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distortionswife · 6 months

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JonMartin fic: Together is always better

( Part 1 )

-- note before the fic: this is set after 159 but before the hell that is 160. SO SPOILERS FOR MAG 1-160 --

Together is always better.

" That's the thing, isn't it? Ever since that day... The day Jon came for me, the day Jon took me out of the lonely... Ever since then, we've just been happy.

And if I'm honest, I couldn't be happier. I'm glad we aren't in there anymore, in the institute... It feels so free. I've never seen Jon smile as much, he's so excited to move in with me and I feel the same!"

Martin smiled to himself, writing down his many thoughts in his journal, reminiscing on how everything was better now. He had to kill some time while Jon was getting to his cabin.

" Oh, I'm so excited... Jon doesn't know what i have planned for us but I just know he's going to love it! We'll sort out his stuff and settle him in... We'll drink something and then I'll take him to my favorite spot.

I have a backpack ready with everything we could need, including every little thing Jon can worry about; I have a notebook, first aid kit, one of those little fans for food, so that there can't get any bugs into his drink!

Oh I can't wait to write today down, to capture Polaroids of our day together... To hopefully capture that loving smile, the smile that makes me absolutely melt."

And suddenly the bell rang, it was Jon!

Martin had a moment of panic as he didn't know what to do, his hands up as he looked around quickly, closing the journal and putting it away. He yelled a quick "COMING!" before he bolted it for the door, looking as calm as can be.

Which wasn't calm at all, the sweetheart was a nervous wreck and it showed.

"H-Hey Jon! I wasn't expecting you this soon... N-Not that I mind! Gosh no!" Martin rambled, scratching the back of his head as Jon just smiled up at him.

"I'm happy to see you too, Martin..." Jon chuckled so sweetly, looking well taken care of for once. He did that as of late, since Martin seemed to like it. And if he could make Martin happy with those little things... Maybe it was worth it.

Martin let him in and helped carry some stuff to the bedroom. Jon surprisingly didn't have much, just a big suitcase with everything he held dear.

"Do you want anything to drink? Or do you want to unpack first? Anything is fine with me, so please tell me." Martin giggled a little, smiling at Jon, who just seemed at ease, for once.

Jon looked around for a moment, admiring the gentle and soft colored interior. The U-Shaped kitchen island, the white countertops with light blue cabinets, the metallic gray fridge, the microwave resting on top of one of the counters... How every cabinet held cups, plates, spices, drinks... He's never felt his at home before and it was... nice.

"Ah- Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment," Jon apologized with a hearty chuckle, "If you don't mind, I'd like to unpack first... It isn't much so I'll be done in a moment."

Martin nodded and brought Jon in for a hug, "I'll see you in a moment, then. I'll go brew the tea and coffee while you unpack."

Jon nodded at Martin, his gaze lingering for a moment as he noticed those tiny details he honestly has grown to love... The freckles on his cheeks or the way his glasses are never on straight.

But that gaze was soon broken, as Martin had let go of Jon to go make tea in the kitchen. And so, Jon set off to the master bedroom they now shared.

Once in there, he opened his big brown suitcase, seeing everything he had packed... Including his favorite photo. He knew how he hated that photo at the time... The very first photo of Jon and Martin together, on the very first work day. Elias had insisted that everyone took pictures together as it would make the team stronger or some workplace bonding type BS.

But... He cherished that photo now, smiling as he saw them still so young and... unharmed. Oh how he longed for those times, no worm scars, no paranoia and most importantly, no eye that was constantly watching and hungering for more.

But Jon didn't adore Martin back then, he wouldn't have what they have now... And that wasn't worth it. Some scars and trauma over Martin?

Martin was his reason for everything... He didn't think he'd still be here if it weren't for him..

But Jon shook off those many thoughts, just happy to finally be somewhere safe... somewhere he's happy. And Martin made him very happy.

Jon continued to unpack, various sweaters, blouses... Some of Martin's hoodies he had stolen... All put away in a second closet, it seemed Martin even did that... After all, the little note on the door said "I got you a closet of your own, so you don't have to panic which clothes are mine and which are yours <;3"

He bumped into the desk by accident, seeing a notebook fall out and looking curiously. Jon saw the words "Jon" and "surprise" and he just closed the book, he didn't wish to know it for once.

He trusted Martin, after all.

It wasn't long before Jon was done, walking to Martin with a gentle smile, he felt relaxed. Part of him wondered how long it would last.

Martin sat him down with a cup of oolong tea, just relaxing for a moment. The two joked a bit about how in the end, it was always going to be them, even if Jon hated him in the beginning.

It was almost time..

"Hey, uhm, Jon? I was wondering something, would you be interested in coming with me somewhere? It's just a beautiful spot I'd like to show you..." Martin spoke, trying to be as confident without leading Jon on to accidentally reveal what he had in mind.

"Oh? Well, I'd love to, actually... But do you have--" Jon started,

Martin immediately cut him off with a chuckle, "Yes, I have everything, including the first aid kit, the tape recorder and a notebook... I've got everything you could ever need, with me."

Jon laughed softly at that, "Well... I guess I'm ready to go then, please lead the way, Martin."

Oh how Jon wasn't used to this, but how he adored it... Martin knew him so well and for once, it wasn't a bad thing.

Martin got up from his seat and walked over to Jon, putting his hand out. Jon immediately took it as he got up, letting go and walking towards the front door.

Both put on their respective coats, it was quite chilly outside and neither of them were in the mood to get sick, even if it'd mean they could cozy up together.

Martin wasn't sure what level of intimacy Jon was comfortable with, of course he was never going to push him on it, that felt unnecessary and wouldn't be good on his part... So he waited until Jon told him or made the move. They hadn't even held hands yet...

Jon stood in front of Martin, noticing him drifting off again, that same misty look in his eyes. "Martin? Martin! Martin come back to me!"

Martin flinched lightly and blinked rapidly, "H-Huh? Oh- Was I drifting off in thought again..? My bad..."

Jon smiled in a reassuring way, taking a hold of Martin's hand, rubbing his thumb over it in an attempt to ease him. Although, both of them blushed very lightly at the gesture. "It's okay, don't worry... I've got you, I won't let you fall back into that place..."

Martin felt himself melt, his heart fluttering with such adoration for the paranoid man before him... He knew he had a heart, just because some eye made him monster-like, didn't mean he wasn't able to care anymore.

"Thank you"

"Of course."

And with that, they left the house, hands intertwined with a gentle almost cautious hold.

Martin lead the way, watching Jon for if he needed to slow down his speed. Whenever Martin got excited, he'd walk faster and talk faster, after all. Not that Jon minded, he always seemed to smile as Martin spoke, it'd fluster the boy whenever he did notice it.

The walk was nice and quiet, going over meadows and through the nearby forest, the lighting of the sun illuminating their path so beautifully and it almost felt... romantic. The golden glow of the low hanging sun, giving them enough warmth to not be too chilly, paired with the gentle rustling noises of leaves in the breeze... It was perfect.

Then they arrived near a big pen, where Martin's favorite cows stood. He let out an excited yelp and ran towards them, many of the cows going towards him as well.

Jon smiled at that alone, bringing out his own camera and taking a few pictures of Martin with the brown highland cows. Oh that smile... What did he do to deserve someone such as Martin?

"Jon! Jon! Come here!! Quick!!" Martin said, seeming even more excited than before.

And Jon, of course, walked over hastily, partially worried something was wrong, probably not reading Martin's tone correctly.

Martin pointed at a calf, it was fluffy and near it's mother.

"Remember that I told you about Bertha being pregnant a few months back? Well... it looks like she had her baby!" Martin explained, squeezing his hands as he held back the excitement that wanted to come out. He couldn't hold it back completely, so his arms waved back in forth in a flapping manner while he watched the new calf.

"That's really exciting, Martin! And it looks so well, too!" Jon replied, happy to see Martin in his true element.

Martin nodded very excitedly, watching as Bertha walked to him with the calf, almost as if to show him off. Martin reached out his hand after the mother gave him permission, the calf sniffed at Martin's hand before pressing his head into the hand.

Jon took a few more pictures, knowing Martin would want this moment captured nonetheless.

After a little more cuddling with the cows, they were back on their way, with Martin's promise that they were "almost there"

Their little walk ended in the beautiful flowery meadow, a beautiful sight of the setting sun and... A picnic cloth and basket..? Oh Martin really did have it all planned out.

Jon felt his own heart flutter a bit at the sight, sitting where Martin told him to, looking over everything in complete awe. Although his heart sank a bit when he felt that damned urge again, looking almost apologetically to his love. "Martin I-"

"No, no, don't worry! I expected it..." Martin smiled, putting down the tape recorder and the notebook with a pen, "I will be a little further away, you can see me if you want to... But wave to me when you're done!"

Jon nodded and watched him leave, before focusing on what kept him alive, recording another statement, about the ones who were once buried down here deep below... And the few that are still breathing.

Martin, in the meantime, was picking flowers, planting a flower seed wherever he picked them. He looked back at Jon, seeing his eyes glow once more, his back hunched.. "Good god Jon has TERRIBLE posture," he thought...

But while he waited, Martin turned the flowers into a flower crown, somehow knowing the dimensions of Jon's head perfectly. A mixture of blue and green flowers to symbolize the two of them.

He watched Jon while he made the statement, from afar so it wouldn't tire him out. Even like this, Martin found a way to adore him.

He waited and waited, how long was this statement? It's taking quite some time.. Oh-! He's done.

Martin giggled a little as he saw Jon waving in an almost exaggerated way, unsure if he'd see a tiny wave.

Either way, Martin made his way back to Jon, sitting on the other side of the picnic basket. He took out some Tupperware boxes with various foods, such as sandwiches and little deserts he had made... the canister with hot tea, some cups... Everything they could need.

"Oh Martin... Did you do all of this for us...?" Jon spoke, practically falling for Martin again.

"Yes! I wanted our first actual date type outing to be special... So... Everything is homemade... It's everything you like, that you told me, I mean... So please, enjoy it.. for me?" Martin explained, a big smile on his face as he offered Jon a cup of tea.

"Thank you... But before we continue this... I have something for you, Martin... And it may be cliche... But I like it." Jon chuckled a little nervously, grabbing something from his pocket and handing it to Martin. It was a small wrapped gift.

Once Martin opened it, it held a locket of some kind, a heart shaped locket with a photo of the two of them.

"I-I know it's nothing grand and as I said, cliche and maybe cheesy... But i wanted to give you something so I'd always be close to you... So you have something to look at if you miss me..." Jon explained, his cheeks red as he did. He was never the one for materialistic gifts, as he was quite bad at figuring out what someone would want as a gift.

Martin teared up, smiling oh so happily at Jon as he held it to his chest, "Oh Jon..."

Jon, however, didn't understand that this was a good type of crying. He immediately cupped Martin's face, his own expression filled with worry. "I-Is it too much? Does it remind you of something you don't like? I-I-I can bring it back and get you something else!"

Martin laughed softly, moving his hands to cup Jon's face as well, "Please don't... I love it..."

"Y-You do..? But- But you're crying!" Jon said feeling confused at the mixed reaction Martin gave off.

"It's a good type of crying, Jon... It's crying out of happiness... I really love it... Thank you." Martin spoke, his love for Jon evident in every way; in his voice, his eyes, his gentle hold.

"I love you, Martin.."

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And that's the end of part one.

I'd absolutely love to write more but I'm also very sick at the moment so I'm splitting up the story into two parts, I hope you don't mind!

The fluffiness is definitely continuing in part two <3

And sorry if it's a little short, once more, I'm sick so I write what I can! and do tell me if you liked it!

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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

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MAG 148 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.

ELIAS: (mumbling) "Here we go" (normal) Good evening, Detective." [BASIRA IMMEDIATELY ASSAULTS HIM.] ELIAS: "Ow!" That whispered "Here we go"...(btw in neither the fan transcript nor the official one) Was it just "ah yes, Basira is back" or was it "ok, Basira is fuming and I know what she wants to do, let's get this over with...". He says it later, Basira is becoming predictable. Also very satisfying sound, 10/10, only MAG 200 is even better.

ELIAS: "– I’ve – I’ve always thought that a man’s eating habits were his own private business –" [BASIRA STEPS CLOSER] BASIRA: "Mm-hm." ELIAS: (strained like he is being choked) "– but… I can see how maybe I should have mentioned it." [ELIAS CATCHES HIS BREATH] Holy shit, I either can't remember Basira choking him or I never caught it before. Fan transcript doesn’t mention any sounds in this (I added them here), official transcript only describes Elias answer as "conciliatory".

ELIAS: "Look, look – I’ve been doing this a long time now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Web, it’s that it plays its own game. All you can really do is hope it doesn’t get in the way of whatever your plan is. Because the Spider usually wins." We know that Elias finally saw his chance when Jon came to him already marked by the Web. And yeah, the Spider does win.

BASIRA: "You always call me “Detective.” Is that supposed to mean something?" ELIAS: "Honestly, I just like the way it sounds." In 159 episodes this is probably the only time he's clear about something and honest xD

JON: "I can’t believe you’ve been seeing him all this time." BASIRA: "Oh, yeah. That’s the terrible secret sabotaging the trust between us." Yeah, compared to others things, this does seem quite as big of a deal. Still, I think it's something that would have been worth mentioning. Since of a lot of relevant things happened because of this, that seemed like a dead end to them. That's suspicion. I saw an old post from 2019 some time ago, where someone said something like "The way the Dark ritual lead nowhere Jon's gonna kick off the Watcher's Crown by accident". Oops...

BASIRA: "Yeah. John, We’ve been over this. the key is to not force people to feed you their trauma. You know – just don’t do it?" Oh yeah, Nicotine is bad for you health? Just stop smoking. Easy. You're depressed? Just be more positive. Wow! /sarcasm

JON: "It’s not that simple." BASIRA: "No. It is. Or I put you down." Holy... Threatening to kill him... Wow. After she has watched Daisy for years and said nothing. She’s kind of extra aggressive on this day, first Elias, now this... Frustration?

BASIRA: "Daisy’s been managing." JON: "Daisy is… yeah. She’s managing." Daisy is fucking starving. Even if she hasn’t crossed into full Avatarhood (I think that happens after MAG 158...), Jon also was already dependent on statements in S3...

JON: "I have been meaning to ask: the tape, the one of the uh… my victim. You said Martin gave it to you." BASIRA: "Yeah." JON: "How was he? How did he look – was he – uh –" BASIRA: [interrupting; sounding slightly less harsh] "I don’t know. I didn’t see him. He just left it on my desk with a note." JON: "Oh. Right." BASIRA: "Yeah." JON: "Can I ask what it said?" BASIRA: "Um, yeah. It said, uh. “Talk to him”" JON: [harsh breathing/sobbing sounds] T_________T It’s been a while since we had a heartwrecking scene like this...

I'll be honest, I have no memory of this statement...

There is so much more rambling about their general situation and less things actually happening, I'm already losing track again...

"So he found the manual. More of a pamphlet, really. Can’t have been more than ten pages of A5 in the whole thing, yellowed and water-damaged. Well-used, though. Someone had even put their name in the front, like they were afraid people were gonna steal a manky instruction book." Oh hold on, is that a Leitner?

Sounds like this Sampson really got into I'm On Observation Duty XD

"He kept saying, 'what do we do with his eyes?'" So the cameras?

"'He won’t stop,' he said. 'We can’t get rid of his face.'" On the CRT screen, Sampson wouldn't stop looking at them I guess.

Aw man, that post statement scene. It seems like it did something at least cause he says he's (feeling) better. But it’s not as nutritious as a new statement. And he’s needing more and more of the old statements. That’s also a effect of (some?) addicting substances. Getting accustomed to smaller doses and needing more to get the same effect as before. This is the only thing, which makes it seem like an addiction and not a need to survive. Though there are some indications that Avatars do need to cause fear to survive. “Feed your god, or it will feed on you” (MAG 89), “Hopefully, he’ll fade away or burn out as they tend to when robbed of their purpose” (MAG 130), “John Amherst was encased in concrete, and shrivelled away to nothing after just a few years” (MAG 184). Accepting less and less of old statements is probably just an effect of the Eye to bring him to get new experiences. And since there are some indications that also written statements given to the Archivist can cause those dreams (Dekker MAG 113, Salesa MAG 115) it will become more and more difficult to survive without harming others.

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 148 #tma #tma spoilers

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birdsareflocking · 1 year

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A weird, rambling Magnus Archives essay

I have found a song that just encapsulates the s4 Jonmartin dynamic and I need to talk about it.

The Stops – Elbow

The song as a whole is from Jon’s perspective as he ruminates on his relationship with Martin while trying to save him from The Lonely, it’s a very melancholic song with the verses being very quiet and withdrawn and the chorus being a swell of orchestral music. It perfectly represents the mix of Jon’s quiet grief of losing Martin during the whole season and his desperation while trying to find him in The Lonely.

Verse one starts with the lyrics ‘I can’t undo the day, it won’t go, won’t go under the rug.’ This represents Jon’s monstrous guilt he carries round particularly the way he treated Martin in the first season, how his paranoia in the second season seemingly destroyed most of his relationships and also his realisation in MAG 159 where he says ‘I did this to him as much as you.’ He can never let that guilt go as he feels he is truly responsible for everything that happened. In Verse one again the lyrics ‘I pull out the stops, until you pull the plug’ to me this means that Jon will get Martin back by any means possible but Martin is trying sever himself from everyone, ‘Pull the plug’ could also relate to an ending or maybe even Jon dying like when Martin says to him ‘You died Jon’ as almost a finality, or at least that’s how Jon sees it. It’s almost a direct reversal to their season one dynamic.

The Pre-chorus starts off with ‘These are sober days’ Which can be seen as someone recovering from an addiction, this could relate to Jon’s need for statements which isn’t a direct relation but still relevant. The lyric ‘And I know it can’t be’ could be referring to the conversation Jon and Martin had where Martin has to tell Jon to ‘stop finding him.’ This could also relate to Peter Lukas’s taunting at him where he says ‘How much do you really know each other.’ Jon isn’t entirely sure whether this relationship even exists however the next lyric ‘But I’ll miss you the way, you miss the sea’ shows a counter to that point, the ‘but’ means he’s not ready to give up yet. To me this lyric is the most important lyric in the entire song it shows how messy their relationship is and how Martin could be truly lost in the Lonely. ‘You miss the sea’ relates to Martin in the Lonely as it is set on the seaside, Jon will ‘miss (him) the way (he) misses the sea’ talks to how comforting The Lonely can be like when Martin says ‘Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.’ and how there’s a sort of numb ache where it isn’t. It also relates to Jon’s own Loneliness and how he never realised how much he needed Martin until it was too late.

Throughout the chorus there’s a line ‘Don’t look down’ that repeats after every lyric and this relates to the moment in MAG 159 where Jon is pleading with Martin to stay, it reminds me of the line ‘But we need you. I need you.’ The first lyric of the chorus is ‘Keep staring like you’ve never seen the stars,’ which, in this context, reminds me of Jon’s line ‘I don’t just want to survive.’ Because in media the stars are normally meant to represent hope like Oscar Wilde’s quote ‘All of us are in the gutter but some of us are looking up at the stars.’ And so the ‘Keep staring’ is Jon trying to give hope to Martin to get him to stay, the ‘like you’ve never seen the stars.’ Is Jon telling him to keep searching for a reason just like how Martin became Jon’s reason. The second lyric ‘If you need me to remind you who you are.’ Immediately reminds me of Jon compelling Martin to ‘Tell me what you see.’ It’s very intimate but also hesitant the ‘If’ reminds me of Jon’s line in MAG 159 ‘I thought you might be lost.’ It gives Martin the choice to decide if he is lost or not, it’s the same thing for ‘If you need me to remind me who you are.’ It’s giving them the choice to decide if they need that or not. It’s Jon letting Martin know that he is here but not expecting anything of him, he will step down just like the line in the first verse ‘I pull out the stops, Until you pull the plug.’

The next line is ‘Little blossom there’s the shiniest soul, just behind those eyes.’ This line is talking about Martin and how he is there underneath all that Loneliness and he just needs to be Seen.

The second verse starts with ‘No longer my affair, well I can’t go there just yet.’ This, to me, is about how this is far bigger than just Jon and Martin but this doesn’t mean anything to Jon he just wants Martin to be safe. The next lyric is ‘So I’ve come to love and trust those friends, that are holding your net.’ This shows Jon’s character development from the distrustful, paranoid man he was in the earlier seasons to the more trusting man he becomes and he learns to lean on people, this includes leaving Daisy and Basira to protect the institute while he goes and saves Martin with barely any thought behind that decision.

The Pre-chorus starts with ‘Falling off used to mean, maybe grazing a knee.’ This line speaks to childhood innocence and alludes to the childhood stereotype of climbing trees, the idea of ‘falling off’ is something a lot bigger and more metaphorical, possibly intending that the speaker has failed in the relationship, in this context could mean the decrease in contact that they experienced during this time that Jon automatically assumes it was his fault entirely. This is coupled with ‘And I’ll miss you the way, you miss the sea.’ The ‘and’ shows that Jon is resigned to the fact that Martin is gone forever mostly because of Peter Lukas telling him it’s his fault that his friends are dead. Then the chorus comes back in full force like how Jon did saying ‘Or perhaps you could answer some questions.’ Taking the control to save Martin.

The next Pre-Chorus starts with ‘While I won’t second guess, what you’re thinking of me.’ This, to me, is directly related to the line ‘I really loved you, you know.’ That Martin says to Jon in MAG 159. Jon does not care what Martin thinks of him, he is going to save him no matter what. ‘I will miss you the way, you miss the sea.’ The lack of any ‘ands’ or ‘buts’ speaks to the finality of this lyric, it feels like Jon is accepting of the fact that they have both changed and while he will miss what could have been, it feels the same as Martin missing how he felt in the Lonely, a slightly comforting ache that spreads throughout your entire body. Then the chorus plays for the last time and the song ends on an optimistic note that Jon has saved Martin and while it might not be okay it will be one day.

The entire song is the story of MAG 159 and I have not stopped thinking about it. I apologise for the bad grammar and the fact that this 1000 word essay is on a subject I only care about. I am once again asking you to listen to Elbow, you will not regret it.

TL;DR: The Stops by Elbow is a perfect song for S4 Jonmartin and I will not shut up about it.

#the magnus archives #the magnus archives essay #jonmartin #tma jonathan sims #tma martin blackwood #teaholding #song analysis #i will not shut up about my special interest #elbow #Elbow the band #Elbow is very underrated #The Stops - Elbow

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thekisforkeats · 3 years

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Love Languages

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T probably for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set post-MAG 22, with a coda post-MAG 159. Everyone is ND and everyone is trans because that’s just how my personal S1 Archives gang rolls.

CWs: Mentions of ableism and Martin’s mother. I’d say canon-typical worms but the worms don’t really come up except in passing.

I do not know anything about BSL, so I did not try to describe the signs.

Summary: A love language is not just about how you best show love and affection; it is also about the ways you best receive love and affection. And so, for someone like Martin, who shows love by going out of his way to help others, someone going out of their way to help him, well. What better way for him to realize just how loved he is?

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The first time Martin went completely non-verbal after starting work in the Archives, it was the morning after giving Jon the statement about Jane Prentiss.

It wasn’t a surprising development, really. Martin didn’t go fully non-verbal that often, but when he did it was almost always a thing that started in the morning and lasted most of the day. Sometimes it wore off by the time he went to bed, sometimes it lasted until the next morning.

After his mother’s diagnosis, he’d been unable to speak for an entire week. That hadn’t gone over well--as much as his mother wanted him to be quiet, she didn’t like the “silent treatment,” as she called it.

Martin hated that she’d called it that, as though his non-verbal episodes were anything he did on purpose. Some days talking just felt like a chore; those days he could get by only forcing words out when he had to. But some days, the worst days, he just couldn’t talk. He could understand other people just fine, he could make noises, sometimes he could even hum. And he could definitely read and write. But speaking words, aloud? No. He could not speak, on these days, however much he may have wanted to.

As Martin grew older and learned more about himself, he learned words and reasons and coping mechanisms. He realized that some of the problem came from dysphoria and the longer he was on hormones the less often it happened. He realized that he was autistic (even if he never got diagnosed), and learned how to handle the episodes that still occurred. He took sign languages classes because it was a good and useful thing to know regardless, to be able to communicate with more people.

As many Deaf people had learned before Martin, he’d found himself in plenty of situations when nobody around him knew BSL, so he’d found a phone app that let him type out things he wanted to say and repeated them in a tinny, mechanical voice. Feminine, but he found it didn’t cause dysphoria; it wasn’t his voice. It was the app speaking for him, a robot lady translating his words.

Martin was fairly certain he was going to need the robot lady to speak for him today, and he was dreading the whole idea. The app got him a range of reactions from scorn to derision to faux sympathy. The last time he’d done so at work, the Institute library staff had regarded him with such pity that he’d called in sick the two other times it had happened since.

He’d woken early, because he was always awake fairly early, to ensure he looked presentable and got to work on time. He did not want Jonathan “Crisply Professional At All Times” Sims giving him that look again. The particular look that was “I highly disapprove of your sartorial choices but I’m not going to get into it right now because I have so very much else to do. Nonetheless, if I could fire you for what you’re wearing I would.”

Jon had a lot of looks. Martin fervently wished he could stop categorizing them; he very much disliked his boss, and very much wanted to stop thinking about Jon quite as much as he did.

Jon was attractive, that much Martin had noticed the first day he’d come in, with a jawline Martin would’ve loved to trace with his fingers, eyes sharp and deep and intelligent, salt-and-pepper hair that Martin would have tangled his fingers in gladly.

Except, of course, that Jon was also a prick who didn’t like Martin one bit and made that very clear. He’d put down on record that he thought Martin would “contribute nothing but delays.” Martin was not such a sucker for punishment that he would put up with someone who hated him just for a pretty face. The tiny potential blossom of a crush had been, well, crushed five seconds after it had poked its head above ground, by Jon’s declaration that he could dismiss Martin if he didn’t resolve the “dog situation” immediately.

Martin counted his lucky stars every day that Jon had not, in fact, dismissed him, despite having had to deal with a doggy mess. The luck was really in having Tim around, Martin figured; Jon actually seemed fond of Tim, and the other man had managed to smooth the entire situation over.

Martin had fallen asleep last night thinking about the new look Jon had given him yesterday: concerned. Truly, genuinely concerned, which had rather taken Martin aback. He’d been certain Jon wouldn’t believe him, would scoff and roll his eyes at the entire statement, and instead he’d just looked… concerned.

And then Jon had offered Martin the cot that he’d woken up in this morning.

It wasn’t the look of concern that had Martin non-verbal, though; of that he was certain. It was the stress of the last two weeks, and dumping out the statement yesterday, and all the whirl of figuring out how to live in the Archives. Jon’s insistence on going with him to pick up basics with a toothbrush at the convenience store, and then coming back to be sure he was okay. Jon finding clean sheets and discussing how he’d do his laundry. Jon had expensed clothing bought online to the Institute, including next-day shipping, because he’d “lost access to his flat and thus his wardrobe in the line of duty.” It had all been bewildering and overwhelming and it was no real surprise that Martin was in the state he found himself when he woke.

Martin had known as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It was just there, the feeling of nope can’t talk today. He’d pulled on his binder and the same clothing he’d worn the day before and then fumbled around for his phone. Which… he didn’t have. The damn worm-hive-lady had stolen it from him. Well, shit.

He managed to avoid having to figure out how to talk while he went out to get breakfast, just pointing at a scone in the display and smiling at the guy behind the counter as if he wasn’t secretly irritated by the price of everything in Chelsea. By the time Martin got back, Jon was already in his office, so thank God he’d avoided that awkward interaction. He went to make himself tea, and had his breakfast in the breakroom, and brushed his teeth, and then went to get started on…

Wait. He didn’t even know what they were working on right now.

Well, he wasn’t going to bother Jon about it; however nice he’d been last night it surely must have worn off by now, and Martin had no interest in summoning one of his boss’ looks this early in the morning. Normally he’d still be on his commute at this hour.

After a moment’s thought, he went to go see what they’d recorded in his absence, and soon had a stack of statements on his desk. They’d gotten through five statements in the two weeks he’d been gone. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Martin did contribute “nothing but delays.”

Pushing the thought aside, Martin focused on listening to the tapes, and was just finishing up listening to the second half of Father Edwin Burroughs’ statement when Tim came into the shared office the assistants used.

“Hey, you’re in early. You get the email?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Tim snorted. “Jon claims he’s got something to warn us about, something that ‘won’t parse properly through digital means.’” He rolled his eyes. “Which is Jon-speak for ‘it’s a weird thing and I don’t want to admit it’s a weird thing because I have to keep my skeptic hat on to preserve my self-image.”

Martin chuckled in solidarity, then gestured toward the door to Jon’s office, to indicate that’s where their boss was.

“Not coming?” Tim asked, his own eyebrow raised. When Martin shrugged, he said, “Well, I guess if you didn’t get the email…” Tim also shrugged, then said, “Guess I’d better get it over with. Wish me luck!”

Martin gave him a thumbs up.

When Sasha came in, Martin silently directed her to Jon’s office as well, then heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t had to explain being non-verbal at all yet, and it was already nine o’clock. Maybe if he was lucky, Jon would warn them off talking to him and he’d manage to make it the entire day without having to explain the whole “non-verbal” business to anyone he saw on a regular basis.

Alas, it was barely thirty minutes later that Tim and Sasha returned to talk to him, both wearing expressions of mingled concern and guilt. When they spoke it was a flood of the usual, expected platitudes:

“We’re so sorry!”

“We didn’t know!”

“Are you okay??”

And such like.

Martin shrugged and nodded and shook his head in all the right places, and evidently Jon had played them the tape of his statement so he didn’t have to explain it all again (thank God), and he thought maybe, maybe he could even figure out what statement they were working on right now if he just listened to their chatter after they were done with the niceties, but then…

Well. Then Timothy Stoker happened.

Which is to say, Tim actually looked at Martin, and said, “You’re being awfully quiet. You sure you’re okay?”

And then he and Sasha just… sat there, looking at him expectantly.

Martin sighed and reached for a piece of scrap paper and wrote, I’m autistic and sometimes I go non-verbal. Today’s one of those days, but I don’t have my phone anymore, so no communication app.

As he held up the paper so the others could read the words, Martin braced himself for the ensuing reactions. Pity, probably, like those in the Institute library, and he couldn’t even call in sick to avoid it; he’d rather have scorn and derision. At least those reactions were honest.

What he got from them was not pity, however, nor even scorn.

Sasha hummed. “Autism explains a lot, actually. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

Tim grinned and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Yeah, why didn’t you just say so? It’s fine, you’ve been through an ordeal. And so you know--you’re hardly the only neurodivergent in the Archives.”

Martin blinked at Tim, then wrote: Wait, what? Who…?

“Would you believe me if I said all of us?” Tim said with a grin. “I have ADD, Jon’s… well… he’s Jon, and as for Sasha…”

Sasha sighed in fond exasperation and cut in, “Tim…”

“I contend that you cannot be neurotypical, Ms. James. You fit in too well around here.”

“I am not admitting to anything on Institute property,” Sasha said with aplomb. “And you shouldn't have either, but here we are.” She looked at Martin. “If HR finds out and they give you any trouble, let us know and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Tim, in the meanwhile, pulled out his phone. “Here, go ahead and use mine for now, until your replacement gets here or whatever. What’s the app so I can install it for you?”

Martin’s jaw had dropped open. Tim having ADD made sense; what did he mean about Jon, though? And Sasha? And what did Sasha mean about HR? And… and why were they being so… nice? So… understanding? It wasn’t an act, or at least he didn’t think it was. They seemed… genuinely fine with it. Accepting, even.

It was the strangest thing Martin had experienced in a while, and that was including the worm-riddled woman who’d stood outside his door for two straight weeks.

From there the day just… went on as normal. Tim installed the app on the phone, Martin’s robot phone lady spoke for him, the three of them did their work, and everything was fine.

Until, of course, the nature of their work reared its ugly head. They were discussing the statement of Leanne Denikin, case #0051701, which they had yet to attach a pithy name to; hence the discussion. It had long since become standard practice to attach a name to the “weirder” statements, to make them easier to discuss. (Jon insisted on using the case numbers on tape still, which was annoying, given that was the only place he did that.)

Martin was reading through the statement, and he typed into Tim’s phone: What do you think of this bit? “Be still, for there is strange music.”

What came out of the phone’s speakers, however, was garbled static followed by high-pitched screeching that startled Martin so much he actually dropped the phone.

Jon was walking in just as this happened; he stopped in the doorway, blinking. “What on Earth was that?”

“Martin’s robot lady gave Tim’s phone an aneurysm, I think,” Sasha said, eyeing Martin as well.

Martin scrabbled on the floor for the phone, pulled up the app (which had crashed), and typed, I don’t know what happened!! I was just typing in something from one of the statements!

Jon frowned at him sharply. “What are you doing with Tim’s phone? Are you quite well?”

“No, Martin is not ‘quite well,’” Tim said. “Non-verbal for the day.”

Then Jon did something that stunned Martin: Jon signed at him, specifically, “Do you know sign language?” He spoke aloud as he said this, too, but also raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical tilt to his head to convey that he was asking a question.

Martin blinked rapidly, then signed back: “Yes, actually. But Tim and Sasha don’t.”

Jon nodded, then said aloud, along with signing, “Why are you non-verbal, exactly?”

“I have autism,” Martin signed. “Sometimes talking is overwhelming and sometimes, especially in stressful situations, I can’t talk at all. Woke up that way today. It should be gone by tomorrow morning.” Why was he explaining so much more to Jon than he had to the others? Maybe just because Jon knew sign, and thus could communicate in a language Martin found much easier than even the typing.

Jon frowned thoughtfully, then nodded again. Then, still speaking and signing both, “What were you typing into your phone?”

“Be still, for there is strange music. From the statement.” Martin gestured to the statement on his desk.

Jon’s frown deepened and he repeated the words. “‘Be still, for there is strange music….’” His expression went slack for a moment, and then he shook himself. “Right. Well. Just… just… I’ll be right back.” Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

Tim and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Then Sasha asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I forgot Jon knows BSL,” Tim replied thoughtfully. “Hard of hearing on one side. Not that he’d have agreed to interpret all day or anything.”

Martin shrugged. It’s alright, he typed. This works just fine.

“Well, no, obviously not for some things.” Jon had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared, holding a small brown notebook the size of Martin’s hand. “Here,” he said, thrusting the notebook at Martin. “This will work better, for communicating about the statements. You needn’t use it with me, of course, unless signing is also taxing.”

Martin stared up at Jon. There was an entirely new look on his boss’ face. Not any level of scorn or sneer, nor even concern. He was… nervous. Fidgety. Like he was offering a gift that he was afraid might be rejected.

Something went flip in Martin’s stomach and it was like the entire world turned upside down. Suddenly, in light of Jon’s actions in the last 24 hours, he saw the way his boss had acted toward him the last six months for what it was: a defense mechanism. Armor pulled up around someone fragile and soft and sweet, someone so terrified of rejection that he went about making sure it happened preemptively so he wouldn’t be hurt.

Martin had a sudden, fierce desire to hug Jon and tell him everything would be okay. It was so bewildering a sensation--he didn’t even like the man! At all!--that he just took the notebook with a nod and a signed “Thank you,” eyes still very wide.

Jon nodded in return. “You’re welcome.” He let out a breath, and seemed to relax a little. “Well. Then. I think we’ve found the name for this one, given the way Tim’s phone reacted to those words. ‘Strange Music’ it is.” He straightened himself. “Tim, you said something about the organ reminding you of articles you’ve read…?”

Tim nodded, expression suddenly serious. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can find them for you.”

“Right. Well, then, Sasha, if I could ask you to look through the Archive like we talked about? I’m certain we’ve had a statement from Jane Prentiss.” Jon then turned to Martin. “And if you wouldn’t mind helping me with ‘Schwarzwald?’ You used to work in the library, right?”

Martin was still staring at Jon in confusion, but nodded.

Jon actually smiled at him. Faintly. “Well, then, I’m certain you must know where to find the German history reference books, if you could go grab whatever they’ll let you bring down?”

The strangest thing about it was, Jon seemed sincere. Like he actually believed Martin did, indeed, know the library well enough to just… go up there and find the German history reference books. The faint, confident-in-his-assistant smile was a new look, at least directed at Martin; he’d seen Jon look at Tim and Sasha that way many times before.

Martin’s stomach was doing cartwheels. There were butterflies taking up residence in his intestines. His heart was pounding. How had he never noticed how nice Jon’s smile was? Soft and small, like he was afraid to let it actually take up residence on his face for too long.

Oh, God, oh, no. Martin could not fancy his boss. Jon hated him. Or, well, no, evidence suggested that perhaps Jon did not hate him, but Jon most certainly did not fancy him. This crush had to disappear, just as fast as it had come. This would not do.

He was going to be writing poetry again tonight, wasn’t he? Crap.

“Martin?” Jon’s tone was concerned rather than sharp, and the way Jon said his name made Martin want to sink into the floor.

Instead, he scribbled furiously in the notebook and held it up so all three of the others could see: Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about where that’d be. I’ll bring them down as soon as I find them.

Jon practically beamed at Martin’s use of the notebook and he nodded briskly. “Right! I’ll be in my office when you have the books, then.” He started to turn away.

Martin’s heart went pound pound pound because oh wow Jon was really cute when he let that smile take up more of his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a noise to get the other man’s attention.

Jon turned around, quirking a brow. “Yes, Martin?”

Martin signed, “Tea?” He, too, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to indicate the question.

Jon nodded. “Tea would be lovely, yes.” He smiled at Martin for a brief moment, and then suddenly looked flustered. He glared at them all. “Anyway,” he snapped in his ‘boss’ voice, the impact of which was ruined by the flush rising in his cheeks, “there’s still work to be done. So let’s… do it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office.

Had Jon blushed because Martin had offered him tea? Did Jon like his tea that much? Was Martin imagining things? He had to be imagining things. He put his head down on the desk and wrapped his arms over it so he could grab at handfuls of hair. What was happening to him?

Sasha tried to make her voice serious, but couldn't quite manage it past quite clearly holding back giggles. “Mourn for poor Martin, working alone with Jon.” She looked at Tim. “We should call HR preemptively, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Nah, I think Jon’s softening on our boy,” Tim said with a laugh. He reached over to ruffle Martin’s hair with one hand while he took his phone back with the other. “Don’t worry, Marto. I told you he’d come around one day.”

Martin looked up at Tim with a stricken, betrayed expression. In the notebook: Is this how you comfort me in my hour of need??

Sasha shook her head. “For once, Tim’s being serious. You weren’t in the room when Jon explained things to us. He’s worried about you, he doesn’t want you to have to leave the Institute alone, he doesn’t want you to have to look for the Prentiss statement in case it’s ‘too traumatic’ for you to run across on your own. He actually asked us if we thought we should avoid any mention of Prentiss altogether in your presence.”

“I told him no,” Tim said. “I hope that was okay. You seem like you’d rather deal with trauma by facing it and figuring it out, rather than avoiding it entirely.”

Matin gaped at them. Really? he wrote. Jon’s… worried about me? Really? As if he hadn’t seen the evidence just now that Jon was, indeed… softening.

Tim gave Martin a very serious look. “I’ve told you before… I’ve known Jon, well, not as long as I’ve known Sasha, but for a long while now. He’s prickly and thorny, even to people he cares about, but that’s a front and I’ve said so. You just didn’t believe me.”

“In Martin’s defense,” Sasha put in, “Jon’s been awfully ‘prickly and thorny’ to him specifically.”

Tim put up a hand. “Oh, I agree. I have had words with our dear boss about the way he treats Martin, largely because I’m one of the few people he might actually listen to.” He looked at Martin. “I don’t want to take the credit, because it’s really been a remarkably fast turnaround, but I’d like to think I helped, a little.”

Martin frowned thoughtfully. Thank you, he wrote. If Jon’s at ‘I can stand Martin’ instead of ‘Martin is the source of all bad that happens in the Archives’ work might be… better than tolerable, for once.

“That’s the spirit!” Tim said with a grin. “Now, then, Jon did say to get back to work…”

Jon gave Martin another of those soft smiles when Martin brought in the tea, a smile which widened on seeing the stack of books he carried in right after. That afternoon, spent sitting and going through books and discussing the Schwarzwald statement, was the first of many they’d spend together, reading and talking and comparing notes.

Martin was feeling verbal again the next morning, but he kept the notebook. If nothing else, it was a good place to jot down poetry. And it came in handy when he found himself unable to speak the morning after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Archives.

And the morning after Jon confronted him about his CV.

And the morning after Jon disappeared, leaving Jurgen Leitner’s body at his desk. (Martin blamed that on the corridors more than the body, really.)

Funnily enough, he didn’t need it the morning after the Unknowing. But he kept it with him that day all the same, the first gift Jon had ever given him, and one of the few things he had left of him with Jon in a coma.

--------------------------------------------

When they reached Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland, Martin had hoped he’d somehow manage to dodge the threat of going non-verbal. He’d been the one to drive the car, over Jon’s protests; it was something to focus on, to keep him remembering he was alive and real. He’d clutched the wheel and driven north north north with Jon giving directions in the passenger seat.

Martin had finally figured out that it was the chance to stop and think about trauma that led to his being non-verbal, which was why it was almost always a thing that hit in the morning. Adrenaline would keep him running after a stressful event, and then he’d carry himself through the rest of the day trying to clean up whatever mess had been caused. But sleep was enough for his body and brain to both tell him to stop, to process, to deal with whatever he’d run into.

It was possible, in hindsight, that he’d gone non-verbal more than once since the Unknowing and just hadn’t noticed because he’d been barely interacting with anyone. He’d certainly had a bad bout the morning after his mother’s funeral, dealing with so much misgendering and fake smiles. And there had been more than enough trauma to try to process in the past year, so it must have happened before.

He’d just really, really hoped it wouldn’t now, because he didn’t want to put Jon through that. (Why he thought he was putting Jon through anything he didn’t really want to examine. It made him feel Lonely, and that was bad.)

At any rate, the realization of why he went non-verbal had led to him keeping busy in order to hold it off, in order to hold himself together. So he drove, and he puttered about the cabin poking into cupboards, and he talked to Jon, and he talked to the shop lady in the village, and he brought back food and made dinner with Jon, and everything was good and fine.

And then he woke up the next morning, in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and he could not speak.

There was the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes cooking, and Martin made his bleary way out into the main room of the cabin and peered at Jon, already up and dressed and cooking.

His boyfriend turned to look at him and smiled, one of those soft smiles Martin had come to love so much. “Sleep well?”

"Not really,” Martin signed. “I mean…” He gestured at his throat.

Jon nodded. “I figured you might feel that way this morning. I, uhh… hold on a moment, I need to….” He grabbed the pan of bacon and moved it off the heat, pulled a pancake off the griddle and deposited it on a plate, then turned off the stove and went to poke around in one of the bags.

Martin chuckled fondly. “What’re you looking for?”

Jon was still digging through his bag. “When I was grabbing essentials at the store, back in London, I was thinking, you’ve been through a lot, and the notebook I gave you before must be full if you even have it anymore. I know you were writing poetry in it, and… oh, here we go.”

Jon came up with another small notebook. This one was not plain and brown, the way the first one he’d gifted Martin all those years ago had been. This one was black, and had silvery stars on its cover that, as Jon held out the book and thus tilted it through the light, shimmered into rainbows.

“Just in case, you know, the shop lady doesn’t know BSL.”

Martin blinked at the notebook.

“It, uhh… I know it’s not your usual style,” Jon said, his voice suddenly nervous. He was looking down at the notebook as he spoke, instead of at Martin. “Not… retro. But… I saw it and I thought of you.” He paused. “That tape, where you were talking to Simon Fairchild. He talked about the ‘cosmic scale,’ and how we’ve never even been alive on that time frame, and you said… what was it? You said, ‘I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.’ And I just… that was… maybe the most… it was very… you. And there were other options, flowers or cursive writing, o-or… I don’t know, they all seemed so obvious, but this…”

Jon swallowed, and finally looked up at Martin. “I thought, after the Lonely, you might like a reminder that, you have value. That… that to me, you shine as bright as any star.” And then he flushed, and Martin knew it was for him, just as he now knew the flushes about tea all those years ago had also been for him.

Martin was gaping. Oh. Oh. Jon… loved him. Which he’d known, intellectually, but the emotional knowledge of it hit him suddenly, took his breath away. He knew it, all at once, in that “oh we could spend the rest of our lives together” way he’d never really thought he’d ever feel.

Jon had clearly misinterpreted the expression; he started stammering, “I-if… it it’s bad, I can… well, no, I can’t take it back, stupid, I should’ve just grabbed the one that had--”

Martin cut him off by reaching out to take the notebook from Jon and reached out with his other hand to cup the shorter man’s cheek. He smiled, and because he’d realized long ago how well Jon responded to physical touch, he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Then he pulled back to put the notebook aside on the counter and signed, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

Jon smiled, both speaking and signing, “I love you, too.”

And for once in his life, Martin knew that to be true, and trusted that knowledge. He was loved. He had been loved, and he would be loved for the rest of his life, whatever state his voice was in.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #archives gang #otp: one way or another together #fanfic #my fanfic #ableism tw #jmart #canon tma fic

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

57 and/or 60 with Jmart? <3

i did 60 - Throwing Their Arms Around The Other Person, Holding Them Close While They Kiss

slight canon divergence, set in mag 159. cw for canon-typical lonely content

Martin is cold to the touch. Jon’s hands rest against his cheeks and they’re like ice, frost-bitten and coated in a fine layer of mist from the fog that surrounds them, a static haze that settles over him like a blanket. You’d be comfortable here, it says, wrapping him in something akin to a hug. You wouldn’t be afraid.

You’re wrong, he says in return. He is already so very, very afraid.

“Martin,” Jon says, rubbing his thumbs across the tops of Martin’s cheekbones, just underneath eyes glazed over with a dull white. “Martin, look at me.”

Martin looks, and it’s empty and cold and lifeless, and Jon’s stomach twists with a frantic anxiety. “Look at me and tell me what you see.”

Jon pours everything he has into Seeing—Seeing Martin’s desaturated jumper and snow-white curls, Seeing early afternoons spent at sandwich shops and Indian restaurants and pizza places, Seeing Martin’s hands cupping mugs of tea and wringing together nervously and fiddling with a pen, tongue just barely peeking out from between his lips. Jon Looks, searching for a hint of brown in Martin’s eyes, a flash of copper in his hair, a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He tries, with everything he has, to make Martin Know just how much he means to him. How much he matters and has been missed and is loved, deeply and fiercely and unwaveringly.

“I see…” Martin draws in a ragged breath, shuddering against Jon’s palms, and there—a lovely brown, creeping in next to Martin’s pupils and spreading into the misty white like paint in water. Jon doesn’t blink, doesn’t move—just Looks.

“I see you, Jon.” Martin’s voice trembles around the words, like they require great effort to speak. Jon’s breath hitches in his throat and he moves closer, tangling his pinkies in the soft curls just behind Martin’s ears. Martin lets out a shaky laugh, then another, a rosy pink spreading over his cheeks like watercolors. “I see you.”

His eyes are brown and his hair is streaked through with copper and he’s warm and solid beneath Jon’s hands and Jon can See him. A wave of relief so powerful it makes him dizzy sweeps over him, and he says breathlessly, “Martin.”

Martin’s breathing quickens, his eyes glistening with tears. He’s shaking, and Christ, Jon wants nothing more in this moment than to hug him tightly and bury his face in the crook of Martin’s neck and whisper that it’s all right. That he’s safe now and Jon’s here and Peter is dead and it’s all right. Then, Jon realizes that he can. That he no longer has to keep a careful distance between them, Watching Martin fade in and out of existence and hating every moment he doesn’t do something about it.

So he does. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Martin and fists his hands in the fabric of Martin’s jumper that covers his shoulder blades and squeezes tightly, pressing his forehead against Martin’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispers as Martin’s chest heaves with sobs and tears drip onto Jon’s hairline. “It’s okay.”

“I- I was on my own,” Martin gasps, his voice shattered and crumbling. “I was all on my own.”

Jon’s heart breaks, and he pulls back just enough that he can look into Martin’s eyes. He’s never been comfortable with direct eye contact, always looking just above or to the left or at the space in between. But still, he looks, and Martin’s gaze isn’t heavy and oppressive when he looks back, and Jon finds that he can’t tear free from the rich, sepia brown he finds there. “Not anymore,” he says firmly. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “I promise, Martin. Never.” He moves a hand from Martin’s back to the side of his face, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll be here. Always. As- as long as you’ll have me.”

Martin lets out a chuckle just shy of hysterical. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Jon says softly. He moves his hand slightly down and cups the curve of Martin’s jaw, fingers tracing the soft cartilage of his ear. Martin’s lips are flushed pink; Jon can’t stop looking at them. “I…” He swallows, just once, before saying decisively, “I love you.”

Martin’s eyes widen, and a startled gasp escapes his mouth. “You—what?”

Jon smiles, a bit wryly but warm all the same. “I love you. Have, er- have for quite some time, I believe.” He exhales, a quiet laugh. “How could I not?”

Martin’s mouth forms a soundless oh. Then, in halting motions, his lips pull into a smile as well, tentative and disbelieving. “You love me.”

“Yes, Martin, I believe I’ve made that quite clear.”

“Just wanted to say it out loud.” The words are cracked by another shuddering sob. “Christ, I was an idiot.”

Jon’s heart breaks. “No, Martin, you- you weren’t.”

Martin is shaking his head before Jon’s finished talking. “I- I thought I could protect you. I thought that if- if I stayed, kept Peter distracted, he- he wouldn’t come after you. And- Christ, and the Extinction, I really believed him—at, at least for a moment—and by the time I decided that I didn’t it was too late, I- I was already lost, so- so alone and Lonely and- and I never should have gone to him but I- I thought you—”

Martin breaks off with another sob and curls his hands into tight fists. “I thought I didn’t have anything left.”

Grief sweeps over Jon, so powerful it leaves him breathless, and he whispers, “I’m back. You have me. You- you have me, Martin, and you always will.”

Martin hiccups around tears. “I- I- Christ, I love you.” He giggles, an involuntary sound. “I love you.”

“Martin.” Jon’s thumb brushes against the corner of Martin’s bottom lip, and Martin’s breath stutters. “Can- can I…?”

He looks at Martin’s mouth, then back at Martin’s eyes. Looking too stunned for words, Martin just nods.

Jon moves his other hand to Martin’s face and stands on his tiptoes and kisses him. It’s a soft thing, closed-mouth and tender, but Jon presses closer, returning his hands to Martin’s back and pulling him as close as he can manage. Martin exhales against Jon’s mouth and settles his hands on the small of Jon’s back, bringing him closer still and squeezing tightly. Jon has never felt so safe.

It’s only when the chill of the fog begins to seep into Jon’s skin once again that he pulls back, pressing another kiss to Martin’s lips and nose and jaw as he does so before retreating entirely. He lets his hands slip from Martin’s back, and when Martin does so as well, Jon’s hand finds Martin’s and he grips it tightly, weaving their fingers together in a motion so comfortable it feels practiced. He offers Martin an affectionate smile and says, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Martin’s eyes skitter away from Jon’s face, taking in the wall of fog that surrounds them on all sides. He shivers, looks back at Jon hesitantly, and says, “How?”

Jon squeezes Martin’s hand, raises it to his lips, and lays a gentle kiss across his knuckles. “Don’t worry. I know the way.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #my writing #my fic

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joskippy · 3 years

Note

!!! ARCHIVIST MARTIN HEADCANONS PLS !!!

OHOHOH FELLA YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH HCS I HAVE FOR THIS AU

Literally all of this is going under a read more because I have this entire au mapped out in detail but basically I find the idea of Archivist!Martin very interesting because it's just changing one detail of the entire podcast and it completely alters the story.

(Under the read more is basically my entire idea for this au from season one to season four)

What happens in this au is that Elias hires and appoints Martin as head archivist because of the fact he was already deeply alligned with the lonely and was a interests of the webs. He lacked any real connection outside of the archives and was already of interest of two entities, he's basically a perfect candidate to become archivist. Tim, Sasha, and especially Jon are hesitant to be working under someone who they don't know and hold a slight grudge against Martin at the start for being obviously unqualifed for his job. Tim and Sasha, of course, immediately become more understanding when finding out about Martin's cv and just assuming he got unlucky and winded up with the role as the head archivist. Jon, on the other hand, still doesn't know about Martin's cv and continues holding the grudge against Martin.

Which leads us to season 1

In season one, Jon's opinion on Martin is "Oh lord this man I don't know is obviously unqualifed for his job and the role of archivist should've gone to my friend Sasha. I don't like this man but he is my boss so I will keep my mouth shut." Jon though, is still very passive agressive to Martin but is less of an ass to him in this au. Martin is very open about his opinion on statements and believes alot of them but similar to jon, will only record the ones that he knows have to be real. I still think Martin get's trapped in his flat by prentiss in this au, wanting to get more info for the case but not wanting to inconvenience any of his co-workers. While trapped in his flat, Jon takes over for him and records statements for Martin (Not in a "I want to impress my boss" matter but more of an "I'll show this twerp how it's really done") and realizes how much of toll it takes on him and how difficult the job is. When Martin comes back from his little worm adventure, Jon is much more nicer and understanding of him. Martin records what happened with him and prentiss and Jon offers him to stay in the little room he made for when he overstays at work. (Martin of course, is not happy with the fact Jon stays past work hours finishing up stuff but that doesnt matter). Y'know how the rest of s1 goes with the prentiss attack (Jon and Martin still share the heart to heart, Jon loses him and Tim in the tunnels) Jon finds Gertrude's body and it sparks his paranoia finding out she was shot to death and then we get to

Season 2

Jon's immediate assumption is that Martin killed Gertrude to get his job because like, he still doesn't know Martin well and then finds out this dude's predecessor got murdered so of course mr jon sims is going to go "oh so Martin for SURE murdered this lady." For the first half of the season, Jon pretends to be buddy buddy with Martin to see if anything's off with him and somewhere along the line Jon finds the noted Martin was writing to his mom in the trash and immediately assumes its about the murder. He catches Martin in his office and immediately corners Martin like "HEY I KNOW YOU KILLED GERTRUDE AND I GOT THE PROOF" and Martin just sighs and tells him about his cv and mother and Jon's opinion of Martin goes from "incompetent murderer who killed his predecessor to get his job and might kill me." to "highschool drop out whos just trying to make a living might end up being murdered too". With the not-sasha stuff it's sorta the same but Martin let's Jon in on some details of his suspicions on her. Martin get's framed for Jurgen's death and NOW WE ARE AT

Season 3

So since Martin obviously doesn't have a place to hide it at the start of season 3 so Jon offers him to stay at his place. Jon knows that Martin didn't kill Jurgen and is willing to take the risk of giving Martin a place to stay. Martin, of course, is hesitant but takes the offer because he's been crushing on Jon for the past forever and definitely will take his chances in staying in hot guy's flat. You know the shenanigans of s3 (Martin get's burned by Jude, kidnapped by Daisy, kipdnapped by Nikola) and FINALLY get's back into the archives to apologize to Jon for being gone from the flat for so long and apologizes again cause he's about to go off to america. Martin get's kidnapped again, comes back to london, and now it's time to stop an apocalypse! ( Before the unknowing happens, Jon and Martin share a heart to heart and confess that they both share feelings for another and get together the day before 118 happens then shit goes DOWN ). Martin of course, goes off to the unknowing and Jon stays behind at the archives to distract Elias. Elias tries and fails to use Jon's feelings for Martin against him, then switches to what happened with Georgie and the dead women walking incidents against him, pinning it on him because of his connection with the web. Martin stops the unknowing, Jon comes home to the empty apartment and gets the news that Martin is in a coma. (He immediately blames it on himself) and now it's time for

Season 4

Jon losing Martin right after realizing that they both love each other absolutely tears him apart. He moves flats and he begins to separate himself from the rest of the archives and works with peter. Martin wakes up from his coma without anyone by his side and is told the news to him about his mom right the day after. S4 basically goes the same with Martin seeing Jon again finally after the coma and goes to hug him and tell him how much he missed him but Jon just stares at him like he saw a ghost and leaves without saying a word to him. Alot of their interactions are sparse, usually with Martin trying to spark a convo with Jon resulting in usually no response or just a head shake as he scutters off. Then Martin finally is able to actually talk to Jon and tells him that he misses him and that maybe they could catch up sometime but Jon just laughs and tells him that hes busy. Martin later on finds out about how to cut off the connection with the eye and goes to tell Jon that they could leave the archives but Jon tells him that he can't and tells Martin he doesn't want to see him anymore and kicks Martin out his office. You know what happens in 158 and 159, it's basically the same and Jon and Martin settle down at the safehouse.

I don't have much for season 5 but I really like the idea that Martin is still optimistic even after the change and that he reassures Jon that he's gonna find a way to fix it when it reality he has no clue and it terrified to think about what is going to happpen to them. They don't stay in the cabin that long soon after since Martin is very eager to go to the pannopticon and ya! Yknow how it goes.

Im so sorry I wrote a whole essay worth of shit but this au means alot to me and i get very excited when people ask me about it!!

#jontalks #tma #archivist!martin #long post #asks #radiactive

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pitviperofdoom · 4 years

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so do you have any good tma/jonmartin fic recs because I need something to read while I wait for jon's moving castle and your swap au to update 👀

Oh hey, I haven’t done a proper fic rec list for TMA. So! Here goes.

First off, literally anything by @cirrus-grey. There’s a lot there, too varied for me to go into detail about, and it’s all fantastic, so just. Browse. I guarantee you’ll find lots of stuff to like. Special mentions go to Yesterday Is Here, a very lighthearted time travel fix-it fic, and A Matter of Diplomacy, a still-ongoing fantasy AU with Jon as a powerful Witch Lord and Martin as an inexperienced nobleman sent to ask him for aid in a coming war.

The Polish Fic by MadMaudlin. Not actually the title, but the title is in Polish and the fic heavily involves the Polish language so my discord friends and I call it the Polish Fic. We love it. Whenever we need to feel joy for whatever reason we’ll link it in the fic-recs thread again just to remind each other it exists. As far as I can tell it was written between Season 3 and 4, and that’s reflected in the character interactions, but all in all it’s very sweet. Complete.

Hold Tight, Fear Not, and We’ll See Through This Night by @ostentenacity. A Season 5 AU fic, largely written before Season 5 started airing. An apocalypse fic with a very hopeful ending and a surprising amount of soft moments in between all the horror. Complete.

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps. Another excellent time travel fix-it fic. The Archives gets a cat, the Web is actually pretty helpful, and everyone gets the Found Family storyline they deserve. Includes some fantastic supplemental stories, too. Complete.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles. Basically the most cathartic fic I’ve ever read, for no other reason than everyone in S4 is confronted with just how cruel and unfair they’re being to Jon, and reconciliations are had by all. Helen is the MVP while still being Helen. Complete.

fell in your opinion when i fell in love with you by Athina_Blaine. Just read this one today and it hurt me and then healed me. Season 1 era JonMartin, can’t tell if spooks are real or it’s a no-spook AU but it’s not that important I guess. Complete.

dustsceawung by @callmearcturus. Everyone and their grandma has recced this one but I guess I’ll hop on the bandwagon and say that it’s a fantastic fic, urban fantasy with a fae twist, featuring fae!Jon and kindhearted-but-clever mortal Martin. Still ongoing.

Illicio and the Two Sugars-verse by @that-one-girl-behind-you. I know you specified Jonmartin but listen, I love Jongerrymartin a lot and I’m going to make that everyone else’s problem. Two Sugars is a full no-spooky AU, and Illicio is an AU in which Gerard Keay is brought back to life by the Beholding and proceeds to bum-rush the Season 4 Archives armed with nothing but emotional intelligence and ink where his blood should be. Both still ongoing.

There Are Monsters In These Woods by DoilySpider. Another fantasy AU, this one more based in dark (and I do mean DARK) fairy tales. It starts off somewhat Beauty-and-the-Beast flavored but quickly takes on a life of its own. Jonmartin is central but the author promises poly romances in the future. Word of warning: this fic is guaranteed to make you want to wrap Jon in blankets with one hand and tear Jonah Magnus limb from limb with the other. Still ongoing.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea. Sort of a time travel fix it au, complicated by the fact that Jon got slingshotted so far back that he’s a child again, with his memories of the future apocalypse suppressed. But he’s still a fully realized Archive which catches Elias’s attention, and let me tell you Elias is hilariously unprepared to deal with an avatar child, much less an avatar child who is also Jonathan Sims at the age of eight. Do you want to see Elias repeatedly but also realistically dunked on by a third-grader? Read this fic. Still ongoing.

where there’s a will, we make a way by @bubonickitten. Time travel fix it au! Are you sensing a trend yet? After Martin’s unspecified death in the fearpocalypse, Jon finds a way to go back in time through the rift at Hill Top Road, but only makes it as far back as his coma. There’s not much more to say about it since it only started recently, but I’m very excited to see where this one goes.

thresholds also by @bubonickitten, two fics taking place in Season 3-ish. Basically Elias forces Jon to Know exactly what Mr. Spider did to his childhood bully, and Jon does not take it well. First fic is all hurt, second is more comfort when Martin helps him out of a panic and Jon opens up about his childhood encounter. Complete.

nor any more youth or age than there is now by Ravenesta. A gentle teacher!Jon fic, post-159, no apocalypse. Complete.

carry it with you if you want to survive by freudiancascade. Season 3 Jon&Gerry ghost friendship Pacific Northwest book-hunting ace buddy roadtrip. If that seems like a lot of concepts to pile into one fic, well, Jongerry friendship is fertile territory. This one’s beautifully written and hurt me in the best way possible. No clue if the author plans on continuing it, but I don’t mind too much because the single whopping 14k chapter feels complete on its own.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #fic recs #zannolin

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zykaben · 4 years

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Martin Blackwood Is Gonna Live Manifesto

Okay this is a thought I’ve had since the end of S4 but now I am pretty much absolutely certain of this.

Martin Blackwood will not die (or otherwise be neutralized in such a way that is equivalent to or worse than dying). My reasoning for this is largely based in meta more than like, canon signifiers so bear with me here.

First of all, I am making the assumption that Jonny Sims isn’t going to kill off the deuteragonist of his story without laying some goddamn groundwork and making it feel earned and fitting for Martin.

Why is that? I trust Jonny Sims as a writer to deliver satisfying and cathartic arcs for his characters. Beyond the fact that he’s outright stated he cares more about character arcs than he does being Mysterious and whatnot, he’s done a great job handling the death of some of the main cast. You could see Tim’s death coming from a mile away and he went out in a blaze killing the things that had killed his brother; it was tragic but it was fitting and earned. Peter’s death was so goddamn cathartic, you can’t tell me it wasn’t. Daisy’s death was tragic and harrowing but, again, it wasn’t cruel or anything. We could see it coming, knew it was going to happen, and it made me cry and it felt right.

So yeah, Martin’s end, if it were to happen, would have to be impactful and fitting for his arc.

Taking that into consideration, let’s look at ways Martin could satisfyingly die at this point in the narrative. I’m sure that people’s instant gut reaction is to go “oh, the Lonely! Obviously.” But the thing with that is if it was going to be the Lonely, it would have already happened. Jonny had the PERFECT chance in 159 to write Martin out of the story, have him lost to the Lonely forever. And then again in 170 when Jon literally asks Martin if he’d like to stay in that domain. So both the initial threat of the Lonely and the threat presented by relapse back into the Lonely have been addressed and shot down in turn. Martin getting Got by the Lonely in the back half of the final season after distancing himself from it again not even 10 episodes ago… it just doesn’t seem fitting.

“But Daisy relapsing,” you may point out, to which I will say that, firstly, Daisy was never pulled from the Hunt in the same way Martin was pulled from the Lonely–Daisy was cut off from the Hunt during her stint in the Coffin and from there worked to stop feeding the Hunt until the attack on the Institute where she jumped back into it. Meanwhile, Martin was confronted with love and care in the heart of the Lonely and was pulled out of it and, when the opportunity for relapse was presented, it didn’t come to fruition. Taking that (as well as the fact that I don’t think Jonny would basically write Daisy’s Arc again but with Martin) into account… yeah, I don’t think Martin is going to get Got by falling back in with the Lonely.

So the Lonely doesn’t really present a satisfying end to Martin. Okay, what’s next? How could Martin die win a satisfying way? Self-sacrifice comes to mind, dying for the greater good, going out in such a way to save Jon or the world at large. But considering that Martin’s entire arc in S4 was “hey self-sacrifice is Bad, actually” I don’t think Jonny is going to just walk back on that in the last 21 episodes of the podcast, especially considering I don’t think Martin’s arc is one about relapse, as stated earlier.

So dying for the cause and relapse into the Lonely are out. What does that leave us in terms of something that fits Martin’s arc? I… can’t really think of anything. Could he just be killed without any solid reason to prove the world is mean and unjust? I mean, yeah, but that doesn’t feel right either, nor is Martin’s arc set up to illustrate this point very well. It’d feel more like a “gotcha!” than an actual satisfying arc.

And, honestly, that doesn’t leave us with many other options. None that I can think of, at least. That doesn’t mean that he definitely won’t or can’t die, but if he does it’s gonna be MEANINGFUL and I can’t think of many ways to do that as of right now.

In my mind, it would be far more fitting, far more painful and satisfying and tragic, if Martin were to be the Sole Survivor. If he alone survives while everyone else is gone. And that would certainly play into Martin Not Being Okay. It’s not gonna be regressive either, I think the tone is gonna be "Everyone is gone and I am alone. But this is not the end. This hurts and I will grieve and I will live." He is alone but he is not Lonely. He has grown and changed and it hurts but he will live.

Of course, I don’t know for sure if that will even happen but… well. I think it’s far more plausible than him dying to an Entity or in service of Jon.

Also this doesn’t take into account everyone dying and them just wholesale not saving the world, Total Party Kill style. Which, obviously would throw this whole meta out the window but I can’t really predict for that and, again, there hasn’t been a whole lot of setup for it yet, so I’m going with this.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#zyka rambles #the magnus archives #tma #tma s5 #tma spoilers #mag 179 #Martin Blackwood #tma meta

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

Text

Shaky Hands- prompt fill

Okay so I did both, but this one is for Shaky Hands!

Cw nausea, vomiting (nothing gross tho, promise), panic (but not too explicit), references to disassociation, and Jon typical negative self talk and guilt. Set post 159! (Can be read as a sequel to my last fic if you like.)

Send me more prompts! (Bingo card by @celosiaa) The ones with stars are the ones I already have prompts for, the crossed out ones are the ones I have posted! Send me a character, a prompt, and tell me if you want an art or a fic!!!!!!

Here it goes:

Jon's knuckles are white against the steering wheel of Daisy's car. Martin is dozing next to him. Face slack, and slowly regaining some color. Very, very slowly.

Jon is tired. So so so so so so tired.

The tension in his jaw is giving him a headache. Then again, that could be any number of things. Could be the thick exhaustion sitting in his limbs. It could be the endless stretch of road in front of him and the endless stretch behind. Although that is what is currently trying to force his stomach up his throat.

He's Fine.

He grits his teeth harder. They don't have time to stop.

He would turn on the aircon, but he's worried about Martin. Would the cold be too much like the Lonely? Martin is still faintly shivering under the thick jumper he had donned after his shower back at his flat before they had left.

Wasn't driving supposed to Stop a person from getting carsick? Christ there had been a time where he had trained himself to read in the car. It had taken a while... and many errors much to the chagrin of his grandmother, but he had managed it.

Of course that didn't stop him from getting horrifically sick on that unfortunate "Team Archive" road trip and every time he was kidnapped. Daisy had not been happy. Jon shudders to think of it.

And now he's nauseous and sad. Brilliant. If he loses any self control, he will be a right bloody mess.

The again, if he's going to be dreadfully ill, might as well get it over with. Maybe he'll feel better? Optimistic. Why should he assume that he would be so lucky. He hasn't been lucky a day in his life.

He's lucky no one has caught them yet. Yet. That no one is following them yet. Yet.

Seven and a half hours. They are an hour in. It’s dark. How sure is he that no one is following them? Did he catch a glimpse of police lights? Or was that just his overtaxed eyes playing tricks on him, the flash of a dashboard light against his glasses? Was that a siren or the ringing in his ears. His breath coming hot and fast against anxiety and his unhappy stomach.

Breathe Jon.

In through the nose out through the mouth. Again. Again. Again. Don’t hold the breath. That will make it worse. Something that Jon found hard to fathom. How could he feel worse? No. Shouldn’t think like that. Anything could happen. A tire could blow out. Martin could fall out of the car. The engine could fall out of the car. He could be sick all over the windshield and he could crash them into a tree.

No. No. No.

If a tire goes flat, there is one in the boot. He Knows that.

Martin probably won’t fall out of the car. It’s no more likely than Jon falling out of the car. He tries to Know the odds to calm himself but all he gets is static and a worse headache for his trouble.

He doesn’t try to Know the odds of the engine falling out. A headache any worse would cause him to be ill immediately.

As for the last possibility. He won’t think about it. He’s fine. He is.

It’s raining now. Heavy sheets of the stuff batter the car. Or at least rattle it. Rattle Jon. Quaking hands on the wheel. His hands cramped and numb from his grip on the wheel. His arms sore from it. It’s been a long time since he drove. And he was never very good.

He’s thirsty. But putting anything in him sounds like a terrible idea. But being thirsty makes him feel so much worse.

Martin is still asleep. And Jon is just barely keeping it together for him. Barely. Martin needs to sleep. Jon needs to let him sleep. He tried to count trees earlier but with the rain and the dark he can’t manage that. He can hardly see the road and he suddenly Knows about the oils rising in the rainwater from the road and making it that much easier for Jon to slide them off the road and get them both killed. So close. So close to being safe. To being free.

His stomach lurches. Again. He swallows hard. Again. He can’t keep doing this.

The backs of his hands are tingling. It’s getting hard for him to measure his breaths.

He is honestly not sure if this is panic or nausea. Probably both. Because he’s on the run again. And this time he did actually legitimately kill someone. A though that further turns his stomach much as he absolutely doesn’t regret it. He was a horrible old bastard and he tried to take Martin. But what if Basira? Left to deal with his mess, that was his fault, right? The hunters here for him. Not-Sasha also after him. If it weren’t for him, Daisy wouldn’t... she....

He’s gasping for air. There are tears on his cheeks. And he’s pulled to the wrong side of the road, emptying his stomach. Door flung open. Rain soaking his jumper. Seatbelt digging into his shoulder.

It hurts and he’s crying harder.

And Martin’s hand is on his heaving back. His other hand gathering his tangled hair.

He shouldn’t have woken him. He should have pulled over and gotten out, but he’d been too sick. Too dizzy. Too tired.

Jon continues to gag. He is shivering. Rain running in rivulets down his spine. Martin probably also getting soaked. Martin who needs to stay warm and dry and not alone getting wet and cold and with only his miserable company. He sobs around his body trying to expel all of the nothing he’s eaten over the last few days.

“Oh. Oh, Jon.” Martin’s voice to gentle. It makes Jon sob harder.

Martin still rubbing his back. Martin leaving as far as he can over to Jon’s seat and Jon knows it can’t be comfortable. Jon doesn’t have the where with all to make any sound other than a pathetic whine.

“Jon, please are you alright? No that’s a stupid question, you’re clearly not. What can I do to help?”

Jon manages to swallow hard a few times and slowly tries to sit up. The seatbelt digging in harder as it did not appreciate the sudden yank to the side. He pulls the door closed, very much hoping he won’t need to open it again.

“‘M fine. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.” His voice is worse than wrecked. It’s hoarse and thick and damp. “We’ll be there soon.” They won’t. That starts a sob tearing through him. They need to keep going. They need to keep going. They’ve got to go before someone comes after them. Jon can lose his lack of lunch when they’re safe. And they aren’t safe and Martin isn’t safe. And Jon can’t make his miserable body do anything but be cold and wet and still impossibly queasy and shake. Shake with exhaustion, nausea, anxiety, cold.

“Jon, please talk to me?”

“Just carsick. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Jon starts the car again and Martin sputters weakly. Still cold and drained and Jon is just draining him further.

“Jon! You’re soaked! You’re sick! You’re shaking! Don’t you think any of those mean you shouldn’t be driving?”

Martin is probably right. There’s only one of those things he can fix. “I’ll. I’ll get a spare jumper, alright? But you shouldn’t be driving either. I’ll be fine. If I have to pull over a few more times… so be it. But honestly I’ll be worse if I’m not driving and looking at the road. And you... Martin I’m worried about you.” He doesn’t want to say that Martin has been disassociating when he isn’t sleeping, for fear of making Martin defensive, or worse losing him to where ever his brain goes when he’s like that. He doesn’t want to lose Martin to the fog or to himself.

Martin must know that’s he’s less fit to drive, or he would be arguing.

Jon wants Martin to go back to sleep. He also selfishly wants Martin to stay awake and keep rubbing his back when he’s ill. He wants Martin to hold his hand. He wants Martin to hold him until the shaking stops, the headache stops, the dizziness stops, until his stomach stops rolling, until he’s no longer afraid.

Selfish.

Useless.

Pathetic.

He stifles another sob as he sheds his jumper and fumble blindly behind him from another from his backpack.

He turns off the hazard lights and shakily gets them back in the road.

His head buzzes with headache. Worse now that he’s lost more liquid than he had to spare. And the motion of the car is making his head swim more and his stomach turn. Again.

Martin is handing him a water bottle. Martin is carefully wiping away his tears.

“Please, you’ve got to drink something.”

Jon whines. A truly embarrassing sound. He doesn’t want to. But he takes a couple very very measured sips.

“That’s very good. Thank you. It’s okay if we have to stop again, you know.”

Jon nods for unhappily. He doesn’t want to open his mouth to say they probably won’t have a choice.

Jon has to pull over several more times. Each time more painful than the last.

Shaking harder than ever before, Jon stops the car in front of a small, ...cute cabin. It’s mid morning. And Martin had commented several times on Jon’s claim that they would be there “soon.” It’s still sprinkling and Jon is caught between how the cabin is both increasingly Not Daisy and yet very very Daisy. He doesn’t have the energy to dwell on that, though. He takes slowly retrieves his bag and wavers the few steps towards the door. His hands shaking almost too much to find the key and unlock it.

His vision is darkening around the edges.

He flutters awake in Martin’s arms. They are on a bed Jon doesn’t recognize in a room Jon also doesn’t recognize. He’s sore and thirsty and dizzy and exhausted. His shoes have been removed and Martin is pressing him with more water.

“Sorry,” Jon manages to slur around sips that Martin is ferrying to his mouth.

“Shh. Water then we are getting some sleep. No more fainting.”

Jon doesn’t have energy to argue. He drinks his water, and presses himself against Martin with a sigh.

They can talk later.

#the magnus archives #fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma #cw nausea #cw vomit #emeto warning #cw panic #cw guilt #whump #motionsickness #words #my words #my writing #art #my art

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cuttoothed · 4 years

Text

I’ve seen a number of posts worrying that we haven’t yet heard Martin verbally express his feelings for Jon. He didn’t return Jon’s “I love you” in 161, and he didn’t affirm his own feelings in response to Jon’s “You’re my reason” in 167. Concerns have ranged from “Martin is an avatar of the Lonely and (un)intentionally isolating Jon to feed on him” to “Martin has been manipulated by the Web this whole time” to “Martin is a bad/abusive partner”.

I see where the worry comes from; verbal statements of romantic love are standard in media, and if we hear one character say “I love you” and the other not reciprocate, it can feel like a gap.

I don’t see a gap myself. There are many ways to express love and to receive love that don’t involve the words “I love you”, and I think Martin and Jon have a decent grip on each other’s way of communicating it. Not perfect⁠—they make mistakes and talk past each other⁠ at times—but pretty good for two people learning to be in a relationship while under an unbelievable level of external stress.

However I know a lot of people see this as Martin being detached from the relationship and worry that it’s out of character, so under the cut I’d like to discuss how in fact this is perfectly in character for him.

Martin...isn’t good at expressing his emotions. Yes, I know we all think Martin is the emotionally aware one, and he is in touch with his own feelings to a certain extent. But he’s never been good at saying them out loud.

He cares a lot about people, but he expresses this through caretaking⁠—bringing cups of tea and checking on their well-being⁠—rather than in words. It took the prospect of Jon dying in the Unknowing to hear Martin say “I need him to be okay”, and when we got a clear verbal expression of love in 159, it was safely couched in the past tense and the numbness of the Lonely.

He rarely even asks directly how someone is feeling. He tends to be circumspect; he expresses general concerns or asks sidelong questions, and waits for the other person to fill in their feelings about the situation. It’s an approach that makes sense for someone who grew up with an unpredictable parent; it gives a certain level of plausible deniability, if someone gets hostile towards you for questioning their emotional state.

We see this continuing into S5, as he does his best to check in on Jon’s well-being without directly asking about it. We got “How are you feeling today?” in the trailer, but since then it’s been “Are you listening to the tapes again?” (“Are you torturing yourself with guilt?”) and “Are we going to talk about it?” (“Why were you so upset back there?).

I’m confident that Jon understands this as Martin’s way of showing care; he’s been doing it for years, and Jon’s long since realized that it isn’t just “fussing”. But Jon isn’t great at interrogating his own feelings on command; he tends to ignore his emotional state up until he can’t anymore, which again makes sense considering how emotionally independent he had to be from a young age. So while Jon is receiving love in this way, he’s not able to engage with the questions in the way Martin wants him to, which makes Martin feel that he’s failing to care for Jon properly.

This is what leads to Martin’s frustration that Jon isn’t emotionally open in 167, even though he tells Martin he loves him and expresses fierce, protective devotion (“I won’t let it”). When Jon does finally open up about being ashamed, Martin’s own heightened emotions in that moment lead him to focus on the wrong thing; he reassures Jon that it’s fine to kill monsters who are hurting people, without realizing that Jon’s focus is on his own lack of suffering. They’re both trying to communicate, but they’re speaking slightly different languages. And that’s fine; they’re learning.

Martin not verbally expressing his love doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it, or that Jon doesn’t understand and receive it. We also aren’t privy to what happens when the tape recorder is off, and I consider it likely that Martin has told Jon he loves him (present tense), it just isn’t his main way of showing love.

However, for those who really want to hear Martin say the words “I love you”⁠—and I am one of those people, because I want a contrast to his wistful past tense in 159⁠—this season has really positive indications that he’s getting more comfortable with talking about his feelings.

As well as not using words to express his care for others, throughout the series Martin has also rarely expressed his negative emotions. He talks to the tapes about his feelings occasionally, particularly throughout S4, but he almost never opens up to others, and when he does, he’s dismissed (“This isn’t about you”). He vents his frustration about this in episode 118:

“So what? I don’t get to be angry? I don’t get to burn things? Just, just run around, making tea, while everyone else gets to actually have feelings?”

Yes, his outburst is intended to distract Elias, but that doesn’t mean the emotions behind it aren’t genuine.

This season, however, Martin’s shown an increasing level of comfort with telling Jon about his negative feelings. He expresses his discomfort about the world and Jon’s powers, while also being careful not to make Jon feel monstrous. While it may come across as flippant (“You’re being ominous again!”), it’s his way of saying “hey, this is making me uncomfortable” while making it clear that he isn’t afraid of Jon. He’s also very clearly and directly setting boundaries around how he is and isn’t willing to engage with Jon’s powers, but not vilifying him when he accidentally oversteps them.

Martin openly talking about his discomforts and boundaries is a big indicator of growth for him, and shows how much he trusts Jon and is comfortable in their relationship. For someone who grew up walking on eggshells, being able to say “no, actually, I don’t want that” is a massive sign of trust. And as he grows more comfortable expressing those emotions openly, it seems likely he’ll also become more comfortable with expressing his love and care openly, trusting that it won’t be rejected.

TL;DR Martin not expressing his emotions in words is par for the course, and he shows Jon he cares in ways that they both understand. But he’s getting better at saying his feelings out loud, which means we’ll probably hear an “I love you” at some point. He and Jon don’t communicate perfectly, they both make mistakes, but they’re learning together.

#the magnus archives #tma spoilers #tma 167 #tma meta #martin blackwood #jonmartin #tma

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ashes-in-a-jar · 4 years

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It Takes Two

This is a scene I imagine happened after Jon took Martin's hand to take him out of the Lonely in episode 159.

In this Jon realizes that leaving the Lonely is a two person job.

Cw: panic attack, lonely related spiraling thoughts.

"Come on. Let’s go home."

"How?"

"Don’t worry. I know the way."

They walked along the shore through the fog. Jon held on tightly to Martin's cold hand looking straight ahead, determined resolve pushing him forward. He will get both of them out of there, he will bring Martin back home.

Let's go home, he told Martin.

Suddenly the sentence floated back into his mind. Home? Why did he say that? What is home anymore? Who's home? Martin's apartment? The archives?

Jon suddenly realized that for a very long time now he hadn't had a place he actually could call home. He used to have an apartment which was a comfortable enough space but since he's run away to live with Georgie no place really felt like home. Somewhere that is his. A safe space of his own.

After the coma he had to find a new place but ended up staying more in the archives like the rest of the crew. But the archives weren't home. They were a prison. A constant reminder of his mistakes, his inhumanity, the people he let down, the danger in which he put himself and those around him. It was a place of walls and secrets, of resentment and regret. Other than rare occasions with Daisy and the others, he spent his time alone with his ever growing darker thoughts.

So what was home? Why did he say that?

Doesn't matter, he'll deal with that question later. He shook his head to clear it. First step is to get out of here.

Wait. Hang on. Where... Jon suddenly realized that whatever connection he felt, Knew, to the outside world was suddenly very faint, quickly disappearing. His moment of distracted contemplation of the melancholy meaning of home cost him whatever feeling he had of the way out. He lost it.

Muttering a curse under his breath he slowed down. Okay how did he find the way in the first place? He doesn't really remember, it was all instinctual. The process of killing Peter, finding Martin and snapping him out of his loneliness were all automatic, an ability for immediate action gifted to him by Beholding. The way out was the natural next step and his mind supplied him the Knowledge he needed for it. But now? It felt weak, unstable. He realized it was his thoughts that caused this. Every negative thought is amplified in this domain, builds on the suction this place creates to keep its victims in its clutches. His thoughts of having no home caused his connection with the outside to sever and his ties with the Lonely to strengthen. Once again he was to blame.

Think, Jon, think. What do you need to find the way again? You cannot let Martin down again. You can't afford to. What do you need to leave?

An anchor of course. He doubted the rib in his office would help. While it could have been effective for more physical domains like the Buried, this place is more mentally influenced. Even it's form isn't fixed. This version of the Lonely was designed by Peter who loved the sea and now that he's dead will probably transform according to the next avatar's preferences. It emulates a state of mind, a fear that is created and festers in your head.

So the anchor has to be mental. What could give him the pull he needs out? What is important to him? Martin. Martin is all he cares for right now. But Martin is here with him, cold and quiet and maybe not even that close to Jon to care enough. He did say Loved in past tense and Jon wasn't sure what he can even feel now after all these months of isolation.

What does he have left out there? No home, no friends who are close enough, no loved ones. Peter was right. He was alone.

All of these thoughts ran through his head in the seconds in which he slowed down. As the wind and the sound of the waves picked up he glanced back at Martin.

Martin was looking directly at him, creating immediate eye contact. Jon's mind supplied him with the Knowledge that Martin has not stopped looking directly at him since Jon's request to do so. As they moved forward through the muted landscape he looked only at Jon's back and nothing else.

"Jon?" he asked tentatively.

"Um, hang on just a moment, I, I need to get my bearings."

"Sure. Can I do anything to help?"

"No, no. Just, wait a minute."

Jon scanned his surroundings, his heart in his throat. Whatever feeling he still had of the way out was now long gone. He failed. Again.

All of his thoughts about what anchor he could possibly have ran through his mind in circles adding fuel to the growing haze rather than helping. He was no good. He had nothing out there. He can't help Martin. They will be stuck here and Martin will be sucked into the deep Lonely again. And it will be his fault.

He felt the waves growing louder in his ears, the fog growing thicker. It infiltrated his lungs with every sharp inhale he took, making it harder for him to breath properly.

He promised he knew the way out and he did before. Why can't he do it now? Why are they still on that beach? What is he doing wrong? Why does he keep messing things up? why can't he think? Come on Jon, think. Please. For Martin. You have to get out. Please.

But the harder it was to regain control of his thoughts and his lungs, the easier it was to sink into the conclusion that he had nothing. He can't get them out because he had nothing, no one. No real connections. He could have had it with Martin but now it's too late for that. He put him in danger. Again. They were right to leave him. All of them. He is a hazard, everything he touched ended up in a worse state. It's better for them all to deal with things without him. It's better for Martin without him.

He did not realize he was crying until suddenly he felt a soft hand wiping his face. He looked up. He was collapsed on the sandy wet ground shaking and breathing hard. His hand was still in Martin's other hand, clutched tightly. He was crouching next to him, close and worried.

Despite the proximity, Jon could hardly see Martin. The fog was growing thick and the tide was growing ever closer, threatening to overtake them. Through the haze in his mind, Jon Knew that no matter how far away from the sea they'll walk, it will always remain directly behind them. Reminding them there is no escape.

"Jon? Jon hey, hey it okay. You're okay. I'm here we're okay. Breath for me Jon." Martin's voice was so soft, so steady.

Jon stuttered "I, I, I'm s-so sorry. I, I can't find it. It w-was there, the way out and now it, it's gone. I'm s-sorry."

"Alright, it's alright. We'll find the way out together. Breath Jon. Follow my breathing." He began breathing slowly and gently squeezed Jon's hand. His hand was now warmer than Jon's.

Jon gulped a few breaths and slowly managed to emulate Martin's. His thoughts began to slow and he felt himself becoming more grounded. Martin's presence became the only thing in existence and Jon was hanging on to it like a drowning man.

"Jon you don't have to do this alone. You can ask for help. I can help you. We can help each other get out. Together. Okay?"

Jon forced himself to look in his eyes. Their hazel gleam was now brighter than before and it seemed to gradually dispel the fog still lingering between them.

Looking in his eyes felt like an anchor, grounding and reassuring. He doesn't have to be alone. He told Martin that himself only moments ago. It was Jon's turn to be assured of that. To recognize that the statement went both ways. If Martin wasn't alone anymore, neither was Jon. And his home was wherever their connection resided. Here with Martin. Anywhere else in the world with Martin. And looking in his eyes, Jon realized Martin feels the same.

"Okay Martin. I, I think I need h-help to find the way out. I don't think I can on my own." Asking for help outright felt so unnatural on his tongue. The words were awkward and made him cringe ever so slightly. But they had to be said.

Martin smiles slightly and the hand cradling his face moves to cup his jaw, thumb smoothly tracing his cheek.

"Jon. You're not on your own. We're helping help each other get out of here. We're doing it together. I've got you. Always."

Jon felt much warmer then. The roar of the waves had receded and the outlines of the landscape became sharper, clearer and more rooted in reality.

He let Martin help him up and leaned on him, drinking in his warmth.

They stayed that way as they began to walk. And Jon Knew once more the way out. Knew his anchor was the connection with Martin and their resolve to help each other in moments of hardship. The way out had nothing to do with distance and direction. It had to do with understanding. For a few minutes of terrible distress, Jon lost that understanding but now it's back. He knows where home is. Martin and he will reach it together, supporting each other.

And so, Jon and Martin leave the Lonely.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #Tma fic #Tma 159 #tma lonely #jonmartin fic #tw panic attack #long post #Had to repost because of mistakes needing to be fixed #My tma fic

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

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Heat Without Warmth, Light Without Sight

This fic is for the @tma-valentines-exchange and was written for @barnabasbennett (pretty sure, at least!) AO3 link is in the source! Based on the prompt: rewrite episode 159 to feature Tim and Archivist!Sasha.

I’ve been waiting SO LONG to post this! I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter One: Embers

The archives are quiet. So quiet. Sasha can hear the tick of the clock on her desk and the hum of the radiator she had brought in so many months ago, back when her biggest concern was how cold her Archivist office was. Before the idea of heat reminded her of Tim in oh-so-many painful ways.

The Unknowing had been…bad. Daisy had been imprisoned in The Choke, Sasha left unconscious and Basira forever changed. She had seen it, she told Sasha later, the way Tim had stood amidst the rubble of plastic mannequins and brick and mortar, unscathed as smoke billowed into the sky, silhouetted in greys and blacks. It was terrifying, she said, in a completely different way than the Unknowing had been. Basira described Tim as unstoppable in that moment, a train bulleting towards destruction and revenge, a rage in his eyes that only intensified when he saw the unconscious form of Sasha James, bruised and lying in the rubble.

In Sasha’s six-month coma, she had missed a lot. Martin had explained things to her; a sad compassion in his eyes as he stirred sugar into tea. Tim had fallen to the Desolation, The Cult of The Lightless Flame calling him home after they had heard about his sudden resilience to heat and flame. It made sense. Tim had experienced so much loss and destruction in his life, losing Danny and Jon (and, temporarily, Sasha) due to the machinations of The Stranger. His connection to the Desolation had probably been growing when none of them, not even Tim, had noticed. Sasha tried reaching out to him; Tim was still employed by the Magnus Institute after all, but he was sullen at his desk, the air around him smelling faintly of burnt hair and the iced coffees he used to love now simmering slightly in his mug. Sasha didn’t think he could’ve been any more withdrawn than he had been in the ramp up to stopping the Stranger. But here he was, prickly and cold and altogether uninterested in Sasha’s attempts to reconnect with him.

Sasha unfolds the letter, singed at the corners. She must have just missed him. Again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she reads the words, written the slanted, neat print she knew so well.

Sasha,

If nothing else, I will miss you. But that loss is essential, Jude says, to feeding the spark that binds us all. They think Agnes Montague’s spark passed to me when I decided my loss of life was more important than the survival of The Stranger and their ritual. Something about total commitment to pain, self-destruction, etc. There is some satisfaction in knowing how unhappy they are about it, especially Jude. I think she really wanted to be special. You’d hate her. Maybe it’s cliché, but I don’t think I’m coming back from this. It all began, and it all must end. Who knows? Maybe I’ll finally be able to quit.

I You are truly unforgettable, boss,

Tim.

Sasha had seen so many of the people she loved fall to the fears of this world in which they find themselves trapped. The loss of Jon had come first, when the thing that Was Certainly Not Jon had stolen him away under their noses. This discovery had come with the loss of the heart of their office: Martin. Realizing he had been in love with a lie had broken something in him, and while Sasha did her best to show him compassion, she couldn’t imagine going through it all in his place. The nature of Gertrude’s death had shocked her; Sasha had known her, had seen such a strong woman she had been. To see (or rather hear) her death reduced to a few cowardly gunshots felt…inadequate. Daisy had become softer after surviving the Buried, kinder to Sasha, but there the Hunt was still there, deep in her. Basira and Melanie were fine, but evasive, suspicious, too eager to wield a knife. And now?

Sasha had no friends, no one she could truly trust, no one left besides Tim. She hadn’t stopped trying to care for him, to make herself available, but she refused to keep her heart open for someone so clearly eager to move away from it all, even if that was motivated by a cult of fire and destruction and pain. But that love she had for Timothy Stoker was still there, the idiot who took her out for drinks and dressed up as her once for April Fool’s and had them all over for Guy Fawkes Day (should she had guessed it then, his eyes illuminated by the pyre, drinking in the light and heat of the flames?) and insisted he cook for everyone whenever he got the chance.

Eyes sweeping over the letter over and over, she read the words, trying to hear each of them in his voice, feeling something in her gut twist as she read her name is his handwriting, in his voice, over and over. Tim had said it so many ways: with mirth, frustration, exhaustion, and warmth. There was still so much left to say. There were so many more ways for him to say her name, and Sasha wanted to hear them all.

This letter? This would not be the last time he said her name. Sasha James, the Archivist, would make damn sure of that.

Sasha is hurrying through the Institute when she almost collides with Elias Bouchard. His hair is unkempt, shaggy from his time in prison, but he is dressed immaculately, black dress shirt rolled to his elbows and a tie that seemed to shimmer yellow-green when it catches the light.

“You-Elias, what the hell?” Sasha takes an involuntary step back, hand ghosting to the letter opener she had instinctively tucked into her waistband.

“Save the effort, Archivist. I’m only here to help, after all. My sources say Tim has left?”

“Sources?” Sasha spits the word, fingers resting against the mottled blue handle of the blade. “Please. There’s no need to hide what you are anymore, Elias.”

“Hmm, very well.” His fingers drum patiently on his jaw, one elbow elegantly balanced on the opposite wrist. He looks too calm, too relaxed for the anxiety and anger thrumming its way through Sasha’s chest. “So, you don’t want to know where he’s gone?” Fuck. Elias’s eyebrow arches expectantly, eyes staring past her as he focused on what she could now recognize as what she called the Knowledge.

“Elias Bouchard, t̶̡̟̲͓̩̜̣͕͇̟̱͉̹̽̋̑̑̅̊͒́̔̂͠ͅe̶̝͍̜̲̘̙̤̰̬̞͒͗l̴̛͕̜̟̟̰͑̿̎̎́͛͌̽̆͆̓̋̾l̴̟̤͚͉͔̼̄̈́̆̌̏̇͝ ̷͖̙̠͕̜̮̬̟̝̰̫͍̆ṁ̶̨̗̮͍̖͍͖̱̟̍̽͜͝e̴̗̩͒̈́͛̊̽́̿ ̷̧̨̡̦̻̙͎̬̪̞͕͙͖̓͂͂͂͂̊̔̊̕̚͜w̴͈̖̦̒̾̀̽͑̓̑̎̂̇͗̂͒ḩ̸̩̺͎̤̳̰̘̱̣̍ę̵̫͚̖́̇͜r̷̢̘͍̣͚̠͚̫̦̭͌ͅͅͅẻ̵͓͖̆̀̒ ̵͇͕̱̬̻̖͔̲͇͇͊̓͊́̽̍̋̓̈́̎̿̆̕͘͝h̷̨̡̧̨̻̝̲̱̬̻͙̻͋́͒̈͆͛͛̒͂̉̈́̎͜e̴̡̪͓̘̳͇͙̪̠̳͈͔̳͕͗̓̉̎ ̵̢̡̟͍̬͖͔͎̹͇̞͗̓́́i̶̲̬̰͙̖̘̮̠̘̜̙̗̍̈́̀̌̔͌̊͋́̍͌̑̚͝s̶̞̱̥͚̽̔̏͠͝.”

Her voice echoes with persuasion, the smooth words rolling off her tongue before she could consider it. Elias sighs, seeming almost tired with her. “He’s in the Desolation.” Elias sighs, seeming almost tired with her. “Honestly, Sasha, I would have told you without you needing to ask like that.”

She tunes him out, her own Knowing searching for Tim and landing her only with a burning inside her skull. She hisses her pain through her teeth and focuses back on Elias, who seems almost amused.

God, what a bastard. “Ȟ̶̡̱͈̖̱̱̱̤̮̖̳̬̆̿͐͛̾́͗͠͝͝ͅͅo̷̡͎̙̓͗̋̂͊̏̏̅̚͘͝ẅ̶̢̨̧̝̖͚̦̱̟̹̼͕͌͌͌̋̒̆͑̈́̓͛͠ ̶̱̩̜̖̫̼̰̐d̴̢͈͍̗̱̀̉̽͋o̷̢̡̫͈̼̺̹̩̥͕͕͘̕ ̵̢̭̦͍̬͖̪̹͍̬̝͝I̶͕̥̱̤̽̿̃̃̂͐̔͒̒̇̆͗̚̕ ̴̛̞̜̘̥͓̙̗̫̰̙̼̝̀͗͋̊́̕ḡ̴͈͈̗̜̦̇͐̏̿̾̅́̆̎̂̊̕͠e̷̡̡̲̘̞̟̤̗͓̺̱̣̘͐̆̈́̔̎̃͋́ṯ̶̨̺̜̪̺̼̼̟̽̽̍̾̊́͊́̒̕͘ ̵̢͔̟͈̘͚̫̩̭͑̃͘ͅt̸̪̊͛̽̀͒h̴̘̫̖̤̜͕̻̺̯̼̦̟͔̋̍̋̈̌̃͐̈́̍̋e̶̢̛͚͉͕͓̪̖̘͖͇͇̫̲͉̐̀̈́̋̄̃̆̽̃̍͊̓ͅr̵̨͍͖̜͕͈̱̤̤̭͈̳̯̜͈̆͒̾̎̓̓̀̐̈̀̂̉̕͠e̴̦̱̺͓̝͕̥͔̮̓͐͛̚?̸̛̝̞̦͈̿͐͌̂̌̆͂̆̔̋͗͒̊��”

“Honestly, Sasha, you’re wearing yourself out. Timothy and Jude just left. They were in the library; I’m sure you can follow them. Let your mind follow theirs. Find the right string, if the Mother will pardon my analogy, and pull it. I’m sure they left the door open for you.” He winks, as if enjoying a private joke, and turns on a polished leather shoe, striding towards the Archives with purpose.

Sasha redirects her course and hurries to the library. Is this a trap? Almost definitely. But honestly, she doesn’t care. Rosie, head of the institute while Elias had been “previously occupied," had been the last to leave the Institute, Sasha Knew as she ran, clocking out at 18:02. The librarians and assistants were gone. It was just her. Well, she and Elias, certainly. She was already a pawn in this fourteen-way game of chess; she may as well take down some bishops if this was going to be her end. She has never met Jude Perry, but Tim was right about one thing: she certainly already hated her.

In the library, Sasha halts in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her. The heat is excruciating on her cheeks as she sees a blazed trail of singed books, paper, and manuscripts. The burning in her face and soul is caused not by any fire, but by the sheer anger that someone dared mar her memories of this library, where she had met so many of the people she loves. Loved. No, loves, she decided with certainty. Jon is gone, the true memory of him lost to everything but the errant polaroid, Martin is all but gone, a shell of the warm man they had known, and Tim is just out of reach. But despite all this, maybe in sheer spite of everything they’ve been through, Sasha still present-tense loves each of them.

It is that love, she thinks, that guides her now, more so than the omniscient Eye that paves her way to the Desolation, the scar on reality widening and opening for her before it swallows her whole, the library crumbling into ash around her.

One way or another, she was going to end this.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #tma valentines exchange 2021 #timsasha #archivist sasha #desolation tim #fanfic #sasha james #tim stoker #fanfic to a tea

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

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oddly specific memories i have of listening to tma

in honor of the finale, and because i am a sentimental asshole, i bring you this potentially uninteresting and completely pointless list. i'm gonna miss this show a lot

half my original reasoning for listening to the podcast was to motivate me to walk on the treadmill. this did not work. but i did it the first time, when i was going through the trailers and anglerfish, and i remember the room where my dad keeps the treadmill is really dark and the spooky chanting sort of freaked me out

after the treadmill, i ended up listening to the bulk of the first four episodes on the couch, and halfway through i let my oldest cat, winnie, who always lived outside (i know, i was very against actually keeping her outside) in the house. and she jumped up on the couch with me, which she literally never did. (she was very grumpy and not super affectionate.) i had that cat since i was five, and she passed last june, and i really miss her. quarantine kind of gave us the opportunity to hang out with her a lot, because we were home so much. so i'm glad these memories are kind of intersected in my mind. (below: a pic i have from that day.)

my friend sarah relistened along with me the first time around, which was extraordinarily sweet of her, and also led to some interesting interactions. for example: she forgot when it was revealed that sasha was dead, so she accidentally spoiled that for me when i asked when the others would find sasha (and i spent all of season 2 just like. anxiously vibrating over this fact). she also made this post, when i was still in like early first half of season 1, and my immediate thought was "oh no martin is dead." i hadnt even MET martin at this point

back in early quarantine, my mom had this rule that we had to do something new every day (to keep away the depression... ha ha). anyways, all i wanted to do in my free time was sit around and listen to tma (and also watch this show i was into on netflix), so i came up with some lame excuses, one of which was "i'll give myself a pedicure." this led to the memory i ultimately associate with mag 56 (trevor herbert 2) being me sitting out on our roof balcony thing, giving myself a horrendous pedicure

another time, my family wanted to go play tennis, and they brought me along and brought a hammock for me to lay in. there was this excess material from the hammock, and the sun was in my eyes, so i ended up pulling it up and over me to block the sun and creating this ridiculous hammock cocoon thing. one of the episodes i listened to that day? "tucked in."

before i ever started the show, my friend sarah stayed with me while i was pet sitting. i remember when she got there, she'd just listened to 150 and was telling me how freaky it was (she was still trying to get me into the show), and she was like "of course we're staying on a CUL DE SAC." (that was also the weekend she watched us for the first time and was very upset because i slept through the whole thing, which is scary when you're staying somewhere by yourselves.) anyways, i spent the whole show waiting for the scary cul de sac episode

while i was listening to the show for the first time, my step-dad (an artist) started painting an EYE on the door downstairs near my bathroom. a fucking EYE. he didn't finish it til i had finished the show. but still weird!!

i binged like 12 episodes in one day to finish season 4, which is not impressive at all, but it's still my personal record. i just remember staying up late in my dark bedroom (til like.... 11 i'm lame and i go to bed early), listening to like 158 & 159 & 160 and just being knocked on my ass by how good it all was... i was SUPER spoiled by this point, through my own fault, and i knew exactly what was coming, but actually experiencing it was nuts

the second week i listened live was 167, where the public release was delayed by a couple hours by accident. i spent like 20 minutes refreshing spotify, thinking it was broken, before going on tumblr and seeing what the deal was. (and 167 remains one of my favorites of s5 because i remember just going "thank god it was worth the wait.")

this one car ride where sarah and i made some of our friends listen to the first three episodes of the show. it was the middle of the night and we were just like blasting down i40 listening to anglerfish and do not open etc

the night the what the ghost episode publicly dropped was the night after my graduation, and i was sleeping out on the couch in the living room so my grandfather could sleep in a bed. it was super dark, and i am a jumpy person, and i Remember being mildly disgusted with myself because the corny sound effects were actually freaking me out. (i think i mightve actually seen something weird that night, maybe, but that's another story.)

the weekend my parents moved me into college, we couldn't get the cable in the house we were staying in, and we were all sitting around doing nothing, so i jokingly suggested starting tma with them, and they were like ok grace. my step-dad promptly fell asleep and my mom zoned out -- which is probably good, she doesn't like horror and she's super claustrophobic, so it's probably better we never got to do not open

my brief roommate in college talked about how she was into those youtube channels where people just read scary stories, so of course i was like try tma out. so she listened to the first episode on her own, and we were out one night, and she started mag 02 while i went into an ice cream place. she was into it (she kept being like open it, ya pussy) and wanted to keep listening while we went home, and even back in our room. i had only been in town for a couple weeks, and barely knew my way around, but i also didn't want to turn the gps on and be interrupted every five seconds. so i tried to find our way back on my own. it took the entirety of mag 03, and into mag 04, before i did it. so now i will forever associate across the street with all those wrong turns i took in a dark, semi unfamiliar city, trying to get back to our college without a gps

the day of the early drop for 179 was the day i moved back home from college -- a five hour drive by myself. i ended up listening to it on the final stretch of the trip, when i was super tired and it was dark and i knew it'd probably be a crazy episode. just me full blasting down i40, drinking an energy drink (which i never do) through a hole punched in the top, listening to daisy's death

186 early dropped the day after initial u.s. election day (when we still didn't know anything). my mom had set up a "watch party" in the living room with these giant air mattresses, and we all sort of spent the day crowded around the TV watching the numbers. not much of a memory, but i remember sitting on that air mattress and listening to martin's monologue in the midst of that messy week

i had a virtual therapy appointment on the day of 187's early drop, and my dad was home, so i drove to an empty parking lot to do the session in some privacy. i was trying to listen to the episode before the session started, so i ended up listening to the last half sitting in my car, in the pouring rain, just staring at my radio in shock (187 remains one of my favorite s5 episodes)

my friend sarah had just come home for winter break the day 189 dropped, and we decided to listen together, just like driving around in circles drinking coffee and listening and speculating on whether or not that was really martin

i started my relisten right after thanksgiving and was just kind of blowing through fast as i could through the whole of december. i had to go back to college to empty out my dorm, and i went to the beach after, and i ended up listening to mag 11 while just like walking around in circles in the tide pools. the closer it got to christmas, the more christmassy i wanted to keep things, so i would like. listen in the mornings and turn on one of those Netflix fireplaces and get all cozy

my other friend went with me on a mini bagel road trip in december, and he was still trying to get caught up, so we listened to mag 169, 170, and 171 on the drive home. (by this point, i was accustomed enough to s5 and smiting scenes to automatically reach for the volume controls when jude perry and jared hopworth died.)

when i relistened to mag 47, i was sitting with my cat beezus. i paused the episode to write this big long meta, so i was in a different headspace when i pressed play again. jon immediately yelled for sasha and i immediately jumped, and beezus gave me a searing glare and just got up and left

i relistened to piecemeal while i was cooking, which i thought was kind of funny and also disgusting

after christmas, i got into the habit of bringing my cat georgia into my room in the mornings, and she'd crawl under the covers with me while i listened to tma

one story i've always liked to tell from my first listen is how when i first listened to the meat arm grinder episode, my dad asked me to help him cook hamburgers later that day and explained how hamburgers are ground up (to my disgust). i hit meat grinder in my relisten and um. you'll never fucking guess what i made for lunch that day

so i had all these arbitrary rules for myself when i started tma last april, and i've broken like all of them. i started listening to tma while virtually working -- you just pull it up on your computer and it works. (i got the life scared out of me when one of my coworkers started talking over the podcast, wondering who it was that had walked into jon's office and why he wasn't reacting and why i didn't remember it.) i also started listening a lot while driving, which led to several long meta posts i wrote being typed up in a parking lot somewhere

i spent the entirety of 194 anxious-cuddling georgia. (i tried to do this for 198 and then didn't have any anxiety to cuddle her over.) i fully plan on doing this for 200, where i am sure i will need it again

my favorite place to listen to tma probably ended up being the roof room at my mom's, and unless something goes awry, this is where i will listen to the finale. (with georgia, of course.)

this list is super uninteresting, like i said, but here it is. i'm gonna miss this show a lot. i can't wait to return to it, later in life, and make all new listening memories in the process

#the magnus archives #personal #food mention tw #pet death tw

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arce-elliot · 3 years

Text

Magnus Archives - First Impressions (151-175)

We’re almost there, gang. Out of the Lonely and into the Eyepocalypse we go! Blah blah I had 75% of the series spoiled and am jotting down my thoughts, you know the drill.

EP 151 (Big Picture): - OH SIMON??? - okay okay Simon's kinda funny, you go you funky little sky grandpa - Martin Tell Her The TRUTH EP 152 (A Gravedigger's Envy): - oooh another ancient one - hey that's terrifying wtf - can someone please comfort jonny boy good lord EP 153 (Love Bombing): - Idk why the cult ones freak me out, maybe because cults are real? - oh god what's gonna happen to that dog - I literally just made my dinner with white wine vinegar that's a little old are you sHITTING ME - GIRL GET OUT OF THERE WHILE YOU HAVE A CHANCE YOU KNOW SOMETHING'S OFF - AYYY THE HUNTIN' GANG - tbh it was weird that they helped him even though they knew he wasn't human actually - DAISY!!!!! - Jon can you chill w/ the sass if you're not gonna help - Okay I'm gay but Daisy Growl Hot - Two dying monsters trying to reconcile their humanity, this is sad I hate it here EP 154 (Bloody Mary): - oh god it's This Episode I've been dreading it poor Eric - g o d Gertrude sounds so upset - I would die for Eric - "Eric I'm gonna count to ten and you're gonna tELL ME HOW YOU QUIT" - I'm already crying good god - "he needed me" o w - MARTIN GOT TO SAY FUCK!!!!! - O U C H - i am so upset FUCK this podcast - the catalogue of the dead is just the Delano-Keay family album EP 155 (Cost of Living): - CALL HER OUT JON - Tova, to this doctor's heart: it's free real estate - A FUCKING C H I L D?????? - ah yes, some more DIY surgery, who needs doctors when you have knives? EP 156 (Reflection): - ayyyy adelard how are ya - oh fun flesh time - oh? extinction? - also that was gross what the fuck - M A R T I N EP 157 (Rotten Core): - go save Martin before I cry - ADELARD!!! - ah no, I'm gonna miss this dude he was kinda cool - this hits different in corona times - okay this is actually pretty gross wtf - Martin's lonely because he chose to be, Jon is lonely because everyone hates him, poetic cinema EP 158 (Panopticon): - Ah Shit Here We Fucking Go - OH WHAT THE FUCK NOT!SASHA???? - AYYYYY THERE'S JONAH MAGNUS WELCOME HOME RAT BASTARD - uh oh bye bye Gertrude Time - mom and dad are fighting to be Martin's favorite parent lmao - no not the promise :C - Martin is the brain cell, he really just played both these men like kazoos - gdi Peter give me my boy back EP 159 (The Last): - hi I am Sad - Marto blease just go with the tired eyeball man - "i see you" MY B O Y S EP 160 (The Eye Opens) - oh lord here we go - at least we get some Jonmartin conversation - Monologue Time! - Jon: can I just say, from the bottom of my heart...my bad EP 161 (Dwelling): - welcome to the apocalypse bitches - FINALLY i've been waiting for these tapes for my entire life - TIMMMMMM! SASHAAAAA! - Elias being a normal person is unsettling - ALL THE EYE JOKES gdi I refuse to simp for eyeball man - THE JARRING "ARCHIVIST" I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD - "If I wish for all of you to go away do you think it'll work?" well it worked on Tim and Sasha - Elias: I'm a cool boss, I can drink wine - the image of Jon just huddled on the couch with a bag of tapes and listening to them over and over is so sad - sorry Gertrude no Sasha, just a sad little man - thank u for the powerpoint Gertrude - JON DON'T SNAP - i love them so much your honor EP 162 (Cosy Cabin): - GERRY GERRY GERRY - okay Gertrude and Gerry are adorable I love goth boy and his badass grandma - Gerry, ever the pragmatist: but what about TAXES gertrude - Tim and Sasha interacting is the sweetest thing ;_; - oh this is AFTER the hookup lmao - OH WAIT Sasha canonically knew about Danny??? I didn't know that oof - Oh Jon's getting a phone call I suppose - Jon's trying so hard to be dramatic and Martin's like "okay bitch grab ur backpack and lets go" EP 163 (In The Trenches): - "Tell everybooooody I'm ooon my waaay, new frieeends and new plaaaaces to seeeee" - YESSS LET MARTIN CURSE OVER THE GUNSHOTS AND BAGPIPES - "Martin can you stand over there and cover your ears while I cast Eldritch Ramble" EP 164 (The Sick Village): - another one that hits different in corona times - I hate the word soupy - what in the midsommar - if you can't find your own statements, DIY your own - Martin: fuck u Jon, Helen's my friend now - Martin: can I get an Uber, can I PLEASE get an Uber EP 165 (Revolutions): - this is my friend's favorite episode so I'm excited - oh circus music gross - THE RHYMINGGGGG OH I LOVE THIS - my arms are sore from happy stimming at this audio oh my god - SHUT UP JON IT WAS A GOOD POEM - GET HER ASS JON - is that our first "Ceaseless Watcher"?? I think it was! - Jon: Level Up! - Martin: that's hot EP 166 (The Worms): - HELL YES JON SAID FUCK - oh worm? - Martin answer your damn phone - awww Martin don't doubt yourself :C EP 167 (Curiousity): - Fiona: lmao watch this -passes out- - oh I didn't realize Eric was one of the OGs, their conversations make more sense now - Michael :c - Gertrude you got played like a fiddle damn EP 168 (Roots): - jealous Martin lmao - Jon just tell him why you woke up that would probably solve this - As someone who also freaks out about every little twinge this episode felt targeted EP 169 (Fire Escape): - desolation time? desolation time. can't wait to walk through hell - so aside from Smirke's 14 we have the 3 additional fears: the Extinction, the Scotland, and the Landlord - oh this one is terrifiyng i love it - OOOOH the "jons" slowly fading in was really clever - G O D martin sounds so defeated poor boy EP 170 (Recollection): - Martin finding tape recorders is the cutest thing - Oh fuck are we in the Lonely oh shit - this is so disconcerting i love it - someone get this man a better chair EP 171 (The Gardener): - Martin: damn that's a lot of bones - oh not THIS dude again I can barely understand him oh my GOD - well that was interesting EP 172 (Strung Out): - oh web? - oh this is sad shit - I think this is one of the worst domains yet for me personally this sounds like hell - g o d the web makes my brain hurt blease Jonny I'm stupid EP 173 (Night Night): - oh dark? - oh so the darkness is just the apocalypse daycare? nice - oh and this tween runs it, nice - Jon: are you SURE you want me to kill this middle schooler? - wow this is depressing EP 174 (The Great Beast): - oh hunt? - oh vast? lmao that's what i get for assumptions - Martin just wants to kill a man is that too much to ask someone give him a gun EP 175 (Epoch): - ex...tinct...ion? - “Peter was right” no FUCK YOU I refuse to give Peter any credit LOOK ADELARD WAS RIGHT, Adelard Decker laid the BLUEPRINT - poor Jon he's gettin these hard-hitting google searches - Basira and Daisy?????? OH WAIT THAT MEANS OH NO

#the magnus archives #magnus archives #tma

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