#annabelle 'helping' martin to lay off the lonely and martin helping annabelle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cardboardqueen · 3 years

Text

tma spoilers up to 197, tl;dr at the end

It’s long been my personal headcanon that martin will have to kill jon at the end of the show (or allow him to die, or prevent him from living, etc) for a few reasons

At this point we know Jon has a self sacrificial streak, jon dying wouldn’t be much of a surprise. But we also know that Martin is rather protective and has already gone to great lengths to keep Jon safe (going after him in S2, working with peter, etc)

and in s5, there’s been an emphasis on martin’s agency that I’ve really enjoyed with respect to them being equals in their relationship, but I think there could be more to it

I’m especially thinking of their conversation in 169 about whether to go into the burning building. The “don’t make it my decision” and both of them learning that they need to communicate their feelings and desires better. martin refused to make that decision and it was a bad time for both of them (in that their relationship was strained, martin was hurt, and killing jude perry did nothing for her victims). Martin knows that standing back and letting things happen isn’t useful at this point

and time and time again, martin has shown an ability to contradict the world as it is now.

He pushed for jon to leave the cabin

he wanted to talk to the soldiers in the slaughter domain

tells jared to lay off of jon in ‘The Gardner’

he is able to break jon out of statements (if with some difficulty) which we know jon can’t do by himself but can with martin’s help

with annabell cane’s first phone call he just fully “nope’d” out of a conversation with an avatar of the web

he sits on the extinction couch! the whole point was the fear of inevitable degradation and pollution and he’s just like ‘yeah its a bit gross but im tired’

he apologized for bumping into people in the processing line

after he’s grabbed by trevor we learn that the reason he could be killed was because trevor was the prey, not the hunter, even with his knife to martin’s throat

he’s able to find his anchor and leave the house in 170 even after being drawn into the lonely’s effect again (something that we’ve not seen from any other victims, even basira’s on her own hunt now)

he had a fairly normal rational conversation with the embodiment of his own suffering and misery and was able to walk away fairly easily

there are others, but it feels a bit like martin’s in the wrong genre, basically. jon is such a part of the apocalypse that he couldn’t escape if he wanted to, melanie and georgie are immune to the fears’ effect for very good in-narrative reasons, but martin just repeatedly opposes the apocalypse in many small ways that would otherwise feel very out of place if he hadn’t been doing it all season, and the more we learn the more important it feels.

I think martin’s trip with annabell told us a lot of things, but among them is that martin’s not scared to venture out on his own. He’s scared of losing jon, sure, but he doesn’t feel dependent on him for safety and is at least somewhat comfortable leaving him and doing things that he knows jon would disagree with. Over the course of the season he’s developed his own firm opinions re: eyepocalypse, evidenced by the evolution of his feelings about jon killing people.

some very good screenshots by @lumberyjack point out that jon has been referred to both as “the archive” and “the eye’s pupil” in the past, and if what annabell said is true and they have to be destroyed simultaneously, then either jon and martin are going to have to split up to do it (which seems unlikely as they’ve just been reunited), or they’re in the same place

the importance of anchors has been well established in breaking the fears’ control of a situation, jon has already said that martin is his “reason” for being able to go on and stay human and as we got closer to the watchtower he’s been able to keep jon from slipping into a statement or replacing jonah in the eye. Martin is the reason Jon’s resisting his place at the top of the watchtower, and it doesn’t seem unreasonable to think that he could combat the apocalypse itself

Martin is one of the only people to actively defy the new world order in S5 and in ways that continue to break genre tropes. He loves Jon and is protective of him, but he’s already said he won’t doom the world over it. And Jon’s comment of ‘nobody gets what they deserve, not even me’ still feels like it’s yet to come back around and bite us. Jon may think he deserves to die to save the world but I doubt he wants to die by Martin’s hand and Martin certainly doesn’t want to kill him. I just think he’s the only one who can.

tl;dr martin has repeatedly set himself apart in this new world as someone who won’t stand for its bullshit. i’m fairly sure jon will have to die, or at least that destroying the archive will kill him. I think that martin is going to be the only one capable of killing jon and making sure that he stays dead

#tma #tma meta #the magnus archives #tma 197 #tma spoilers #not for 198 #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #the magnus archives finale #cardboard post #cardboard meta

79 notes · View notes

thekisforkeats · 3 years

Text

A Song of Praise Upon Your Lips (Let all the Broken Pieces Shine, Chapter Two)

Info: The Magnus Archives, D&D AU. JonMartin in this chapter, more ships to be added. Rated T. Post-Canon. Jon is amab nb and uses they/them, Martin is a trans guy.

CWs: Darkness, falling, spiders, manipulation, webs, implied body horror, character death (mentioned), alternate realities, character injury, fire.

Summary: In which Martin thwarts the Web's plan for good and all (or so one hopes) through the power of poetry. (The poem is the first and last stanzas of Kahlil Gibran's "On Love," from The Prophet, published 1923.)

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

Previous Chapter

They are falling through endless darkness. Martin holds Jon close to him and wonders how much longer this will take. Will he be in this darkness forever? Would it be so bad if he was?

“Time to let go,” a voice whispers. Feminine, soft, almost motherly, but threaded through with something like malice. “He is lost to you. Time to come back to me, my little spiderling.”

“No,” Martin whispers into the darkness. “No, I won’t let go. One way or another, together. That’s what we said.”

He can hear irritation in the voice. “Where he goes, you cannot follow. Where you belong, he cannot exist. You made your choices long ago. You cannot undo them now.”

“I’m not letting you take him from me!” Martin shouts it this time, and tightens his hold on Jon’s body. “I don’t care if I die, I’m not letting go!”

“Silly, stubborn spiderling. You are mine. You have served my purpose, all these years, and served it well. Do you truly think it was any coincidence you came to be by the Archivist’s side? The Whispered One, that you called Beholding… the power that should have gone to the Lone Wolf, that you called Forsaken… they may have tried to claim you, but you have always been mine, little spiderling, however much you twist and turn and try to deny the truth of what you are.”

Martin can see the speaker in his mind, even if his eyes are shut: from the waist up, a woman with ebony skin and white hair, but from the waist down… a spider. It’s impossible, he knows it’s impossible, because she’s from a game. And yet, still, he knows her name, and he speaks it into the void:

“Lolth?!”

A soft chuckle. “Yes, spiderling. I am the one that set you in that world, set you on the path to meet the Archivist. I am the one who ensured you would connect with the power of the Spider there, a power that is mine even if she did not know that fact until she has finally come falling down through the void between realms. She will add to my power, and she will become me and I will become her, and together we will usurp the other gods that would keep us trapped. We will spread our Web across every realm and every sphere.”

The woman seems to hold out a hand to Martin. “Come, spiderling. It is time to come home to me. I am your true mother, and I will love you better than your mortal mother ever did.”

“No,” Martin whispers again, horrified. This can’t be real. This is a horrific dream. Lolth is a fictional being that he has always been alternately repulsed by and fascinated with. She is a deity from a roleplaying game that he had stopped playing years ago, though largely for lack of anyone who would play with him.

And yet, it makes a horrendously cruel sort of sense. The Mother of Puppets has always reminded him of Lolth, a little bit. He thinks of Annabelle Cane and her desire to fill Martin with spiders. He thinks of his own tendencies to manipulate, his own love of spiders, of webs, even of fiber arts, of tying things in knots to keep them where he wants them to be. Of the way he spoke to the tape recorders the same way he spoke to the spiders he ran into--as pets, almost. As sweet, cute things to be loved.

He has known, for a long time, that if the Lonely had not claimed him the Web might have. He’s had dreams of turning into a spider, dreams he woke from screaming. Even if he likes spiders, he doesn’t want to become one. Sometimes he thinks he went to Peter as much to escape the fate he saw in his dreams as anything else he’s told himself.

A part of him wants to take the offered hand. To let go of Jon, and move forward to his own destiny.

But they made a promise. One way or another, together. It makes the decision easy.

Martin swallows. “No,” he says more firmly, opening his eyes. Lolth is there, only a dim outline in the darkness, but he can see her, vaguely. “I will not go with you. I’ve made my choice, I saw my Domain, and it wasn’t full of spiders.”

Anger flashes in Lolth’s dark eyes. “Foolish boy. Do you think I can’t make you come with me?”

“I think…” Martin pulls Jon closer to him. “I think you can, sure, but I also think…” He gathers himself, takes a deep breath, then presses on, “I think if it were that easy, you’d have done it already instead of trying to make me come willingly.” He’s thinking faster than he ever has in his life. There were no powers of good in their world, no Hope or Courage or Love to balance the Fears. But if this truly is Lolth, and not just his brain giving form to the Web, then maybe there’s a chance. Maybe there are good powers to draw on, out here in the dark between realities.

Maybe, if he tries hard enough, he can get one of them to listen.

“I never would have served the Eye, or the Lonely, or the Web, if I’d had another choice,” Martin spits into the void. “I would serve Beauty. I would serve Truth. I would serve Love.” He swallows, glares at the darkness, at the form he can just barely make out as his eyes adjust. “And you know that, don’t you? Wherever we’re going… those things have power, and you want me to come to you before I get beyond your reach.”

Lolth scoffs. “You would leave me, and go back to the Protector? He will not take you back, not in that form.”

Martin grinds his teeth. “I don’t care who, or… what it is I serve, I just know that it isn’t you,” he growls.

Martin feels a warmth building in him, a heat, a flame. It’s lighting up the darkness, letting him see Jon’s lifeless body and the tapes both. It lets him see Lolth, hovering out there in the void, lets him see that the tapes are connected to her. If he lets go, she’ll get Jon. That’s what this is about, he realizes. Whether or not she wants him, she definitely wants Jon, and Martin is keeping her from her prize.

“You don’t care about me,” he whispers. “You just want Jon’s body, to fuel whatever ritual you’re trying to do.”

Lolth almost smirks. “I would prefer to have you both, but I will settle for the Archivist alone. We made him, my sister and I, which means that I made him, because she is becoming me even as we speak. You have resisted me in the past, but the Archivist…? He is already mine. Has always been mine. Will always be mine.”

Martin glares at the spider-woman. “I’m not going anywhere Jon doesn’t go, and since I’m not letting you have him… I guess you don’t get either of us.”

“And how, exactly, do you intend to stop me, spiderling?”

There’s a tug on the tapes, and Martin screams as Jon is half-wrenched out of his arms. He clings, desperately, grabbing at the tapes, screaming louder as they cut into his hands. “No! No! Please, not now, I can’t lose him now!”

“Too late, spiderling.” Lolth’s smile is cruel. “It was always too late.”

He has to do something. He has to stop this. The heat and warmth and light within him needs somewhere to go, but it can’t just come out through his hands. He needs words, that’s who he is, who he’s always been. But what words? What words would help here?

It’s not Keats that comes to him, because it’s never Keats that comes to him in the moments of pain and terror--Keats is for joy, and longing, and elegiac melancholy in the rain. It’s Kahlil Gibran, whose words sustained him through Jon’s coma and his mother’s death and working for Peter Lukas. A poem about love, about divine love. He speaks the words into the void like a prayer, because whatever he’s doing is as much a prayer and a wish as anything else.

When love beckons to you, follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

As he speaks, the fire grows. Not the cold fire of the Desolation but something warm and kind and loving. It fills him with joy, so that despite the nature of the words (For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning) his fear is banished and his terror soothed. His grip on the tapes surrounding Jon strengthens, and he begins to haul his lover back to him, away from the spider-woman.

Something like fear flickers in the goddess’ eyes. She says something, a negation, a denial, but Martin cannot hear her, because he is shouting now, stanza after stanza, the words and the prayer fueling the light and warmth within. He clutches Jon to his chest and grips the tape tightly.

He is intending to rip the tape binding Jon, to break the Web and free them both, but as he thinks of doing this, the flame within bursts out through his hand and burns through the tape surrounding Jon. The fire leaves both him and his lover untouched, but it consumes the tape. Martin can see the flame shooting off in every direction, unraveling the Web that Lolth had so carefully woven.

“No!” The goddess’ scream is so loud that Martin almost covers his ears, but that would mean letting go of Jon and that’s not happening. “No! I will not let you undo my work!” She lunges forward at them, to grab them both, or maybe just to try one last time to wrench Jon from Martin’s grasp.

Martin is surrounded by flame now, and he has a vague sense that his hair, long-since touched white by the Lonely, has abruptly shifted back to red and might actually just literally be fire right now. He holds out his hand, focusing not on Lolth but on the space around them. He has to keep them safe from her. He has reached the last stanza of the poem.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

The darkness around them alights, a sphere of flame that surrounds and protects Martin and Jon both. Lolth hits the fire as she lunges, and screams again. Then she fades back into the blackness.

“She cannot protect you for long, spiderling,” Lolth hisses. “I will come for you. I will always come for you.”

And then she’s gone, and they’re falling, falling, falling. Endlessly and forever, falling into the void.

The fire around them fades, and they’re in the dark again. Martin thinks that maybe he used the last of his energy, but even if all he did was to stop the Web’s plan… maybe that’s enough, in the end.

He’s fading, his consciousness dimming. He’s barely aware of Jon’s body in his arms. He takes a moment to hold Jon close and kiss the dark skin of his lover’s brow, cold despite the flame that had surrounded them not long before.

“I love you, Jon,” Martin whispers, “and I’m never, ever letting you go. Never again.”

And then everything fades into blackness. If this is death, he thinks, it’s not so bad.

Next Chapter

#the magnus archive fanart #tma #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #fanfic #my fanfic #tma spoilers #otp: one way or another together #let all the broken pieces shine #tma d&d au #this one had a much better spot for the cut #i need more poetry in the later chapters of this

2 notes · View notes