#mag pod fic
Text
QUIT: a One-Shot Magnus Archives Fic
It’s a stupid-drafty manor—huge, never properly lit, all its frippery fraying at the edges. It has literal skeletons in the walls. It has too many rooms, a foyer right out of Crimson Peak, an empty cement hole with crumbling cherubs in the back yard that might have once been someone’s idea of a pond, and a library with more cursed books than Gerry could shake a match at.
The part of Gerry that once used Sharpies to blacken his eyebrows loves this place with a truly unholy passion.
If only it didn’t belong to the reason the world was going to end.
——-
Tragedy one-shot? Check.
Extinction Martin? Check.
Gerry/Jon if you squint? Check.
Bittersweet ending? Check.
Major character death. Y'all are warned.
AO3 link | Playlist
QUIT
“Really?” says Gerry.
Jon won’t look at him. Instead, he exhales, smoke funneling between his lips in a slow, controlled fog. “Really.”
Gerry rolls his eyes.
“I felt that,” says Jon, who isn’t looking at him, who doesn’t need to look at him anymore to know what Gerry does.
“So today’s a day of broken promises, is it?” says Gerry, leaning on the wall beside him. The brick shows through his arms; breeze picks up, erasing the evidence of Jon’s transgression, but doesn’t move Gerry’s long hair at all.
“I’m not breaking a promise,” says Jon. “I’m… relapsing.”
“Elias?” says Gerry.
“No,” says Jon, and takes another drag.
Gerry’s sigh matches pace with Jon’s exhale. Elbow on the wall, he props his head on his hand, watching Jon.
“So it’s floors and short walls, now,” Jon remarks, still not looking at him. “Or are you just pretending to lean on that? Getting a ghostly core workout? Or is it only horizontal structures that support you?”
Gerry laughs softly. “Keep asking, Archivist. I’m sure it’ll all make sense someday.”
“There have to be rules of some kind,” Jon says, and points at Gerry with the cigarette. “And you know not to call me Archivist.”
“If you’re going to be a twat, I get to call you what I want,” says Gerry.
Jon doesn’t rise to that, doesn’t respond at all, and that’s how Gerry knows it was really bad today.
Jon exhales again.
The smoke drifts away from them, lingering over dead grass, past the few old-growth trees in the back of the estate, dissipating in the direction of the town.
“So,” says Gerry, drawing the word out. “What’d he do?”
“Made me watch,” says Jon, which means exactly nothing.
“That’s every day.” And he guesses. “Did you finally find Martin?”
Jon’s jaw tightens. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s nice,” says Gerry, who never learned good boundaries growing up, who never lived in a world that rewarded them. “What was it then? Basira hot on the trail?”
“Fuck,” says Jon, so quietly it almost didn’t happen, and finally stubs out the cigarette on the wall. Defiantly, he leaves it there.
“You know that won’t upset Elias, right?” says Gerry as Jon walks away. “You’re littering, Dickavist.”
Jon pauses. “Pick it up yourself, then, unless the rules say you can’t,” he snaps, and walks away.
Wow. It was really bad today.
Gerry shrugs to no one and floats back inside.
#
Gerry still doesn’t feel things the way he should. There’s a numbness there, silently stifling; it got really bad when Herbert and Montauk still had his book. When he still was a book.
But like his ability to touch, it’s been slowly getting better, too. Maybe it’s because of Jon, maybe not; this is all unknown territory.
One thing Gerry feels quite keenly now, as he floats inside: Elias is a monster, but damn, the man has taste.
It’s a stupid-drafty manor—huge, never properly lit, all its frippery fraying at the edges. It has literal skeletons in the walls. It has three cellars and an underground rail line to an abandoned coal mine. It has too many rooms, a foyer right out of Crimson Peak, an empty cement hole with crumbling cherubs in the back yard that might have once been someone’s idea of a pond, and a library with more cursed books than Gerry could shake a match at.
The part of Gerry that once used Sharpies to blacken his eyebrows loves this place with a truly unholy passion.
If only it didn’t belong to the reason the world was going to end.
“Still here?” says Elias, who manages to pull off the velvet dressing gown look. The man looks sleepy; he’s got tea in a china cup so fine that even the diffused light of this place makes it glow. “You’re free to wander, you know. You could go elsewhere and bother other people.”
Slowly, languorously, Gerry flips him off with both hands.
Elias sighs. “I will find your book, Mr. Keay. When I do, there are many things I could do with it that do not involve your… release. One might think you have better things to do than aggravate me in the interim.”
“One might think you have better things to do than suck a dick,” says Gerry with great cheer.
“So you talked to Jon.” Elias sips his tea.
Gerry doesn’t deny it. He knows he’s always bitchier after Elias has finished with Jon for the day, and he is long past the point where anything like that could embarrass him. “Get anything out of the daily torture session?”
“Yes,” says Elias. “Martin’s taken a secondary school.”
Ah.
Gerry sighs. “Well, that explains that.”
“Indeed.” Elias sips. “Unfortunately, it seems to have brought out Jon’s more… obstreperous nature.. He walked out before we were finished. Quite inconvenient.”
Even knowing how awful he is, some days, Elias still takes Gerry’s breath away. “Wow,” Gerry says. “Wow.”
“Yes, yes. I’m quite the monster. If you see him, do tell him we need to continue, won’t you? Unless he wants more schools to be taken, of course.” And Elias continues down the hall toward whatever psychopath thing he has next on his agenda.
Gerry had been going to give Jon some space. Jon wasn’t fun to be around when he was in his head quite this deeply, but a school…
Children…
Gerry sighs. “Damn,” he mutters to himself, going through the trouble of walking up the stairs instead of floating.
He doesn’t want the Extinction to win.
He doesn't care that much about what any of the Fears are doing these days, particularly. But the Extinction just feels so… personal.
Offensive, Gerry realizes, and puzzles over that thought. He finds the Extinction offensive, and isn’t sure why.
He doesn’t bother to knock on Jon’s door.
#
Jon’s on the canopy bed, fully clothed, face down.
“Nice,” says Gerry, floating over. “I’d paint this, if I could still hold a brush. Call it, Perfectly Useless Despair, and hang it on the front wall.”
Jon is silent.
Gerry goes for broke. “Elias told me it was a school.”
“Secondary school,” says Jon into his pillow. “Children. Small children, turned to pieces of warped plastic and concrete. Small children, their shadows ripped away from them with screams and transformed into Inheritors that only vanished in the sunlight because we got damned lucky. Children. Martin… Martin’s…” Jon stops.
Gerry climbs onto the bed and lies on his back next to Jon, staring at the faded canopy. “Well,” he says. “That sucks.”
Jon pushes himself up on his elbows just so he can scowl at him.
Gerry looks at him, expression mild.
Jon’s scowls are cute. Gerry wants to muss his hair. He suspects he might be able to, soon. He’s getting a lot better at touching things these days.
“So?” says Gerry. “What’s to be done about it?”
“Nothing,” Jon snaps. “That’s the… that’s the whole thing. There’s nothing to be done.”
“Not according to Elias,” says Gerry.
“Elias is wrong,” says Jon, just because.
“Then why are you still here?” says Gerry. “Letting him use you like this.”
He wonders if Jon has any idea how good his sad puppy look is. Probably not.
“Because he might not be wrong,” says Jon, softer. “What if I can stop him, somehow? What if I…” Jon flops back down, face into the pillow.
“I mean, you can’t,” says Gerry. “That���s not what you’re trying to do, remember? Not stop him. Expose him. But you still think you can save him instead, don’t you? Pull him back from the fire, and all that?”
“He doesn’t know what he’s doing,” says Jon into the pillow. “He’s not… evil. He’s lost.”
“I think you’re half right,” says Gerry. “He’s lost. He’s lost his hope, lost his way, lost everything. Thinks this is what has to happen, somehow. But he does know what he’s doing.”
Jon makes a small, heartbroken sound.
Gerry likes Jon’s sounds—he’s such a vocal person—but not the bad ones. Not this.
So he goes for truth as the only healing balm he knows.
“I can’t even see him like you do, and I know he knows what he’s doing. You won’t be able to help him if you don’t acknowledge that much.” Gerry’s tone isn’t gentle. He doesn’t really do gentle; it seems like false comfort, unfamiliar and cheap.
Jon shakes a little. Possibly crying.
Gerry purses his lips. “Hey.”
Nothing.
“Hey. Let me ask you this. If you could talk to Martin now—but not as he is now, before Peter got hold of him, and it all went wrong—what do you think he’d want you to do?”
“You sound like Elias,” says Jon, and the tightness in his voice says Gerry was right about the crying.
“Stab a man in the heart, why don’t you,” says Gerry. “Really, though. Would he ask you to just let him wander around doing this? Or would he ask you to stop him?”
“He’d ask me to save him,” says Jon, and they both know it’s a lie.
“Uh, huh,” says Gerry. “So you think he wants you to save him, while it’s costing lives. Not stop him. To let more people die while you try to figure out a way to rescue someone completely consumed by a Fear.”
No one can undo that. They both know it.
“I,” says Jon.
“First time he’s done children, right?” says Gerry. “Won’t be the last. He’s been building up to it.”
“I know,” whispers Jon.
Gerry sighs.
Gerry knows Elias is waiting upstairs in hopes that Jon will resume their session—this intense diving into the Eye via both their powers, extending Jon’s abilities, utilizing Elias’ experience.
It’s brutal. It’s violational. It’s increasing Jon’s strength tenfold by the day, and… that’s what seems to be needed.
The more keenly Jon can see Martin, the better chance he has of seeing past his protections, making him vulnerable, somehow. Because apparently, Martin can’t just be shot, or blown up, or whatever, so it’s going to require something extra.
No one from the other powers will go near him anymore. Not since Martin turned Peter Lukas into a pressed-ash statue of himself. Not since Martin reduced Jared Hopworth to a pool of grease like dirty fossil fuel. Not since Jude Perry’s fire turned toxic, and she burned, screaming, leaving weird, sulfurous smears all over the road.
The Extinction isn’t vulnerable in any of the usual ways.
But Martin Blackwood might be. Which would require seeing him, stripping him free like peeling off his skin. Gerry’s not fully clear on how it works because he was never an avatar of anything. Just knew how to work the system, like his mum.
It’s all a mess.
“So,” says Gerry. “I have a growing suspicion.”
“Good for you,” mutters Jon.
“I think you’re already strong enough to do it.”
Jon goes so, so still.
Bingo, Gerry thinks, and is inordinately pleased that he knows something Elias (possibly) does not. “I’ve got an idea.”
Jon grunts.
“Let’s go for a walkabout.”
Jon turns his head slowly to stare at him.
Oh, hi, Gerry thinks, because their faces are inches apart, and it’s nice.
“A walkabout,” grumps Jon.
“Yeah,” says Gerry. “I’ll go with you. You don’t have to do anything. We’ll just… walk and see. Get out of the Haunted Mansion. Remember why you’re even bothering to try to stop the Extinction in the first place.”
Jon scowls.
“Afraid?” Gerry smirks at him.
“Don’t be absurd. Of course I am.”
“Good. You’ll go all superpowered then.”
Jon rolls his eyes.
Gerry thinks he can almost feel Jon’s irritated huff. Or maybe not, but it’s nice to imagine. “You really just want to stay here playing Vulcan mind-meld with Elias all day?”
“Ugh, no,” says Jon.
“Sooo?” says Gerry.
“You can do that?” says Jon, brow knitting thunderously. “Walkabout?”
“Yeah, I can.”
“How? Are you ever going to tell me how you’re getting stronger?” says Jon. “You don’t even seem to be… suffering anymore.”
He isn’t. “Sure, someday, I’ll tell you,” says Gerry. When Elias can’t see. When Elias can’t get involved, ruin things, bury them both in a bog.
Jon balances on the precipice of decision, and Gerry dearly wants to tip him over.
“You can eat ice cream while I moan lasciviously,” he says.
Jon laughs. “All right, all right,” he says, struggling off the over-soft mattress.
Gerry grins and hopes Elias is keeping score.
#
“I just don’t know why Martin came to Wales,” mutters Jon, his greatcoat fluttering in the wind, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Why we all had to get dragged here.”
Here is a lovely town called Caerphilly. It’s picturesque. There’s a cheese named after it. Merlin filmed here. It even has a castle.
It’s currently quarantined, traffic nearly gone, silent in the eerie way cities can be when humans have to stay inside.
“What, Elias’ Playboy Mansion doesn’t make it all worth the journey?” says Gerry.
Jon snorts. “He stole it.”
“Color me surprised. Did he kill anyone?”
Jon sighs. “Not exactly.”
Gerry waits. Jon doesn’t fill him in.
“Evil overlord, just less evil than the other evil overlord,” says Gerry, striding along beside him and absolutely unconcerned if anyone thinks he’s a ghost.
Jon doesn’t care, either. It’s all gone beyond that.
A woman hurries by, almost running. She’s carrying an umbrella, which she holds up to hide her face.
“They still think if he can’t see you, he can’t get you,” Jon murmurs, not turning his head to see her.
He. Martin.
“Makes sense,” says Gerry. “He was Eye, first. They all feel watched.”
“It’s not going to protect anyone,” says Jon. “They’re still going to work. They’re still going to school. He’s aiming for gatherings. Someone needs to tell them.”
The news hasn’t told anything much. Terrorist attacks is all that filters through, because nobody knows what it is, and the ECDC doesn’t know what it is, and whatever Section 31 officers are involved here have either succumbed to the trouble or have found nothing of use.
They won’t, either. There’s nothing of use to find.
“Good news,” says Gerry. “Nobody will tell them, and it’ll all get swept under the rug, and the conclusion will be utterly unsatisfying.”
Jon eyes him. “Thanks for that.”
“Not my first merry-go-round,” says Gerry.
“It’s the Senghenydd Disaster,” says Jon suddenly, knowing it. “It wasn’t the worst colliery tragedy, nor even the most damaging, but… for some reason, that’s the one. That’s the reason he came here.”
“A coal thing? Huh. Guess that works. Pollution, or whatever.”
“This isn’t Captain Planet,” Jon mutters.
Gerry beams at him like he won something. “A pop culture reference? Really?”
“I don’t live under a rock.”
“Debatable,” says Gerry, pleased that he can pull Jon out from under said rock.
“He came here because it’s the only vacation he remembers taking when his father was around, and he learned what happened, and that hundreds died because the recommended safety updates were ignored. Greed mattered more than lives. Martin learned about the explosions, and felt awful,” says Jon. “He got angry. Angry at humans for it. It seeded… something in him.”
“That’s sad,” says Gerry, and means it. “How does it all feel to you?”
“Doomed.” Jon sighs and hunches his shoulders. “I think he could be moving much faster than he is, though.”
“But he hasn’t. Maybe he’s waiting for you.”
Gerry hadn’t meant that to punch Jon in the chest, but it seems to have. Jon stops walking and closes his eyes.
“Hey. You’re supposed to eat ice cream while I moan at you, remember?” says Gerry.
Jon smiles weakly. “Yeah. Even though it’s cold.”
“Shop up there’s open.”
Jon doesn't order ice cream. He does get a tea.
The person behind the counter won’t look at them. Is wearing a hat with a visor that covers the top half of their face.
Jon sighs.
“What are they calling him now?” says Gerry.
“The Smoking Man,” says Jon. “That’s what the children who—“ He stops.
“They called him that? To his face?”
“They never even saw him. He walked into the school, and just… just walked through the halls, doing nothing, doing… everything. He didn’t even stop. He just walked through one door and out the other, and when he left, nothing in there was alive.”
“Definitely escalating, then.”
Jon stares at his tea.
“How many people live here?” says Gerry.
“Currently, down from 43,407 to 34,248. Most have left, but… quite a few have died.”
Gerry whistles, low. “And the rest can’t leave.”
“Definitely not. The ECDC won’t let them.”
“You’ve been strong enough to end this for a while now, haven’t you?” says Gerry.
Jon looks… so sad.
Gerry gets it. Sort of. He suspects Jon’s love is different from his in manifestation and form, but he sort of gets it. “Why, then, are you letting Elias do this to you every day?”
“As long as I cooperate, he won’t… he won’t just… try to use someone else,” says Jon.
“Can’t, can he? Long as you’re the—“ Gerry stage whispers—“Archivist.”
“He could do loads of things with cannon fodder. He could shoot me and pick someone else, too. But…“ Jon stops.
“But?”
“Something I figured out, is all. During our sessions.” Jon finally sips his tea, and makes a face. “Ugh.”
“Don’t leave me hanging.”
“I don’t know if he can hear us now, or see us, or anything,” says Jon. “I can’t say.”
“You think you know something he doesn’t know you know? He’s literally splashing around in your head like a kiddy pool half the day.”
Jon says nothing.
“You know, you could just… remove the problem,” says Gerry.
Jon understands what he’s saying. “If I kill him, I kill everyone who works at the Institute.”
Gerry sighs. “You can’t save everybody, can you?”
“You think I don’t know that?” Jon looks up, eyes burning, power thrumming through his gaze, and it’s so much.
Wow, Gerry thinks, and almost has to look away.
“You think I don’t know I can’t save everybody? That I keep having to… watch them die in front of me, or find out they died after a coma, or—“
“People die. It’s awful, but it happens.” Gerry puts his hand on Jon’s, and it works.
Jon freezes. Stares down.
His hand shows beneath Gerry’s, like an optical illusion.
“I know,” says Gerry. “All right? I know this isn’t easy. Neither of us have ever had easy choices to make. I get it.” It’s not gentle, but it is real, and it undoes some knot in Jon.
Jon slumps forward over his tea, not moving his hand. He covers his face with his other one. “I can’t save Martin. I know that.”
“So you’re just putting off the hard thing.”
“I… don’t want him to be him when I have to do whatever it is I have to do.”
“But if he’s gone that far, how many people will he have killed?”
Jon says nothing.
“What are you going to do, anyway?” Gerry says. “I get the exposing him, or whatever. But what then?”
“There’s a sniper.”
Gerry blinks. “What, really?”
“At least one. I haven’t looked that closely.”
“That would be a thing,” says Gerry, shaking his head.
Jon looks at their hands. “How did you do this?”
“Doesn’t matter right now,” says Gerry. “Wasn’t actually sure it would work.”
“Feels like a puff of air, almost.”
“Better than nothing. Hey—you’ll be able to share that cigarette soon.”
“After you made me promise to quit? You hypocrite,” says Jon, smiling weakly.
“Can dead people even be hypocrites?”
Jon laughs softly. It’s got a note of wonder in it, and Gerry privately determines to make him laugh like that again. “I don’t think even Thomas Aquinas thought of that one.”
“Bet you he did,” says Gerry. “And it’s in a weird manuscript that somehow got written by him three years before he was born, and Leitner got hold of it in 1973.”
“And it belongs to the Vast, and makes you dance on the head of a pin,” Jon says.
They both laugh.
Jon’s smile fades, and he holds Gerry’s gaze with one that no longer burns, but is just a man’s. “Elias wants me marked by the Extinction,” he says.
“What?”
“That’s why he’s so determined it’s got to be me. That… desire is enough for him to keep me alive, and not go after anyone else. And it’s important to me he doesn’t go after anyone else.”
“Marked by the—why?” says Gerry.
Jon looks down again. “I don’t think he wanted me to know, but… a little late for that.”
“I usually know more than you do in terms of the esoteric stuff,” says Gerry, “but you’ve lost me on this one.”
“He wants me marked by all of them. All the Fears. Then he thinks if I… do the Eye’s ritual, for the Watcher’s Crown—”
”But why would he… that wouldn’t just bring the Eye. If you were actually marked by everybody. That’d…” Gerry inhales. “Fuck me, that would work.”
Jon looks at him. “You got it already?”
He snorts. “The way I was raised? Yeah, of course. And yeah, it really would work. Heh—my mum would be eating herself if she found this out because she hadn’t thought of it first.” Gerry makes a face. “Though if she had….”
“She’d have tried it with you,” says Jon, quietly.
“Maybe,” he says. “After she figured out the whole von Closen legacy thing wasn’t going to happen.”
“You’re not exactly old,” says Jon. “She gave up on it awfully quickly.”
“Yeah, well.” Gerry shrugs. “She took it personally when I came out at fourteen. What can you do?”
“My grandmother never asked, nor addressed the topic in any way,” says Jon, looking at the table. “I have absolutely no idea how she’d have responded to something like asexuality. Physical intimacy did not exist in my house.”
Gerry shakes his head. “Meanwhile, my mum used to bring in random men for rituals she made up, and whatever she did to them, they always left tasting blood.”
“That’s… specific,” says Jon.
“Yeah, breakfast conversations were real fucked up,” says Gerry cheerfully.
“Makes me wonder how we aren’t all completely insane,” says Jon.
“We’re miracles,” says Gerry, so seriously that Jon laughs again.
“Dancing on the head of a pin.”
“Wings?”
“Of course we have wings, if we’re taking the place of angels,” says Jon, and it’s a smile like the hint of sunrise.
Then Jon goes very still. All the color drains from his face.
Gerry doesn’t even have to ask, but he does. “What?”
“He’s here.”
That was fast, thinks Gerry.
“Did you know this would happen?” whispers Jon.
“No.” It’s mostly true.
Jon stands, leaving his tea half-drunk, and heads out the door.
#
Gerry really wishes he’d been there to see Martin take out Peter Lukas. Though from what Jon told him, maybe it wouldn’t have been so good to see.
It had all been building for months to that one moment beneath the Institute, in the heart of the Panopticon that Gertrude hypothesized but never really found.
Months of Martin forced to study the Extinction, to obsess over it, to consider it from every angle.
Months of avoiding Jon while trying to save him, of bleeding himself out to keep Jon from drowning.
And there, standing over Jonah Magnus’ body while Elias and Peter had a smug-off, Martin was quietly breaking.
It must have been happening for some time, but who knew? It wasn’t like he’d talked to anyone.
And when Jon had arrived, trying to help, desperate to save Martin, Peter had just… reacted, shoving Jon into the Lonely without so much as a by-your-leave.
Because of a bet. Because, somehow, of Elias.
Jon had been trapped, separated as if by glass, and won’t talk about how it felt—but oh, he could still see what was happening.
Saw Martin’s face twist, something behind his eyes breaking.
Saw Elias’s expression change when he realized there’d been a miscalculation.
Saw Peter’s smirk as he turned back to Martin and told him to get stabbing.
Instead, Martin turned Peter into volcanic ash.
It wasn’t fast.
It wasn’t quiet.
Elias had already run, or he’d probably have died, too.
Jon had watched, his shouts muffled as if in snow, his self insubstantial and forever alone. Crying words he could not hear as he watched Martin sob on his knees, watched him beat his fists bloody on the ground, and then watched him… calm.
Watched Martin lift his head and look right at him, trapped in thick and choking mist.
And Martin watched Jon aching, watched Jon weeping, watched Jon feeling more separated than he ever had in his life.
And Martin had nodded, and just… walked away.
Like this had decided him.
Like he was done.
It had taken Jon a week to walk out of the Lonely on his own.
By then, it was far too late.
#
Gerry understands being done.
He’s been done. It’s a bad place to be.
Jon understands, too, though, and that’s… not so good.
Jon’s like a bloodhound now, marching up the street, up the hill, unerring in direction while Gerry follows behind.
It’s surprising to Gerry that he can feel Martin coming. It’s cold.
Not temperature-cold. This is some other kind of thing, a sucking thing, draining color and air and life.
They crest the hill, and there he is.
It just looks like Martin. A large man, sweet-faced, in a simple cable-knit sweater and jeans. There is nothing in his body language or expression that indicates any kind of threat.
With one exception.
Martin’s eyes are gone, and smoke curls from his skull like the lazy smolder from a dying junkyard fire.
“Hi, Jon,” says Martin, and it’s his voice, but it isn’t, and it itches in Gerry’s head, even though he doesn’t have a head to itch.
Jon is already crying, though quietly. Tears stream down his face, dampening his beard.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” says Martin, and it’s so gentle, and so kind. He holds out his hand.
Not what Gerry expected, that’s for sure.
“I’m so sorry,” says Jon.
“It’s okay,” says Martin. “I’ve fixed it.”
“Fixed… Martin, you’re killing people.”
“I’m saving them. Do you know what happens if they stay here? Do you?” And no one with smoke pouring out of their heads should seem so kind, and so certain, and so good. “They get eaten, or burned. Or chased, or manipulated. They get twisted, and isolated, and burrowed into, and stared at until they go mad. But you know that, Jon. It’s all happened to you already.”
His hand is still out, and it feels like the world has gone still.
Gerry says not one word. He has no idea if Martin could do something to him or not, but if they all get through this, he wants to be there after.
It surprises him, honestly. But it’s a good feeling, so Gerry settles into it and waits.
Jon seems to be trying to answer. He keeps swallowing, over and over, looking from Martin’s face to his hand. “I don’t understand.”
Martin smiles, and it is sweet like setting sun shining on honey. “I know. But I do.”
“Martin, they… were children.”
“Remember when you asked me to gouge out our eyes together and run away?” says Martin as if recalling a date.
Well, Jon hadn’t told Gerry about that. Mental note made.
“Yes,” whispers Jon.
“And I wouldn’t do it. Remember?”
“Yes,” whispers Jon.
“I’m sorry. You had the right idea.”
“I…”
Martin’s hand is still out.
Jon, seemingly unaware, has taken one step toward him.
“You put the choice on me, and I didn’t listen. Remember?”
Jon doesn’t answer this time. He’s unblinking, staring.
Martin waits. He’s as unmoving as the mountains.
“Why are you… telling me this?” says Jon. He takes another step.
“Because I made the hard choice this time. You don't have to, Jon. It's okay. Take my hand.”
Jon looks at it for a long moment, then back at Martin. “And what then?”
“And then we stop all of this. No rituals. No Entities. It’s all over. Take my hand.”
“I don’t… want to kill anyone,” says Jon.
“You don’t have to. I’m doing the hard thing so you don’t have to. I’m done, Jon. So are you. I’m done watching you be hurt. You’re done with all these people and everything as much as I am.”
Jon’s voice breaks. “I… I can’t.”
“Can’t what? Just be with me? I love you, you know.”
Jon’s shoulders slump. “I love you, too.”
“Just be with me. That’s all I want.”
“Until… it’s over?”
“Until it’s over. Just be with me. I don’t really want anything else.”
Jon’s walking, and reaching out.
And then Martin has him by the hand, and Martin is pulling him in, and they’ve come together with a slow perfection like the inevitable clash of stars, and Jon’s eyes close as they kiss, but Martin’s don’t.
And Martin’s dipping him just slightly, just enough to keep Jon off balance, and Jon’s arms are around his neck, and the kiss goes on, and on, and on.
Gerry forgot that Jon doesn’t need to have his eyes open anymore to do things.
Things are changing.
Jon fits in Martin’s arms, fits in a way Gerry has trouble parsing, a way he’s never seen fitting before. Martin’s arms go from steady to tight, his hands from holding to clutching, and desperation speeds their kiss into something like gasping, into starvation and sharpness and need.
And when Jon opens his eyes, he is in grief and at peace and on the precipice of great sorrow, and it pierces even though Gerry isn’t the focus at all.
“Until it's over?” whispers Jon.
“Until it's over,” whispers Martin, and his voice doesn’t itch, and tears are sliding down his cheeks and onto Jon’s collar. Smoke still rises from his empty eyes, but it’s turned white like a clean, sweet fire of freshly hewn wood, and he is trembling. “I’m sorry, Jon. I’m so sorry.”
“I love you,” Jon whispers back.
The shot rings out.
Gerry thinks, Oh. We were being followed by a sniper, and then Jon is sobbing, and all the sound in the world comes back, including all the sirens they hadn’t known were there.
#
They couldn’t make Jon leave Martin’s body until it had completely turned to dust.
Dust is the wrong word, but it… well, it didn’t decay. There was no odor, and no rot; it just… wasn’t alive anymore, in a way that defied paltry things like bacteria and the release of gasses.
What’s left looks like cotton so old it’s gone brittle.
Organic matter is what Gerry hears some of them mutter when Jon is finally coaxed away.
It’s all been so weird of late that nobody even cares that Gerry’s hovering around like a ghost.
Jon has not spoken. Daisy speaks—Daisy, who made the shot, who’s been following Jon since they came up here, waiting for the one moment her shot would actually count.
Jon ignores her. And the emergency workers. And everyone. He sits in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a thin, silvery blanket, staring at nothing.
Gerry is familiar with grief, has always known sorrow. He doesn't know how to do comfort like an ordinary person, but he can be here, so… he will.
Gerry sits beside him. “Hey.”
Nothing.
“I’d like to share that cigarette now,” says Gerry.
Jon manages to look at him. “It’s over.”
“It—” says Gerry, then realizes Jon isn’t looking at him. Jon’s looking through him.
He turns to find Elias.
Elias, who looks like Christmas came early. “Jon. You’ve done so well.”
“It’s over,” says Jon. “I know what you planned. It won’t happen.”
“Of course, Jon, whatever you say,” Elias lies through his teeth, and smiles. “I take it you’re going back to London right away?”
Jon doesn’t answer. He keeps staring.
Elias’ smile falters.
Gerry can’t see a change in Jon’s look, but he can feel it.
A heat, this time, the opposite of what Martin was doing, a tidal thing, a filling thing, renewing color and air and life.
And whatever it is, it is making Elias shake in his fancy shoes.
Elias looks like he’s seen… well, a ghost. He can’t seem to look away from Jon.
“Do you believe me now?” says Jon.
Elias nods sharply. He sets his jaw. “I’ll see you back at the Institute,” he promises, dire, and walks away.
“Go to hell,” Jon mutters, and huddles under his thin silver blanket.
“You have got to tell me what happened there,” says Gerry.
“I started to unravel him.”
“Right. What’s that?”
“Untie him from his god. I can unhook him.”
“You… what?” Gerry stares. “You can make someone unbecome?”
“No. No, he can’t be… freed. Nobody can. But I could end him.”
Gerry whistles, low. “Would you really do it? What about all the other people connected to the Institute?”
“I can’t save everyone,” Jon says darkly.
This is a hard day to be Jon, Gerry thinks, and touches his hand.
Jon looks up as though swimming up from a deep well. Tears still fill his eyes, unshed.
“Let’s get out of here,” says Gerry. “Not back to the Playboy Mansion, either. If you’re willing to do a little impersonation, I do have a good bit squared away in the bank. Bet it’s still there.”
“Look, this is absurd. Can you even do that?” says Jon. “Where is your book? How can you run around like this, and… do this?” He puts his other hand over Gerry’s, and it works.
Gerry grins. It’s a naughty grin, the one his mum used to call up to trouble. “Still haven’t figured it out?”
“No, I haven’t figured it out. You just appeared, a few days after the Lonely. You’ve been with me ever since, and you haven’t told me how.”
“Some Archivist you are.”
“Gerry…”
“It’s you.”
Jon blinks at him in confusion that Gerry honestly finds adorable. “What?”
“Sims,” says Daisy, wandering over. “They need a debrief.”
“I won’t give one,” says Jon.
Daisy ignores Gerry with a will. “You have to.”
“No, I don’t, any more than you have to report all the bodies you buried in the woods. Make it go away, Daisy. I’m done.”
Daisy gives him a searing look, but she walks off.
Jon turns back. “Explain.”
“Like I said, it’s you. When you read my page. It didn’t matter that you burned it, because I’m… archived, I guess.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how else to explain it. I’m written in you. So, uh. Bit awkward, but you’re stuck with me.”
Jon stares. He wipes his face on his sleeve. Looks more than a little lost. “I… I think I’m… actually fine with that. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, though.”
“I’m not. Though I’m sorry about Martin,” says Gerry, trying.
Jon smiles a strange smile, small and sad and final. “I did save him, in the end. In a way.”
“He was himself when he died.”
“Yes.”
“The thing you didn't want to have happen.”
“This was about him, not me. It… was all I could give him.”
Gerry studies him. “I don’t know how to be… comforting. But I can be with you while you figure it out. And I still owe you some inappropriate ice cream. So… let’s go, Jon.”
Jon hesitates.
“It’s a choice, you know? Grief has to be walked through. You can’t outrun it, or hide.”
Jon exhales slowly. “I… I think I understand. What will we do?”
And Gerry says the first thing that comes to mind. “Quit.”
Jon laughs weakly. “I can’t. I can’t quit being Archivist. Quit the Eye. Any of it.”
“Maybe not, but we can do it our own way, can’t we?”
“I…”
“Look,” says Gerry. “I followed Gertrude around, and she did whatever the hell she wanted for fifty years. I think the world can handle you going just a little bit rogue.”
Jon looks him in the eye.
It’s almost too much.
Gerry loves it. “Intense,” he says.
Jon looks at their hands. “Like touching a whisper,” he says.
“Is that a yes, or…” says Gerry.
“Yes. Let’s go. Back to London, and then…”
“Quit.”
“Quit.” Jon smiles a little. “Somehow, some way. We quit.”
“They’ll never know what hit them,” says Gerry, hopping down from the ambulance.
He offers his hand. Maybe it’s too soon; maybe it’s wrong of him, to do this just after Martin.
But Gerry doesn’t think so. He thinks it’s maybe the most important thing he ever could do.
Especially when Jon takes it, grips, and it actually works.
“I won’t be okay for a while,” Jon says, softly.
Gerry nods. “I think you’re allowed.”
Jon smiles. It’s barely there, like Gerry’s hand, but it is there.
They’re gone before Daisy or anyone even notices, only the thin silver blanket left behind.
#tma fic#the magnus archives fic#magpod fic#jon/gerry#extinction martin#the extinction#tma fanfic#magpod#mag pod fic#gerry keay#gerard keay#jonathan sims#martin blackwood
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The Magnus Archives Fic Rec List
Press the read more for recommended fanfiction of The Magnus Archives! Never heard The Magnus Archives and are interested?
Current number of fics: 85
last updated March 18th, 2024
These are all works that I have personally read at least a couple thousand words of and enjoyed myself, so this list will reflect my own reading habits
If you are the author of a fic, you can request your work be removed from the list. Everyone should be comfortable
Table of Contents - 1. England Jonmartin-centric, 2. Scottish Safehouse Period, 3. Gen or Background Pairings, 4. Time Travel, 5. Highly Alternate, 6. Gerrymichael, 7. Other, 8. Updates (note: some categories tend to overlap. Only one will be prioritized)
England Jonmartin-Centric
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Full, Riotous Bloom by BigTed
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Statement of Martin Blackwood, regarding…” Jon looks at him. Looks at him. The look of a boss whose employee was late three times last week, the look of a man who was just busy doing something really important and now he’s here, doing this instead. “...why he stole a grieving family’s oven gloves.”
-
Martin has a run in with a deadly Leitner, leaving him choking on his unrequited love.
M | Words: 66,962 | Chapters: 13/13
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fell in your opinion when i fell in love with you by Athina_Blaine
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“This is the Magnus Institute, not a creative writing course at university. If that doesn’t agree with him, he can leave.” There was a thud and the sound of rifling tapes. “He can take his bloody tea with him.”
Martin’s fingers tightened on the saucer. Oh.
-
Martin knows better than to talk about it. It's fine. He's fine.
Part 1 of it's only when i hit the ground it causes all the grief
M | Words: 18,987 | Chapters: 2/2
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Just a Little Bit Pet-tea by arthureameslove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin makes Jon tea for the first time about a week into his transfer. It’s horrible. Gag-reflex inducing. Somehow sporting all the wrong flavors.
For some reason, he does not have the heart to break this to Martin.
Little does Jon know that Martin actually makes wonderful tea. Just not for him.
G | Words: 13,335 | Chapters: 3/3
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Misshapes, Mistakes, Monsters by ZaliaChimera
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The Archives are his and stepping away from them, even for a night… it’s strange. Like he’s pretending to be someone else.
Like he’s pretending to be human.
Jon and Martin attend Jon's Oxford University Reunion.
T | Words: 7,969 | Chapters: 1/1
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Say You Love Me (Learn to Lie) by iamcringebutiamfree
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
It shouldn’t have been surprising to learn that Martin hated him. He had been, he knew, a truly terrible boss - he’d treated Martin horribly, caused him to lose his home, nearly gotten him killed. Really, it had been ridiculous to ever think that Martin wouldn’t hate him.
Still, Jon had been trying, in his own way, to make it up to him. There wasn’t exactly a card at the drugstore that said, “I’m sorry I berated you for six months and caused you to nearly be eaten by a swarm of worms of potentially supernatural origin,” but he’d been trying. He brought Martin breakfast every morning, made sure the breakroom cabinets were stocked with his favorite blends of tea, and had tried to work some genuine praise into his feedback of Martin’s work. None of it was the direct apology that his conscience told him he really ought to give, but Martin had appreciated it. Or seemed to, anyway.
Jon wasn’t certain what motivated the decision he made next - whether it was guilt or spite or something else. He could, he knew, be quite petty when the situation called for it. Either way, he made up his mind then and there to prove Martin wrong. He was going to be the best fake boyfriend he could be.
A Fake Dating AU!
T | Words: 37,889 | Chapters: 10/10
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a consideration of tropes by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Do you know much about cataloguing?” Jon asks, a little out of breath from the stairs.
Martin, mid-trolley, rolls his eyes. The gesture he makes at the shelves around him is only emphasised by the book he’s holding.
“What exactly do you think I do here, other than sit around and wait for angry patrons to yell at me?”
“Think of what you’re going to yell back?” Jon says, and Martin’s mouth twitches into a smile.
-
Asking the very important question: what if Jon and Martin had a gentle archives/library romance, and kept running into tropes? What if there was mutual pining involved? Only one bed? Fake dating? Hurt/comfort? Or perhaps, a soft and happy ending?
T | Words: 40,966 | Chapters: 8/8
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It Serenely Disdains to Destroy Us by trill_gutterbug
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin gnaws his lower lip. “Do you think he’ll - I mean, do you think it’ll be…”
Melanie's smile becomes a little less of a grimace. She claps his shoulder. “Martin. It’ll be fine. It’s only temporary. He’s not moving in.”
Martin chuckles. “Yes. Of course.”
-
Jon's flat is being fumigated. He is not impressed. Martin offers his spare bedroom.
T | Words: 13,048 | Chapters: 1/1
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terror management theory by prismatical
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Melanie King & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist (briefly)
“It’s a preexisting condition,” Jon explains, sipping more bitter tea. “I sort of got—hm. You know Spiderman?”
Tim raises an eyebrow.
“Heard of him, yeah.”
Jon nods, studying his tea.
“It’s sort of like that,” he says. “A spider killed and ate me when I was a child, and now I can’t stay dead.”
-
Resurrection isn't all it's cracked up to be.
T | Words: 36,587 | Chapters: 1/1
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Clutching Daffodils by Gemi
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
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.
NR | Words: 7,624 | Chapters: 1/1
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a little love, a little sympathy by Did
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
And then Jon is snarling into his face, demanding what are you hiding with a strange, bright-eyed intensity Martin has never seen from him before, and Martin thinks god, maybe he should just come clean about his CV, Jon thinking he's a fraud can't be any worse than Jon thinking he's a murderer-
Martin opens his mouth to speak. To his absolute horror, what actually comes out is: "I used to pretend to cry because I liked how nice you were to me when you thought I was upset!"
G | Words: 3,308 | Chapters: 1/1
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all resistance wearing thin by DivineProjectZero
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin Blackwood would do anything for Jonathan Sims. The Web made him that way, after all.
T | Words: 4,799 | Chapters: 1/1
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Sam nie pojmuję, jak w twe zajdę progi by Mad_Maudlin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin's been acting odd since Jon came back. Well, odder than usual.
T | Words: 3,118 | Chapters: 1/1
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Mundanity by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Inspired by @ themlet's post on Tumblr: Jon has to deal with normal human interactions. Martin helps (sort of). Featuring high school reunions, knitted sweaters, and conversations on the bus ride home.
T | Words: 3,097 | Chapters: 1/1
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Musical Mechanism by Darblesify
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin has always used music to cope. One day he's playing music music out loud in the archive and Tim and Sasha realize the main singer's voice sounds familiar.
AKA Martin's favorite band might happen to be the one Jon was secretly a part of in college.
T | Words: 21,411 | Chapters: 8/8
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Misfiled and Misinformed by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Jon and Martin are married. Tim and Sasha know this. What they don't know is that it's to each other.
T | Words: 2,507 | Chapters: 1/1
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look no further by inkyindigo
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin just wants to keep Jon safe. Sometimes the easiest way to do that is to bodily remove him from harm's way.
or, a collection of times Martin picks Jon up.
T | Words: 15,145 | Chapters: 8/8
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Touch Me, Even if it Hurts by AuralQueer
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
People don't really touch Jonathan Sims unless they want to hurt him. That's mostly fine. Jon has never been a tactile person, and he doesn't need anyone but himself.
Except the world is falling down around him, and loneliness aches, and sometimes he'll take anything - even cruelty - just to feel human again.
*A story set between s1 and s4, looking at Jon's relationship with touch, friendship, and his own humanity.
T | Words: 6,540 | Chapters: 1/1
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I'll bring the motion by callmearcturus
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.
Martin helps.
(based on this amazing art by linecrosser)
T | Words: 3,127 | Chapters: 1/1
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thanks for the company by lukeskqwalker
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin had been baffled by how easily he spilled his guts out to this odd stranger. Now, Martin is more baffled by the baggy My Chemical Romance t-shirt he's wearing, paired with tasteful plaid pajama bottoms.
Or, Martin gets a visitor in his dreams. Reliving the same 14 days of loneliness every night isn't as bad when you have company.
T | Words: 4,314 | Chapters: 1/1
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stranger, stranger by blueskiddoo
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Sure,” Georgie says, still laughing at him. At least someone is having fun. “Don’t you have assistants for that kind of thing?”
“Yes, but…” He huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t going to ask one of them to download an app called...Lover? Lov-rrr? I don’t know how you say it.” He flaps his hands dismissively. “There are--unions and such. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
*
jon makes a fake account on a dating app to investigate a statement. tim sets martin up with fake account on a dating app to boost his self-confidence. it goes exactly how you might expect.
G | Words: 36,771 | Chapters: 11/11
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i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Have you got anywhere to stay?” Jon asks him, briskly. “Friends, acquaintances, maybe, who you could stay with…?”
Martin flushes, deeply. “I, I mean— n-no, not really,” he stammers, and then goes even redder. “Or, just, y’know not that I’d want to, to. Put in the middle of this. Put in danger of, of worms.”
“Ah,” Jon says, “No, of course, that makes sense.” Why drag anyone else into this mess? Seven people died during Prentiss’s initial hospitalization; the collateral damage of roping someone from outside the Institute into her orbit doesn’t bare thinking about. “In that case…” Jon feels like there’s some alternative solution, one he’s just not thinking of at the moment, but it evades him, and Martin needs somewhere safe to stay. “My couch is quite comfortable. You’re welcome to come and stay with me until you figure something else out.”
Martin is held hostage by Jane Prentiss for two weeks, and can't go back to his flat. Jon offers him a place to stay until Prentiss and her worms can be dealt with, and they can be sure he's safe.
T | Words: 65,951 | Chapters: 19/19
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true kinda love by Did
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
So. Martin isn't expecting anything to happen. But then, one day, something...does happen. It happens when Martin is passing Jon in the hall, and stops to ask how he’s doing, because Jon always looks a little bit like hell these days, and it makes Martin feel like he has to do something, and useless small talk is pretty much all he can do, so that’s what he does. And instead of grunting or shrugging or mumbling something dismissive, Jon replies, with perfect, involuntary clarity, "Every part of me aches, and I would just about kill to have someone rub my shoulders right now."
There's a positively deafening silence as they both come to grips with this unprecedented turn of events. Then they both start talking at once.
"Ah," says Jon.
"Wow," says Martin, at the same time.
G | Words: 5,053 | Chapters: 1/1
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hey stranger by ennuijpg
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker
It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?
(Based on this post about alt jon on tumblr because it's all I've been thinking about of late.)
T | Words: 2,701 | Chapters: 1/1
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Sun-kissed by Rauchendes_GNU
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Martin doesn’t have any freckles. Jon has watched him and the others for a while now, and he knows that everyone has freckles. Tim is absolutely covered in them, and he seems to get more and more every day as Sasha seems very determined to kiss every part of Tim that is not yet covered in tiny dark spots.
Everyone has been loved by someone at some point. Everyone has been kissed, no matter if a platonic peck on the cheek or a heated kiss on the mouth. Everyone but Martin, it seems.
Or: Jon realises Martin has never been kissed. He rectifies that right away.
T | Words: 3,407 | Chapters: 1/1
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skin deep by isthepartyover
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims
“Hello, Martin Blackwood speaking.”
“Oh thank god-” a woman’s voice answered, rushed and panicked, and Martin immediately closes the folder he was leafing through absent-mindedly and snaps his head towards the door. “Sorry, oh god, I’m Georgie, I’m Jon’s friend, I don’t know what to do-”
(au where georgie calls martin post burn)
M | Words: 3,125 | Chapters: 1/1
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Take Care of You (And I'll Take Care of Me) by Mad_Maudlin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
When Martin Blackwood met the new research assistant, his heart skipped a beat. Too bad Jonathan Sims seems to hate him.
(A soulmates AU)
M | Words: 20,386 | Chapters: 6/6
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Somebody That I Used to Know by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner (background), Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
(Minor) SPOILERS FOR MAG 161!!!
Jon gets replaced by the Not!Them. Life goes on.
T | Words: 6,358 | Chapters: 1/1
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a six-step process by bluejayblueskies
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. Not like Nikola's. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.
Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have goals, he thinks. He splits this one into steps.
Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying.
Part 2 of touch prompts
T | Words: 2,138 | Chapters: 1/1
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who's there? by bubonickitten
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Jon has a panic attack after Elias shows him exactly what happened behind the door after Mr. Spider took its victim.
Martin helps him calm down, and Jon tells him the story of his first Leitner.
Part 2 of thresholds
T | Words: 6,139 | Chapters: 1/1
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Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Jon wears a skirt to the Institute for the first time, and gets reactions he hadn't expected.
NR | Words: 1,846 | Chapters: 1/1
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northwest 6 to gale 8. rain. poor, occasionally good. by chewsdaychillin
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
A voicemail made up of a female robot and Jon’s professional work tone tells him to leave a message, but Martin hangs up before the beep. He’s not even sure he can speak, let alone put this into words.
‘Hi Jon, sorry to call at four fifty-two AM. My mum just died and I don’t know what to do or how to feel. Call me back when you can! Love you, bye!’
AUish where Jon is alive when Martin's mum passes away, helps him grieve and heal (and they maybe admit to being in love)
Part 1 of northwest 6 to gale 8
M | Words: 35,828 | Chapters: 9/9
Scottish Safehouse Period
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Resigned, Though Not to Fate by inkfingers_mcgee
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“You’re really suggesting this,” Martin says, voice pulled thin.
“Yes.” No hesitation.
“You would- actually do it?”
“I would.”
“With me.”
“Yes, Martin.”
“Why?” Because love is blind, says something cliché and cruel in the pit of his gut. Christ, he never was much of a poet, was he?
Or,
When Jon asks Martin to Quit the Archives with him, Martin says yes. Things don't go as planned. In the Scottish Highlands, they hurt, and they heal.
(Re-written as of 22-12-27; see chapter 9 for more info.)
T | Words: 145,748 | Chapters: 9/9
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nor any more youth or age than there is now by Ravenesta
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The local Primary school has a new teacher. He is, to say the very least, odd.
A series of statements regarding the interactions of the townsfolk with one Jonathan Sims, never formally given.
T | Words: 6,512 | Chapters: 1/1
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There's a 15th Fear, and it's Teenagers by captloverboy
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Melanie King & Jonathan Sims, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Basira Hussain, Basira Hussain & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Helen | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Helen | The Distortion & Basira Hussain, Helen | The Distortion & Martin Blackwood
What if Jonah didn't ruin everything? Didn't send the end of everything statement? What do Jon and Martin do now? Get a job, I guess. A teaching job, for Jon, though it was hardly his first pick. But sometimes your boyfriend looks *really* excited when he suggests it, and I mean, you know literally everything. It can't be that bad, right? Right?
T | Words: 26,140 | Chapters: 14/14
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the Teacher from the Magnus Archives by Athina_Blaine
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”
-
Maggie is determined to catch Mr. Sims via her channel, and then everyone would see how cool and smart she was, right?
T | Words: 5,993 | Chapters: 1/1
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Please Don't Tease Me Like You Did Before by bazemayonnaise
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin is grinning at his phone when Jon comes home. This is not an unusual occurrence, but Jon can sense that the particularly smug smile being levelled at him means that whatever is entertaining the man has something to do with Jon.
“Yes?” he asks once he has dumped the day at the door. “What have I done now?”
Part 1 of Jon and Martin teach at a Scottish Catholic School
G | Words: 5,380 | Chapters: 1/1
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beloved of jon by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Oh,” says Jon, numbly. “You don’t. Remember? Um. It’s complicated. What… what do you remember?”
Martin seems to shrink in on himself a little. It hurts to watch, especially after how Jon’s seen him so painstakingly grow back into his openness over the past few weeks.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t – I don’t.”
“But you remember me?” says Jon, and he tries to keep as much feeling out of that question as he can.
---
For no reason that Jon can tell, Martin forgets.
T | Words: 12,739 | Chapters: 1/1
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every good intention (is interpretation) by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
They’re standing entirely too close to each other in front of the hotel desk when the clerk asks them whether they’d like a double, twin, or two singles, and Martin absolutely bottles it.
‘Uh,’ he says, at exactly the same time as Jon says, ‘Oh.’
———
There’s a conversation that Martin and Jon need to have after the Lonely. Unfortunately, they are - historically - fairly terrible at putting stuff into words.
G | Words: 11,227 | Chapters: 1/1
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These words that make a home in my chest by arthureameslove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
The moment Martin leaves the Lonely is the moment he realizes that it has taken something from him. He is left with the realization that the Lonely fog had been the only thing keeping him whole, keeping him from feeling the aching hollows of his own sorrow.
Speaking makes it worse, so he doesn't. He almost expects Jon to leave, to grow tired of him, incomplete as he is. But Jon doesn't.
Or, Martin is mute after leaving the Lonely, and he and Jon learn how to be people again, together, in the comfort of the Scottish Highlands.
T | Words: 16,060 | Chapters: 7/7
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hello my old heart by firebirdsuite
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.
Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.
T | Words: 15,864 | Chapters: 1/1
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i’m almost me again, you’re almost you by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.
Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
---
In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.
G | Words: 12,928 | Chapters: 1/1
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Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.
or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.
T | Words: 6,027 | Chapters: 1/1
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Diary by luftballons99
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.
or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.
Part 1 of showing your hand
T | Words: 5,178 | Chapters: 1/1
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the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees
M | Words: 4,662 | Chapters: 1/1
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ready to call this love by yewgrove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!
Part 1 of it is what you have.
G | Words: 5,650 | Chapters: 1/1
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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? by pantsoflobster
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Jon,” Martin said. “I have made a grave mistake.”
Jon whipped his head up, nearly tossing the elastic from his messy bun. “What? What’s wrong? What--what did you do?”
“I... might have invited guests for dinner.”
Jon stared blankly. “What, here?”
“Seeing as this is where we live at the moment, yes.”
---
In which a week in the safehouse turns into a fake-married sitcom, because they deserve to worry about social ineptitude instead of the apocalypse for a minute
Part 1 of this is not the house that pain built
T | Words: 5,391 | Chapters: 1/1
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Bergamot, Buckskin, and Lace by Qpenguin98
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Jon's never been a touchy person.
T | Words: 3,061 | Chapters: 1/1
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be kind, i beg you by gauras
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Fine,” Jon says, and he tries to ignore the sulky tone of his voice, “fine. What do you suggest?”
Martin pauses, like he’d not expected Jon to give in so easily. Jon’s never been particularly agreeable, but he still feels vaguely offended by the blatant surprise. “W-we,” Martin stammers, clears his throat, continues on much more confidently, “we go in together.”
Or: it takes close quarters and a full 24 hours to finally get them on the same page.
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T | Words: 14,946 | Chapters: 1/1
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tides turning by gauras
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
There's more than one way to say I love you.
T | Words: 20,858 | Chapters: 1/1
Other Scottish Safehouse Period fics: see unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic in Other
Gen or Background Pairings
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a deeply annoying child by ajkal2
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, blink-and-you-miss-it Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, BUT NO SLASH WHILE ANYONE IS A CHILD
Jon is hiding under the desk.
----
There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.
G | Words: 9,631 | Chapters: 1/1
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Head in the Lion's Mouth by renwhit
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Danny Stoker & Tim Stoker, Danny Stoker & Jonathan Sims, Basira Hussain & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Danny Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Past Tim Stoker/Sasha James, Danny Stoker & Helen Richardson, Danny Stoker & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Danny Stoker & Melanie King, Basira Hussain & Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain & Danny Stoker
He fell into a deep bow, smiling the whole while. “I’m the ringmaster, of course.”
“Is that skin— Is it yours?” Old wood groaned as the Archivist shifted his weight. “Originally.”
“It is!” the ringmaster said as he swooped back upright. “Nikola decided I wore it well, so she let me keep it. Why do you ask?”
The Archivist gave him another once-over. “You just… you look familiar. Like someone I know.”
On relearning, reconnecting, and redefining.
Part 1 of Come What May
M | Words: 157,202 | Chapters: 17/17
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reach inside (to find your heart is beating) by ivelostmyspectacles
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
This is Tim, opening the door enough for his tired, careworn face to peer through the crack; Jon sees the genuine horror on his face as he takes in his boss, bloody on his doorstep, and he thinks– maybe– he thinks he might be safe here.
“Christ.”
Chapter two added January 17th!
T | Words: 5,774 | Chapters: 2/2
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Fractals Upon Fractals by cedarbranch
No Archive Warnings Apply, Michael & Helen Richardson
“There was never meant to be two of us,” said Helen.
Or: Michael and Helen play a game of chess, and work out what it means exist in duplicate.
G | Words: 1,652 | Chapters: 1/1
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Other gen fics: see Time is Hard by Serazimei in Time Travel
Time Travel
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Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, x2!, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking.
The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him.
"I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.
--------
Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.
T | Words: 53,319 | Chapters: 12/12
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Déjà Vu by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Sasha remembers being unmade.
Tim remembers being Unknown.
Jon and Martin remember being unwound.
All of them think they're the only one.
--------
The S1 crew wakes up in the past with memories up till the moment they died.
T | Words: 37,652 | Chapters: 4/4
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Reflection by LazuliQuetzal
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Emma
Jonathan Sims, researcher at the Magnus Institute, is seeing a ghost. Of himself.
Of course, it’s not really him, no matter what secrets it knows, or how many arguments it brings up. So if it tells him to do something?
Obviously, he’ll be doing the exact opposite.
(AKA: Jon is an idiot, past and future, but somewhere along the way it all cancels out.)
(Expect general spoilers for S4 and specifically, MAG 158.)
T | Words: 51,527 | Chapters: 10/10
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Time is Hard by Serazimei
No Archive Warnings Apply, Michael | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Elias Bouchard & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael Shelley & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael "Mike" Crew & Michael Shelley
The Eye isn't happy with how the end of the world turned out. Neither are Jonah and Jon. There is no other option but to rewind time and go down a different path. But time is hard for The Spiral and The Web likes to meddle.
This is how Jon finds himself back in his eight year old body with all his memories, some of his powers intact and a strange bracelet around his right wrist. Saving the world, Jon realizes soon enough, is much harder when no one takes you seriously.
Part 1 of Diverging Times
M | Words: 170,443 | Chapters: 60/60
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The Cube Rule of Food Identification by bluejayblueskies
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin stands abruptly. His chair spins away from him, wheels squeaking on the cheap lino floor. The tension between him and Jon has reached never-before-seen levels. Tim could probably cut it with a knife. Or a particularly sharp spoon.
Then, Jon lurches forward and half-clambers atop the desk and kisses Martin, and Tim drops his sandwich.
.
Or, season one Jon and Martin receive memories from the future mid-argument, and Tim and Sasha receive emotional whiplash.
T | Words: 1,630 | Chapters: 1/1
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a map of what matters most by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Is that a body,” Tim blurts before he can stop himself, rising to his feet. Martin looks, if possible, even more scared.
“He’s alive!” he hisses, almost defensively. “It’s not - it’s not Gertrude again, I didn’t kill him, he just – I don’t know what happened to him, I just found him in the stacks like this.”
“And you dragged him up here?” Tim says, and then registers several things at once – the build, the hair texture; the little round scars peppering a pair of thin hands and an awfully familiar face. “Wait, is that Jon?”
----
Jon stumbles back into an earlier Archive, looking for a way to fix the world. (Or, mom says it's my turn for the obligatory time travel au)
T | Words: 20,604 | Chapters: 6/6
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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) by OllieoftheBeholder
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
“So...you’re from the future. In the past. Why?”
“You want the short answer or the long one?”
“Short,” Martin says after a moment’s deliberation. “Until I decide if I trust you.”
The other nods, as if he expected that answer—which, well, if he really is Martin from the future, he probably did. “To stop the world from ending.”
They have one last chance to fix this - one last chance to prevent the Eyepocalypse, to save the world - to save their world. It all hinges on which is the greater force: greed...or love.
Part 1 of leaves 'verse
T | Words: 299,536 | Chapters: 60/60
Highly Alternate
Alternate universes will remain in the other categories, but this category is for alterations that are especially notable in their severity. This will also include any fics where Jon has an important alignment with a different fear entity, whether that be instead of the Eye or in tandem
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The Witch's Cat by Champagne
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“That’s the Witch’s cat,” Tim says, and grins at Martin. “Jonathan Sims, the town’s Witch, said that he’ll marry anyone that manages to get the key from the cat’s collar.”
G | Words: 12,584 | Chapters: 1/1
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What Belongs to the Sea by TwoDrunkenCelestials, WhyNotFly
No Archive Warnings Apply, Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“My grandmother taught me about selkies,” said the tattooed man. “Said it’s good luck for them to grace your ship. To treat ‘em right, and they’ll guide you safe.”
It had seemed like a reasonable thing to believe.
M | Words: 126,367 | Chapters: 36/36
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school's out for the summer by kiaronna
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Various Background Relationships, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
The thing is, Jonathan Sims is someone you’d call the police on if you saw him hanging around a school, those frazzled clothes and bags under his eyes, the frantic muttering and thousand-year stare.
Yet there he sits, headteacher of The Magnus Institute for Gifted Young Minds.
The name’s a bit misleading, it is. They’re in a bad part of town. The parents are either terrible or absent, and the kids—
“They’re monsters,” his new and handsome coworker grins, when Martin’s signature on his contract is barely dry. “Absolute monsters. Get too close and you’ll lose some fingers. Or maybe your mind.”
“They’re babies,” is all Martin can feebly manage, in reply, and Tim’s eyes narrow at the fondness in his voice.
“You’ll learn.”
T | Words: 26,088 | Chapters: 2/2
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See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan Sims & Simon Fairchild, Jonathan Sims & Michael "Mike" Crew, Jonathan Sims & Gerard Keay, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims/Oliver Banks
When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.
T | Words: 59,336 | Chapters: 7/7
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rituals by doomcountry
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
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.
T | Words: 8,492 | Chapters: 1/1
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ships passing in the night by Zykaben
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Tim meets and befriends the new professor on the staff, Jonathan Sim. Tim has also been casual friends with Martin Blackwood for the past year.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for Tim to realize that the two of them are married to each other.
T | Words: 5,027 | Chapters: 1/1
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all the flowers of all the tomorrows by ivelostmyspectacles
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker & Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims
Martin owns a flower shop.
He starts crushing on the guy from the Magnus Institute, but why does Jon keep needing so many flowers for workplace deaths, anyway??
T | Words: 13,745 | Chapters: 1/1
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The Good Ol' Days by SingingInTheRaiin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
When Jon moves in with his grandmother he becomes fast (if somewhat reluctant) friends with one of the neighborhood kids, a boy named Martin.
Years later, they find each other again at the Magnus Institute, and whatever mysteries they uncover there, they will solve them together.
T | Words: 107,489 | Chapters: 40/40
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How Particular, My Fondness of You by cedarbranch
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Jon risks a glance over to Georgie, expecting sympathy, or perhaps a grave expression of solidarity. Instead, he’s met with a fond smile. “Oh, Jon,” she says patiently, reaching over to rub his back. “You poor thing. You’re lovesick.”
Jon recoils. “I am not,” he says accusingly.
-
A college AU in which the whole gang works at the library, Jon is emotionally repressed, and the anonymous Facebook page knows all.
Part 2 of Magnolia Verse
T | Words: 29,263 | Chapters: 1/1
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because light reverses, because the dead return by 1248, Tiili97
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
"Very well then, officer, take me away. And Martin?"
"Yes, Elias?"
Elias opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again with a shake of his head.
"Actually, never mind. I will see how it plays out."
Martin let out an annoyed sigh as Elias left. Always so goddamn cryptic.
Hopefully Jon and the others would be back soon to make sense of things.
-
Here's a hypothetical question: What would happen if no one noticed that Jonathan Sims survived the Unknowing?
What if they looked at his stopped heart and still lungs and decided he was dead?
What happens when you bury an Archivist?
T | Words: 9,491 | Chapters: 5/5
Gerrymichael
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Echo Chamber by orphan_account
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
“Look, if you’re another, uh, avatar of a horrible eldritch demon god come to assassinate me in a spooky manner, could you get it over with quickly? I haven’t eaten all morning and I’m starving.”
The thing that calls itself Michael stares.
“And this sandwich cost most of my weekly salary,” Gerry adds after a belated moment.
Part 1 of Spirals and Eyes
T | Words: 21,439 | Chapters: 1/1
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Break Me Like A Pattern by TheLibraryBat
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay & Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay & Gertrude Robinson, Gertrude Robinson & Michael Shelley
The year is 2011. Michael Shelley is living his life in circles, blissfully unaware of the betrayal that awaits him in the summer. Gertrude Robinson has plans to enact and plans to destroy. Emma Harvey is hiding a book in the dark place at the back of a cupboard.
When Gerard Keay walks into the Magnus Institute - two years sooner than he was meant to - everything changes.
This is an (eventual) Archivist Michael AU, exploring how certain events might have played out, had one key player been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Part 1 of Archivist Michael AU
M | Words: 215,290 | Chapters: 40/40
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Choke Chain by dramatispersonae
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/The Distortion
Things Gertrude Robinson possesses: decades of experience killing, containing, and otherwise thwarting supernatural beings, an uncompromising drive to destroy the Rituals and the people who would see them completed, Gerry's loyalty. Things Gertrude Robinson apparently also possesses: a monster on a magic leash.
NR | Words: 14,814 | Chapters: 1/1
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Make Me Feel Like I'm Lost by dramatispersonae
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/MichaelGerard Keay/The Distortion
Gerry meets a door that is not a door. And a person that is not a person. Remarkably, he does not get eaten. He would probably like to keep it that way. (Or, in the process of trying to avoid death by nightmare hallway, Gerard Keay accidentally charms the nightmare hallway)
Part 1 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 11,963 | Chapters: 1/1
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Fill The Gap Between You And I by dramatispersonae
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Michael, like a cat, expresses affection with gifts of dead things. Gerry's trying not to be in the business of collecting strays.
Part 2 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 7,377 | Chapters: 1/1
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The Life Of Letting Go by dramatispersonae
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Gerry suffers a workplace injury. Michael has concerns.
Part 3 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 3,235 | Chapters: 1/1
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Fever Dreaming by dramatispersonae
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Gerry encounters a plot by a nascent avatar of the Corruption. It should be straightforward enough to deal with, especially considering his apparently ongoing... "alliance" with Michael. But when have things in his life actually been as simple as they appear?
Part 4 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 42,284 | Chapters: 5/5
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Please Don’t Eat the Flowers by Sloane
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion, Razor/Wendy, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Instead of retiring to open a book shop, Gerry ends up working at a flower shop run by American lesbians in London. This leads to a brush with the Distortion, who just wants to buy some lilies, the Magnus Institute finding out he’s still alive, and... well, a normal life was never really in the cards for the likes of Gerard Keay, was it?
Oh, and those lesbians who run the flower shop? There’s more to them than meets the eye—bad Beholding pun intended.
(No knowledge of Maniac Mansion required; I take lots of liberties to slot it into TMA’s universe. UNDER MAJOR REVISIONS. Please see last chapter if you’re a new/returning reader for details..)
M | Words: 77,314 | Chapters: 33/?
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Ode to Joy: or, michael distortion's guide to naming yourself by fromthepinnacletothepit
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Michael Shelley is sacrificed to the Spiral before he has the chance to come out, even to himself. Now, as an avatar of the Spiral, his identity is even MORE painful and confusing. Alone and filled with pain he doesn't even know how to name, he searches for acceptance in the one person who ever really knew him-Gerry Keay.
***
“What do you want to be called then,” Gerry says and wraps his arms around Michael’s back.
This conversation hurts. This question hurts. Everything hurts, so long as no one knows about his gender, so long as he has to go on being someone he’s not, someone he just can’t be anymore. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it.
“I dunnooooo,” he says, grinning, but inside he knows his name isn’t Michael. It’s just not. He doesn’t have a name. He never has. And it’s absence is like a hole in his chest.
The creature that might as well be called Michael, it supposes, if you have to call it anything, thinks about this conversation while it sits on the ceiling of its hallway and slowly digs grooves into the plaster with its fingers.
Gerry, it thinks desperately. I have to find Gerry.
G | Words: 14,513 | Chapters: 1/1
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Save That Heart for Me by cedarbranch
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael
Gerry has just filled up his mug with coffee when it hits him. It’s a faint but sharp pain, zinging through his left wrist. He exhales a puff of laughter. That’s the third time this week. Whoever his soulmate is, they’re having a rough time.
T | Words: 5,577 | Chapters: 1/1
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call me your harbor by insertcleveracejoke
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael
There was the matter of the owner. It could not be said that most people, when asked about their mental picture of what the owner of a bookstore should look like, would answer angry-looking goth covered in burn scars from the neck down.
He also had a terrible dye job.
Or: five times Michael went to Gerry's domain for help, and one time the opposite happened.
Part 1 of the bookstore AU
NR | Words: 4,488 | tChapters: 1/1
Other
Fic types I have not read enough of to lend it its own category. If I read more fics of its type, it'll be moved to a new category
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unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Oneshot #54: home improvement: or: Jon and Martin vs. IKEA
Oneshot #55: united front: or: Martin helps Jon with his statement hunger . (Set 159/160)
Oneshot #56: evolution: or: There is an uneasy alliance at first, between Jon and the Archivist
(Short TMA JonMartin one-shots, individual warnings in chapter notes, now with a fully-functioning contents page)
G | Words: 73,687 | Chapters: 56/56
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onto a vast plain by yewgrove
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The world ends. They get married.
Part 2 of it is what you have.
T | Words: 10,313 | Chapters: 1/1
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Out There, Somewhere by Artyphex
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
"I'm sorry, you were found alone."
Jon survived the apocalypse and now will go to the end of this new, unfamiliar world to find Martin again.
T | Words: 54,080 | Chapters: 8/8
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enemy of my enemy by beeclaws
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Jon comes back from his time with the Circus a little worse for wear. Tim has some feelings about that.
M | Words: 6,263 | Chapters: 4/4
Updates
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a map of what matters most by gruhukens added to Time Travel - Mar. 8, 2024
leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) by OllieoftheBeholder added to Time Travel - Mar. 8, 2024
How Particular, My Fondness of You by cedarbranch added to Highly Alternate - Mar. 18, 2024
call me your harbor by insertcleveracejoke added to Gerrymichael - Mar. 18, 2024
tides turning by gauras added to Scottish Safehouse Period - Mar. 18, 2024
a six-step process by bluejayblueskies added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
who's there? by bubonickitten added to England Jonmartin-centic - Mar. 18, 2024
because light reverses, because the dead return by 1248, Tiili97 added to Highly Alternate - Mar. 18, 2024
Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
northwest 6 to gale 8. rain. poor, occasionally good. by chewsdaychillin added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
#the magnus archives#tma#magpod#magnuspod#jonmartin#jmart#teaholding#gerrymichael#doorkeay#fanfiction#fic recs#fic rec#fic rec list#fanfic recs#mag pod#magnus pod#i need to read more time travel fics 😭
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just a sketch but be on the lookout 🕷️
update: they have been rendered… mwahahahhaah
#jonmartin#jmart#the magnus archives#tma#the magnus archives fanart#martin blackwood#martin tma#web!martin#mag pod#jonathan sims#jon sims#moth jon#fic idea i might just write???#jon is trying to stop a corruption ritual#martin is too but hes better at it
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(TW brief allusion to car crashes, monster horror)
Statement of Chitra Kulkarni, regarding the view out of her bedroom window. Originally given 27th May 2008, recorded 31st March 2024, by [REDACTED], Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Manchester.
Statement begins.
I don’t know what you want me to say, ok? I was literally just looking out my window and something seemed weird and now for some fucking reason, I’m here. No, I’m not gonna calm down, I don’t even want to be here in the first place. Jesus christ. [sounds of slumping in chair]
[unintelligible]
Fine. I guess. I can start somewhere.
I.. am not the biggest fan of my room. It’s not like I’ve had many horrific experiences in there, just a lot of shouting and mental breakdowns. But yeah. Lately, I put a lot of energy into making my room…palatable, I guess. Fairy lights and the whole shit. As much as I hate to admit that it worked, it did. Little twinkly fuckers around my room kicked the brain chemicals into working. I guess. Anway, um, in the spirit of mental health, I got into a habit, of sorts. Every night, I would climb onto my washing basket, stretch open the window and reach my head out into the night air. I felt clean, in that cold water on a winter morning way. I felt like god, in that absolute sense of detachment from those below. I wasn’t the person at their door, metallic with alcohol and metal keys and nor would I ever be them. The air was sweet, sugar granules on a milky night sky and I would breathe, deep. Even on the days when all I could think about was the screech of cars and ambulance sirens, I looked down on my little world of street lamps and pavements drenched in darkness like biscuits in tea. Until one day, I saw something.
It began as a flicker. At first, I thought it was the reflection of my fairy lights in the open window. Ha. I just. It looked like just some guy, in a hoodie and jeans and I remember thinking I had similar jeans, in a surreal calmness. But he had a stiffness to him as if he was being held up by a dissociative puppeteer. It could’ve been a million things, maybe he was just some weird guy, having a moment. And then it turned to me. I finally caught a glimpse of his face. It was split into a painful smile, filled to the brim of layers and layers of baby teeth. They didn’t look like they belonged to him. I reached into myself for a scream but found nothing but blind terror. Whatever peace I found in that night sky, was shattered by the knowledge that I was not alone. I was not separate, nor clean. Not when he was looking at me with those sinkhole eyes that never seemed to end, taking over the sky in its entirety.
I don’t know when I stopped looking. I don’t really think I had a choice. I remember the sun glistening through the clouds, reintroducing the rest of my body to my aching eyes. I remember the soreness of my joints and the phone call I immediately made to my boss to take a sick day. I know you might think it’s some kind of hallucination or drug trip and I don’t know how to prove it to you other than coming here and explaining it to you, but i just can’t afford to not be believed,
I see him every time I close my eyes, [REDACTED]. I haven’t slept in days, please, could you please make it stop- i’m begging you PLEASE PLEASE MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT-
Statement ends.
I think I might, um, I think…I’m going to go get some air. Yeah.
[click]
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WOAH GUYS LOOK I WROTE ANOTHER FIC HOW CRIMINAL OF ME. anyway the TMA hyperfixation has set in guys prepare for more of these, anyway here mroe about the fic
Like Real People Do -- G -- 4954 words -- Complete
“Statements huh?” Martin said with a small noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “Even when you're sick? You do know what a break is- right Jon?”
The archivist opened his eyes, shifting in his position into an awkward pose so he could look at Martin, “Despite popular belief, I do in fact know what a break is.”
He went silent for a moment, before continuing, “I think- I’ve been away from them for too long, it’s taking its toll. I thought if I-”
“You thought if you could read a few it would make you feel better?” Martin finished for him, voice kind, “That Ceaseless Watcher needs to calm down, you’re sick and can't help it.”
---
OR Jon is a little sick, has statement withdrawals and is overall the most pathetic man in existence. Martin comes to check in on him
#TJ writes stuff#jmart#jonmartin#tma#tma fanfic#tma fic#the magnus archives#magpod#the mag pod#teaholding
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THEY GET MARRIED IN THIS ONE!!! also
the even higher epic highs and even lower epic lows of new parenthood
fr though wedding they have a wedding!!!!
cute husband moments <3
talking through things or whatever
[Click here to read on Ao3!]
#do it all anew#tma fic#the magnus archives fic#jmart fic#jonmartin fic#jmart#jonmartin#tma#the magnus archives#the mag pod#magnuspod#im uhhhh like REALLY proud of this one so . <3 hope it's enjoyable
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@jonmartinweek Day 5: Body Horror
It is Polite to Knock
The knocking was the worst part. Being trapped, afraid, alone, all of that was bad. The pain was bad. The worms were bad. The monster outside of his apartment was bad. But the knocking was the worst.
Knock, knock, knock.
It is polite to knock .
'Can we talk?' Jon said. His voice was hoarse. Raspy from disuse. It had been days.
The knocking stopped. That was good. Very good. It was all Jon had wanted when he spoke, but he hadn't expected it. He'd shouted and screamed at the door for hours, and that hadn't made the knocking stop.
'I guess that depends... what would you like to talk about?' Martin Blackwood asked from the other side.
Continue reading on Ao3!
Jon, an archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, is trapped in his flat by Martin Blackwood, a man possessed by a hive of flesh-eating worms.
Check the content warnings on this one if you are disturbed by canon-typical Corruption content.
#my posts#my fic#my writing#jonmartin week 2023#jmart#jonmartin#teaholding#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#tma#the magnus archives#magpod#magnus pod#corruption!martin#the flesh hive#heavily inspired by mag 22#this is my first time writing proper horror!#also heads up my next few stories might be posted a bit late
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thanks for the tag, @tunemyart!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
162
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
695,994
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Ted Lasso is the only fandom I'm actively writing in right now. In the past I've also written for Grace and Frankie and The Devil Wears Prada (DWP) as an actual active member of the fandom. I've also dabbled in Doubt, a specific National Theatre production of Twelfth Night, Dead To Me, Killing Eve, 9 to 5 (film), Supergirl, and Carol.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Even now, all five are DWP Miranda/Andy fics. That is wild.
Clean Rooms and Dirty Light
Lightyear
Twenty Questions
Ice Water
Calibrated
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! I think I've replied to nearly every comment I've received. I really, really appreciate comments no matter how quick or detailed they are and while I don't think writers have an obligation to respond to anything they don't want to, I always love hearing back from writers when I comment on their fic. Receiving a fic comment feels like an incredible opportunity to thank someone for reading and chat about the story. One of my favorite things about fandom is the interactive component; when I publish something in a lit mag, I might hear from a few people about it, but when I publish fic there's a built-in audience/community and I do not take that for granted.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Maybe "Millimeters" (Grace/Frankie), in which Grace ends the story pining for Frankie, who is in a relationship with someone else? But even that story doesn't actually have an angsty ending; by the time I published it, I was already in the process of publishing a multi-chapter fic that was the third and final part of the series and that has a very happy ending.
No matter how much angst I put characters through in fic, I am pretty committed to endings that have some degree of hope and at least the possibility of joy!
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I could answer with so many fics, but I'll go with "The Adventure" (Ted/Rebecca) because its ending is explicitly about Rebecca appreciating her life, sharing this appreciation with Ted, and feeling happy about her immediate future.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
If I have, I've blocked it out. I often put a note on my fics saying I am open to constructive criticism, and while I occasionally get criticism/questions/requests for additional tagging/etc. (all of which I welcome!), I've never gotten a properly hateful comment.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Absolutely! The sex I write tends to be relatively feelings-y, but that doesn't mean it isn't smutty! I absolutely love writing sex and a significant portion of my stories contain some kind of explicit content. I'm not totally sure what "what kind" means but by this point I've written solo sex, couple sex, and group sex in a variety of queer and hetero contexts. I've written more femslash sex than anything else, but I love writing it all!
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I have tried but never successfully published any. I was really trying to make a DWP + Grace and Frankie crossover work for a long time but it just isn't the way my brain operates. I did write a story about Grace and Frankie watching Killing Eve with their ex husbands, though! :D
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not word-for-word/reposted, but I've had significant passages and concepts from fic plagiarized. It annoyed me.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not yet but some may be in the works?! I've had lots of fic podficced before, and while all the podfics are in the same language, they still feel in some ways like a delightful act of translation.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! The Ted Lasso Ted/Beard podfic @boglady, @podklb, and @rockinhamburger "Just Missed You," which we created for @pod-together.
I've also collaborated more loosely on a couple fics, like the Ted/Rebecca fic "Rebecca Welton, 2021" (@boglady wrote the first chapter and gave me permission to write chapter two and @diane-lockharts permission to write chapter three) and the Beard/Ted + pre-Beard/Rebecca/Ted fic "Before and After" (@theodore-lasso wrote the first chapter and gave me permission to write a chapter two).
I might be forgetting something older, but those are the ones that come to mind.
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
Impossible question! When I'm fixated on something it's my most favorite thing forever in a way that sort of limits my ability to think broadly and actually answer the question. So it FEELS like my answer is a tie between Ted/Rebecca and Ted/Rebecca/Keeley/Roy and Beard/Rebecca/Ted and any Ted/soulmate situation and that might actually be accurate because I can't recall my brain deep-diving into character quite like this before. But also, Miranda/Andy?! To have started writing about them in 2008 and to still read them sometimes and to have beta-read stories about within the last few months...that's some wild staying power, man.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Oof, I've had a couple barely-started AU ideas for Ted Lasso that I am just 100% sure I'll never have the energy to write. Everything else, never say never! Either I don't want to finish and won't or I want to finish and might!
16. What are your writing strengths?
Detail, I think? I really love thinking about super-specific sensory experiences and exactly how a character would feel and respond, and trying to carve "meaning" from the ordinary little details that stack up to form life.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I sometimes struggle with blocking and describing movements. I also struggle a lot with conveying big feeling transitions. For instance, I might be able to write yearning, and I might be able to write that same character in a reciprocal relationship with the person they once yearned for, but that moment when things change can be really hard to write.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
As long as it's in-character, yeah! I don't think I've really had cause to do this. The closest thing recently might be Rebecca sending a text message in Dutch. I didn't translate it; translating it wasn't required to understand the meaning of the story, so it was more like a bonus for anyone who cared to translate it.
I don't love it when a character who speaks multiple languages peppers their speech with random well-known-to-English-speaking-audiences words in a non-English language when it feels like the writers is just reminding the reader about this fact about the character. But I love it when it's done in a way that resembles how people actually switch between languages as they speak!
19. First fandom you wrote for?
The Devil Wears Prada, back in 2008!
20. Favorite fic you've ever written?
Fic I haven't published yet! Always gotta have aspirations. <3
"Lavender II" (Beard/Rebecca/Ted) is a fic that I worked incredibly hard on and feel proud of because it just ended up being what I wanted and needed it to be, so maybe that's my favorite out of stuff I've actually already written.
tagging in a no-pressure way: anyone who was tagged throughout my answers + @talldecafcappuccino @dollsome-does-tumblr @broadwayfreak5357 @itsagutthing @kittensittin @thesumdancekid @fandomfrolics @waywardted @sapphicscholar @majolination + anyone who sees this and wants to do it (I probably meant to tag you anyway!)
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Ok I will say. Hot take here but i think JM in s5 is not MEANT to be healthy. I think that’s the whole entire point. It’s never portrayed as healthy; they spend the whole time bickering and arguing and not trusting each other and being so horrifically extremely codependent it’s pointed out BY ONE OF THE AVATARS, THE LITERAL HARVESTERS OF HORROR. I think making them dysfunctional is entirely the point. The last episodes they appear in together they’re arguing about jon becoming GOD, martin is very obviously against it, and jon simply decides he Does Not Care. And i mean, in the grand scheme of things? Jon, well, he’s correct! Doom one world and not millions of others. Martin isn’t portrayed as correct here- (in ‘checking out’, Jon says he knows martin is fine with the theoretical suffering of others, but when he actually SEES it then he’ll be horrified- same logic applies to his take on release the fears vs keep em in 199) all of them are just.. people. With opinions. Not really any of them good, or the standard, or healthy in the slightest. If you’re constantly bickering with your boyfriend about the morality of consuming other people’s terror, asking him to smite people you dislike, and practically insulting him at some points.. i don’t think that’s an intentionally healthy portrayal. Jmart is purposefully dysfunctional in canon, and I don’t think it’s bad writing because of it. And it goes both ways, too! Jon can be pretty mean to Martin throughout the pod!! He insults him behind his back to vent his frustrations about their relationship! Because, hey, loving each other isn’t enough, you’ve got to Actually Make It Work. And they can’t (won’t?) ever do the latter.
Actually, another hot take: not a single relationship exists in tma without extremely jagged or messed up edges. Even the canon ones, especially jmart. Because it’s a hORROR PODCAST.
…evil murder husbands JE, though? I get what you guys mean, tbh. That may be the exception to the above rule.
Same anon as before, i just wanted to add that none of that is from a place of frustration I just want to have a discussion about s5 jmart tbh. I feel like how unhealthy jm is isn’t spoken about in the context of ‘what if it’s intentional?’ Because a lottt of people just assume it’s bad writing when. No, no, i think jonny knows what a healthy relationship looks like, and this absolutely isn’t it (and that is pointed out in-canon)
Outside of my jmart Thoughts, I absolutely adore your writing!! How you DESCRIBE things just completely sticks me in the room in a way I don’t usually experience when reading fic. I sadly don’t really have any jonelias prompts floating around up in me noggin (for NOW), but i just wanted to say that. You’re super cool! I like seeing your stuff on my dash! Sorry i’m an anon, also; I fear people may come for me with fire and pitchforks if i were to use my main lmao. You’re really great at writing their dynamic!!
hey! thank you for sharing your thoughts. i'm not really a productive person to have this conversation with though because i haven't listened past MAG 166 (I have previously said multiple times that I never got past episode 4 of s5. turns out that's incorrect! the last episode i got to was The Worms, I misremembered it as 4 episodes because the first 2 episodes of s5 take place in Daisy's safehouse, so I was counting the number of statement episodes i listened to. they were extremely disappointing so they stuck with me. the jmart plays house episodes i just blacked out i guess as a defense mechanism.)
so, i really can't weigh in on what you've said here because i haven't experienced this season and i'm not going to. publishing both to respond and because maybe other people would like to have this conversation with you and it's clear you've put a lot of thought into this understanding of the text!
what i will say though is that i don't doubt that jonny sims knows what a healthy relationship looks like. i'm not pretending i know anything about him or his irl marriage (besides the crazy and immediate chemistry he and sasha have solely as disembodied voices) but he does write a lot of healthy relationships from his statement givers. people who love and care about each other in romantic, platonic, and familial ways that feel real and three dimensional.
but i'm actually totally uninterested in what sort of healthy relationships he can write, though. i don't seek out healthy relationships in my fiction lmao i seek out interesting ones. i don't want my blorbos to talk to one another like they're on the couch at couple's therapy.
my problem with jmart isn't that it's "unhealthy", it's that it's rewarded by the narrative. i'm supposed to believe that jon and martin randomly getting together in 158/9 is a culmination of their hard work. a reprieve from their suffering. finally, after all that horror, they can end up together. it's a reward for them! it's immediately taken away and that's supposed to be the tragedy. of having had a glimpse at happiness, or having closed your fingers around it, and then it being snatched away.
it's like, have you seen the descent (2005)? if you haven't i recommend it, it's one of my favorite movies. good buried statement. if you liked Lost Johns' Cave you'll love the descent (2005). i'm gonna spoil it for you now though, so sorry if you haven't seen it.
there's a scene near the end where our sole survivor sees daylight. she crawls for like a mile with broken limbs over sharp rocks and her hand breaches the surface. she escapes into the open air. she screams in the most primal, life affirming, animalistic way as she breaths lung full after lung full of fresh air. and then we snap back to reality and she is miles and miles beneath the earth, hallucinating her salvation.
it's really really affecting. it's such a gut punch. you think, huh, we're close to the end of our runtime, i've really come to care about this person. i'm so relieved that she's getting out. i'm experiencing her euphoria at finally escaping. and then it's all ripped away from you. it's incredible!!!
that's what 158 - 160 was supposed to be. jmart in their little scottish cabin with their little highland cows was the fresh air. except ,well, it didn't taste like fresh air to me! it felt like turning around 180* and crawling back into the dark. i think jon and martin are awful for one another but more than that: i don't believe that they find comfort in one another.
one of the chief draws of jon/elias is that elias is a reprieve for jon. he's the one person in his life who he is close to that doesn't hate him. that doesn't verbally abuse him as soon as he catches sight of him. he's also the person responsible for turning him into a monster but listen, you win some you lose some. every relationship has give and take. i: isolate you from everyone you know and drag you deeper into your paranoia. you: crawl to me for comfort only i can give you. romance!
i don't see the doomed romance that people who like jmart talk about because i don't see the two of them ever enjoying one another's company. i don't see anything that they have in common. i see them sort of hunker down as s1's sole survivors but even then, martin is pulling away from jon as hard as he can. we as the audience know this is because of peter, but basira tells jon it's because his mom died (??????) and he hates him too (?????).
so, i don't think that jmart is bad writing because it's supposed to be a great relationship and it's actually really unhealthy. i think jmart is bad writing because their plot arc hinges on me believing, despite 160 episodes giving ample evidence to the contrary, that they are in love with one another. maybe it's bad love, maybe it's a lie or an illusion or a veneer. whatever. i still need to believe (i the audience, the beholder in whose eye this is playing out) that they are in love. with one another.
and i honestly can't even picture them further than arm's length apart.
um also turning around to twirl my hair thank you SO much for your kind words about my writing D: i really appreciate that, it means a lot!!! i think it's obvious i care about this podcast a lot and i spend a lot of time thinking about it so thank you for sharing your thoughts with me and for reading my stuff. you are welcome here on or off anon, i'll also happily not publish things if you would like me not to publish them.
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i think it's absolutely rigged that this episode falls on april fools day actually. APRIL FOOLS! everything is still awful actually
Hi howdy this episode is so sad :( I'm so sad constantly about this episode. this episode. :( can't wait until the FUN season 5 bits where it's like they're GAY and there are so many ANALOGIES! instead we just have to wallow in sadness for a bit. so upset!! aa!!
Anyway yeah, lets go. I think when I listened to it at first I was really upset that I was at the end, like I was thinking "oh no I'm nearly at the end" back with 151. I still haven't listened to goodbye for now because it just makes me really sad that my favourite podded cast is over. I mean, good thing it's not now, but I still don't think I can make myself listen to it. I did put off MAG 200 for a while, and then when I actually did listen to it I immediately read Citrus' (CirrusGrey) fics about it.
Which, speaking of, it's season 5 time!!! Fuck dude it sure is! Not only a relisten, but a reread of all Citrus' fantastic fics!! YEAH!!! Ok, ok, ok, getting on with it now.
@a-mag-a-day
MARTIN
You had- rum and raisin, and taught us all about emulsifiers.
He has the ice cream taste of a grandmother. Oh, also, funny story. So, we were getting ice cream, right, and I saw rum and raisin, and I got really upset, because Jon Sims had rum and raisin ice cream, and also the world ended. I don't- everything is a TMA reference with me, once someone asked me to open the door and I started laughing, because Jon Sims opened a door.
It's... very... odd.
JONAH MAGNUS (AS ELIAS)
Knock knock.
Killing and maiming. I hate him so much. Die. Fucking die.
JONAH
He didn’t have to. Nothing escapes my notice, and I like to keep an eye out for this sort of thing.
This guy is COMICALLY evil. like, not only does he end the world, but he ruins a cake surprise? why is he such a bastard?
ARCHIVIST
Uh- thirty-eight.
HE JUST ADDED TEN YEARS ONTO HIS AGE HE'S SO FUCKING STUPID <3
TIM, SASHA, MARTIN
(Crosstalk) -Jon.
JONAH
(Crosstalk) -Archivist.
WHY??? Literally, like, why, why, why is he like this, why, why??? Why did he do that? Why is he such an asshole? Why.
Why.
why.
ARCHIVIST
If I wish for you all to go away, do you think it’ll work?
WHY ARE WE GETTING HIT WITH THE DRAMATIC IRONY BUS? WHY? "If I wish for you all to go away, do you think it'll work" STOP NO, WHY, WHYYYY...
it just makes me really sad.
ARCHIVIST
I can’t tell you.
Your honour I am holding him gently.
JONAH
He wished for a little bit of peace and quiet.
It's one thing to manipulate someone into ending the world, it's quite another to SHARE THEIR WISH? Dude. Why is he like this? This does nothing for him? He has taken one of Jon's only happy memories from working at the hell that's called an archive and twisted it into "oh boy, look at all that pain." For no fucking reason except to be evil. Killing and murder.
MARTIN
Oh! Uh, (slight laugh) I mean- I don’t- normally- drink wine, you know- t-tannins are a proven headache trigger, and so-
Ooh! Fun fact! Rooibos tea has low tannin compared to other tea, therefore, Martin drinks rooibos tea, I make the rules.
TIM
Oh! Yeah! I- just thought it might be nice, you know, something to look back on when we’re all old and sick of each other.
WHY. WHY. WHY.
"When we're all old and sick of each other" THEYRE NEVER GONNA GET OLD AND SICK OF EACH OTHER THEYRE ALL GOING TO DIE. THEYRE ALREADY DEAD AND THEY DONT EVEN KNOW IT. IM GOING TO CRY NOW.
ARCHIVIST
(Crosstalk) (Under his breath) Oh, hypocrite.
I hate that it sounds friendly, like they're getting annoyed at each other in a friendly way, that Jon is friends with Tim and Sasha. Hate it. So much. Headinhands.
TIM
(Crosstalk) Alright, alright, fine, look. I’m turning it off. Any last words for your future selves?
ARCHIVIST
Yes. Fire Tim!
ARHRRHGGGHGH </3
[Pause with clothing rustles]
CLOTHING RUSTLES!!!!! 🏳️🌈
ARCHIVIST
It’s not- (struggling) you’re not the one who ended the world.
(Archivist breath shows he’s close to tears)
Oh my god leave me alone. Stop it! Stop it!! It's just. Like. Christ. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can't even word properly, I just want to give him a hug, I just want him to be okay. Fuck, dude.
Why's jonny such a good voice actorrrr :(
MARTIN
Are we still safe?
ARCHIVIST
Y-Yes. It- It doesn’t want to harm me.
MARTIN
And me?
ARCHIVIST
I won’t let it.
I like the way Jon's voice is in the "it doesn't want to harm me." Like it's sort of vaguely hysterical.
ARCHIVIST
I’m just- I’m mourning a world I killed-
MARTIN
(Placating) I know-
ARCHIVIST
(Increasingly fervent) and we’re all trapped in its rotting corpse!-
I like this bit a lot. I think it's neat. I'm gay and I like rot. I need to read... what was it, thirteen stories I think? That's got the rot. I like the rot. 10/10 on the rot. Like hnmmn what Jane Prentiss says about the dead god, a world that was alive, was sentient, now dead, rotting with maggots and flies all over it, flesh squishy and yielding but also firm at the same time like a bruised apple, trapped on an actually dead corpse of a world.
That would be neat!!
ARCHIVIST
Can you imagine? If we’d had this?
MARTIN
But we didn’t though, did we.
ARCHIVIST
No—
MARTIN
So there’s no point in dwelling.
ooOOOoooh title drop
but also... </3 like he could have kept them. he could have not done that. he could have not put the fucking solution to everything right after it becomes moot.
stabbing.
ARCHIVIST
Healthy? I am an Avatar of voyeuristic terror, who unquestioned craving for knowledge has condemned the entire world to an eternity of torment; healthy i-isn’t- i,it’s not
I've written this so much on like every test, it lives in my mind rent free, it's hhnrnhrnnh holding it gently <3 like i don't even know what to say, this is a far cry from the whole mag 160 thing where it lived in my head rent free and so does a lot of words about it, here it's just... a lot of reaction images.
ARCHIVIST
Why not? It- It’s quiet, here, and I have you.
ARHGHHGHHH
<333
ARCHIVIST
No, it’s- I love you, I just— I need more time.
headinhands (good)
AND ALRIGHT CITRUS' FIC FOR TODAY IS SEVEN SLEEPS! WHICH I REALLY LIKE IT AND ITS JUST LIKE ITS JUST LIKE I KNEW WHAT I WAS SIGNING UP FOR, I KNEW WHAT THE OUTCOME WOULD BE, I KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN. and like the whole bloody season it's just like it's just :( CITRUS ::::(((
read it. it's so good.
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TMA Appreciation Week, August 12: Somewhere Else
Spoilers through MAG 200.
The first morning was odd.
They'd fallen asleep on the single bed without a protest, dropping their ozone-scented clothes on the floor, and collapsing naked together onto the musty sheets.
Neither had cared. Jon's side was still bandaged, and still sluggishly bleeding. They'd traveled a portal and landed in a field and been crushed by a corpse and panicked and stitched and somehow walked ages (Jon said it was 5.2 kilometers) until they'd seen this house at fuck-o-clock in the morning and found it empty.
Martin could smell himself. He was ripe. Quietly as he could, he slid out of bed.
He didn't look at Jon more than once.
At Jon's sleeping face, strained, brown skin gone gray with pain in the morning light. At his dark hair streaked with white, and all the lines in his face and neck that Martin knew were closed eyes.
At the most beautiful man he'd ever seen that made him want to cry or thank whatever gods there were or maybe just grab Jon like a pillow and lie on top of him for the duration.
Martin made himself go shower.
When he got out, it was to the smell of burnt toast.
#
"What do you think you're doing out of bed, Mister Sims?" Martin said with a weak smile, and was only half-joking.
"Hi," said Jon, looking nervous and uncomfortable and hopeful and red, his bandage already bled through, his feet bare. He swallowed. "I... just wanted to be useful. Not a burden. You know."
"Oh, Jon." Martin approached him carefully, steps light, as if determined not to spook. "You're not a burden. Let me change your bandage."
"Your second statement absolutely belies the first," said Jon loftily.
Martin laughed. "Dork. Come on."
"But I already burned toast for us and everything," Jon said with a weak smile of his own, but let Martin lead him to the tiny, dusty table.
It took a few minutes to change the bandage; the knife-wound was ugly, jagged, ragged. It had been bad enough when the Web's portal sucked them away, but then Jonah Magnus' dead body had landed on top of them, dislodging the blade in the worst possible way.
"Gonna need to stitch this," Martin said, taping.
"I'm sorry," whispered Jon.
"Don't be. You were probably right." Martin hated to say it, couldn't meet his eyes. "We've damned a whole new universe. I know you were right. I know."
"Then why did you go through with their plan?" Jon said, almost sharply.
Martin met his eyes. "For the same reason you couldn't go through with yours."
"I couldn't lose you," Jon said, haggard.
"And I couldn't lose you," Martin said, soft.
Jon's face twisted. But a moment before he could get too bad, Martin came around the table and knelt on the floor and wrapped himself around Jon in a hug.
Jon stayed seated, bent over Martin's head, and wept softly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Martin's hands were firm on his back. "You think you're the first person to ever make a mistake in a relationship? I know you weren't yourself. We're going to be okay."
"I kept thinking of you," said Jon. "Remembering you. The Eye didn't want me to, but I wouldn't let go. I wouldn't let go. It's why I could... still change direction, at the end."
Martin's breath was shaky. "That's why we're going to be okay. I forgive you for breaking your promise if you forgive me for ignoring your pain."
Jon inhaled and held it.
"I know," whispered Martin. "I get it now. You were so ready to die, and you said it, you said so, and I just... didn't listen. That's my fault."
"Nothing is your fault!" Jon said, his fingers digging into Martins' back.
"You're here, Jon. And because you are, so am I. And because we are... we're going to be all right."
Jon's sniffles slowed. "We're going to be all right."
"We are. We're going to make it."
"I believe it because I have you," Jon whispered. "Forgive me."
"Already have," said Martin.
"I love you," said Jon.
"Always," said Martin, and tilted his head back for a kiss.
PART ONE HERE
@tmaappreciationweek
#tma#tma fic#tmaappreciationweek2023#tmaappreciationweek#jmart#mag 160#tma spoilers#magnus pod#the magnus archives#short fic#flash fiction#somewhere else
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025 || ☆ ⁺ « LIKE FIREWORKS BUT INSIDE.
previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents
pairing : vento aureo x gn reader
summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew
notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot
word count : 3k+
★˚⋆ YOU HAD BEEN HALF CONVINCED Asswipe was bullshitting you, but there really was a maintenance door at the back of the transport ship.
You caught sight of it as your crew was shuffled into the ship. As with before, your crew’s magcuffs were secured on one side to the ship’s wall. Asswipe left you not long after that, going to speak to the flight crew.
The transport gang on the ship was meagre. Aside from your crew, there were only a handful of other inmates, including a woman with two large braided buns and another with seemingly triangular scars. You listened to their conversation about breast implants for a few minutes before turning to the rest of the crew.
“Did you manage to contact Narancia?” you asked Fugo.
He nodded. “He’s been following behind the penitentiary the whole time. I told him to expect an escape pod to break off from the transport ship. If he listened, he should be following us now.”
“Did he sound . . . alright?”
“Not any different than he usually does.”
It was only a few days since you’d left him. If something had happened, to his eye particularly, you hoped Coco had helped him out. Narancia hated asking anyone for anything, which was admirable most days, but today only made you worry. You realized it was saying a lot that you wanted to rely on the turtle for anything. It had only been a few weeks ago that you’d been afraid it would jack the airlock or something.
The plan to escape wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before. You would get out of the restraints, get into the maintenance uniforms, and jack into one of the emergency escape pods to fly back for Narancia to pick you up. The only thing was that the lack of inmates would make your escape more conspicuous. You could usually rely on other people’s numbers to distract the GA’s, but you would just have to be a little more cautious this time around. Success varied between attempts. Greatly. It was a plan he had come up with during the crew’s infancy and if nothing else, it was a durable plan.
Maybe you should have been anxious. Wary. But you were just tired. If you were remembering right, you had two weeks left until Zero’s deadline passed. You weren’t quite worried about it yet, but two weeks did seem to be pressing it a little close. You liked your breathing room, and so far, and you hadn’t gotten much of it.
By now, everyone had gone through this escape plan more times than they could count. Only JoJo was a little skittish, his nerves wound close to snapping.
“Relax,” Mista said, nudging him. “We escape from transport ships like this every other day. Just do what we tell you, and you’ll be just fine. I heard about that stunt you pulled with Gwess’ bird, by the way. Well done, rookie.”
“It was nothing,” JoJo said distractedly. He scratched at a spot beneath his jaw. “Are you sure Inspector Abbacchio will let us escape so easily?”
“We’ve done it before,” Trish said, frowning as Spice Girl worked on the mag cuffs. “This time shouldn’t be any different.”
“It could be.”
“How long do you think we’ve been doing this?” Fugo asked tartly.
JoJo blanched. “I just mean that—”
“Got it,” Trish said, shaking her wrist loose. She shifted over to start working on your cuffs.
“Let’s not fall apart now,” you said. “At least hold it together until we get to the ship.”
Fugo thumped his head back in his seat. “Assuming we even make it there.”
During little missions like this, you liked bringing Trish along for her silver tongue and Narancia for his scoping and firepower. Mista and Fugo would be left behind to bullshit GA’s. Now that Narancia wasn’t here, you were left wondering if it would be more worth it to bring Mista with you or leave him here. As your unspoken second in command, it would probably make more sense to leave him. Back when he had still been here, it had been a no brainer to leave him where the action wasn’t needed.
Most of the time, you were pretty good at not thinking about him. If you got to thinking about him, it only made you realize everything you were missing. Still, watching Trish work, you couldn’t help seeing him in her place. His Stand could place zippers on the cuffs, or on your arms themselves if you were so inclined. They would unwind and leave behind swirling abysses where bone and tendon should be. It was lucky that he was the user and not someone else when there was so much else he could have done.
You really didn’t appreciate what you had until it was gone.
“Everyone wait here until Trish and I get back,” you said as soon as Trish had released you from your mag cuffs. “Be ready to go.” You had Party Rock emerge and take out the Stand card you’d gotten from Polpo. It slipped it into one of Fugo’s pockets. Better to have your engineer hang onto it in case something happened to you.
JoJo’s face twitched. “Are you sure about this?”
“Feel free to escape on your own if you don’t trust me.”
JoJo looked half inclined to do just that. You frowned at him, insulted.
“I can go instead,” Mista said. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“What do you mean? Of course I want to. I have to.”
Mista pursed his lips, not able to meet your eye. You didn’t have time for this. You darted a look towards the corridor, then the other prisoners before slipping out behind Trish.
It was pitch black in the corridor outside. You tapped your foot experimentally on the ground and dim green light strips glowed along the floor. Not keen to waste time, you hurried along the corridor to the maintenance door you’d seen earlier, Trish close behind. You found the door and Trish made to melt the keypad with Spice Girl before you stopped her.
“Someone’s going to notice,” you whispered. Instead, you pulled her into the corner and held a finger to your lips. Sure enough, a maintenance worker came by, whistling under his breath. You hooked an arm around his neck, stifling his yell, and waited until he went limp before lowering him into the corner.
You flashed the access card at Trish. The maintenance door opened smoothly, revealing a handful of spare uniforms, dusty cleaning bots and some empty shelves. The uniform you slipped into fit well enough, but no matter how Trish struggled, she couldn’t close the buttons over her chest.
“What is going on?” she muttered.
“Maybe you did get fatter,” you couldn’t resist saying. She shot you a murderous look.
You found a different uniform for Trish to switch into. Once both of you were decent, you went over to one of the displays on the walls to bring up the floorplan of the ship.
“Everyone’s being kept here,” you said, circling the spot on the green hologram. You made a straight line to the back of the ship on its lower level. “We’ll have to bring them back here. Says that there’s supposed to be three escape pods ready to go.”
“We’ll have to pass by the cockpit,” Trish said. “You sure we’ll be able to get by without Asswipe noticing?”
“He’ll notice alright. How much time do you think you need to free everyone else? I’ll try to find a way to distract Asswipe. Once you guys pass by the cockpit, you’ll have to wipe the cameras and dismiss any comms.”
“Distract him how, exactly?”
You gave Trish a look. “What’s with that tone? This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“I know. It’s just—” Trish cut off whatever she’d been about to say. “Ten minutes, max. It shouldn’t be hard to say there’s something wrong with their magcuffs and that I need to bring them around back for further screening.”
“Good. Meet me at one of the escape pods.” You were about to leave before you suddenly remembered. “Make sure everyone has a helmet and oxygen tank. Better safe than sorry in case one of those pods ejects us.”
Trish nodded. “Got it, Cap.” She didn’t leave right away, continuing to stare at you.
“Are you going to kiss me or something?”
She didn’t smile. She only pursed her lips and slipped out of the maintenance room.
You gave her two minutes before you followed. You didn’t appreciate the newfound skepticism your crew was treating you with. They were treating you like you didn’t know how to do your job. Like you were a half-assed captain.
You’d show them half-assed.
You found the cockpit door and knocked on it firmly with your knuckles. You tugged down the brim of your cap, churning up an excuse that would get Asswipe to come with you. Faulty airlock maybe. Or you could say you’d seen one of the inmates attempting to escape and knock him over the head once he started chasing after them.
You stifled a grin. That’d be funny.
The cockpit door slid open and you were lucky enough to be answered by Asswipe himself.
“Sorry to bother you, sir,” you said, roughening your voice. “Problem with the airlock. Need official clearance to reset it.”
“Yes, of course.” Asswipe stepped out of the cockpit and followed you down the corridor. You saw the maintenance door coming up and raised your hand.
“I just need to grab something, sir.”
You scanned your pilfered key card. You turned as the door opened, ready to pull Asswipe inside, but he surprised you by shoving you inside you first.
You fell to the ground inside the maintenance room with a grunt, Asswipe clenching the front of your shirt. The maintenance doors hissed shut behind him and there was only the faint glow of the floor light strips to illuminate anything.
The sound of your breathing was harsh in your ears. You tried to sit up and push Asswipe off of you but his grip was disconcertingly strong. Changing your approach, you slipped your fingers into your maintenance uniform.
Card. Squeeze. Elector.
“Get the flack off of me,” you snarled, pressing the elector into Asswipe’s chest.
Not to be outdone, Asswipe pressed his own elector into your forehead. “Can’t you at least listen to me before you shoot?”
“Not when you’re pressing me into the floor, I can’t.”
To your shock, Asswipe actually listened and removed his hand. He kept his elector lined up with your forehead, though. He allowed you to push up into a sitting position, his gaze intent as he crouched next to you. Your hand begged to pull the elector trigger but Asswipe hadn’t shot you, so you were obliged to give him the same courtesy.
“You’re going to escape,” Asswipe said. It wasn’t a question.
“No shit.”
“I’m not going to stop you.”
“Did I die and meet the stars already?”
Asswipe sat back on his heels. His pale hair could be seen dimly in the light, along with the fine line of his cheekbone.
“You’re transporting something for Zero, yes?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing to me personally, but the Imperial family seems to have an interest. Namely the interim prince, Prince Donatello.”
“I don’t give a flack about him.”
“Maybe you should. Recently he hasn’t shown an interest in anything besides the deceased crown prince and now your thieving crew. I’d be on my guard.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?”
Asswipe looked away. You eyed him suspiciously. An elector pulse would be easier to deal with than whatever this was.
“How much time do you have left?” he asked instead.
You drew back. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I hope you know what you’re getting into, Captain. You stand to lose a lot more than you gain.”
“The last thing I need is a Galactic Authority officer telling me what to do.”
“You like jobs to be easy and quick. Why accept something like this that’s taking you over two weeks to complete?” Asswipe’s gaze was intense. It was disconcerting, staring into his violet-yellow eyes. You had the stupid thought that his eyes could be quite beautiful under other circumstances.
Your voice wasn’t quite as strong as you would’ve liked. “Don’t act like you know me.”
Asswipe clenched his jaw. “Would you believe me if I said I was trying to help you?”
Your heart dropped and your elector fell into your lap.
“Excuse me?”
Asswipe shoved his elector into his shoulder holster. He shook out his ponytail and shrugged off his uniform coat, shucking it into the corner.
“Knock me out,” he commanded.
“What?”
“If you want to get your crew out of here without interference, you’ll have to knock out the GA’s right?” His dry smile could barely be seen. “The pilot and copilot are out cold. How unfortunate that you managed to knock me out too. Shouldn’t be too hard to escape after that.”
You stared at him. “Are you being serious?”
“I’d think so—”
You smashed your elector handle over Asswipe’s temple. He slumped forward and you only felt a little guilty about it.
You waved a hand over Asswipe’s face, pulled his coat over him like a blanket, and stepped over him to leave the maintenance room.
I’ll have a headache about this later.
You darted down the corridor, searching for the stairs down to the lower level. You leapt down the steps once you found them, a sense of urgency suddenly electrifying your veins.
You found everyone near the exit doors, slipping into helmets and oxygen tanks. “Is everything alright?” You checked everyone quickly over, satisfied when no one appeared hurt.
“The pilot and copilot were already out when we got to the cockpit,” Mista said, helping JoJo get his oxygen tank on. “A little weird but it made things easier. We wiped the camera and ship logs. Should take the GA’s a while to find us again.”
“Did you deal with Asswipe?” Trish asked, her voice muffled under the helmet.
“He dealt with himself,” you muttered, reaching around Mista for an oxygen tank. These days they looked more like little backpacks than full on unwieldy tanks. One would be good for around ten hours once hooked up to the helmet.
“Slight problem,” Fugo said from where he was fiddling with the displays for the escape pods. “One pod only allows four passengers.”
You peered over his shoulder. “It’s too much work to steal another pod.”
“I know that. We can probably all squeeze into one but I don’t know whether or not it’ll affect the pod’s processing power. It might not be able to fly as far as it’s supposed to.” He wiped a line of sweat trickling down his temple with his shoulder. “We’ll just have to hope Narancia’s behind us like he said.”
“Get in, everyone,” you said, nodding at the open escape pod. “It’ll be a tight fit. Suck in your stomachs.”
An elector pulse took out your next words. You flinched into a crouch, hand going to your pocket for your elector.
“Stop where you are immediately! We’ve been authorized to shoot!” someone shouted.
Mista swore. “Shit. I thought the pilot was out!”
Evidently not. Asswipe must have set you up. The pilot let out another shot, starting forward for Fugo. You batted at his leg.
“Get in the pod, Fugo!”
“I haven’t finished—”
“Get in!”
You pushed him inside, ducking as Mista fired at the pilot over your head. You knelt near the control panel to scan over the escape pod settings, only half-reading everything before pressing the glaring green EJECT button at the bottom. You scrambled in after Fugo, just missing an elector pulse at your back.
“Captain, your helmet!”
Mista jammed a helmet over your head, nearly knocking you over. He squeezed into the pod after you, pulling the door shut behind him. A second later, your stomach bottomed out as the pod shot out into space.
Fugo hadn’t been kidding. It was a deathly tight squeeze in the pod.
“Oh, I can’t breathe,” Trish wheezed. “Can someone please move their elbow?”
“I need to get to the navigation panel,” Fugo said. “Move over, Mista.”
“Dude, that is my leg,” said Mista. “Would you—ow! Flack!”
“Sorry!” JoJo squeaked. “Sorry!”
You could barely get your arms up to put your helmet on properly. You hoped someone had a handle on where the pod was going because you could barely see outside let alone steer the damn thing.
“Do we know where we’re going?” you asked. “Have we made contact with Coco and Narancia yet?”
“For the love of stars, move!” Fugo snapped. “We’re going to collapse if I don’t—”
The pod dropped suddenly. Everyone screamed as their heads slammed into the ceiling of the pod. Your helmet nearly came off entirely and you were trying to screw it back on when there was a thunk and then a long hiss.
Mista’s voice cracked. “What was that?”
“Uh, why is the door vibrating like that?” JoJo asked.
“Try not to put pressure on it,” you said. You weren’t in the right direction to see the door but you probably wouldn’t have liked what you saw. “Look, you just need to—”
The hiss got louder. Your heart shot into your throat and you reached out for something to hold on to.
Of course the pod had to start beeping. The cramped space was suddenly awash in red lights and a crisp female voice telling you to
[ PLEASE MOVE AWAY FROM THE POD DOOR. HAZARD DETECTED. ]
“Yo, I wanna get off this thing,” Mista moaned.
“Is anyone else feeling lightheaded or is that just me?” You were starting to feel a little woozy. The red lights were very pretty. Like fireworks, but inside.
“What? Captain, is your helmet on properly?”
[ PLEASE MOVE AWAY FROM THE POD DOOR. HAZARD DETECTED. ]
“She sounds hot,” you said, smiling. “Anyone have her number?”
“Captain make sure—”
“Why is it so—so hot in here? I wanna take this thing off.” You reached to take off the stupid helmet. You couldn’t see a thing in it. The pod erupted into chaos.
“Don’t!”
“Someone hold them down!”
“Just hang on, I’m trying to—”
“Ow! That’s my foot!”
“This helmet is so heavy . . .”
“Wait! No, no, no, don’t—”
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#kismetva#jjba#jjba x reader#jjba fanfic#golden wind#golden wind x reader#vento aureo#vento aureo x reader#gender neutral reader#sci fi au
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
#ACLA24#ACLA24Leaders#youtube#youtube video#climate leaders#climate solutions#climate action#climate and environment#climate#climate change#climate and health#climate blog#climate justice#climate news#weather and climate#environmental news#environment#environmental awareness#environment and health#environmental#environmental issues#environmental justice#environment protection#environmental health#Youtube
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Summary: Following the disappearance of his partner by The Web, The Archivist caught wind of a hasty ritual by The Corruption and attempts to stop it. When he sees spiders piling on the door, they know just where he is.
hi!! if you liked my piece with the moth!jon and web!martin, i think you’ll like this fic!! i made a small au and ive been viciously scribbling my ideas down in the past couple days HAHAH
this is the first time i’ve posted my work online so i really hope people enjoy it!!! :D<3
#tma#the magnus archives#martin blackwood#martin tma#web!martin#jonathan sims#mag pod#jonmartin#jon sims#moth!jon#monster!jon#the corruption#corruption avatar#tma oc#tma fic#the magnus archives fic
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Wait oh my god can you imagine creating something and pouring your heart and soul into it and having a fanbase and then seeing that they've written fanfic about it???? God I'd be floored honestly that's such a dream I'd be happy forever wow but also I'd be horrified at some of the horny stuff but overall it would be a hilarious and wonderful experience I think Jonny Sims was missing out on not reading any of the fics during the series like I get why but damn bro. I'd be in there like scrat from ice age in the nut heaven
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HEYYYY FINALLY RIGHT??? in this chapter you can expect:
BABY!!!!!!!
the epic highs and lows of new parenthood!
plot!?
i can’t stress this enough. babie :,)
[Click here to read on Ao3!]
#do it all anew#tma fic#the magnus archives fic#jmart fic#jonmartin fic#jmart#jonmartin#tma#the magnus archives#the mag pod#magnuspod#uhhhh that should be all the tags. anyway hope you enjoy
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[ID: A drawing of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from the Magnus Archives. Jon is a thin Persian person with grey-streaked curly black hair pulled into a bun, glasses, and various scars. They are wearing a pale purple jacket over a black turtleneck and black jeans. They have an ace ring on his right hand and a dangly pink earring. They are kissing Martin with their hand on his face and the other against his back while holding their cane. Martin is a fat Afro-Asian main with bleached white 4c textured hair that trails off into transparent fog. He has very light freckles, a gold earring, and fog coming from his eyes. He is wearing a cobalt blue sweater and dark grey pants. Martin is kissing Jon, holding their back with both hands. Martin is slightly transparent in the areas Jon is not touching.
The background is numerous pieces of grey paper filled with poems, sketches, or doodles and soft white fog around the whole piece. The text of the first image reads: 'Identical Words Against Different Time Frames by coulson-is-an-avenger' in a swirly handwritten font. The second image is the same, instead with the text, 'There is nothing in the world, beyond the grave or before it, that could have prepared Martin for how it feels to kiss Jonathan Sims. End ID/]
HI PALS so I'm obsessed with ghost kissy and EXTREMELY obsessed with @coulson-is-an-avenger 's fic 'Identical Words Against Different Time Frames!' So I couldn't NOT draw ghost kissy. Thank you to Mossy for being so patient while I asked for feedback on every aspect of this, your fic is a masterpiece!! 💖
#the magnus archives#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jonmartin#magnus archives#magnus pod#my art#mag#ao3#fic#fanfic#tma fanfic#jmart#tma#tma fanart#mag fanart#rusty quill#podcast fanart#ghost martin#the lonely#tma au#mag pod#magnus archives podcast#magnus archives fanart#literally loved adding all these details but I am. not a poet lmao#trans martin blackwood#martin k blackwood
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