been explicitly stated in the comic, and I don't think it will be, but reading between the lines has convinced me that Magnus was/is in love with Longus. And I do think it’s love, not just lust. Let me explain why!

Firstly, the scene where Magnus finds Longus grieving Brevis is hugely telling to me because, like, let's be real here: if Magnus wanted to kill Longus, he would've done so then. His brother was dead, so there was no risk of incurring his wrath if he'd killed Longus, and the only person who would likely miss Longus would be Quazky, a member of the serving class with little to no sway in Draconian courts (if they even have a court system in place.) Magnus would quite literally have gotten away with murder if he'd killed Longus then and there. But he didn't; he even made Longus his servant, tying Longus to him and thereby ensuring, in some capacity, that he could keep him in his life. And that, I think, speaks for itself.

Of course, we can't ignore the violent attack on Longus. However, I think this is a manifestation of the trauma Magnus has endured and the damaging beliefs he has internalized living on the Draconian mothership. It's not meant to show that he's just a big piece of shit that has it out for Longus (at least not entirely lol), but rather that Magnus doesn't know how to deal with feelings and/or uncomfortable situations in a healthy way. To summarize, Magnus didn't kill Longus because, in spite of how much it obviously infuriated him, he couldn't bring himself to kill the man he loves. Longus was banished, but he was alive.

The next piece of evidence is maybe a bit more blatant, though it also comes with some implications you may not catch immediately.

He straight-up calls Longus "baby" here. I don't know about you, but I have a sneaking suspicion this isn't something Magnus just says to people. He's openly flirting with Longus, and there are probably two options here regarding Longus’ reaction: either 1) Longus simply doesn't think he's being serious or is otherwise mocking him, or 2) he’s still reeling from the loss of Brevis and being exiled from the mothership, and thus doesn't pick up on Magnus’ intentions.

On this page, Longus also mentions that sometimes, after a kill, Magnus would invite “comrades” that he wanted to impress to eat with him. (Part of me can’t help but wonder, though, if some of them were less “comrades” and more “one-night stands”.)

Here, however, it looks like they're alone, which is why Magnus said what he did on this particular page. He's offering Longus the chance to eat with him. On the surface, this may not seem like a big deal, but when you consider the fact that Draconians are obsessed with hierarchy, that Terrans are servants and should be treated as such, it becomes a lot more apparent why Magnus might have said this when it was just him and Longus.

Terrans are servants, and the Draconians are their superiors. It wouldn't surprise me if their society, besides all the other bullshit, also has strict rules about meals and who eats when. If I had to guess, I'd say that Draconians eat first and separately from Terrans, who are then given the scraps and tidbits from their masters' meals.

With this in mind, Magnus' offer to Longus doesn't seem so trivial now. He's inviting Longus to eat with him, i.e. essentially treating him as a sort of equal. I highly doubt Magnus would've done that if his feelings for Longus were purely carnal in nature.

Have I got you onboard the Magnus/Longus (Lagnus? Mongus?) ship yet? Good, because now I’m about to smash it all to pieces and explain why it didn’t work out!

There's one character I haven't really discussed in detail that's the main drive for Magnus doing what he does in the story, and that is, of course, his brother, Brevis. Magnus loved him, there's no doubt in my mind about that, but I also think their relationship was highly complicated and messy.

Brevis was Magnus' younger brother, so right away, Magnus was at risk of developing "eldest child syndrome": as Brevis' older brother, he would've been expected to set an example for him and live up to their parents' expectations, which was likely becoming a mighty, fearsome warrior. Of course, living in a warlike society, Brevis would have at least been expected to foster a taste for battle and bloodshed, if not rise through the ranks of the military. This being said, from what little we saw of Brevis, it's clear that he never reveled in violence the way Magnus did/does. Brevis was able to stay true to himself and not fall into the pit of toxic masculinity that his society demanded of him. But I'm left to wonder: how? How could he remain so compassionate in a world that was the complete opposite?

Which brings us back to Magnus and the "eldest child" matter. We can assume that Magnus felt pressured to give Brevis someone to look up to, but maybe there was more to this potential desire to become the "perfect soldier" than just providing Brevis with a strong role model. Brevis was kind and sensitive, which are certainly not traits that Draconian society values. In fact, they're traits that likely would've been beaten out of Brevis (maybe literally) as soon as possible unless nobody ever really picked up on them. I don't think it's too far of a stretch to suggest that Magnus gave everything he had and then some to turn himself into a killing machine to have all the attention focused on him so no one could see Brevis' "un-Draconian" characteristics. He hardened himself, and in doing so, he allowed his baby brother to remain soft.

We didn't see much of Brevis, but based on what we did see, I got the sense that he was much more in tune with his feelings and emotions than Magnus was and is. This self-awareness, along with his kind nature and good looks, is probably what initially drew Longus to him. I imagine Longus met Magnus around the same time he met Brevis: he may even have met Magnus first, depending on when Gracelis got engaged to Magnus and when she and Quazky became involved.

Maybe Magnus fell in love with Longus first, but because of trauma resulting from internalized homophobia and deep emotional repression, was unable to properly express his feelings, let alone act on them. This left Longus all ripe for the picking, so to speak, to be swept off his feet by Brevis, and Magnus, who might have destroyed his childhood to save his brother from being chewed up and spat out by the world, could do nothing but watch on.

For all the love Magnus had and undoubtedly still does have for his baby brother, I think he also despised and resented him: in Magnus’ mind, Brevis stole what should have been his. But when Brevis died, Magnus realized he would never get the chance to apologize to him, that the person he sacrificed everything to protect ended up dying anyway, and this sent him spiraling into a hole filled with self-destruction and violence that I don't think he'll ever crawl out of. He doesn't see Rose as a living reminder of Brevis' compassion but as a dark memento of what he lost and can never get back.

Magnus is alone— and he is alone; what he has with Roger cannot be called "friendship"— drowning in a sea of grief and heartbreak, and while I understand his trauma is in no way an excuse for the way he's acted, more than anything, I feel sorry for him. There is nothing left in him but bitterness and sorrow and rage, because in his society, to show your feelings is to show weakness. He was never able to truly process the loss of his brother and the “loss” of Longus, and it’s destroyed him. Whatever way his story ends, part of me will always wish that things turned out differently for him.

#this took me like 3 hours to write I'M SO TIRED WHY DOES THIS STUPID LIZARD HAVE SO MANY FUCKIN' PROBLEMS #trying human #magnus #eh might as well tag longus and brevis too #longus #brevis #THERE I'M DONE I'M GONNA GO WATCH THE X FILES NOW #th meta #please feel free to let me know if you'd like anything tagged #I know I joked about it in a previous tag but Magnus really is up to his horns in trauma and it does make me sad

27 notes · View notes

soundcrusher · 1 year

Text

A little fun is always allowed

Part 7 of the Spinoff set in the normal sentient Lost Light au ffrom is @cuppajj is out!

And as promised, it's a lot more lighthearted than the last one. :3

.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.:():.

“Is there a reason as to why the both of you are wearing cowboy hats and ponchos?” Asked Ultra Magnus Convoy, as they, and the crew members who wanted to visit the amusement park, made their way towards the entrance. “There is no need for you to wear it.”

“Maybe.” Answered Convoy. “But Snow and I have gotten used to wearing them whenever we visit a planet. We were hunted after all, and then there was the fact that I’m somewhat of a criminal where I am from. Although, with Rodimus Prime being officially dead, my charges have been dropped.” Convoy looked up at Ultra Magnus with a smirk, as he pushed his cowboy hat slightly up with his thumb. “You can never be too sure though. Also, it makes me look like bounty hunters or lone rangers from those old cowboy movies. And you don’t want to know how many dates this get-up got me.”

“You’re right, I do not want to know.” Was all Ultra Magnus said, before catching up with Megatron to discuss possible evacuation plans, should something happen. Leaving Convoy on his own. He didn’t expect his small plan of getting Ultra Magnus to back off to work, but it did. And Convoy was thankful for that, because it was weird to be talking to an alive Ultra Magnus. Especially when you know who’s underneath the armor and what has happened to his brother. From what Convoy could gather, they don’t know who exactly the DJD’s pet is, and he was unsure if he should even tell them. This universe operates differently, and who knows what them being here could do to it. Him telling them that the pet is Dominus Ambus could change some future outcomes. Maybe he would even doom this Rodimus Prime and his crew to an even crueler fate than he had, and he didn’t want that.

“Are you alright? You seem troubled.” Convoy looked at the one asking the question, and sighed as he saw Lightlost walking towards him. “Yea… although, I’m surprised that you’re taking your time to see how I’m doing. I was under the impression that you would look after your crew. Make sure that they aren’t walking too far away from you, in fear that they could escape your clutches. But I guess, with us being on your ship, you probably see us as your crew too. Lucky us.” Growled the prime, as he crossed his arms and looked over at Lightlost. And for a moment, something aching to guilt settled in his spark as he saw the cartographer's startled expression settled into a soft but somber one. And Convoy found himself growing frustrated as he stormed off to somewhere else in the amusement park. Most likely trying to find a game where he could let some of his bend up anger out.

And Lightlost looked after the prime with the same somber expression they held when talking with Convoy. They knew that he still needed time, their counterpart left too deep of a wound in his spark and mind, but still. Lightlost felt their very own spark ache for the darker version of their captain. Although, they were quick to put on a soft smile as they felt two smaller servos wrap around their left servo and softly pull it, before seeing the worried optics of Snow staring at them.

“Don’t mind Roddy, please. He doesn't like talking about ‘Them’ all that often…” Muttered Snow, as he softly started to tug Lightlost towards the Merry Go Round where Phoenix was already waiting for them. "He's a hypocrite too. Telling me to talk about what happened and try to heal, while he would rather go out and distract himself with another job. Pharma said that it could be because he's worried that talking about it could break him, which is stupid. Roddy is the strongest mech I know! Next to Tarn… and Softstreet…. And my mama! Oh! And Dominus, and Fungus, and Old Man and Pharma and…. And…." Snow stopped talking for a moment and looked up at Lightlost, before smiling sheepishly. "A-ah… S-sorry…. I doubt you would want to hear me ramble on about everyone I think is strong. Although, Roddy is still the strongest! And I don’t mean it literally, but more in a… hmmm… Yea. You know what I mean, right Light?”

“I think I do.” Chuckled the cartographer, as they looked at the youngling who was still clutching their servo and pulling them along like an excited, well, youngling. It was relieving to see the young spark openly talk to them. After their small talk, Snow seemed to have quickly warmed up to them. Yes, there were still times when the young spark would look at them in fear, before bolting off to seek out his Rodimus, but that only happened after an especially bad nightmare. And Snow would always come to them in the morning to apologize, and Lightlost would reassure him that everything was fine. That they weren’t mad at him for thinking they were their counterpart. When the nightmares weren’t that bad though, Lightlost would find Snow wandering the halls. Muttering to himself while clutching his shark, before they would make their holo-avatar appear next to him and spend the rest of the night with the youngling. Listening to his worries, or his retelling of the nightmares, before changing the topic to a more pleasant one. And then, when Snow had calmed down, they would lead him back to his room. Making sure the youngling was tugged in and asleep, before deactivating their holoform and resting themself.

And sometimes, when both Phoenix and Snow were together and getting up to some hijinks, they would join them. But only if the two young fliers would invite them.

“Hey! If you two get even slower, I’ll lose our spot!” Yelled Phoenix, as he waved one arm in the air. Letting some of his colorful smoke escape, to signal where exactly in the line he was. An action that caused Snow to pull even harder on Lightlost’s servo. “We’re coming! Cool your systems, before they overheat!” Answered Snow with a laugh, as they made their way towards Phoenix.

“Well, if someone wouldn’t dilly dally around, but rather come here faster, then that someone wouldn’t have to worry about my systems overheating.” Said Phoenix as he crossed his arms over his chest, while sporting a playful pout. “And I don’t even get a ‘Thank you’ for securing our spot. Not even after a very rude mech tried to steal it from me!”

Snow chuckled, before letting go of Lightlost’s servo in order to wrap his arms around Phoenix in a dramatic way. “Oh mighty Phoenix, I am so thankful that you have protected our spot in the line from evil mechs and the like. It must have been a true fight.” He said, as Phoenix let out an embarrassed squeak, before he tried his best to shove the other off. Which only resulted in Snow laughing, before he let go of his counterpart with a bright smile.

“Was that thank enough for you, oh mighty Phoenix? Protector of spots and defender of lines?” A small ‘Tch’ was all Snow got from Phoenix, before the line started to move forward again and they had to catch up, or risk losing their spot. Although, that didn’t stop the two young sparks from pickering back and forth about certain topics. No, it most likely encouraged them to keep on talking about how some of the Cybertronians in line were very rude for pushing them around or trying to cut in line.

And Lightlost couldn’t help themself but to chuckle at the display of ‘brotherly love’ both Phoenixes expressed towards each other. Who would have thought that these two would get along like a house on fire the second they warmed up to each other? At least Phoenix found another friend he could confide in. It sure enough made Lightlost’s happy to see their youngest crew member have fun with someone his age.

“Hey, Light, no daydreaming, it’s our turn!” Exclaimed Phoenix, as he waved his servos in front of Lightlost’s face to gain their attention, before grabbing Snow’s servo and running towards the Merry Go Round. Both of them decided that they would ride one of the bigger animals together, and as Lightlost tried to sit down on one of the benches around the Merry Go Round, they found themself unable to. Both Phoenix and Snow have come back and wrapped their arms around theirs. Pulling them towards a mechanimal big enough to fit three Cybertronians. At least this ride wasn’t as fast as the ones their captain surely was riding right now.

And after the Merry Go Round, it was off to the Ferris Wheel. Another slow moving ride that also gave a good view of the park. “Hey! I think that’s Ultra Magnus over there!” Exclaimed Phoenix, as he pointed over to a blue blob in the distance, who was confirmed to be Ultra Magnus by Snow and his binoculars. “Yea, Megatron is with him. Are the two usually together?”

“Eh, I think Magnus is just keeping an optic on Megs for some reason or another. You know? Making sure that he doesn’t run away, or something.” Answered the youngling, before taking Snow’s binoculars and looking through them himself. Spotting both Rodimuses boarding the ‘Blitzflügel’ and making a mental note to go there next. “Why do you even carry binoculars in your subspace? Are you some kind of bounty hunter or something? Your get-up would fit.”

“No. Right now, I’m working as a shepherd until I’m able to take the entrance exam for medical school. The binoculars are something I got from Fungus to keep an optic on the sheeps, or for bird watching.” Snow said, as he sat down next to Lightlost on the small bench in the middle of the gondola. “If you want to hear some bounty hunter stories though, you should ask Roddy… ehm… Convoy to tell you some. He’s one after all.”

“Wait? Convoy is a bounty hunter?” Asked Phoenix, which was met with a nod and a cheerful ‘Yep’ from Snow, before he started to tell his counterpart what exactly Convoy did as a bounty hunter and how he always brought his ‘assignments’ back alive, or how he would help kidnapped Cybertronians return home. Making Convoy sound more like an anti-hero rather than a straight up villain. Something that caught Lightlost’s interest, but they let Snow finish his small tale, before they asked their question of why Convoy usually talked about killing others, rather than saving them.

“Oh, that’s easy.” Said Snow. “He did the bad stuff before… you know…” The white and blue youngling shot his other version a small, unsure look, before quickly shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders as he saw how Phoenix was distracted by whatever he saw through his binoculars. “Before he met me. Convoy always says that, if it weren’t for me, he would probably still be killing them, but now… Others often comment on how different he has become. One of the people he works with often says how the old Rodimus Prime has died when… when…” Snow was looking down at his shaking hands. He didn’t want to think about his Lightlost, not now, not when he was having fun. No, he didn’t want the memory of them to overshadow him now, but before it could happen, he felt someone place their servos over his. And as Snow looked up, he could see the reassuring smile of Lostlight, and the dark shadow his Lightlost left behind slowly disappeared. For now.

After the Ferris Wheel, the three made their way over to the ‘Blitzflügel’, with both Phoenix and Snow wanting to ride it, while Lightlost was hesitant to get even near it. Something the younglings seemed to have picked up on, because both looked at them with worry filled optics. And Lightlost was quick to raise their servos and let out a slight nervous chuckle as they tried to explain how fast rides weren’t for them. But while Snow understood and tried to find a different ride, Phoenix shook his head and grabbed Lightlost and Snow by their wrists. “Nope, nu-uh. We’re gonna ride the ‘Blitzfügel’ together! We’re a crew, and a crew does stuff together! So, let’s go! Wam, bam and in the van, and all that!” And that’s how Lightlost found themself seated in a roller coaster cart behind the two younglings. With Phoenix getting excited with every inch he cart moved up towards the first drop, while Snow was clutching his doppelgängers arm tightly in an almost death-like grip. Although, after the first drop was over and the cart drove around, doing a few more drops and even one looping, the younglings were screaming their sparks out in excitement. Phoenix even threw his arms up, while Snow was clutching the railing. Lightlost on the other hand, wasn’t doing any of that though, but they still had fun on the ride.

“That was AMAZING!” Cheered Phoenix, as soon as they were out of the cart and walking towards the next ride. “Like, first it was up then down, then up again, and the looping! It felt like doing a looping in the air! I haven’t done one in years!”

“Yea! I didn’t think the ‘Blitzflügel’ would be this cool. If I had known that before, I would have joined Roddy when we first visited the park!” Snow chuckled, before he and Phoenix turned towards Lightlost. “And? How did you find the ride Light? It wasn’t too fast, was it? I mean, you didn’t complain, but still…” Asked the blue and white youngling somewhat concerned, although the concern was soon enough replaced by surprise, as Lightlost exclaimed how much fun they had on the ride. “I might not like fast-paced rides, but I have to admit, this one was quite fun. Maybe we should ride it again sometime.” And Phoenix couldn’t help but squint at the cartographer in something aching to disbelieve, or was it surprise?

Either way, something was different with Lightlost. Phoenix couldn’t tell what, but they seemed different. A lot more sparkly, maybe even youthful, kind of like when Fools Shot would do something he liked or that got him all excited. Whatever it was, Phoenix liked seeing Lightlost like this, because it made their aura a lot happier. “Alright, there’s another ride I wanted to check out. It’s not as fast as the ‘Blitzflügel’ but it’s still a fast one.”

“I’m okay with it, as long as we get to ride a slower one after this one.” Said Snow, which was met with a small groan from Phoenix, but the young spark didn’t say no. So, both of the younglings were quick to run off towards the next ride, with Lightlost having to keep pace, or else risking losing the two in the crowd.

“Phoenix, Snow! Not so fast! We have enough time for a few more rides!” Yelled Lightlost, followed by a laugh, as they quickly catched up with the two, before their servos were, yet again, grabbed by the younglings, as they pulled them along towards the next ride. Laughing all the way.

#sentient sg/lost light au #sentient lost light au #sentient lost light #lightlost #sg/phoenix #reg/phoenix #sg/rodimus #transformers #transformers oc #spinoff #everyone's having fun!#it's an amusement park after all #heh; if things keep on going like this #I might write a beach episode. XD #I mean; the spinoff is mostly for me to write some light hearted hijinks without worrying about bad stuff #okay; maybe some minimal bad stuff #either way; I hope all of you enjoy this one

16 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

my magnus finale and season five thoughts under the cut!

I’ll preface this by saying there were a lot of things I loved about this finale, and none of this is intended to start a debate or fight! It’s simply my feelings about what happened, and everyone’s entitled to their own (and entitled to love/hate what happened!). I totally respect how much others adored this and the wonderful art that’s coming of it. These are, again, just my own thoughts.

I really loved the first half of this. After Jon’s compliance in the last episode (that I found a bit troubling), I was really glad to see that he made the decision to confront Jonah himself and stuck by the idea of not dooming the other worlds. For one, I think it would have been narratively unsatisfying to have Martin be the one to kill Jonah- because let’s face it, while all the assistants have good reason to, this was really Jon’s confrontation to have. And I loved it! The conversation, Jonah begging not to die, and Jon saying - for Sasha, for Tim, hell, even for Gertrude. He never forgets Jonah’s victims or his own friends, and that’s such a core part of his character.

And I loved the statement. I was hoping we’d get one last one, and this one knocked it out of the park for me. Pupil!Jon is top hot Jon moments, and no I will not be taking questions on this. The soundscaping in this entire episode was brilliant.

I’ll start off by saying I understand narratively why the second half happened. It does make sense to me - that Jon’s final wishes end up being undercut by his love for Martin, and the last moments for me are desperately romantic and sad and lovely and I’m glad that they happened- it leaves so much room for us as an audience to decide what we think happened, and how to go from there. It’s a real gift to creators and though I for one will probably not be able to touch the finale for awhile, writing-wise, I am already itching to write some of my other projects!

But it happened so quickly for me. The pacing and change of heart is so about-face, mostly because of the situation- everything’s crumbling, we don’t really have time for much, if any dialogue. But Jon’s abrupt switch in plans when he was so committed to not dooming the multi-verse, the quick conversation of ‘oh we didn’t trust you so we already started going ahead with it,’ the whole thing was a bit rushed for me, and I think the pacing of this last arc has left a lot to be desired, personally. Again, I’m not saying it doesn’t make sense in its own way, I just don’t think the pacing of this season was the best that it could’ve been.

What also has been bothering me this season is Jon and Martin’s relationship (again, this is a personal take, it’s not something I expect everyone to agree with, at all). Martin’s not a character who was an initial fave for me at all, but I grew to love and appreciate him so that by the end of season four, I was really invested in Jon and Martin’s relationship and arc! It felt real and organic to me, and it was something to fight for. This stays mostly true for the first part of the season.

But then it gets a bit murky for me. We get the constant schtick of Martin going ‘a statement? Again?’ and this almost constant uncomfortable tension between him and Jon that never sat right with me. He wants Jon to not push any decisions on him, he doesn’t want to hear any statements, he wants his boundaries respected, but he doesn’t really do the same in regards to Jon. While I know the stress of the apocalypse is definitely a factor, it didn’t seem very ‘Martin’ to me, or at least the Martin that’s grown and changed since the first season. There’s a difference between going from being a wallflower to being assertive, and maybe because he’s never had a chance to really be confident and self assured, he doesn’t know how to do it in a way that isn’t a little hurtful. And while these can be normal and realistic parts of a relationship that are in some cases addressed, it’s realistic for me in a way that I don’t feel comfortable with. The way Martin is the one who pushes the ‘kill bill’ arc, especially in the Simon episode where he pretty much commands Jon to kill Simon, and his non-apology at the end of that episode (and the eventual fight where he accuses Jon of being the one to ‘enjoy it too much’). The time at Upton house that for me, is just uncomfortable knowing that Jon is actively dying and by the end, Martin doesn’t seem to realize it until he’s told (and then, when Jon says ‘was I wrong to hold off?’ Martin says no, that he enjoyed the time, and I just don’t think that Martin would ever condone that sort of self-sacrificial shit from Jon, as we see later on in the season!!). And then the fight, where Martin says some pretty awful and untrue things, and runs off with Annabelle- these are all things that could be forgiven, and are! But the apologies from Martin have all been lackluster with a tinge of ‘well I was right, wasn’t I?’ and the narrative doesn’t dispute that, and in fact seems to want us to side with some of his more (in my opinion) impulsive and not very great decisions. Jon very rarely fights back against him, and the times he has, its almost framed as if what he says/his transgressions are worse. I think if Jon acted in the way Martin did for some of this season, fandom would riot. But it's Martin, so he seems to get a free pass to act this way and have it be framed in a much better light. This is again, my own opinion about the text, I’m not saying anyone that disagrees with me is wrong. It’s just how it came off to me, and as someone who has been in relationships with similar sort of issues (on a very non apocalyptic scale, of course) it didn’t sit right with me.

So in the end, Jon goes off to confront Jonah on his own, which some are calling stupid or impulsive. But it’s not to me- this is Jon’s moral compass, and he’s sticking by it. For him to go along with the plan would be wildly out of character, and I’m glad he did this. The way it ended was ultimately satisfying to me, and leaves room for a lot of interpretation. But the way it got there wasn’t really what I wanted. And I say this as someone who really does enjoy jonmartin, and will continue to do so! I hope in a thousand fix it fics they get to talk and go to therapy and work on these issues on their own. But the way Jon and Martin’s relationship was presented over this season wasn’t comfortable for me, the trust issues and lack of communication was never resolved and I’m sort of disappointed with that overall.

I’m glad we got the ending we did, and I’m going to continue to love these guys for a good while yet. This is, again, not intended to start a debate, I don’t want to fight or engage with anyone like that because I really do respect everyone’s opinions on this season and final arc, and these are just my own thoughts. You are well within your rights to disagree with me on these things! But I just thought I’d share my own feelings about this last season. I’ve loved these characters for a really long time, and I’ve been listening since the end of 2017 so I have a lot of thoughts to sit with right now. But I’ll still definitely be writing and in this fandom for the long haul...especially if I want to reconcile the things I didn’t particularly vibe with xD

Hnnn back to my regularly scheduled posting, sorry for the long rambling thoughts.

#rye rambles #im not going to tag this obvi #but it was cathartic to write #sort of tma negative? but not an indictment of anything #because there was a lot to enjoy #but some things that really made me fjgfdkgl #feel free to ignore #this is long #i also tried to phrase this in the most non combative way possible and that may be annoying but i just dont need hate in my inbox tbh #this is all i will be posting about this cause i dont want this blog to be takes

130 notes · View notes

forgiveness-in-the-misery · 3 years

Text

Toki’s Psychological State Through the Seasons

Toki is by far for me personally the most interesting member of Dethklok; I know to some degree he’s deemed as a potentially over hyped character by fans and even the show itself, but there’s countless reasons why people cling onto that character, and they’re good reasons. Even if said reasons just come down to “I think he’s neat.” that’s valid.

For me I am so fascinated with his character development, personality, and the varied chunks of background information we get about him throughout the series. A big part of this character is that when you look at him in season one compared to season four he is very different or at least he appears to be much different. Season one does establish that Toki does have a childish personality, his bedroom looks more like a room for a kid than one for a guy in his 20s. Season one establishes those basic facts about him that do heavily carry out through the show, but also increase as the show goes on.

Toki goes from immature but not overly immature to....a complete fucking wreck by the finale of season four (before Doomstar) and the reason for it is simple; it’s trauma.

Toki starts to act differently in season one after the Dethfamily episode; he spends practically that entire episode in a catatonic state, his parents always looming nearby like figures of danger and doom. After this we do get to him being bitter about being seen as immature and seen as the kid of the band (despite the fact he was barely 16 when he joined Dethklok) and when a charity informs him that a dying girl wants to meet him he turns into a complete prick. He finally comes out of that when he sees a video the kid made of herself singing a song about death and hatred, with that scene we see a small flashback of Toki’s childhood; him about the little girl’s age standing out in the snow staring up at his parents looking confused and a moment later he’s being smacked across the face.

We could already gather beforehand when we found out he came from a very devout religious sect outside of Lillehammer that his childhood was sketchy, plus how he locked up when around his parents, but seeing the flashback of him being hit as a little boy.....Answers the obvious question of “did they beat him?”

Season one is the least eventful of the seasons. Season two is when shit begins changing drastically.

Season two Toki receives a call to inform him that his father has cancer and is on his death bed, the family and the church wants him to return to Norway to see his father. He acts completely fine about this initially, the phone conversation and the way he announces his father’s terminal illness to the band is as if somebody just asked to borrow his car. When it gets close to time to actually go and when they are in Norway it’s different though; he becomes anxious and clearly uncomfortable, in Norway he stays in town mostly, stalling around places he went to as a kid and a teenager before he ran off to America.

He does handle his father’s dying well once he finally convinces himself to go inside his house and see him then follow through with his father’s dying request to carry him up to his old childhood home (which goes wrong because his friend’s are dicks.)

I am not going to go into personal detail at all and my situation was nothing like Toki’s (it’s incredibly rare to hear situations like that anymore), but Toki handling his father’s passing freakishly well kind of was a red flag for me, because I know from my own experiences that when you find out something complicated like a terminal illness or the death of your abusive parent theres’ a chance you may respond way too calmly to it, and then later down the line days or months or years later something will trigger a big reaction to it. Which is what happens.

After handling his dad’s death well we get the most iconic scene involving Toki at that point and honestly still the most iconic; he beats a man to death with his bare hands. The thing that triggers this is a hallucinated image of a rabbit, an animal he associates both with his father and his childhood, the image of it triggers him to fly into an insanely feral blind rage taking it out on a guy who had been annoying him all night. Toki has always throughout the entire series shown signs of being a tad violent, but never THAT bad. Sure he shot down a plane and had accidentally caused a death or twenty (the whole band is, it’s part of the sacrifices to the Gods deal) but we had never seen him before or after that moment beat somebody to death. That is new and it came from a place of pent up....shit. Shit he never worked through and even after that continued to not work through.

Because after this we lead into him worsening further; he begins drinking. A lot. The band consist of dudes with addiction issues, mainly alcohol, but Toki never seemed to drink quite as much as them until after he went feral on that straight edge guy.

Toki deals with his childhood trauma in several ways:

He drinks. A lot.

He focuses on fantasy and daydreams to keep himself from focusing on his past.

He spends a lot of time with Dr. Rockso who takes advantage of his kindness often, he also spends gross amounts of money bailing his clown buddy out of jail. Constantly.

He occasionally gets violent, but never to the point of manslaughter.

Seasons three and four are when we get fully introduced to Toki acting like a kid more than a guy in his 20s and it makes sense. Toki didn’t have a childhood; we learn that his parents essentially made him into a slave at a young age having him do pointless “chores” like sweeping snow during a storm, carrying stacks of wood much too heavy for a small child, etc. and when he failed to work quickly enough or failed a task they punished him. They punished him by locking him in a shed, they punished him by chaining him up like an animal, they punished him by smacking him, by beating him with a bull whip, and worst of all (who knew it could get worse) they would force him to stay for long periods of times in a deep hole dug into the ground. A hole where he hid a clown doll made of twigs and straw, the only friend he had as a little kid.

From all that we can gather through the show he didn’t exactly have a social life of any kind until his teens, the older he became the braver I think he became, and that was responded to with worse violence from his parents. I think the statement in season one about a vision of father killing son wasn’t totally off, I think if Toki had never run away from Norway that his father would have murdered him. I think his parents knew somehow that he isn’t entirely human, they knew he was something else, and I do think his parents had plans to kill him before he could become “too powerful”.

That aside though.....Once we the audience as well as his friends find out far more details about his horrifying childhood Toki changes. A lot. He’d already been immature and a tad bit off but he regresses further after that, more prone to depression and outbursts, clinginess, and a need to feel like he’s loved by pretty much anybody.

This is a dude who is about my age that came to the horrid realization that any person or animal he loves will die because that’s his “gift”, the gift of death. He works his ass off to repress and rationalize a brutally nightmarish childhood, and the guys he’s in a band with who he loves and sees as his family....are dicks. We know that when he joined Dethklok before they got famous that they were all close, but when they began becoming popular and became immensely wealthy the others became more focused on self indulgence and power, less focused on this still a child who desperately just wanted a family.

I think a key factor with Toki being the way he is comes down to the band’s “no caring” rule. A rule that only existed because of Magnus. Toki is the baby in a group of people who have known each other for a good while, people who came to an agreement to not give a shit about each other for a reason they never explained to him because it’s too painful for them to think about. I think he always tried to live by that rule of not caring, he tried to bury all the shit wrong with himself the best that he could but he was never good at it. It’s also clear they all care about each other and they definitely care about Toki; Nathan and Skwisgaar often being the most protective of him.

In season four aka the season where the show becomes less of a comedy and more of a drama with stunning animation. Toki is immensely more immature and awkward, he’s clingy with the band especially where Skwisgaar is regarded. Near the end of season four he’s completely fucked up; he splits his time between Rockso (his comfort object) and Magnus (a father figure to replace Nathan) in the dinner episode which has so much going on in it. So much. Toki is at his lowest point in the series; he shows up late, drunk as fucking hell, shirtless, and covered in bruises and cuts. Rockso is with him and when Charles tries to tell him Rockso shouldn’t be there Toki goes into a full fucking anxiety attack until Charles tells him it’s fine to have the clown there. Toki’s heavily dependent on Rockso by that point; his found family is quickly falling to shit. God knows what kind of shit Magnus might have been feeding him about the band at that point.

Toki’s entire thing from day one/the pilot of the series is that he just wants a family. When he feels like he doesn’t belong in the one that he found and was taken in by he searches for family in other places, when he can’t handle the memories of his childhood he spirals hard. I understand that the guys didn’t really know how to handle it after they heard about Toki’s childhood so I can’t fault them completely for just.....shoving him off onto Rockso after that, but I still think they should have tried to be there for him more so, more directly. I think an outlet that isn’t a drug addled clown might have helped him in some way, I think if when he’d been a teenager if one of them had found out about his upbringing and just pointed out “that isn’t okay, at all.” then things might have panned out differently.

Mental regression isn’t uncommon when it comes down to victims of trauma caused by extreme abuse. Especially considering his trauma all occurred basically from the get go; he was a child slave, the closest I would guess he ever got to having a childhood when he was a kid was seeing other kids childhoods. Going into town and seeing kids playing, sneaking into birthday parties just to be around other kids his age, etc. and he definitely was childish as a teenager, but I think he tried to bury that side of himself when his bandmates started teasing him or pointing out how unmetal it all is.....But then a douche bag journalist brought his parents to America, a little girl died, his abusive father died horribly (as he should) in front of him, he beat a man to death (allegedly), etc.

He spent a lot of years away from all the trauma and the death and the bull shit then suddenly it started piling on top of him again and his escapism was fantasy, clinging onto a junkie clown, partaking in childish hobbies.....because why not?

Each member of the band suffered some messed up shit when they were kids and it shows in different ways, this is Toki’s way of dealing with it....or not. I’m not entirely sure what his psychological state would be post Doomstar; the way he bounces back from immense trauma makes me think that he would be okay given some time and that’s a safe assumption to make, especially now that his bandmates/family will be there for him the way he needs them to be.

I want to tag @theidiotwiththepaintedface who hopefully will enjoy this painfully long deep dive into a character’s psychology lol.

#metalocalypse #dethklok #toki wartooth #character analysis #tw: child abuse

106 notes · View notes

depressedacadamia · 3 years

Text

A kiss would be nice

Summary: Magnus develops feelings for his roomate and has no idea what to do; when theres' some serious miscommunication, Alex and Magnus have to solve an obvious problem.

Pairing: Fierrochase

A/N: THIS WAS MY FIRST EVER REQUEST!!!! I swear I'm gonna organise my Masterlist on tumblr coz its a hot mess rn and then I will get a prompt list up. Anyway, I hope this lives up to the expectations of the request- enjoy and comment!

Read on A03 M;List

Magnus liked Alex.

How exactly was he meant to process this?

Yes. Alex was sometimes a girl and other times a boy but what did it make him?

He could remember the moment Alex came floundering into his life, confident about who she was and Magnus could only think about how much he didn't know about himself. It was ridiculous, in his opinion, to think that he fundamentally changed as a person just because he liked someone.

So why did he feel so scared to come to that conclusion that he did in fact like Alex?

“What are you thinking so hard about over there, pretty boy?” Alex asked dryly as he scrolled through his phone while he dangled off the top bunk of their dormitory. Startled, Magnus snapped his head towards Alex and with no game whatsoever stuttered a terrible lie.

“Uh- Uh, nothing.”

“Uhu,” Alex emphasised. “ So that totally wasn't a lie.”

“Yes, Wait, I mean no- wait,” Magnus stuttered out again, his hands beginning to fidget and his palms becoming sweaty.

Alex simply raised an eyebrow before softly sighing and returning to his phone scrolling. He knew that Magnus wasn't the kind to keep secrets in a malicious manner- if he wasn't spilling something, it was because he didn't feel comfortable and Alex knew as well as anyone else that if Magnus was uncomfortable, nothing was spilling from his lips.

Clenching his fists in finality, Magnus got up, accidentally banging the top of his head on the top bunk above him where Alex was elegantly dangling off, his hair defying the laws of gravity by maintaining its rightful position on his head. He rubbed his head, swore under his breath and continued to make a bashful exit from the dorm room.

Alex could tell that something was definitely up.

Sure, Magnus was weird- he sometimes came back home at incredibly odd hours, always seemed relatively silent when one were to ask him where he had been and he almost always wore his lengthy blonde hair in a way that covered the majority of his face; in fact, Alex had thought about tilting his chin up just so he could get a better view of his elegant features.

So what exactly was it causing his roommate to act so oddly?

Magnus was in the bathroom. In fact he was hiding out in one of the stalls, trying his best to avud Alex at all costs. What had started out as a way to skip the horribly boring parts of his classes, now became a full blown ritual in which he would run away to his favourite bathroom stall- the one by the very end, next to the hand blow dryers, were his favourite but also alarmed him because it was there where he could hear whether anybody really washed their hands and there was an alarming amount of evidence which contradicted so.

He would take a book or sometimes just plug in his earphones to listen to music as he essentially hid out in the stall. Sometimes, when he felt a bit more confident- and knew Alex would be off campus- Magnus would hide out in the library; a much more comfortable and all round better smelling place to read, study and or listen to music.

But now as he slowly emerged from the stall after hours of sitting, heading back towards his room, Magnus could only feel this inevitable feeling of impending doom. He had managed to distract himself from the Alex situation for so long and now, he was about to crumble.

It was only a matter of time.

“Magnus?” A familiar and - dare I even say- dreaded voice asked him.

Glancing through the blonde locks of hair which curtained his face, he caught a glimpse of familiar green hair which he had been avoiding.

“Huh?” He managed to mumble.

Alex frowned. “Don’t ‘huh’ me. Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all day.”

Magnus’s eyes widened- he had left his phone on silent as he didnt want to deal with others. “I-you did? Sorry.”

“That doesn't matter now. Where have you bee- actually nevermind that as well, come on, we need to get back, it’s already late and I know you have an early class tomorrow.”

Magnus hesitated.

Alex noticed. He refused to stay silent about the matter any longer.

“Okay. Spit it out. “

“What!” Magnus stammered. “ Spi- spit what? Spit wh- what out exactly?”

“The reason you’ve been avoiding me? Did I forget to do my chores or something? Or did I accidentally make some sort of mess of your stuff?”

“No- No, of course not!”

“So?”

Magnus found himself too enamoured with Alex’s features to respond. He could feel the bubble bath slowly overflowing inside his mind. What did it mean if he liked Alex? Was he now a completely different person? What did it matter if he liked Alex?

Wasn't he just like everybody else?

But Magnus’ mind told him that it was so obvious that Alex was in fact not like everybody else, otherwise why was it Alex whom he couldn’t keep his eyes off of? If Alex was so like everyone else, why was it his eyes that Magnus always wanted to stare at, why was it Alex’s hair that Magnus always wanted to ruffle or Alex’s hand that he always wanted to hold?

Why was it always Alex whom he wanted to hug when he was having a bad day?

So when he looked back at Alex, he felt the overwhelming need to throw himself and wrap his arms around Alex so tightly that Alex would have trouble breathing and then - in Magnus’s perfect world- Alex would also wrap his arms around Magnus and they would hold each other in their arms and stand their leaning on each other.

“Nothing,” Magnmus mumbled as he came back to reality.

He walked past Alex, eager to get back to their dorm and just sleep his feelings away- something he was used to doing thanks to his years of being homeless. He wasn’t about to escape when a slender hand wrapped itself around his wrist and dragged him backwards.

“No.” Alex huffed almost angrily. “You’re not running away from me,not again.”

Magnus could have sworn- looking back- that he may have let out a squeak.

“You are avoiding me Mister and I’d like to know why. It’s bad enough that you spend all your time hiding in the bathroom stalls, it’s even worse that you're doing it to avoid someone as fabulous as myself. So if we could quickly get this over with, It would be greatly appreciated and I’m sure it would relieve your nostrils as well.”

“I-”

“You…?”Alex prompted.

“Ilikeyou.”

Alex paused, scrunched up his nose before raising an eyebrow in ridicule and letting out a laugh. And while Magnus truly believed there was nothing more beautiful than Alex’s smile, right now, it was the most damning thing he had ever seen.

Of course Alex would be laughing! Who wouldn't be laughing if some weedy, shady blond kid confessed their feelings for them in the most pathetic way possible!

Magnus had no other choice but to clench his fists to resist the burning sensation gathering in his eyes as he turned on his heel and hurried back to his dorm.

He was curled up on his bed, binging criminal minds on his laptop because what else was meant to comfort you after getting rejected if it wasn’t watching people getting brutally murdered by psychopaths and sadists?

He was wrapped with this specific episode- involving a bunch of very explicit murder- when Alex snatched his headphones right off his head plopped himself in the computer chair that rested right next to the bottom bunk where Magnus had been hiding out.

He could feel himself paling as he remembered that he lived with Alex.

“We need to talk.”

What? He was so sick of Alex making every decision, afterall- it was Alex who chose to laugh at him.

“We have nothing to talk about,” Magnus managed to snap back.

“Why do you keep avoiding me? First in our own dorm, then in public and now you don't even want to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” He retorted, his words coated with so much sarcasm, had there been anymore, he may have become Samirah at that very moment. “Was I expected to hang around after being ridiculed?”

“Ridiculed? What do you mea-”

“-What do I mean? I guess you wouldnt understand what it feels like for someone whom you really really like to outright just laugh at you after confessing. I guess you don't know how- how nerve racking and horrible it is to not feel comfortable and safe wherever you go. I guess you were privileged enough to not deal with doubting yourself with every decision you make and every thought you have!”

Alex started. “I-”

“-No. I’m not finished. Do you know how that made me feel?” Magnus was on a roll. “ Like shit. I felt shitty. I felt like shit and I was curled up like a bratty 5 year old and do you know what I’ve realised? I’ve realised that I have nob reason to feel shitty because I'm not the one who was so insecure in myself that I laughed at someone else who was struggling, esepcially when I rejected a hot piece of ass such as myself!” He finished his ramble with a shout, his chest heaving, cheeks flushed and somehow, his hair messy.

“So,” Alex drawled causally. “ Am I allowed to speak now?”

“No.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex sooke anyway. “ I’m sorry that you feel this way and I guess I can't change that I was the person who made you feel like- well, shit, but I have to say Beantown, you really shouldn't assume things so quickly.”

Magnus frowned, turning his shiny, glossy eyes towards Alex finally. “Huh?”

“Well. If you were to give me a chance to explain, I’d be able to tell you that I laughed because I thought you looked adorable. I would be able to tell you that I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings in any way and I’m very sorry if I did and…”

Alex held Magnus’ chin, pulling his head a bit down so he was able to fully look him in the eye rather than just looking away under Magnus’ chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“And…?” Magnus whispered hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

“And, I would be able to tell you that I like you.” Alex smiled dopily.

Did Magnus hear that correctly? Did Alex Fierro- the most confident, and in Magnus’s eyes, the most attractive person out there just admit to liking the scraggly kid who used to live on the streets?

“Excuse me?”

Aex sighed. “I said that I like you and your … What was it you said?” He paused for dramatic effect because lighting up his eyes. “ Oh yes and your ‘hot piece of ass’ I believe it was.”

Magnus cringed at his previous words as he started at Alex. Alex fierro liked him!

“What?” Alex smirked on noticing Magnus’s innocent stare.

“Can I try something?” Magnus tilted his head to the side innocently. Alex nodded.

Yes, please do try something, A kiss would be nice.

But to Alex’s surprise, he felt Magnus’s arms being wrapped around his body. It was an odd sensation that at first made Alex want to reel backwards.

But then this familiar ignition in his stomach tugged him back to wrap his arms back around Magnus and bury his face in Magnus’s chest, just about reaching his collarbone.

The hug was brief. Perhaps not even longer than 15 seconds at a maximum, but it was enough for Magnus to feel better.

Alex decided that perhaps next time Magnus would kiss him.

Super cool people Taglist: @wisegirl773 @ddepressedbookworm

#Magnus chase #Alex fierro #fierrochase #Magnus x Alex #Alex x Magnus #Magnus chase fluff #fierrochase fluf #fierrochase angst #Magnus chase angst #Alex fierro fluff #Alex fierro angst #I think I’ll write a part 2 #mcaga #mcaga fanfic #mcaga fluff #requests #phi phi’s requests!#send me requests!

31 notes · View notes

malucy31 · 3 years

Text

Time is On Our Side

Alec is stuck on a mission in India in the 18th century and he misses Magnus. One day, he wakes up somewhere that feels and smells like home.

Chapter 1/3 - Moon troubles

Read on ao3

In a state of semi-consciousness, Alec senses Magnus hovering somewhere over him, his soothing words, soothing voice, familiar presence. When he manages to blink his eyes open, it’s only for a second.

The light is too harsh.

“Magnus…” his voice trails off on its own. He missed him so much.

“Hello, there. You slept all morning, I was starting to fear you wouldn’t wake up at all.”

“The mission, it – ”

“Shh, you’ve been injured, try not to talk.”

“Thought it’d never end…”

“It’s over now. You’re safe here.”

Alec smiles at these words, letting his muscles relax into Magnus’s magic. If he opened his eyes, he knows he would see his lovely husband weaving blue tendrils of magic like strings of air and atoms. But his eyelids are too heavy, and everything is so peaceful.

Two weeks.

Those missions are always supposed to last two weeks, but they never do. Faint recollections of a missed new moon and a missed opportunity to go home cross his mind.

How long has it been? A month? A month and a half?

Alec can’t focus. He has missed Magnus so much, has craved being in his arms, hearing his voice. It has just been too long.

Above him, Magnus says things, but Alec’s brain only registers a few words of reassurance, maybe replies to his unconscious ramblings. He doesn’t even know what he is saying.

Disappointment settles when the soft buzzing of Magnus’s magic leaves his skin. He realizes he must be pouting because the musical laughter he loves so much answers him.

“Try to rest. I’ll be in the next room if you need me, okay?”

Alec pictures himself nodding but has no idea if his head follows. After that, everything fades.

Magnus’s magic must have been what kept him awake because when he regains consciousness, it’s to an evening light filtering through half-closed shutters.

The feelings he had earlier are still floating at the edge of his memory. Magnus’s magic is there too, purring underneath his skin like it has found a home there. As always, Alec opens himself up to the feelings, letting it drizzle, letting it settle in every numb place.

Peacefulness only lasts a few seconds though. The sheets under his palms are rougher than usual. It’s not the silk he was expecting to find. These remind him more of the ones he had at the Institute. More than a bit confused, he sits up, trying not to pay too much attention to his still painful right arm.

Something as simple as it is terrifying grows in his stomach as he takes in his surroundings.

He is neither in their bedroom, nor at the Institute.

In fact, Alec has no idea where he is. It feels like home, but it isn’t. Between the echoes of a familiar magic lovingly coiling up around his bones and the scent of sandalwood coming from the other side of the door, Alec could swear he is at their loft, just like he could swear that Magnus is brewing a batch of his sandalwood shampoo.

Did Magnus add a room to the loft while he was away?

It shouldn’t be this difficult to remember, but everything is blank. It’s only when he sits at the edge of the bed and sees his reflection in the mirror that his brain finally catches up with the situation.

This isn’t his face, he is glamoured as a Mundane.

And he isn’t home because the mission isn’t over yet.

He is still in India in the 18th century…

Great.

Alec heaves a long sigh and falls back on the mattress, wincing as the room spins around him. He was so sure he was home, so sure that this whole nightmare was finally over. But no. The demon they had to kill was harder to find, making them miss the new moon, miss the ritual and forcing them to wait another month in a place and time they were never supposed to be.

So no, he isn’t home. Far from it.

His memories are coming back, but what drove him here is still a mystery. What happened?

It was Magnus with him earlier, and it’s him in the next room. That’s a certainty.

Everything starts spinning again, and Alec has to close his eyes.

What did he tell him? Not too much hopefully, nothing that can’t be put under the account of being injured and groggy, right? How long was he unconscious? Did he miss the new moon again? The thought makes him sit back up, swallowing a moan because his right arm is really hurting.

He can’t wait another month here.

He can’t.

He needs to go home, he needs Magnus, his Magnus. He is sick of falling asleep in beds that are too small, too cold, and too hard. Sick of waking up and having quick breakfasts amongst the other Shadowhunters like he used to do when everything inside of him felt wrong. He wants his life back. Now.

Jace would tell him to stop overreacting, but he doesn’t know what a life with Magnus is. He doesn’t know that nothing compares to this life they are building year after year. Jace doesn’t know, he can’t.

Tears start prickling at the corner of his eyes. Alec is just so tired… It almost makes him regret this blissed state of half-consciousness from earlier where everything felt like a dream.

In the next room, he hears Magnus make a contented noise, humming in approval and commenting to himself like he often does when he tries something new in his apothecary or in the kitchen. Without realizing it, Alec stands up, feeling much lighter. Quiet and calm are replacing the spiraling storm inside his head. There’s nothing like Magnus being happy to make him forget about everything wrong in the world.

It pains him to think he should escape through the window. He has no idea how he ended up here, at Magnus’s or what he told him. It would be safer to escape.

But on the other hand, isn’t that exactly why Magnus didn’t travel with him? Or why he made sure to add a protection spell to Alec’s glamor? They all knew this could happen. This Magnus won’t be able to detect his glamor, his Magnus won’t arrive to save him… There really isn’t any danger, is there?

Before he can make a decision, Alec is at the door, already hearing his siblings’ snigger at their lovesick brother. He just… A month and a half is too long. He misses him too much.

It’s impossible to hold back his smile and sudden yearning when he opens the door. It’s the apothecary. The exact replica of the one Alec knows so well by now. He doesn’t have time to observe the details because Magnus is already meeting his stare.

“There’s our mysterious and reckless traveler! How do you feel?”

“Better, thanks.”

“Is it still hurting?” Magnus asks, pointing to Alec’s right arm as he absently rubs it.

The scent of sandalwood and home is so overwhelming that Alec is barely aware of his own answer, or of the fact that Magnus is approaching.

With an elegant movement, he lets a little of his magic rain over Alec’s arm. As it usually does, it curls up around him with a tenderness that leaves him speechless. It makes this Magnus’s face soften, just like it does with his Magnus.

I missed this. I missed you, he wants to say and has to bite his tongue to refrain.

Euphoria fades abruptly when he realizes that this is the second time Magnus has used his magic on him without trying to hide it. Magnus, who isn’t supposed to know him or know that he is part of the Shadow World.

If he is acting like this, it means Alec did or said something he shouldn’t have.

What did he do? How much did he reveal while he was unconscious? Did he doom them forever? Will he come back to an empty loft? To a life where he doesn’t know Magnus at all?

Maybe he should have escaped through the window after all. He is getting nauseous. His mind sinks into bottomless spirals and the room spins again. It’s too late to play dumb, to withdraw his arm and look scandalized, asking things like What kind of witchcraft is this? It’s not like Alec has ever learned how to lie properly anyway.

Magnus must feel his sudden distress because he gently leads him back to a chair, “There, everything’s alright. Better?”

Alec can’t even nod.

As for Magnus, he is smirking, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Don’t worry, mysterious traveler, I don’t know a thing about you.”

Apparently, glamor or not, Magnus can still read him like an open book. Alec doesn’t know if it should make him scared or make him fall in love a little more. Maybe both. Definitively the latter.

“Good,” Alec can’t help replying and regretting it immediately because the amusement on Magnus’s features fades away. He knows his husband enough to know that this mysterious traveler must intrigue him. While healing him, he probably felt a lingering taste of magic, of his own magic without really understanding it.

“Come with me,” he eventually says. “You should eat something.”

Magnus’s kitchen makes Alec smile too.

Once, Magnus told him he used several decades of his life to perfect his cooking skills, even owned a restaurant. Something fancy and prestigious that still exists, where he took Alec for their tenth anniversary.

Seeing what can only be called a mess in the kitchen, Alec wonders if this is when Magnus started experimenting.

Usually, Alec gets nervous around mess, but never around Magnus’s. There is always a certain beauty about it, something that reflects his mere soul. Herbs are hanging from the ceiling, drying, diffusing the light in shades of rosemary, wild citrus, and marjoram. On the countertop next to the window are several bowls turned upside down to protect what Alec can only call mixtures. He frowns before remembering that one of Magnus’s obsessions in cooking were mushrooms. The rare and disgusting kinds if anyone were to ask him.

But what Alec finds the most endearing are the vegetables. He knows how Magnus likes to sort them out and visibly, he has kept the same habits in centuries. He sorts them out by colors, giving every corner of the room the right shade of red, yellow, green, or purple.

It’s all about the colors and how each piece reflects the light around, my dear, Magnus explained once. Would you like to help?

It was fun. It was more like Alec was fumbling with everything Magnus gave him than helping, but it felt like watching his husband apply his makeup or redecorate their home. Magnus was opening up for him, letting him share his view of the world, and it was mesmerizing. The world as a work of art. That was something new to Alec, and after getting a taste, he couldn’t get enough. Every detail pointed out by Magnus was like a revelation to him.

He is still daydreaming when Magnus starts cooking something, using some magic to speed things up. It stresses Alec again to watch his future husband use magic in front of him – a stranger. What happened?

“Please, have a seat, it will be ready soon.”

“Thanks.”

Alec does as he is told, not really knowing where to start, not wanting to make things worse by saying the wrong thing. He is about to ask what day it is when Magnus reads his mind again.

“I found you last night, some meaningless demons were after you. I wondered what demons could want with a Mundane in the middle of the night when I saw you draw a sword out of thin air. I thought you were a Shadowhunter, but I don’t see any rune or glamour.”

He stops for a while, deep in thought, allowing Alec the time bask in relief.

“You had almost all of them killed, and I was about to let you handle it when one of them bit you, and you collapsed. The thing poisoned you. It’s meant to affect your memory of them. Some kind of defense mechanism to make sure you don’t remember any of it.”

Oh.

Alec means to thank him, but Magnus continues in a more cautious voice.

“I’m guessing asking you who you are is useless, huh?” he turns slightly, enough for Alec to get a glimpse of his expression. Curiosity. Alec swallows thickly.

“I… I wish I could tell you, but it’s um—”

“Dangerous?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Magnus sighs. “I figured. You said that a lot this morning… Normally, I’d try harder, but there’s clearly something unique about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s…something about the way my magic responded to you, or rather how your body accepted it like it would oxygen, and at the same time, something was keeping me out.”

“I’m sorry, I really can’t say a thing.”

“It’s alright. I have nothing but time to figure it out, and you must have a lot of fascinating stories to tell. I want to spend a nice evening for a change.” On those words, Magnus brings food to the table and smiles. “Shall we?”

Thousands of memories instantly bloom in Alec’s mind from the seeds of these words and this smile.

To appease his homesick heart, Alec answers what he always does, re-enacting a cherished routine he has been craving for the last month and a half. “After you.”

#malec fic #malec fanfic #malec fanfiction #alec lightwood #magnus bane #my writing #shadowhunters #time travel #alec misses magnus #fluff #tiny bit of magnus angst #but alec is there #don't worry #emotional hurt/comfort #a lot of love #malec

21 notes · View notes

bytheangell · 3 years

Text

If You Don't Belong, Don't Be Long

( @shadowhunterbingo square: Body Swap) (Read on AO3)

Magnus is immediately aware that something is wrong. The last thing he remembers is the potion he was making starting to smoke before exploding in his face, and then nothing.

Nothing until now, when he begins to stir back to consciousness with the immediate feeling that something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong. It takes him a moment to pinpoint exactly what that something is: he isn’t breathing. The immediate panic sets in that he’s dead, which isn’t entirely incorrect. It’s just that he also isn’t himself, either.

“Simon? Simon, are you alright?”

The concerned voice hovering over him is Isabelle’s. Magnus almost doesn’t allow himself to open his eyes because he isn’t sure he wants to confirm his suspicions, but in the end, he can’t put it off any longer. Allowing his eyelids to flutter open he sees a very worried Isabelle Lightwood leaning over him - but it isn’t him she’s leaning over. It’s Simon’s body.

He’s in Simon’s body.

“I’m not Simon,” Magnus says. “And I’m most certainly not alright.”

A moment later Izzy’s phone begins to ring. “With any luck, that will be your brother,” Magnus says, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “If my hunch is right, he’s the one you’ll want to ask about Simon.”

---

“...Magnus?”

The world comes to around him, but instead of being in the Institute where he’d been having lunch with Isabelle, Simon blinks his eyes open to see a room he doesn’t immediately recognize.

“Magnus? Say something. What happened? Should I call Cat?”

Simon immediately recognizes the voice even before Alec’s face focuses into view after a few blinks. It’s then that the area behind him - Magnus’ apothecary in his Loft - registers.

“Wha-” Simon starts to say, then notices the sound of his voice - which is not his voice. And the hand he lifts from the floor to prop himself up isn’t his hand, either. “What the fuck!?”

Simon sits up abruptly enough in his panic that he collides his forehead directly into Alec’s, who starts to lean down at the same time to get a closer look.

“Shit, sorry, Alec,” Simon apologizes instinctively, rubbing at the dull ache in his forehead. He’s surprised by the immediate blue wisps of magic that come into view, moving in a wave over his face. The ache from the impact fades… and then the rest of his face turns entirely numb. “Oh no, I can’t feel my face.”

“Okay, now I’m really worried. Magnus, what’s-”

“Simon. I’m Simon. Alec, what the hell is going on? Why am I in Magnus’ body? What weird Freaky Friday fortune cookie scenario is happening to me right now?”

Alec, to his credit, remains much calmer about this than he probably should, if only to counter Simon’s obvious panicked spiral. “Simon?”

Simon nods.

“Okay…” Alec starts slowly, though Simon can’t imagine any part of this is actually ‘okay’. “Where were you when you… when this happened?”

Simon pauses for a moment. “The last thing I remember was being with Izzy, at the Institute.”

Alec has his phone out before Simon can finish the sentence.

“Iz? Are you with… well, Simon’s body, but it isn’t-” Alec starts, and Simon fidgets with the rings on his (Magnus’) hands when Alec falls abruptly silent, then nods to himself. “Yes. Alright, so that’s… that’s good, right? That they’re both…” Alec pauses again, this time turning to face Simon. “Are you alright?”

Simon holds out his hands, turning them over in front of him. “I mean… I’m as alright as being trapped in Magnus’ body can be, I guess? I could definitely be worse. I mean, not that this is great, but I guess if I have to end up in someone else’s body it’s a good body to-”

Alec cuts him off.

“He’s fine. Still very much... Simon,” Alec says into the phone.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Simon says indignantly, but Alec is already ignoring him in favor of the phone again.

“Alright, see you in a few,” Alec says before pocketing his phone. “They’ll be here as soon as they can. I don’t suppose you can open a portal, can you?”

Simon shakes his head. “I wouldn’t risk it. I just made my entire face numb when I accidentally tried to heal the bump on my forehead.”

Alec sighs. “Right. How about you don’t do any magic at all until Magnus gets here? I’d like my husband’s physical body intact, please.”

“I’m not so sure I have any actual control over it,” Simon admits, and he can’t keep the slight tremor of nervousness out of his tone at the sight of light blue sparks dancing across his fingertips. “But I’ll try. Promise.”

Simon does try. He also fails, several times, resulting in scorch marks on one of Magnus’ Persian rugs, a broken coffee mug, and a vase that Simon only partially broke, but then tried to use magic to fix and completely obliterated in the process.

“That’s it,” Alec finally mutters. “You’re sitting in the corner and not moving or touching anything until Magnus gets here.”

Simon wonders if Alec is joking or being serious until a moment later when he grabs a chair from the dining room and drags it over to the corner of the loft. Oh. Not joking, then.

Simon almost argues, except after all the trouble he’s caused trying to exist with magic at his fingertips maybe it is for the best if he just does as little existing as possible for now. So Simon sits in the corner, humming to himself until a knock at the front door grabs his attention. He spins around to see Izzy and Magnus - but Magnus in his body, which is way weirder than he anticipated - walk through the door.

“Why is Simon in the corn--” Simon hears his voice start to ask, then fall silent at the shattered remains of the vase and the scorch mark not far from it. “Nevermind.”

Simon winces. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that. But man, am I glad to see you.”

“Don’t be too glad,” Magnus says. “Because I don’t have the slightest idea how to fix this.”

---

Several fire messages and phone calls later, Magnus is only slightly closer to figuring out what went wrong and how to even begin working a counter-spell to reverse the effects.

“Simon’s hair was the only vampire hair sample I had on me, so that must’ve been the connection that tethered us together for the switch,” Magnus says, which is more guesswork than hard fact but it’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s a starting point if nothing else.

It doesn’t help that Magnus has to stop and drink blood, which he immediately hates the idea of, but the longer he puts it off the less focused he gets. It brings back too many unwelcome memories of his time with Camille and all that terrible business with de Quincy. He thought he knew the feeling, thought he understood, but nothing could prepare him for what that instinctive hunger truly feels like.

There are also moments when he becomes suddenly aware that his heart isn’t beating, and needs to take some time to bring himself down from that immediate panic of something being wrong. Each time Alec seems to sense it and stands a little closer, not too close as to crowd, but enough that when Magnus reaches out to feel the warmth of Alec’s hand or the pulse at his boyfriend’s wrist he’s always right there, waiting.

“I hate this,” Magnus mutters to Alec while they’re alone, with Isabelle and Simon out on a food run. He takes the time to lean against Alec’s side, hoping his need to be held just then isn’t too weird for Alec.

“I know you do,” Alec agrees, and to his credit doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Magnus, allowing Magnus to sink into the embrace. “But you’ll figure it out. You’ll fix it. I believe in you.”

That makes one of us, Magnus thinks bitterly, looking across the pages and pages of handwritten notes.

The breakthrough comes when a thorough test of each individual ingredient catches one that isn’t pure, something Magnus picked up weeks ago at a Shadow Market in Italy. From there it’s easy enough for him and Tessa to reverse-engineer a counterspell and potion. Everything seems to be falling into place perfectly until they get to the end and realize one big problem.

It’s a simple enough spell for someone of Magnus’ skill level. And if Magnus was the one performing it they could be back in their bodies by nightfall. Unfortunately...

---

“What do you mean I have to do it?” Simon asks, already shaking his head back and forth. “No. There’s no way! Did you see what I did earlier? Alec, tell them how bad I am at magic!”

Alec looks concerned enough to back up Simon’s claims without speaking at all. “It… wasn’t great,” Alec admits. “You’re sure there’s no other way?”

“No,” Magnus insists. “It has to be Simon. More specifically, it has to be my magic, the same magic that initiated the swap.” Magnus looks over at him with what Simon is sure is meant to be a reassuring smile, but unfortunately, Simon knows all too well what his own face looks like when he’s trying to fake reassurances. It’s absolutely the face staring up at him now.

“Can’t you like, mind-control me and do it, I dunno, through me or something?” Simon suggests hopefully. “You could Encanto me!”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

“We’re doomed,” Simon sighs, slumping Magnus’ body dramatically down into the chair. “We’re going to be stuck like this forever.”

“Please don’t say that,” Alec says. “No offense, but I don’t particularly want to kiss… your body, for lack of better phrasing,” Alec says, motioning to Magnus in Simon’s body.

Izzy glances over at Simon in Magnus’ body with a hint of a smirk. “I dunno, I wouldn’t be opposed to-”

“Izzy!” Simon immediately objects. “Gross! C’mon, Iz” Alec cuts her off at the same time.

“I’m kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood,” she says. “Listen, Simon. You can do this. I know you can. Magnus is going to walk you through it. We’re all going to be here for moral support… and as backup just in case. Not that you’ll need it, because it’s going to be totally fine.”

Izzy crosses over to him and takes his hands in her own, giving them a comforting squeeze. It feels strange to hold her hands like this, something that should be reassuring and familiar feeling too jarringly foreign while he’s in Magnus’ body. He can only imagine how weird it must be for Magnus, inside the body of a teenager who doesn’t have a beating heart.

They need to fix this. Obviously. And if he has to be the one to do it, then… well, then he’s just going to have to figure out a way. He’s relied on others to fix his problems more than once, so it’s only fair he takes a turn fixing one this time around. Even if it is a really, really big one. With potentially terrible consequences for messing up.

“Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be… totally fine,” Simon says, echoing Izzy, though sounding about as confident as a man about to jump out of a plane with no parachute.

Magic, much like being a vampire at the start, does not come instinctively to Simon. As eager as they are to get back into their actual bodies, they both agree to take as long as they need to until they’re confident Simon can complete the spell without messing it up.

It takes five days. Simon can’t help but feel the impatience and frustration growing from the others (namely Alec) with every day that passes, but Magnus reassures Simon that it’s fine. Better to get it right than end up doing even more damage, potentially something irreversible this time.

So it’s nearly a week later when Magnus makes the potion, with the help of Simon using his magic as needed before it’s time for them to drink it and for Simon to complete the spell. Simon draws the sigil on the floor in black ash flawlessly - after how often he practiced it he could probably draw it in his sleep, but it’s still a pleasant surprise to not need a single re-do.

When it comes time to summon the magic for the spell itself, he can only hope that five days was enough practice on how to call what he needs and not anything more, or anything malicious. Simon does his best to ignore the tense forms of Alec and Isabelle waiting off to the side of the room, just in case-

No. No just in case. They aren’t going to need them to get help because he can do this. He has to be able to do this.

Simon locks eyes with Magnus, who nods once - then Simon calls forth the magic and speaks the incantation.

Slowly, the corners of the sigil begin to glow, the dim light shifting toward the center. A sudden burst of blinding light rises up around them, reminding Simon of the flash grenades he’s seen in countless movies and video games. It’s the last thought he has before everything goes black.

---

Magnus can feel the familiar weight of his own body before he even opens his eyes. He’s overly aware of his fingers and toes on the ends of arms that are the right length once more, of the comfortingly soft silk against his torso from his shirt, and the slight chill of the cool air along the shaved sides of his head as he blinks his eyes open and sits up from the floor.

“Magnus? Are you, you?” Alec asks. He and Isabelle both stand at the edge of the circle, obviously unsure as to whether crossing it would ruin anything.

“I’m me, Alexander,” Magnus confirms, holding his hand up to bring a small ball of magic into his palm before allowing it to fade away again. He’s exhausted but manages a small smile just the same. “You can step into the circle, it’s over now.”

The Lightwoods don’t need to be told twice, and a moment later Alec is helping Magnus up while Izzy kneels beside Simon, brushing a strand of hair out of his face as he beings to stir.

“I never thought I’d see the day that not feeling my heartbeat would be reassuring,” Simon mutters, still sprawled on the ground but with open eyes. Magnus watches Izzy laugh before kissing Simon and looks away just in time for Alec to bring a hand to the side of his face before kissing him as well.

“I never want to go that many days without kissing you ever again,” Alec whispers the words against Magnus’ lips, barely pulling back enough to speak them.

“Next time I end up in another body I’ll try not to make it your sister’s boyfriend so we can still make out in the interim,” Magnus whispers back, earning him a light hit on the side of the arm from Alec who pulls away fully, laughing.

After days of nothing but strain and worry, it’s nice to hear such easy laughter coming from any of them again, but especially from Alec. It’s just one of many sounds he can’t wait to hear from Alec again - hopefully sooner rather than later.

Magnus hadn't meant for his mind to turn there, but once it does it's all he can think about. Simon and Isabelle must catch the look Magnus and Alec share because a moment later they’re asking for a portal back to the Institute, which Magnus opens with his usual flourish and ease.

It’s certainly good to be back.

#magnus bane #simon lewis #malec #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #sizzy #shadowhunters #bodyswap #ShadowhunterBingo #hmdiscord #long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #elle talks too much

46 notes · View notes

mimosaeyes · 3 years

Text

This is a dream, then. A fantasy conjured by the last firing of his synapses in the moment before death. Martin silently thanks his subconscious for it. He’s never had faith the way his mother did, but if there is a heaven for him, he’s quite sure it would have Jon in it.

Post-200. Jon and Martin wake up somewhere else. 2.2k, fix-it but not really.

In case this turns out to be the last fic I finish in this fandom, I want to especially thank my beta @emberidzae for introducing me to TMA. Or, at least, for talking about it enough in my general proximity that eventually I got curious.

Someone is cradling Martin’s head on their lap, and running their fingers through his hair. Jon, he thinks absently. He’d know him anywhere, even by such tiny details as the shape of his calluses where he grips a pen, and the texture of his burn-scarred skin.

But that can’t be right. Jon is dead. He’d killed him in the Panopticon, hands shaking until the instant before the knife had plunged in. The only way he could force himself to do it was to make it as quick and painless as possible. He couldn’t falter and draw out Jon’s suffering, not when it was already such a torment to hear him groan and scream as the building began to crumble around them. Or to see the look in his eyes, the utter trust and love warring against the Beholding’s hold on him.

He breathes, even and steady like he’s trying to fall more deeply asleep. If these are his last seconds of awareness, he wants to spend them just like this.

Then he hears Jon quietly ask, “Are you awake?”

Martin opens his eyes. Jon is peering down at him, his expression tender and tentative. In the weak sunlight, he looks washed out, his features rendered nearly in greyscale. There’s no trace of the bright red from when Martin had lifted a bloody hand to cup his face. The only indication of everything that’s happened is a faint mistiness about Jon’s eyes.

Furrowing his brow, Martin reaches up and touches his cheek. It’s wet; he leaves behind a fine dusting of black sand that has stuck to his fingers. “Are you crying?” he murmurs, almost confused. Surely, if this is all in his imagination, he’d have made Jon happy.

Jon surprises him with a soft laugh. “Tears of relief, Martin. Look around.”

Reluctantly, still half-convinced none of this is really happening, Martin rolls to one side and sits up. Jon scoots over a little for him, even though there’s plenty of space. The shore is completely deserted apart from them, and silent but for the gently lapping water.

“Is this...?”

At Martin’s questioning look, a smile slowly spreads across Jon’s face. It’s a complicated one, balanced between joy and disbelief, sadness and resignation. “Somewhere else,” he affirms.

“But I—” Martin stares at Jon. There’s no blood on him, no wound; only a tell-tale rip in his shirt where the knife had gone in. “I killed you.”

“I told you to,” Jon objects. His hands come up as if to touch Martin, who rocks back on his haunches.

“I killed you,” he repeats, this time in a whisper.

Jon watches him for a moment. His shoulders lift in a helpless sort of shrug. “Or maybe,” he says, “you killed everything that wasn’t me. Everything tethering them there.”

Martin can feel tears welling up in his eyes. He’s shaking his head slowly, but he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he can deny the physical fact of Jon, here with him, miraculously unharmed and apparently, entirely human. It’s not like he wants to, either. He just hadn’t been expecting to wake up again — in a world he may have helped to doom, next to a boyfriend he was supposed to have died with.

It’s a lot to process.

A single sob escapes Martin, and at once Jon is hushing him, almost vaulting forward in his rush to pull him into a hug. They meet awkwardly halfway, in a tangle of clumsy limbs and warmth.

With Jon’s arms around him, Martin lets himself just cry for a while.

It feels long overdue. The back of Martin’s throat has felt tight and strained since the moment he woke up to find Jon gone. He’d rushed to find Georgie, Melanie, and Basira, and then he’d rushed up the countless flights of stairs in the Panopticon, not daring to stop and catch his breath for fear he’d be too late. He was, anyway, and the moment Jon had turned around to face him, voice crackling with static and eyes illuminated as if from within, it had all come crashing over Martin: Jon had left him behind after all. He’d broken his promise, been so willing to die in some perverse kind of atonement that he hadn’t even waited to say goodbye.

Martin hardly dares to believe he’s here now, rubbing soothing circles over his back and murmuring, “It’s okay. Shh. I’ve got you.”

It takes some time, but eventually Martin subsides. The trembling stops and his breathing slows. Mildly embarrassed, he pulls back from the embrace. “Don’t ever,” he says wetly, poking Jon in the chest, “do that to me again.”

“I won’t,” Jon says softly. He waits until Martin has settled back on the sand, then takes his hand and interlaces their fingers.

For a while, they both stare out at the water, the way the seafoam stands out against the dark beach.

“Any idea where this is?” Martin asks.

Jon shakes his head. “I think Iceland has black sand beaches, but... you know. That’s back in our reality.”

Martin lets out a long breath. “It worked, then.” His voice is muted with weariness. “We saved the world.”

“And doomed every other one.” Without letting go of Martin’s hand, Jon pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them.

“Not everything is your fault, Jon. We all agreed on the plan.”

He waits, but Jon gives no sign of having even heard the words. He watches him for a long moment, biting his lip. Then he clambers to his feet and pulls on their linked hands. “Come on.”

Jon blinks up at him. “Where are we going?”

“On a walk,” Martin tells him.

The beach looks the same in either direction, and a steep wall of volcanic rock prevents them from going farther inland. Undaunted, Martin starts off towards the left. Jon follows, possibly from force of habit. They’d gone on many such walks together, in the halcyon days at the safehouse before the world ended.

Normally, Martin would point things out as they passed them by — good cows being a bonus, of course — but this place seems eerily devoid of life. There aren’t even any seashells or bits of driftwood. The air is still. The fog sits in heavy reams.

He’s just wondering if he should bring it up when Jon abruptly starts talking. He’d given one last statement, he admits, up in the Panopticon before Martin arrived. Becoming the pupil of the Eye had given him answers, at long last, about how the entities came to be.

Jon’s train of thought is uncertain, and he frowns a lot as he rambles. Sometimes he stops and gazes out across the water, the look in his eyes vacant. It’s probably just a side effect of his being ripped away from the Ceaseless Watcher, Martin tells himself. Probably.

“We created monsters,” Jon says at last, “and then I set them loose on the whole universe.” He stops walking and hunches his shoulders. “What does that make me?”

Martin closes his eyes for a moment. “Jonathan Sims, you are not a monster.”

Beside him, Jon’s breathing goes shaky. “But I told you—”

“That I wouldn’t want to see what was left of you?” Martin interrupts. He hasn’t forgotten the desperate look on Jon’s face in that moment, when he’d first refused to leave him. “I’m looking at you right now, Jon, and you know what I see?”

Illogically, he’s almost angry at him; that’s how frustrated he is that the man he loves cannot seem to stop blaming himself for everything. “I see someone who has given everything to make things right. Who chose kindness, even though he’d been marked and manipulated. Even though he kept getting kidnapped and hunted and hurt and — and used.”

Jon is staring at him now, wide-eyed. Martin thinks about the way he’d looked in what he thought were their last moments together. Beautiful and beatific. He touches two fingers to Jon’s chin, tilting it up. “It’s not monstrous to protect the people you love,” he says. “It’s human.”

With his free hand, Jon swipes at a tear that’s running down his cheek.

“Okay?” Martin presses, but gently.

Jon sniffs. “Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “that your pep talks can be rather aggressive?”

He’s deflecting, but Martin decides to let him get away with it. He’s pushed hard enough for now. In any case, he thinks his words have hit home, at least to some extent. There’s still guilt in Jon’s eyes, but although it runs deep, Martin thinks it looks a little less sharp.

Pulling back and turning to resume their walk, he says, “They have to be, to get through your thick head.”

A corner of Jon’s lips quirks up. “That sounds like something Basira would say.”

“Is she alright, do you think? And Georgie and Melanie?”

Jon waves a hand. “I’m sure they’re fine. They’re probably putting the world back together already.”

“Probably make it better,” Martin muses. He sighs. “They’ll have their work cut out for them.”

A beat. “And what about us?” Jon asks quietly. “What do we do now?”

They fall silent, each contemplating the question.

If they’ve ended up in the same world as the entities, Martin figures, at some point they’ll probably have to start seeking out organisations like the Magnus Institute, working out who the next Archivist is. And if they somehow stop the apocalypse from happening, it’ll only be for a while. There will always be another attempt to foil.

By some miracle, they’ve made it here. Maybe they’ll be able to build a life together, and enjoy it for a while. But mostly, the future Martin sees stretching ahead of them is just full of more danger and guilt and sacrifice.

Jon must be thinking along the same lines, because he sighs and says, “Do you know what this reminds me of? It’s like I thought the play was over, but it turns out it’s only the intermission.”

“What did you want it to be?”

For the space of several breaths, Jon is silent. “A good epilogue,” he says at last. “I’d like to think we deserve that much.”

Martin swallows past a sudden lump in his throat. There isn’t really anything he can say to that, so instead he gives Jon a little nudge, and keeps walking.

When he next looks up, his eye snags on a shape on the shoreline ahead of them. It’s the first thing they’ve come across since they woke up here and started walking. In tacit agreement, they both wander over to get a closer look.

It’s a small boat, complete with a set of oars. The wood has only the faintest suggestion of brown. It’s been bleached to a light grey, though how long that would have taken, Martin can’t guess.

He clears his throat. “Is anything about all this just a little bit on the nose to you?”

“What?” Jon asks, still peering at the boat. Then: “Oh.”

This looks more like an ocean than a river, Styx or otherwise, but Martin can’t deny that there’s something ethereal about this place. Interstitial. Plus, there’s the otherwise inexplicable fact that Jon’s wound is gone. Honestly, he should have put it together sooner.

He notices Jon watching him then, his head canted and his expression fond. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jon says. “You’re just... taking the possibility that you’re dead very well.”

“So are you,” Martin points out.

Jon shrugs. “I’ve had time to get used to the idea. Besides, you’re here.”

His smile, at that moment, is a brittle thing. Martin finds he has to look away from it.

They never seem to get enough time, do they? The cottage in Scotland. That week at Upton House. And now this. Part of Martin is tempted to try and stay here, in this final pocket of respite. He knows that’s irrational, though.

Maybe this is just a very dramatic-looking beach, and they’ll feel very silly when they wash ashore. Or maybe they’re right. Maybe they’ll get in that boat and... pass on, head towards the light — any one of the phrases people have invented to give shape to the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.

Either way, Martin realises, they have to find out. And at least they’ll find out together. Subconsciously, he tightens his grip on Jon’s hand.

“What are you thinking?” Jon asks softly.

Martin looks at him for a long moment. “I did want to take you rowing.” Such light words for the weight of what they imply.

“Where you go,” Jon says, “I go.”

Martin smiles. “That’s the deal.”

It takes them a while to get a rhythm going after they push off from the shore. Martin rows, and after a while, to his mild delight, Jon starts singing a sea shanty under his breath, keeping time to the beat of the oars.

And as the shore disappears behind the fog, Martin is surprised to find that colours start to filter back into the world. Pinks and yellows, the likes of which the sky above his head hasn’t contained in so long.

He looks at Jon, who looks back at him and nods.

They meet the sunrise. They leave the world behind.

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #mimofic

28 notes · View notes

thanksjro · 4 years

Text

Dark Cybertron Chapter 11: The Word “Logic” Doesn’t Even Mean Anything Anymore

Our issue opens up with a flashback to establish some things. 

Because despite the six literal issues of prelude, and all the ham-fisted exposition we’ve gotten throughout the “Dark Cybertron” event, we still don’t have all the information we need to understand what the hell’s happening.

I have a feeling this won’t quite cut the mustard, either.

Anyway, back during the events of MTMTE #1, when Rodimus was making his call to action to his fellow Cybertronians (and by “Cybertronians” I, of course, mean “Autobots”, because prejudice is a hard habit to kick, even for the best of us) Brainstorm was doing science on Hardhead. He was doing this science to make sure that the Dead Universe hadn’t killed him without him realizing. This is a very common issue in the world of IDW2005 Transformers, considering that zombies are a part of canon, so it’s just best to be sure. Nova Prime’s lifeless body sits in the corner like the world’s worst coffee table book.

This will take some explaining, because this is Phase One related.

In Spotlight: Sideswipe, Nova Prime beefed it, except he didn’t, because his “essence” returned to the Dead Universe. This is because he was chosen by the Dead Universe to enact its will on the other, much cooler, Not-Dead Universe. In short, he’s a weird robot zombie-ghost with a save point in the Dead Universe.

Brainstorm has his corpse in his lab to make sure this bastard is true and proper dead, or that the body he left behind is at least. That, in combination with Hardhead proving to be very much alive, means that today can be counted as a win for everyone! The “Alive-People-Counter” machine proves it!

…This is why we can’t have nice things.

Brainstorm being undead does have some precedence within the narrative, given what happened in MTMTE #3.

Though I can’t help but wonder what the guy’s been doing for the last year and a half, that he didn’t notice being dead, when his soul is a large, glowing orb with physical presence. I dunno, he just seems like the sort of guy to keep up to date on that sort of thing, if only for scientific purposes.

In the present day, in the beautiful city of Iacon, everything’s gone to shit, and Whirl’s gotten hot for some reason, as billions of Ammonites fall out of the sky.

Who friggin’ drew this-

I should’ve known.

Up on the Lost Light, Ultra Magnus is breaking out the fancy swears, as a… tornado, I guess, of Ammonites hits the underside of the ship. Bumblebee wants to evacuate the friggin’ planet- which, I don’t know if you know this, would be a little difficult to do, even with a ship the size of NYC. Unfortunately, that’s not gonna fly, however, because all the stars in the sky are blue-shifting.

Wikipedia tells me that this is probably a bad thing, and Perceptor agrees, calling it “the end of everything.”

Over in Shockwave’s Lair of Villainy and Magical Bullshit, everyone’s favorite purple science gremlin has stabbed a “time drive” into his chest. Galvatron is laying dead on the floor in the foreground, but this isn’t about him. Shockwave orders Jhiaxus to activate the time drive, I guess because he doesn’t have long enough arms to do it himself. Jhiaxus warns Shockwave to be mindful, lest he lose himself in time, and then we get a return to a Roberts writing staple that we haven’t seen in quite a while.

Waxing poetic on the nature of time- this time, in a visual medium!

Awful lot of fixating on your ritualistic amputations there, Shocky-boy. I suppose this is ONE way to try to cope with a lack of control in your life.

Of course, to those on the outside of Shockwave’s brain, this doesn’t look nearly as impressive- it actually just looks like him screaming really loud at the ceiling. Bludgeon isn’t sure that this course of action is a healthy one to take, but Jhiaxus is too busy being sapiosexual to worry about that.

I-

Sure. I’m not even going to bother trying to understand this anymore.

Jhiaxus orders Monstructor to go keep the Autobots away from Shockwave.

Also, Galvatron isn’t dead. Good for him, I guess.

Over inside Metroplex, Windblade’s face seems to be stuck in the generic “I am a nice, nonthreatening female character who is also pretty” position, as Ultra Magnus tells her that the universe is ending. Chromia watches in the background as this happens, likely wondering if being relevant in modern media again is worth this bullshit.

Hearing that Bumblebee plans to take the fight to Shockwave is enough to get Metroplex back on his feet, which is good, because I don’t think we have a lot of time to convince the guy to do anything- this event ends next issue.

As Metroplex windmills his arms through swarms of Ammonites, the Lost Light lands, and Bumblebee, Megatron, and all their experts disembark. Bumblebee makes an unsolicited comment about Megatron’s body. They go to meet Soundwave, who isn’t terribly thrilled with Megatron having become all buddy-buddy with Bumblebee. Megatron mentions that the Decepticons are going to have to rethink their strategy once this is all over, with the implication being that they’re going to- gasp- work together with the Autobots.

Then Starscream shows up with Metalhawk, Skywarp, Rattrap, Waspinator, and Scoop for some fucking reason, in tow. Skywarp is going to teleport everyone into Shockwave’s Bastardization of the Concept of Science House, even though he pretty clearly isn’t feeling too well. What a guy.

Starscream and Megatron have a bit of banter that won’t set your hair on end with how awful they are to one another, Metalhawk tries to apologize for attempting to kill Bumblebee, and we really don’t have time for this shit right now. The narrative knows this, because it shifts to focus on Prowl and the Constructicons. Things are looking real rough just about everywhere, and it’s coming down to the wire, so they gotta do the thing.

The thing Prowl really doesn’t want to do.

The thing he said that he wouldn’t do again.

So anyway, they form Devastator.

As Monstructor gets ready to get punched in the face by a bunch of construction workers and a cop, everyone down below is firing off laser blasts and gearing up for a teleporting adventure. However, there’s a small problem- there are too many people to teleport! Oh no! The only solution is for Soundwave and his cassettes, Scoop, Getaway and-

Excuse me, Hook?

Hook, my dude? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be a leg right now, motherfucker, why are you here? GO HOME, HOOK.

Anyway, I’m really glad we wasted the time establishing that Soundwave and his band of merry little men were coming along on this trip, only for them to not come along after all. Love that shit.

I don’t actually love that shit. I’m sorry for lying.

With the load lightened, Skywarp teleports the rest of the gang to where they need to be, and Waspinator is immediately stabbed with a massive raging poisoning sword of doom. Bludgeon’s here to greet everyone, and Metalhawk is gonna try his damnedest to get the guy to come around to their side.

You remember when Metalhawk did things like connive, and scheme, and actually had more depth than a sidewalk puddle? Because I remember. Now he’s just... Beast Wars Silverbolt, but he’s not even attempting to be charming. I bet he wouldn’t even call his evil girlfriend “my soul’s delight.” Lame.

Bumblebee, Megatron, and friends book it for Shockwave, while Magnus and Skids get ready to kick some ass. Brainstorm isn’t feeling so hot, but this isn’t about him.

Starscream is having a minor crisis over the fact that Scoop stayed behind in a literal war zone for Starscream’s sake. I dunno that he did it specifically for Starscream, but Starscream seems pretty convinced that he did, and who am I to argue with the leader of a whole friggin’ planet?

The gang makes it to Jhiaxus’ ship, where they find-

I swear to god, if there’s not a fucking explanation for what the shit is happening right here I’m going to scream.

…So anyway, Metalhawk and Jhiaxus start beating each other up, Starscream gets bent out of shape by Jhiaxus’ trash talk, and we get an explanation for his new look.

Which, y’know, thank fucking god.

Jhiaxus has new reactive armor, which takes anything thrown at him and adapts it to his own body for personal use, which feels like some Grade-A Kids Playing Pretend bullshit, but WHATEVER.

While this is going on, Megatron and Bumblebee have run into the center of Shockwave’s Laboratory of Morally-Abhorrent Mystical Buffoonery Masquerading as the Scientific Method. Dreadwing tries to make a case for self-defense of his property, but unfortunately he doesn’t understand how property rights work, and gets blasted for his troubles. Galvatron reveals himself to be alive to Megatron, who immediately grabs the dude by the throat.

Galvatron’s feeling pretty down about having inadvertently helped end the universe, and is throwing himself a little pity party. Megatron’s not having it, however, tossing the man into the ground and revving up to fusion-cannon him to death. Bumblebee stops him, for some reason, and then starts rambling, I guess STILL trying to be Optimus Prime 2.0.

Bumblebee, you put bombs in people’s heads to make them fall into line. You don’t get to talk to Captain Warlord about moral nuance. And weren’t you also berating Metalhawk for trying this same thing not five minutes ago?

Bumblebee’s words reach Megatron, and instead of annihilating Galvatron, he offers the dude a hand up.

Then Bumblebee gets shot and dies, while Shockwave just… stares menacingly, I guess.

Cool.

The death of his very best friend in the whole wide world sends Megatron into a rage, and he punches Shockwave in the face. This doesn’t really faze him much though, as he bats Megatron across the fucking room like he’s made of papier-mâché and dreams, going on about how the universe will save Cybertron by being its power source “in an endless forever.”

Shockwave, you’re a man of science. You ought to know that “forever” as a concept, doesn’t fucking WORK scientifically. It’s nonsense. You’re nonsense, and I hate you.

Back with the Bludgeon Ass-Kicking Squad, Brainstorm’s having a bad time, while everyone else sort of awkwardly poses. Skids gets stabbed. Skids falls down. Brainstorm falls down. Ultra Magnus is concerned, but he’s too busy not being stabbed to help anyone.

Brainstorm’s in a lot of pain, and then a hand bursts out of his chest and-

GODDAMMIT JAMES.

Fucking- Team -Imus burst out of the Dead Universe from Brainstorm, who I will remind you, is undead thanks to Dead Universe lightning bullshit, making him a link between it and the much cooler Not-Dead Universe. Everyone is posing, even Cyclonus, who absolutely should think that sort of thing is beneath him, but whatever.

That’s the end of the issue. Go home.

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #dark cybertron #issue 11 #rid #exrid #issue 27 #maccadam #Hannzreads #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #text post #long post #comic script writing

59 notes · View notes

pensivetense · 3 years

Text

A List Of (Mostly TMA) Fic Recs Sorted By Vibe

Not an exhaustive list by any means, just a few favourites that caught my fancy. I shortened many of the summaries for space.

I’m going to pin this here and update it as I go.

Also, I’m pensivetense on ao3

MELANCHOLY VIBES

for when you want to feel comfortably muted

(sad but not utterly bleak endings here)

Hope, Etc. (Dickenson, et al.) by yellow_caballero

Jonathan Sims, six months after the Unknowing, wakes to find himself without a daemon - without humanity, without a soul. It’s a cursed half-life, but existence as a shell without a heart isn’t so bad: between solving the mystery of a persistent illusion cast over his friends and some light pseudo-cannibalism, a life as a monster is better than no life at all. At least, it would be, if it wasn’t for the fucking Owl.

A freaking. Amazing. Daemon au. Ties the lore of Dust with TMA lore very satisfyingly, but is mostly about Jon navigating what it means to be human, or, in the absence of that, a person, and doesn’t require prior knowledge of His Dark Materials. Cannot recommend highly enough.

after one long season of waiting by nuinuijiaojiao

Annabelle is not used to having nice things. or, Annabelle heads to Upton House, muses a little, and gets some well-deserved rest

I love survivalist Annabelle and also the concept of the Web as kind of a horrible Patron, actually.

i love you. I want us both to eat well. by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse

At the safehouse with Martin, Jon decides it's time to quit statements once and for all. The Eye disagrees. Martin just needs Jon to be okay. It's quite possible that nobody is going to get what they want.

Scottish Safehouse Era, Jon and Martin coping with their respective Entities... really, really good.

the friend by doomcountry

He always greets a new spider when he meets it. It’s instinct, born in childhood, the same way he instinctively counts magpies, or flicks salt over his left shoulder. A little harmless superstition. A bit of politesse.

A great Martin character study with eldritch spider horror included. The imagery regularly haunts me (in a good way).

autumn’s rare gift by bee_bro

Annually, the two meet, renewing the binding ritual where it had all started. The procedure simple: a waltz.

Singlehandedly made me ship Gertrude/Agnes so there’s that. It’s so bittersweet and bee_bro’s writing is, as always, incredibly poetic. (I’d recommend everything they write, actually.)

smile, you’re trending by Goodluckdetective

During an encounter with another Avatar of the Eye, Jon faces his past, Martin takes a turn at playing Kill Bill and Basira has a second look at the monster she’s determined to see. For three people associated with the Eye, they could all use some perspective.

Features an original Eye Avatar character who’s a YouTube personality; she is infuriating and inspired and genuinely frightening and I cannot say enough good things.

Humility by The_Lionheart

have you no idea that you're in deep?/i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week,/how many secrets can you keep?

An OC centric story but don’t let that put you off, it’s amazing. Very heavily focused around Jonah Magnus and the other Avatars as they change through the years. Also, I’d die for the OC.

oh, for one sweet second without the eye series by faedemon

Beholding does not like in the way humans do, but it likes its Archivist all the same.

I’m just so fond of the way this is done stylistically. I have a great weakness for dialogue only/dialogue heavy writing, not to mention all of the wonderful character beats and interplay of humanity/inhumanity for Jon and Melanie.

Rewind by WhyNotFly

It takes eight days of forced confinement for Jon to start hallucinating. [...] It’s Martin, though, that his exhausted brain conjures, because of course it’s Martin. After all this time, of course it’s Martin.

Jon willingly allows himself to be confined rather than hunting for statements, and examines his relationship with Martin.

for a firmament series by supaslim

There is beauty in destruction. There is art in becoming. In which Jon becomes the Archive, and the Archive becomes Jon.

Part two posted this morning and uhhh. Good. Also if you’re here for weird eldritch body horror (I am), this one’s for you.

ONES THAT JUST HURT

for when you want to feel sad

(somewhat bleaker endings here/everyone is NOT okay)

Feste by yellow_caballero

If asked, Martin would say that he became the shadow director of the Magnus Institute by accident. But nobody ever asked, and nobody ever cared, and it was in this way that Martin stopped lying to himself. Or: break free, Martin. All you have to lose are your chains. And your sanity.

Oh, this one totally didn’t go the way I expected it to. A study in isolation. Could go into the category above, as the ending is not bleak, but the tone of the whole is somewhat more depressing than most there.

Ghosts of Love by RavenXavier

Nothing made Martin more grounded in the world than yearning for Jonathan Sims.

Lonely!Martin that really captures a sort of visceral ache. Hurts me and yet I keep rereading.

i do desire (we may be better strangers) by godbewithyouihavedone

For ages, it only knew how to worship, taking human bodies and living off the fear of those who remembered. It never knew love until it became Jonathan Sims. Now it must fight against every instinct to save Martin Blackwood. Archivist Sasha, Not!Jon/Martin, and the worst kind of Fake Dating AU.

Oh, this one just made me sad. The poor not!them, which is something I never thought I’d say.

Apple Of Your Eye by fakeCRfan

In which the Eye is fond of Martin. Perhaps a little too fond for comfort.

Somehow manages to be both sweet and horrifying—the characterisation of the Eye is incredible. ‘The Eye loves Martin’ is a scenario that’s so utterly doomed to failure and yet the writing is packed with so much pathos that I just want them all to be happy. A fantastic use of themes of agency and choice, and the single best use of Beholding as a source of horror I’ve read.

The Last Press by copperbadge

Jon Sims is awake, and has begun preparations for the Rite of the Watcher's Crown. Peter Lukas, who woke him, would be content to rule at his side. Martin is very upset about all of this, and the Lukases aren't thrilled with it either.

I really can’t say anything without spoiling the end and it’s so good. An alternate take on the Watcher’s Crown. Not a pairing that I ever thought would work for me, but this made it work.

watch the blood evaporate by 75hearts

It starts, like so many things in Jon’s life have started, with a nagging itch of curiosity. Jonathan Sims uses his healing abilities throughout s4. Read the tags.

Dear God please read the tags. But this is some high quality pain if it’s for you.

the lighthouse series by low_fi

Peter Lukas is a lighthouse keeper. One evening, he gets a call from a cryptic overseer tasked with monitoring his work.

This is such a vivid and yet subtle story—from the setting to the emotions portrayed, it creeps up on you slowly. The ending was like the gentlest possible gut-punch. The sequel just completed, and yeah, just as wonderful. This one is very much LonelyEyes but I listed it here because it is just exquisitely painful.

SATISFYINGLY HOPEFUL VIBES

for when you want to feel cozy

Clutching Daffodils by Gemi

Martin has always liked the idea of love at first sight. It’s such a romantic idea, the whole thing of it. Seeing someone and instantly feeling that strange, twisting feeling deep inside that every single media likes to obsess over. Of knowing you are in love within the day, petals falling from your mouth and warmth filling your chest as love burrows deep, vines twisting through your lungs. He always liked the idea of it. And then Jonathan Sims starts working at the Magnus Institute.

Somehow manages to be lighter and fluffier than most hanahaki fare, despite the setting. I’ve reread this one a lot.

the least he could do by Prim_the_Amazing

Martin should in fact not pick this man, specifically because of how attracted he is to him. It would be the responsible thing to do. Except he’s already following him. And he’s hungry.

Fluffy vampire au which everyone’s probably already read, but was too good not to mention.

rather interesting by bee_bro

Jonah Magnus realizes that, for some reason, when he comes in contact with weed, Elias Bouchard's consciousness will come into his life banging pots and pans.

Oh boy. So these are all favourite fics but this one is a favourite amongst favourites. The way Jonah is characterised (i.e. incredibly sensitive to scrutiny) is my favourite depiction of him, and the slow-burn between him and Elias is far sweeter than it has any right to be. Also, it’s hilarious.

The Magnus Records series by ErinsWorks

In a world parallel to that of the Archives and the Institute, a supernatural sanctuary stands against a cruel and uncaring world: A world of bureaucracy and tyranny, of murder and carnage, of loneliness and surveillence, of plague and death. But in this world of fear and misery, 14 entities born of the hopes of the world have emerged. And one of them has made their home here, at The Magnus Sanctuary. Perhaps, the employees within may lead happier lives than their counterparts did in the Archives.

This is just so goddamn pure. The author writes a really imaginative, fleshed-out alternate world and alternate Entities with engaging, well-written short statements. All of the character voices are absolutely on point, and it’s overall absurdly hopeful without ever feeling overly saccharine. I love this series so much, you guys, you don’t even know. I want to print it out and paste it on my wall. I love it.

HARD APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel dark and angsty (and eldritch)

Most of these are shorts/oneshots because it’s just that kind of genre, y’know?

Ashes to Ashes by marrowbones

A conversation at the end of the world.

Oliver Banks is one of those minor characters that I am overly attached to. Love him here.

Employee Benefits by equals_eleven_thirds

The Magnus Institute offered some normal employee benefits: a pension plan, holidays, travel subsidies, free lunch on the last Friday of each month. Rosie makes it work.

This manages to hit that perfect sweet spot of satisfying and hilarious. Rosie gets to torment Elias, as she well deserves.

a rose by any other name by Duck_Life

Part of Jon blooms in Jared Hopworth’s garden.

This one was sad and honestly too gentle to really belong in this category, but I love it.

Eye to Eye by Dribbledscribbles

In which Jonah Magnus attempts a post-apocalyptic pep talk.

Unreliable narrator at its finest, and the implications are suitably horrific.

commensalis by doomcountry

The tower is endlessly, impossibly tall, but Jon’s work is taller.

If you’re here for the eldritch imagery, then this has some of the best.

SOFT APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel gently triumphant

apocalypse how series by sunshine_states

Humanity adjusts. The Entities have Regrets.

Some nice vignettes set in a kinder apocalypse.

ceylon series by Sciosa

The one in which Jonathan Sims decides that no, actually, he isn't going to let the world just end.

I include this only for the sake on completeness, as everyone has no doubt already read it.

rituals by doomcountry

Martin is the first person to knock on the Archivist's door since it arrived, fully, into its little waiting temple. The Archivist saw him coming from down the hall, but decides to feign interest when the knob turns, and Martin—still a little bit smaller, a little more translucent than before—stands uncertainly just outside the room.

This one’s a little less focused on the world at large and more on JonMartin specifically.

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way; (although perhaps the world itself and the darkness that exists behind it isn't quite as out to get everyone as it seems).

More ‘soft revolution’ than ‘soft apocalypse’, but has the same vibe. A time travel fix-it. Incomplete but worth it if this is a mood that appeals to you.

Scarred Ground by DictionaryWrites

“You see," Elias said softly, "people always have this idea that only living things can be scarred - and they're right, of course. But a building is a living thing, Martin. And the ground can be scarred, too." "I don't have any scars," Martin said. "Yes, you do," Elias said. "You just need the right light to see them.”

Falls somewhere between ‘Apocalypse’ and ‘Soft Apocalyse’ but I’m putting it here because I feel like it. Also technically a LonelyEyes fic. I found it hard to follow at first but it’s worth sticking with; things will eventually begin to make sense and come together.

LONELYEYES

for when you want to feel lonelyeyes

marrying anguish with one last wish by procrastinatingbookworm

In which Elias isn't Orpheus, and Peter isn't Eurydice, but Elias brings Peter home anyway.

Lives in my head rent free forever. My favourite lonelyeyes fic.

ouroboros by Wildehack

“You know,” Jonah says, a muscle in his calf quivering agreeably where it’s slung over Mordechai’s shoulder, “it’s really quite--fortunate--that I don’t care for you at all.”

Oh, this one hurts in the best possible way. The endless cycle of their relationship, the way it comes full-circle... yeah, good. Actually, no, this one might be my favourite. It’s a tie.

Breaking all the Rules by Thedupshadove

Elias proposes a somewhat...unusual wager.

Soft lonelyeyes? In my recs? It’s more likely than you think. Short, sweet, and... sweet.

Threefold by Sprinkledeath

Peter Lukas breaks three rules.

I’m just a slut for mythology allusions I guess.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight by prodigy

In 2014, Elias Bouchard takes a rare trip outside of his comfort zone. Peter Lukas wastes a bunch of money. You'd be surprised how many things can go wrong for two beings of cosmic power.

I love the sense of the history of them you get while reading this.

love is just a word (the idea seems absurd) by kaneklutz

"Something's wrong. It's stopped hurting" An avatar of the Lonely and an avatar of the Beholding walk into a bar relationship. It was bound to blow up in their faces.

Short, sweet, painful. Excellent exploration of their priorities.

Victor by penguistifical

elias tries something with his powers that he hasn't attempted before

The one where Elias tries to raise the dead. Not incredibly LonelyEyes centric but that’s still the pairing.

Simon Says by penguistifical

“Peter asked me to drop by and have a word with you, and, so, here I am.” Simon chuckles at Elias’s disbelieving stare. “Well, he asked in his own way. He’s not a complicated man, you know. He either comes from your arms looking like a stroked cat that’s been given a dish of cream or looking like he’s been in that toy boat of his out in an unexpected storm. He was far angrier than normal, so I daresay you weren’t cream today.”

I mean personally I’d just go ahead and rec all of penguistifical’s LonelyEyes fics but this is a standout for me.

AROMANTIC AND ASPEC MOODS

for when you want to feel Seen

The Aro Archives series by WhyNotFly

These are all just really really good. From Aro!Peter to two different aro-spec versions of the Scottish Safehouse to a long and beautiful aro hanahaki fic, this series is uniformly wonderful. The two Scottish Safehouse ones (Torn Edges and Murky Water) are my comfort fics.

and now all fear gives way by j_quadrifons

Before he can think it through, he murmurs, "Is that what it feels like? Being in love?" Martin's hand stills in his hair and Jon's stomach drops.

This one just. Wow yeah this is how it be. Another absolute comfort fic of mine.

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

I’m going to be honest—I didn’t know where to put this one. But it ended up here because the real standout of this fic for me is the portrayal of Sasha, and especially her portrayal as an aro character. So I’m putting it here. Mind the content warnings with this one!

HUMOUR

for when you want to feel delight

The Torment of Sebastian Skinner by Urbenmyth

After the Eye's victory, the statement givers are trapped in their horror stories, living them over and over again. Naturally, this works out better for some then for others.

Premise? Delightful. Execution? Fantastic. I read this one to cheer myself up when I’m sad.

Unlucky by VolxdoSioda

Jon’s dice betray him

Short, sweet DnD au, and the reason I cannot get DM!Elias out of my head now.

Voracious by beetl

A bird hits the window. Jon experiences The Flesh's thrall.

“Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” but make it literal.

The Stupid Endings by Urbenmyth

There are a lot of very deeply thought out and creative AUs on this site. These aren't among them. These ones are how the story could have ended, if Jonny Sims was a dumbass.

These are just uniformly hilarious, I cannot recommend them highly enough.

PODCAST CROSSOVERS

for when you want to make one of those “if I had a nickel for every time...” posts

The Sabbatical by morelikeassassin

Nicholas Waters is in need of an all-knowing eldritch entity beyond the confines of human imagining to help with his latest ritual. He'll have to settle for Jonathan Sims, who happens to have nothing better to do.

Crossover with Archive 81 (s3, specifically). Both fun and bittersweet.

The City And Its Sorrows by cuttooth

“What makes you think your friend is in Eskew?” David asks. He feels he can risk the scrutiny of the city that far. “I read that this is a place people end up when they get lost,” says the man. “This is a place people end up,” David agrees./The Archivist comes to Eskew.

Contemplative piece, and I love the way it presents David’s relationship with Eskew, the way he finds it horrible and hates it and yet belongs to it, is almost proud in the way he shows to to Jon. Great little vignette of two people oppressed by eldritch powers, intersecting.

Hiatus by bibliocratic

My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am in Eskew. (Jon gets lost in a Spiral city. It is not as easy as escaping.)

This one is far more focused on Jon than David, and is honestly more Eskew-weird than Spiral-weird. In the best way. Told in Eskew episode style, and is very good.

Sweet Music by Shella688

Eskew has a music to it, if you know how to listen. The percussion beat of thousands of footsteps, the melody in the squealing of the trains overhead. Today, the music of Eskew comes in the form of nine musicians, playing outside my office. My name is David Ward, and I am in Eskew.

Not TMA, but since a lot of Mechs fans go here—this one’s a Mechs/Eskew crossover. Short and simple, mostly David Ward centric, just a little well-written one shot I had to mention because I enjoyed it but it doesn’t have much traffic. Nice portrayal of the Mechs from an outsider’s perspective, and how genuinely strange and frightening they’d come across (especially if you’re already being haunted by and eldritch city). If you like Eskew-style storytelling, check it out!

NOT TMA

...but good enough that I physically cannot make a recs list without including them. Here!

#tma #the magnus archives #fic recs #long post #i'm not kidding you guys it's long #so be warned before you click read more #pinned on my blog

52 notes · View notes

magnusmysteries · 3 years

Text

Part 11: Supernatural Encyclopedia Brown

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

Something important happens in the episode Doomed Voyage. Something that is not obvious, but it’s possible to figure it out. Maybe some of you’ll enjoy figuring it out on your own? If so, listen carefully to the episode and think of it like a mystery.

I’ll give you some hints below, if you want them.

Hint 1: In the episode Ignorance, John is the presence of the camera. So his powers don't work, including the power to make people tell the truth.

Hint 2: Floyd is knocked unconscious for a few seconds. What is the purpose of this, from a narrative point of view?

Hint 3: Diamonds is a clue.

Hint 4: Card game is a clue.

Hint 5, last hint: Annabelle Cain didn’t kill Salesa.

The solution: Gantulga killed Salesa and took his place. Gantulga had taken the rug, an artifact of the Spiral. The rug can be used to create illusions, and Gantulga used it to cheat in a card game against Floyd and take his money. Gantulga gave the illusion that he had different cards than it did. But using an artifact of the Fears isn’t safe and the pattern from the rug attacked Gantulga. The pattern had diamonds. I think it also had hearts, spades and clubs. But Floyd only saw the pattern briefly and the pattern was moving, so he didn’t notice. The pattern forced itself into Gantulga and made him an avatar of the Spiral. Now he can create illusions without the rug, and the rug is blank and useless.

Now here comes Salesa and he is mad. Gantula knows he’s in trouble. Earlier in the story Salesa threw Jésus overboard for messing with the cargo. Gantulga knows he’s in for the same treatment. He fights Salesa. Salesa is getting old and tired, as established earlier in the story. Gantulga wins and throws Salesa overboard. He used his new illusion powers to make it seem like he is Salesa and Salesa is him. Floyd doesn’t notice the switch, as he is conveniently knocked unconscious when it happens. Gantulga also throws the now blank rug overboard, maybe worried that the pattern would leave him and get back on the rug and expose him. Gantula is exhausted, having thrown such a big man overboard.

Floyd noticed that “Salesa” is behaving differently. He gets drunk for two days. He hardly speaks. He doesn’t have a plan. That’s Gantula not knowing what to do. He gets drunk because he is upset about the trouble he’s in. He doesn't speak much, ‘cause he’s afraid he’ll give himself away. Later Floyd says about Salesa “he had this… wild energy I’d never seen in him before”. Because the real Salesa didn’t have wild energy, he was pretty calm.

Somebody hires Gantulga to get the camera. When Gantulga is on the island he breaks the camera lens. That way the camera stops working and he can keep being disguised. Two of the four men that go with Gantulga to get the camera do not return. Maybe the two men saw Salesa turn into Gantulga when they were close to the camera and Gantulga had to kill them.

Gantulga and the captain go to sell the camera. There is an explosion and only the captain returns. Quote “Some tried to ask the captain about Salesa, but he just shook his head. He wasn’t making much sense. We managed to gather the two of them had left early to deliver the artefact, but something had gone wrong. There had been an argument. They had been betrayed. Salesa was dead. The captain died soon after; the shrapnel trapped in his skull finally getting the better of him.”

I think the Captain had realized Salesa was Gantulga. Perhaps the person buying the camera wanted to test if it was real and repaired it with a new lens. But then maybe the Captain walks in on them and sees Salesa is actually Gantulga. Because of the shrapnel in the head the captain’s not able to explain the confusing thing that Salesa was already dead long before the explosion happened. That’s why it sounds like he’s not making much sense.

In Ignorance Gantulga can't be disguised because the camera has been repaired and is working. But that's okay because John, Martin and Annabelle don't know what Salesa looks like.

In Ignorance Gantulga, as Salesa, says he once sold the broken camera to a scared old man. This is a lie, the camera does not work when it is broken. The lie is to hide the fact that Gantulga broke the camera.

If you are skeptical of Gantulga taking Salesa’s place, without it there are many elements to the story that serve no part of the plot: Floyd being unconscious. The death of Gantulga. The rug. The death of Jésus. The strange behavior of Salesa after Gantulga’s death. The shrapnel in the captain’s head, and his inability to make sense. There is also no obvious reason why Salesa would want to throw the rug overboard. There is also the fact that we don’t hear what happened on the island, which seemed like it would have been the most exciting part of the story. Why leave it out, unless there was something to hide?

In Ignorance Gantula is able to lie to John, because of the camera. But why was he still pretending to be Salesa? And who ordered him to find the camera? I’ll talk about it in a later post.

#the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #salesa #mikaele salesa

11 notes · View notes

sorptomber · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on the TMA finale

before we even get into it: this is a negative post. I am not happy. Does this mean you can’t be happy? Of course not! If you got the ending you wanted then im happy for you but figuring this is where I posted all of my magnus stuff, I might as well make one last post about it here. Spoilers, obviously. (also jonny if you see this dont take it personal xx)

My english teacher always tells us that if we’re in an exam and we’ve written a few amazing paragraphs on an essay, if there’s only 10 minutes left in the exam then you’re better off just ending your essay there rather than add on a shitty rushed paragraph because it’ll bring down your mark rather than raise it because you wrote more. This is exactly how I feel with tma, especially season 5.

I got into magnus around this time last year, it definitely took me a while to fully enjoy it though. After listening to the first 10 episodes, I hopped onto the tma subreddit and basically asked “is every episode statements?” because I wasn’t interested in them in the slightest. I’d heard about the podcast from jonmartin fanart so I expected a lot more character interaction. I fought through the first two seasons, loved the third season, adored the fourth season just for the angst and got a start on season 5 (I was fully caught up by the time 171 came out) I thought to myself “oh hey, one episode per. domain that’s cool, whatever, kinda boring but at least we’re getting to know this apocalyptic world.” What poor little me didn’t know was that the majority of season 5 would just be worldbuilding. over and over and over again. The fact they repeated fears for domains had me more horrified than any of the other statements. I obviously stopped listening a while afterwards because I genuinely found it so boring.

I read the transcripts, if I even bothered looking at the episode at all. And I think this is where season 5 absolutely fails and kind of fucks up the entire show. We’re used to one base setting, the archives, and we’ve never really been told much about it’s appearance because it looks like a normal ass archive. Before or after each statement we’re used to having SOME sort of character interaction, jon and tim fighting or melanie going fuckin ham, thats the shit I actually listened for. In season 5 it’s all just walking and talking with jon and martin and while that doesnt sound bad, NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS BETWEEN EPISODES. they just talk about the same things, have bad communication and maybe have a few cute moments so that it isnt all doom and gloom, but besides that there’s not actual substance. tma was a show where it kind of caters to two groups, the lot who just want short horror stories read by a random ass british dude and the lot who want plot and character interaction. Seasons 1-4 had both but season 5 was majority just horror anthology. That’s not a bad thing in concept, but it’s a bad thing if you suddenly get rid of most characters and decimate anything actually interesting for the remaining characters to talk about other than “what do you think will happen,” “where do you think this person is,” and random exposition, exposition which is so constantly repeated that characters within the show bring up how it’s said so often.

What frustrated me so much about the finale was that there was literally no need for it. We’ve spent nearly 30 episodes being told everything, more than everything, about this apocalyptic world, yet when it comes to the finale it’s ALL up to interpretation? I’ve listened to so much shit about this world that really failed to interest me all, telling myself itll be worth it for the ending, just for it to end with “i dont know, you decide.” It really feels like a fuckin punch in the gut. It was predictable (which isn’t always a bad thing, but this was VERY predictable) and unsatisfying. I know I’m not alone on this either, I’ve spoken to friends who have thought the exact same thing. It was altogether just a very disappointing end to such a fantastic show.

Personally, I feel like it could have ended pretty nicely at season 3 or 4, maybe jon could have died at the end of season 3, leaving martin behind to deal with elias plans, thats pretty tragic. Or at the end of season 4 maybe jon could have actually killed jonah himself and then run away with martin to safe house, maybe they decide to start a new life there and they never hear from Basira, Melanie or Georgie again, neither of them know what Dasies fate was. Obviously this is just off the top of my head, and I’m pretty sure Jonny had this planned out from the start. I think he still made an incredible piece of media, it get me out of a really bad case of art block and basically carried me through the first lockdown, but I think it’s the execution that let it down in the end.

I don’t know. this is all just me rambling, but I figured I had to let it all out somewhere. magnus was a great experience and I’m glad I got to be a part of the fandom while it was arguably at it’s peak. I’ll definitely keep an eye on rusty quill and jonnys works, but I have to say that I’m just really dissappointed with how magnus ended after the amazing run it had.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #spoilers #rant

8 notes · View notes

ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 35: Sasha

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Jon asks anxiously.

“I’m fine, Jon,” Sasha says for what feels like the tenth time in the last three minutes. “Phone’s fully charged, so is my laptop. The trapdoor is unlocked and I can get there from my desk in fifteen seconds flat, I’ve timed it. And if all else fails”—she waves her tape recorder at him—“I’ve got this, so there will at least be a record of whatever happens to me.”

Jon frowns. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Sasha sighs.

It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate that her boss has her best interests at heart. She does. And they’re all friends, and that helps too. But Jon’s paranoia has been back in full force since his encounter with Nikola Orsinov. Tim and Martin are fairly good at tempering it, from what she’s noticed, but he still jumps at small noises and insists they stay together in pairs whenever possible. She doesn’t blame him, especially after they tell the Primes what happened and Jon Prime nearly has a panic attack before he manages to pull himself together. The situation feels like it’s balanced on the edge of a razor blade separating a lake of fire on one side and a bottomless pit on the other—like their choices are to maintain the balance and risk bleeding out before they can get to the other side, or fall to one side or the other and trust in a rescue.

Sasha can admit, if only to herself, that she’s curious about what a lake of fire might feel like to swim in, or if a bottomless hole is truly bottomless, but she’s not going to doom the whole world just to see what happens if she does.

“Jon. It’s okay,” she repeats. “It’s ten in the morning. The building is full of people. I’ll be as safe as I can be. Besides, someone’s got to be here in case someone wants to see what we do in the basement or Elias decides to stop lurking in the shadows and come down to cause havoc. You three have had this planned for weeks.” Raising her voice a little, she adds, “And someone’s got to stop Tim from attempting to fistfight the waxworks because he thinks they’re going to attack.”

“Shut up, Sasha,” Tim calls from the other side of the Archives, where he’s reshelving his files.

Jon smiles, if a bit reluctantly. “And we do both need to be there, if he’s serious about…all right. Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“Cross my heart.” Sasha returns the smile. “You three be careful, too. If I hear about any of you on the twelve o’clock news, I’ll—”

“Disavow any knowledge of us and refuse our phone calls from jail?” Martin supplies as he returns from wherever he’s been and picks up his jacket.

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to milk my association with you for all it’s worth. Can you imagine how much the media would pay for an exclusive interview with a close friend of the Waxwork Assassins?”

Jon’s laugh sounds a little unwilling, but from the slight easing in the tension in his shoulders, Sasha guesses she hit the right note. She can’t make him smile as easily as Martin or Tim can, but every once in a while she manages it.

“Don’t work too hard,” Tim says, clapping her on the shoulder as he passes.

“I intend to break out the champagne as soon as you leave,” Sasha shoots back. “Go. Have fun. Try not to punch anything.”

“See you tomorrow, Sasha,” Martin says.

Sasha walks them to the door of the Archives and waves as they set off, Tim on one side and Martin on the other. It’s one of those arbitrary Saturdays Elias has once a quarter where he declares the Institute open to anyone, not just academics, which means they’re all supposed to be in until noon. He always declares them less than a week in advance, though, and Sasha’s fellow team members have already made plans to spend a few hours at Madame Tussauds; partly it’s that they want to see if they can figure out what the Not-Sasha was doing there in the Primes’ time, partly it’s that none of them ever really go off and do anything fun outside their house and they frankly deserve it. Sasha also knows that Tim is going to practice what he’s been learning, about targeting his vision. She’s not sure if that’s knowledge granted to her by the Eye or if she just knows Tim well enough to have figured it out; either way, she wonders if Jon and Martin are aware of it and if she should have warned them. Then she recalls Jon’s half-finished sentence and mentally kicks herself. Of course Jon and Martin are aware of what Tim’s planning. He’s trying to be better about communicating—they all are—so of course he would have told them, probably when he booked their tickets for today. He probably just forgot she hadn’t been part of the conversation.

She heads back to her desk and tells herself not to worry. They’ll be fine.

Settling in at her computer, she goes back to the research she’s doing on this current statement. Martin’s new cross-indexing system pulled up several potential matches, and she’s digging to see if any of it pans out. (Although, considering the nature of the statement, maybe she shouldn’t use phrases like that.) It’s definitely a Flesh statement; unlike the others, which can be more subtle, the Flesh is blatantly obvious when it turns up.

After a few minutes, though, she gives up. She does not have the stomach for this, not today. Instead, she clicks through a few layers of security until she’s in her private, hidden part of her laptop and her private research project. She’s got a few notes to dictate, and she doesn’t like taking work home with her, so she scoops up her laptop and the new tape recorder that matches her nails and retreats to the depths of Document Storage. They prefer doing their unofficial tapes…not on the main floor. It makes them feel a little better, she supposes.

It’s Martin who carved out the space in the boxes, carefully shuffling them around until there’s a little niche just wide enough for a comfortable chair, with an extra box missing from the layer so there’s somewhere to set drinks or notes as the case may be. It’s Tim who found the worn but sturdy armchair at a charity shop, and, surprisingly, it’s Jon who bought what is possibly the world’s tackiest slipcover, what Sasha can only class as “electric paisley”. Tim claims it looks exactly like what he sees when he looks at the shelves in the Archives, but only to Sasha and Martin; he doesn’t even joke about it in front of Jon. Sasha can’t decide if it’s sweet or something she should be concerned about.

She settles into the armchair, legs folded into the lotus position beneath her, and sets her laptop on the note box, then clicks on her tape recorder.

“Research of Sasha James, Archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding the heads of the Institute, past and present,” she says. “Recorded eleventh February, 2017. Notes on Director Thomas Fitzwalter, fourth Head of the Institute, tenure 1940 to 1941.”

At least she doesn’t have a lot of people to look into. In some ways, her self-appointed task is easier than Tim’s or Martin’s, just because the scope is so much tighter. In other ways, of course, it’s harder. Tim only needs to work with himself, and Martin’s index is entirely self-contained within the Archives and their ongoing research. Sasha may only have a total of seven people to actually look into, but they’re hard to pin down. Partly it’s their age; records that predate digital record-keeping are trickier to search, as she has to hope they’ve been indexed online or find a library that might have the resources she needs. Partly it’s the fact that, well, they’re men who were only nominally themselves and were actually Jonah Magnus. Naturally he wouldn’t want people looking too closely at them.

But she’s struck, as she describes the details she’s been able to pull up about the man who had the shortest tenure as Institute Head due to what was either a poorly-timed or well-timed German bomb, by just how unremarkable all of the people she’s looked into were. None of them were standouts in their field, students from prestigious universities, or the scions of powerful families—which has to be a first in academia. She’s working her way backwards, so maybe she’ll find something different with the two men between Jonah Magnus and Thomas Fitzwalter, but so far, not a single one of them has been remotely distinguished, and in any other institute it would be a shock for them to ascend to head it up. Especially so quickly.

“I’m kind of curious as to why the Eye didn’t warn Fitzwalter about the attack in time to get under cover,” she muses. “I’m still doing research into him, so it’s possible he just wasn’t very likable or intelligent, but—”

“Hello?”

“Shit,” Sasha hisses. It’s not one of her boys—or Elias, which is a plus—but that means it’s someone she needs to deal with. “End recording.”

She snaps off the tape, pockets the recorder, closes her laptop, and hastens out to the main Archives with a smile plastered on her face. It falters when she sees who’s standing there—none other than P.C. Basira Hussain, arms folded tightly across her chest. Sasha is ready to get defensive, but then she takes a closer look at her face. She looks…grim is one word for it. Haunted is another. Gutted might come closest.

“Officer Hussain?” she says cautiously.

Basira makes a good effort at glaring at her, but it’s not particularly intimidating. “Was looking for J—Sims.”

“He’s out today,” Sasha answers. “It’s just me, I’m afraid. Can I help you?”

Basira makes a noncommittal noise. “That happen often? Them leaving you to hold down the fort on your own?”

“No, usually there are at least two of us around at all times, especially these days. But we’re also not usually here on Saturdays,” Sasha says. “Open house. Director Bouchard”—she says his name in the clipped, precise, tight-lipped manner of a woman in a male-dominated industry speaking of a superior who would like to keep it that way—“scheduled it somewhat last-minute, and the others already had plans for the afternoon.”

“And they made you stay, did they? Typical men.”

“Actually, I offered. I’ve taken more days off in the last year than all three of them put together, not counting when Martin was out on medical leave after his stint as a colander.”

Basira almost smiles. Sasha sets her laptop on her desk and comes closer. “Okay, I’ve got to ask—is this a professional visit or a personal one? Not like that,” she adds quickly when Basira stiffens. “I know you’re not—Jon doesn’t seem like your type. I just meant—are you here as a cop or…?”

“No, it’s…” Basira sighs heavily. “Just needed to talk to him, I guess. I called yesterday and—”

Sasha remembers now. Jon came out of his office and had Martin pull up all the cases they’ve come across involving the name Maxwell Rayner. “Yeah, I—he mentioned that.”

“He did,” Basira says flatly.

Shit, they’re not supposed to know Basira is feeding him those tapes…but then Sasha thinks, to hell with it. “Yeah. It’s hard to keep secrets around here, you know? Turns out we’re all developing spooky supernatural powers, and mine is that sometimes I know things without knowing how I know them. I mean, sometimes I can Know things on purpose, but mostly it’s just passing by someone and accidentally plucking a secret out of their brain without meaning to. Let me tell you, I did not need to know that the man behind the counter at my favorite coffee shop has a foot fetish.”

“I dunno, that might be useful in the summer if you’re the type to wear sandals.” Basira relaxes, just a fraction, which surprises Sasha more than a little. “What did he say?”

“Just that you’d called and asked about Maxwell Rayner. Look, have a seat, you look like you’re about to fall over. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? There’s some peppermint hot cocoa, too, if that strikes your fancy.” Sasha means it—Basira does look like she needs some fortification, and maybe to talk and get something off her chest—but if she’s being honest, she’s also burning with curiosity about what happened. She’s got to be careful about bringing that up, though. “Sorry we don’t have anything stronger, but, you know, we’re pretending to be professional.”

“Actually, that cocoa doesn’t sound too bad,” Basira mutters. She drops into Tim’s chair and leans her folded arms on his desk, staring at the surface like it holds the secrets of the universe.

Sasha hurries over to their tea station and pulls out one of the spare mugs they rarely use, along with the mug that long ago became hers. Cocoa sounds good, actually. It was grey and overcast when she came in, and she Knows without meaning to that it’s just barely warm enough that it’s raining instead of snowing, so it’s a good day for cocoa. She gives a fleeting thought to wondering if the Primes are warm enough in the stone tunnels, then goes back to making the cocoa.

“Here,” she says, handing the guest mug to Basira. “Made with water, not milk, but I mix a little bit of creamer into it. Works a treat.”

“Thanks,” Basira mutters.

As Sasha takes her seat, she notices her tape recorder sitting on her desk. It was definitely in her pocket a minute ago, and she definitely didn’t take it out, but there it is, innocuously resting next to her laptop. And, she notices, it’s running.

It’s not really a surprise, in some ways. Obviously Basira has a statement, and obviously it’s the real McCoy. It just startles Sasha that the tape recorder turned itself on…and for her. She sort of figured that only happens for Jon. It’s honestly a bit of a thrill, knowing that whatever is behind these tapes recognizes her.

She collects herself. “I take it that…whatever you were asking about Rayner for didn’t go well?”

Basira takes a long drink of her cocoa. “We lost Altman. Just…wasn’t paying attention. Don’t know what they’re going to tell his family. Guess it could have been worse, though, if I hadn’t talked to your boss first, so…tell him I said thanks.”

Sasha reaches over and squeezes Basira’s free hand as comfortingly as she can. Surprisingly, Basira grips it back. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean…I know you’re probably bound by all kinds of confidential agreements and all that, but you can ask any of the others, I’m really good at keeping secrets. We’re trying not to keep secrets from each other, but if you tell me not to say anything to them, I won’t. Just between you and me and whatever’s at the other end of the tape recorder that I absolutely did not turn on myself, by the way. Did you?”

Basira stares at it. “Fuck. Didn’t even notice it was on.” She takes a deep breath. “You know, I—I think I do want to talk about it. Don’t even care if you tell the others, or play them the tape or whatever, just…I need to talk to someone, I think. And with all those Section Thirty-One forms, this is probably the only place I can talk about it. Sure the only place I can talk about it and not feel crazy.”

Sasha nods. “Be glad you didn’t come in a year, year and a half ago. Jon’s skeptic act was legendary.”

“I’ll bet. He looks like a skeptic who got thrown in the deep end.” Basira makes an attempt at a smile. “Where do you want me to start?”

“As the King of Hearts said to the White Rabbit, ‘Begin at the beginning, and go on until you reach the end: then stop.’”

“Alice in Wonderland. Fitting. That’s about what it felt like.” Basira sets down the mug on the table. “Well then. I guess the beginning is with the disappearance of Callum Brodie.”

Sasha keeps her eyes on Basira’s face as she describes the events at the Outer Bay Shipping industrial complex in Harringay. There’s just a little bit of static in her ears as she listens, but mostly it’s just Basira’s voice and the story she’s telling. It is…objectively terrifying, to be honest. Sasha’s always been just a little bit afraid of the dark, or at least of what might be hiding in the dark, and although she never says anything to the others, the Dark statements get to her. She’s never heard one live, though. Never sat with someone and felt their terror coursing through the loop of the shared space between them as they describe coming face to face with one of the two entities Sasha is willing to admit she genuinely fears (the other, obviously, being the Stranger, and she’s still not sure if that’s because of what it did to her Prime counterpart or because of what it did to Tim or just because it’s the natural enemy of the entity she’s bound to). It’s compelling, and the air seems charged with something, but she can’t say what.

“I think they were connected to that cult group from way back, the Church of the Divine whatever,” Basira says at last. She sounds drained.

“The People’s Church of the Divine Host,” Sasha supplies. “Rayner was their leader back in the nineties. We’ve had—God, how many statements about them? I can probably pull them for you if you want.”

“I don’t,” Basira says firmly. “Not even a little. I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few days, and…I’m done. With the police, with Section Thirty-One, all of it. Was going to tell Jon in person, but if he’s not here, this is the best I can do. Anyway, you all have my statement. I felt like I owed it to you.”

Sasha tilts her head to one side. “You’re really quitting?”

“Yeah. And you should, too. All of you. This place…it’s not right.”

Sasha can’t help the soft snort of laughter. “No kidding. I can’t, though.”

Basira raises an eyebrow. “Have to see it through? Or is it loyalty to your coworkers?”

She sounds bitter—like she’s talking from personal experience. Sasha wants to probe at that, but throttles it back. First of all, Basira is a lot pricklier than the rest of Team Archives, she won’t respond to her the same way. And second of all, she is actively trying to be less of an arse about that sort of thing. Instead, she decides for complete honesty. “No, it’s the sort of thing you’re done with. I’m being literal when I say I can’t quit. We’re bound to the Institute—to the Archives. If any of us try to leave, we’ll die.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get offered a job here,” Basira says dryly. She squeezes Sasha’s hand—it’s only then Sasha realizes they’ve maintained that physical contact throughout the entirety of her statement—then stands up. “Tell Jon I said to stay safe.”

Sasha stands, too, and watches her head to the door. Before she gets there, though, she calls out, “Basira.”

Basira stops and looks back over her shoulder. “What?”

Sasha should ask about the tapes—Jon’s going to want to know, they all want to know, and if Basira quits the force they might have to ask Daisy to bring them and nobody wants that—but what comes out of her mouth is, “Keep a light on for a while. It—I don’t want it to come after you, too.”

Basira studies her for a moment, then gives a small half-smile. “I will. Thanks, Sasha.” With that, she leaves the Archives.

Click! The tape recorder shuts itself off. Sasha stares at it for a moment, then swears. Unlike the others, she didn’t grow up functionally bilingual, so her profanity is limited to English and the smattering of dirty words she and her classmates looked up in French class, but she makes good use of them. She hits the button to rewind the tape with one hand and fishes out her phone with the other. Calling up the obnoxiously-named group chat, she hastily thumbs a message: [Let me know when you’re done.]

That done, she opens her laptop again and sets into some serious research.

Nobody ever visits the Archives on Open House days; the only people who ever come down here anyway are students doing dissertations who need firsthand accounts, especially older ones, and no self-respecting student works on a Saturday morning. So there’s no one to interrupt her as she clicks through Martin’s index, then switches her focus to the onerous task of following the twists and threads of corporate ownership. They haven’t done much research into Maxwell Rayner, either, or at least not as much as they should, so Sasha broadens her search for the name. What she comes up with nearly steals the breath from her lungs. It’s a coincidence, it has to be…

“Sasha?”

Sasha jumps, nearly flipping her laptop across the desk, and whips her head around to see Jon, Martin, and Tim coming towards her, looking worried. “Jesus, you three scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering. We got worried,” Martin says, pointing at her phone.

Sasha looks and sees that she’s missed fifteen texts in the group chat, starting with [We’re done. What’s up?] and devolving from there into mild panic. She flushes. “Sorry. I guess I got a bit wrapped up in my research…didn’t expect you to be done so quickly. Um, how did it go?”

“Fine. Stranger-free,” Tim answers. “One of the staff members has something, though. Jon smelled the statement on her—”

“That makes it sound worse, somehow,” Jon mutters.

“—and I’m pretty sure it’s a Desolation,” Tim continues. “Hopefully she stops by at some point so we can confirm that. What are you still doing here?”

Martin looks over her shoulder at the page called up on her screen. “Max—? Basira. She called back?”

“She was here,” Sasha tells him. She points at her recorder. “The operation she was on went sideways. It’s all on there, but if you’re going to listen, I need to be somewhere else.”

“No, it’s—some other time, maybe.” Jon rubs his forehead. “Summarize for us?”

“Rayner and his…cult, or what’s left of it, kidnapped a boy named Callum Brodie about three weeks ago,” Sasha answers. “The police apparently got a tip-off as to where they’d taken him—a place up in Harringay registered to Outer Bay Shipping. They had a raid yesterday and it was pretty much entirely sectioned officers. Basira called you as soon as she realized that, and by the way, she says thank you for the tip about the lights, because it’s probably the only reason they didn’t all end up dead.” She pauses, wondering how to wrap it all into a neat package, then finally says, “Details are on the tape, but the long and the short of it is that some…really dark stuff came pouring out of Rayner’s mouth and tried to go into Callum Brodie. The officer who shot him probably stopped that from happening, and from the sound of it, the kid’s going to be okay. Rayner is dead. So are three other cult members and one officer. And Basira’s quitting the force. I get the feeling this was kind of the straw that broke the camel’s back for her.”

Jon exhales, hard. “Christ.”

Martin is still studying the screen over her shoulder. “Sasha, this is—does that say what I think it does?”

“Yep. It doesn’t look like Mr. Rayner was particularly subtle.” Sasha looks up at Martin and can see in his eyes that he’s reached the same conclusion she has. Turning to Jon and Tim, who both look confused, she elaborates, “Maxwell Rayner, and the People’s Church of the Divine Host, are associated with the Dark, right? And darkness was flowing out of him into Callum Brodie.”

Jon’s face goes ashen. “Are you saying they were trying to initiate him into their cult? To—to mark him? Christ, how old is he?”

“Twelve, but…no, not exactly. Worse.” Sasha taps one fingernail on the edge of her laptop. “I widened my search for Rayner to before the nineties, especially in conjunction with…weird stuff, and I found this buried in a site about Edmund Halley. The description tallies pretty damn closely with the description of the man in the nineties, so either it’s a family line that doesn’t use suffixes—”

“Or,” Tim says, his eyes going wide with horror, “Maxwell Rayner has been extending his life by taking over new bodies as he ages out of the old one.”

“Or,” Martin adds softly, “stealing the life force of other people. Christ, I’d think that’d be more a Terminus power, but…I guess it’s possible?”

“Darkness. Like—” Jon breaks off the rest of the sentence, but he doesn’t need to say it. They all know what he’s thinking of. Sasha just hopes Elias isn’t paying attention to them right now. “I suppose that’s something we’ll have to…run down.”

“Good idea.” Sasha closes her laptop and stands up, palming the recorder. “Let’s go do that right now.”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #time travel fix it au #sasha james #basira hussain

7 notes · View notes

sourbat · 3 years

Note

Magnus for the shipping meme? Or Charles, if someone sent Mags already :3

well, this also got kinda long, but here’s old Magnus

My NOTP for them: Magnusface? Hammerface? Either way, it just feels like another low blow for Murderface to deal with. Plus I already HC them as having an almost brotherly bond, with Murderface essentially appeasing and avoiding a lot of the issues others had with Magnus near the end. For some reason, adding any layer of romance to that feels kinda fucked up, especially because Magnus is taking advantage of Murderface’s affections to some extent. Dude doesn’t need that.

My BROTP for them: Murderface. Again, I have a lot of “Murderface adopts X trait from Magnus, and cultivates it into part of his identity.” Like he starts off as a copy cat, but eventually the shared interests become their own thing. I do think he does this with other people, but Magnus was big part of Murderface learning to adopt his own identity. I just like thinking Magnus realized this was a kid with severe identity issues (much like himself) and decided to take him under his wing. And Magnus would mostly be fine with the mimicry, maybe even flattered by the fact someone is willing to “appease” him that much.

My OTP for them: Magtok/Hammertooth. What a shocker. And what can I possibly say that hasn’t already been mentioned, except that this is a ship with so many possibilities. There are a lot of areas that have yet to be written or explored. And because of their difficult past, it’s a ship that one has the opportunity to take their time with. If anything, it’s one of the few ships where taking things slow is a bonus. I’m well aware that this is a pairing that is hard to sell because of the canon content, but I also believe those who are willing to read a discussion as to what occurred in the film will be surprised by the fact that it’s something that’s been accounted for in the fics. I’ve written “problematic” ships before, and have read pics where issues of past abuse are poorly handled (even in my own works). Most magtok writers really care about these two, and have zero issues having Magnus own up to it. There are a lot of magtok fics out there that take their time treading through these characters’ past ordeals, fights and moments of violence, and it’s honestly enlightening to see. I’m looking forward to the future writers taking this ship to the “next level” and handling other unsaid aspects, like Magnus and Toki receiving the care they need immediately following the movie, and later after the events of G2. I’m curious to see how people (and toki) actually intend to get Magnus into therapy, and Magnus helpingToki manage his alcoholism. Magnus conversing with other characters and earning their forgiveness (if possible) after they witness firsthand how Toki’s changed positively since entering a relationship with him. Toki and Magnus talking about the things Magnus did to Toki, and Toki explaining why he does forgive Magnus. There are so many untapped stories, each with their own interpretations. I haven’t even talked about all the AUs…anyways, I like Hammertooth.

My second choice pairing for them: MagPickles. I think I described it best on twitter, that these are “two insecure bottom favoring verses who are constantly attempting to one-up the other in order to not appear as insecure as they are deep inside.” Both of these guys have problems, and neither are the solution. Magnus fantasizes about having a famous rock star boyfriend that he can both somehow idolize and control, and Pickles wants to be recognized as something greater, and s kinda willing to do a few favors to appear that way. They’re also both addicts and have a whole slew of past traumas. In theory, this ship should function like my hammertooth, but because they’re both so young and prideful, lack the proper means to recognize their problems (much less discuss them), and are living in such a unpredictable setting, there isn’t any chance for them to help the other out. This is sort of a doomed ship in the preklok sense; however, I’ve played with post DSR and G2 Magpickles, and think it can work. They just need a massive disaster for them to sit their asses down and discuss over tea.

My fluffy pairing for them: MMAgnus because what’s cuter than an enraged bear and an old, decrepit otter hugging? (answer: magtok. The real answer is magtok)

My angsty pairing for them: MagCharles. As far as post DSR Magnus ships go, this one feels the most bleak. I do not see Charles ever forgiving Magnus fully. At best, he puts some blame on the prophecy, but at the end of the day, knows Magnus didn’t need to go as far as he did with Toki to prove a point. The only way I can see this ship fully working out is in a AU, otherwise it’s them hurting each other constantly as they tear at each other, trying to find the man they lost ages ago.

My favorite poly ship for them: Magnus/Pickles/Toki I think the idea behind with this one started when Razz and I asked ourselves what would happen if Pickles didn’t have Charles, and no one to help settles all those ugly voices in his head? Well, us being magtok shippers, our very obvious solution was to dump the couple who’s all about fixing bad head states, and hand him Toki and Magnus. Who are both his exes in this universe. But, funnily enough, it’s the fact that all three of these men are better at solving each others’ problems than their own that keeps this ship afloat. Like, Toki withdraws, Magnus explodes, and Pickles flees when they’re faced with their own issues to handle. But Pickles has always been the guy to help a bro out, even putting himself second if he has to for his friends’ sake. Toki also is incredibly caring and has been shown to be incredibly patient and forgiving, to the point where others take advantage of it. While Magnus himself will always be rough around the corners, we all have our interpretation of what kind of person he’d be like after he and Toki help one another, and most of the time he’s very thoughtful and protective (if not a little obsessed), but tends to neglect his own needs. Together, they’re three idiots who help one another out, and when they’re not it’s usually a bunch of immature jokes and the bathroom drained getting clogged every week.

My weirdest pairing for them: Magnus/Melmord/Toki I’ll be real, this ship exists solely because it looks pretty and absolutely nothing else. Anyways, after some time in therapy and accepting the consequences of his actions, why not reward Magnus with two hot, younger guys? I don’t know, that seems fair, right?

#lampmeeting #magnus hammersmith #Thank You

4 notes · View notes