#i haven’t started it yet but i hear gerry is there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starrypawz · 5 months

Text

AO3

Gerry and Nemo have an experience that's not so much 'kink gone wrong' as 'kink gone meh' (as @ml-nolan described it when I was talking about this) Content notes on AO3, a safeword is used in this

Gerry’s bent over the foot of the bed, ankles bound to the bedposts and hands bound behind his back. He hears the rustle of fabric as Nemo hitches up the short skirt he’s wearing and feels the slight pull as Nemo pulls the lace underwear he’s wearing to the side and presses on the plug in his arse and he shudders and moans. And then moans even more as Nemo grinds against his arse the dildo pushes the plug in further.

Nemo chuckles and grinds harder which draws more moans from Gerry before they pull back and check their ropework.

“Comfy?”

“As much as I can be” He chuckles, surprisingly nonchalant for someone tied down, plugged and edged.

He takes a few long moments to take in the sight of them, beautiful as always. Today in a black corset of satin and lace and black stockings. And then his eyes go to the dildo sitting snug in their harness. The purple one that’s become the mutually agreed on go to that’s just long and girthy enough that it hits just right for both of them.

“Good,” Nemo ruffles his hair and then bends down to kiss him on the forehead. “Ready?”

He nods.

He closes his eyes. Between the bondage and the plug he’s hard and starting to ache with the need for release and he just needs to let his mind drift and settle into the scene at hand as he’s done countless times by this point, easy.

Nemo runs a hand over his back and his cock gives an answering twitch as as Nemo digs their nails into his shoulder and he opens his eyes to find Nemo sitting on the edge of bed abd they gently tip up his head

“What am I going to do with you?” Their voice is a soft purr, the sort that lulls him, soothes him, “Such a shame-”

Gerry swallows hard.

“I’ve heard…” Nemo’s voice drops a little, becomes harsher, “You’ve been a bad boy, Gerard-” and with that Nemo grabs his hair and tips his head back and he moansNemo pulls harder and the twinge of pain runs right down to his already aching cock. “I think… maybe just maybe I need to remind you of your manners-”

Nemo gives one more tug before they move away. If their footsteps actually made a noise he’d hear the sound of stockinged feet against carpet but he does hear the sound of Nemo digging around in their ‘toybox’ and he does give a shiver of anticipation.

But

But he should around now be slipping out of himself and into the scene. Sure they’re two switchy kinky goths playing around in their bedroom. And he is Gerard Keay local spooky weirdo who is apparently prone to getting kicked in the by the universe who burns cursed books for a living to prevent a largely oblivious populace from a variety of grisly fates.

But right now he’s meant to be Gerard Keay a bad boy who needs to be brought back into line with a firm but gentle hand and at the total mercy of whatever Nemo feels is a fitting punishment.

And yet-

His thoughts are cut short as Nemo appears again, flogger in hand and they gently smack it against their palm and he swallows hard and watches as Nemo starts to tease the tassles with their fingers.

His body betrays him and he moans and Nemo chuckles before they lay the flogger down. They reach under him and take his cock in hand and he gives a sobbing whimper of a moan as they tease him, “Oh would you look at that, you’re dripping, you’ve made a bit of a mess there haven’t you…” He moans as Nemo squeezes, “Anyone would think you’ve misbehaved on purpose…” He squirms, “As if you want to be punished… as if it turns you on,”

“I-” “Did I say you could talk?” Nemo pulls his hair again enough to make his eyes water and he shudders in such a way he’s surprised it doesn’t make him cum on the spot. And then he’s left there as Nemo stands there, flogger in hand as they contemplate.

“Five I think…”

“Only Five?” He dares to speak but this time Nemo seems to allow this.

“Yes, five, but if you make a noise I’ll have to start again.”

He swallows hard.

“Do you agree to this?”

“Yes…” He pauses, “Yes sir,”

“Good boy,” Nemo smiles and takes a moment to bend down and kiss him softly and sighs, “You’re so pretty like this you know?” Nemo gently runs a thumb under his eye and catches a black tear from his smeared eyeliner. “You’re going to be beautifully wrecked when I’m done with you,”

Gerry shudders.

And then Nemo begins to tease, trails the flogger over his back, gives a couple of light testing swats that make him flinch and he gasps but that reaction seems acceptable.

And… He’s turned on that can’t be denied but he still can’t quite step out of himself and into the scene. He wants to do this, he likes to do this they’ve played variations on this theme over and over

He’s not-

The flogger comes down on his back, thoughts derailed as it catches him off guard and he yelps.

“Sorry…. sorry sorry…”

“It’s ok,” Nemo turns soft again, “Just try again,”

The flogger comes down, and this time he manages to keep silent, “One,”

He’s not sure what’s wrong, nothing hurts (Or more nothing hurts in the wrong way, there’s the pressure of the ropes and he knows he can stay bound for a good while before things become uncomfortable, his cock aches and it’s any wonder he’s not cum yet and his skin stings in a way he downright craves and he can feel himself starting to float a little but-

Flogger comes down on his back again and he manages to remain silent even as his skin stings, “Two-” Nemo takes a moment to rub his back and he dares to risk a soft whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” Nemo gently teases his hair and he feels himself melt, “You can keep being a good boy for me can’t you?”

Nemo gently rubs his back, “Just take a few minutes?”

And he does and gives a soft moan as Nemo gently rubs his back and Nemo gives the sort of soft chuckle that’s better suited for when he has his head in Nemo’s lap as they lay on the sofa.

And as he lays there he continues to pull apart what’s wrong.

He’s horny as anything right now, he’s been teased to such an extent (Nemo doing an amazing job as always) he’s going to be a complete wreck once he finally gets to cum. (And that it will feel fucking amazing) And he should be deep deep into that blissful state that he gets from this sort of play but he’s not, his body is reacting in all the right ways but… but his mind isn’t into it.

Nemo stands, raised the flogger and

“Haribo!”

Nemo stops.

(Sure the traffic light thing works well enough but a conversation one quiet evening had somehow lead to Haribo being chosen as a safeword for ‘Nothing is really wrong but I would like to stop, thanks’)

“Gerry?”

“I’m…” He sighs and it takes some effort, “I’m ok… I’m not hurt… I mean you know what I mean,” He gives a weak chuckle and Nemo responds in kind.

“Do you want me to untie you,” “I’ll… I’ll be fine for the moment,” He pants, face buried into the sheets as he tries to centre himself and Nemo reaches out to gently rub his back and then he raises his head. “Not sure what went wrong… we’ve done this kind of thing before I’m just…”

“Not feeling it?” “Yeah,” Gerry sighs. And then moans as his cock protests this continued neglect and he ruts slightly against the bed to provide just a smidgen of relief.

“So… what do you want?”

He thinks for a long moment, “Cheesecake,”

“Cheesecake?”

Gerry chuckles, “Yeah we have that one in the fridge right? That fancy Tesco one we found on clearance-”

(Sometimes occasional bouts of insomnia could be a boon)

“Have you been thinking about cheesecake the whole time?”

“No” Gerry chuckles, “Maybe a little?”

“I mean it is a really nice looking cheesecake,”

Gerry sighs, “And yeah… just feel like I’d rather be eating that right now,” “Cheesecake it is then” Nemo starts to untie his wrists

“Need a shower first-” “A cold one?” Nemo teases. “Oh fuck no-” Gerry mumbles into the sheets as his cock continues to protest it’s neglect and he wonders how he doesn’t cum when Nemo gently removes the plug from his arse before they untie him.

Now freed he slowly moves himself to sit with his feet on the floor and gives a sigh of relief that turns into one of arousal as he watches Nemo strip out of the corset and then off comes the harness and they stand in front of him naked but for the stockings.

“Fuck that’s hot,”

“Mhmm,” Nemo teases their tits for good measure.

And then they drop to their knees.

“Little ghost?”

“I’ve thought about it… and you’ve actually been a very good boy,”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Nemo nuzzles his thigh, “And if you want-”

“Can I fuck your face?”

“Mhmm,” “Have I been a good enough boy to cum over your tits?”

“Yeah,” Nemo sets to stripping him out of the lace underwear and the skirt in short order and then Nemo runs a pierced tongue over the length of him before they tease the head of his cock for a few long moments, fingers working between their legs to tease themself just to take the edge off before they take him into their mouth properly and with shaking hands Gerry gently reaches out to get a grip on the back of Nemo’s hair.

#tma nemo #gerry keay #gerard keay #attempts at smuttery

9 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

okokokok jongerrymartin prompt!!!! jon is having a Very Bad Not Good Day, and his two spouses come give him hugs!!! lots of sleepy happy cuddles until he feels ok :) hope u have a good day!!

Got in the mood to finished the promised jongerrymartin, so here you are! Just soft husbands in a no-powers AU where Jon gets some desperately needed love. Hope you like!

Jon threw his bag against the wall, an exhausted sigh on his lips. “Sorry I’m late.”

“S’alright. Dinner’s in the fridge.”

Gerry’s curled up on the couch, a worn paperback novel in his hands. He looks so cozy, like he’s been there for hours. He probably has. They usually have dinner around six most days and it’s nine right now. He can hear the shower running- must be Martin. It’s so achingly domestic. The two of them work all day at the bookshop, trading off the evening shift so they can have dinner together. Dinner that Jon never makes it too. He feels jealous only for a moment before it turns into guilt. What right does he have to be upset? He’s the one who comes home late, who spends more time at work than he does with his spouses. It would be inevitable that they’d grow apart, that Martin and Gerry would naturally become closer. It wouldn’t be anyone’s fault but his own.

He must have been standing in the doorway for far too long, as Gerry looks up from his book with a concerned glance. “You alright, love?”

Jon feels his face heat up at the name and tries in vain to stop a sniffle from escaping. “M’fine.”

Gerry gives him a dubious look. “No you’re not. C’mere.” He opens his arms and Jon makes his way over, falling into them with another sigh. He hides his face in Gerry’s worn t-shirt, trying to leech any warmth he can get. “God, you’re tense,” Gerry remarks as he runs a hand down his back. “What did Bouchard do today?”

“Nothing,” Jon replies, the answer muffled as he refuses to relinquish his spot on Gerry’s chest. “It’s my fault, really. I’ve got deadlines and I’m not meeting them. Need to put in a bit more work.”

“Jon, you’re there every night,” Gerry sounds exasperated, a tone that’s used by most people when it comes to Jon. “You don’t even get overtime. Can’t Tim and Sasha help?”

“It’s not their problem,” he tries to explain, lifting his face to meet Gerry’s eyes. It’s hard to look at them, so full of unwarranted worry and care. It’s almost enough to make him tear up again.

“They’re your assistants. You should let them assist you.”

Jon hears the shower stop; Martin will be out soon. He has to get his emotions under control, he’s acting like a child. That’s the last thing the two of them need at the end of the day.

“I might have to work this weekend-”

“No. Not again.” Gerry sits them up, giving him a stern and slightly angry gaze. Jon moves back instinctively, though he doesn’t mean to flinch.

“I-I’m sorry,” he starts, getting a bit choked up. Damn it. He casts his eyes to the ground as if it’ll help control the tears. “I know I haven’t been the best partner as of late, but it’s been r-really hard at work and I’m t-trying-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gerry’s voice immediately quiets, his eyes going soft. He runs a hand down Jon’s side and he shivers at the touch. “Of course we miss you, but we’re more worried about you. You’re always stuck at work, Martin’s going around making phantom cups of tea-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hush, don’t apologize.” Gerry pulls him close again, the touch grounding him. “It’s just- you’re wasting away, Bouchard’s running you ragged. You’ve got to push back against those deadlines, it’s not like the archive’s going anywhere. I know you look up to the man but really, it isn’t right what he’s got you doing-”

“I heard unnecessary apologies. Is Jon home?”

Jon looks up to see Martin in the hallway with his flannel pajamas on, running a hand through damp hair. He must look a mess because Martin’s face instantly falls. “Oh, Jon.” The tender way he says his name restarts the tears in earnest.

“G-God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Jon-” Martin’s settling against his back and he can feel that comforting warmth on all sides now. And yet he still can’t control the panic of having disappointed his partners, the only ones who care enough to help him when he’s like this.

“S-Sorry. I mean-” He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I hate that I get like this, I don’t mean to- to be-” Jon can feel his fingers digging into his palms, filling in the familiar crescent-shaped indents from times before.

“Hey, what did we say about that?” Gerry’s got his hands around his, gently but firmly uncurling them until his palm lays flat. Martin hisses in sympathy at the sight of the inflamed red marks.

“Sorry,” Jon whispers out again, before wincing at the word choice. “I’m- I’m always so dramatic. I don’t know how you two stand it.”

“Okay, one, I love your drama,” Martin insists, giving him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “But that’s not what this is. Elias is taking advantage of you, and that’s not okay. You see that, right?”

Jon shakes his head. They don’t understand- he didn’t deserve this promotion, and now he’s got to prove that he’s worth the trouble. Elias is trying to help him, not hurt him. It’s just going to take a bit of extra work, a few busy weekends. Elias assured him that once everything was up and running, he’d be able to relax. Never mind that it’s been months- he has no frame of reference for how long these things take. Elias would know.

“It’s my job,” he whispers, leaning back into Martin's chest in an attempt to get him to play with his hair. It works. “It’s what’s expected.”

“Did you forget I used to work there?” Gerry’s doing that thing again, massaging Jon’s hands in a way that’s guaranteed to make him melt. “And I have spies on the inside. You do not have a healthy work environment.”

“I wish you wouldn’t gossip with Tim and Sasha,” Jon mumbles, his eyes half-closed in contentment. It’s hard to stay awake when faced with this much tenderness. “Very unprofessional.”

“That’s one thing I’ve never claimed to be.”

“You know,” Martin starts lightly, as if what he’s about to suggest hasn’t been said a million times before. “You could always work at the shop with Gerry and me. We could use your help with the remodeling. You can organize the new non-fiction section!”

“We’ll even let you put the poetry section in the back, by the toilet-”

“We will not.”

The banter is comfortable and familiar. Jon smiles. “Would be nice.”

Martin does that dreamy sigh of his as his fingers gently run through Jon’s hair. “Reckon it would.”

“In the meantime,” Gerry yawns and leans back against the cushions, though he doesn’t let go of Jon’s hands. “Could always call Gertrude. We didn’t part on the best of terms, but she’d never miss a chance to put the fear of God in Elias Bouchard.”

Jon snorts, though the idea isn’t half-bad. “That’s unnecessary.” He settles back against Martin, reveling in the quiet peace of the evening. It’s the first time he’s relaxed all week. Perhaps he won’t go into work on Saturday, maybe he’ll just lie here forever. He pretends not to hear Martin whisper ‘Do it!’ and closes his eyes as Gerry pulls out his phone and begins to text.

It’s nice, being at home. He should do this more often.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999294

#my writing #prompt fills #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #its soft husband time #fluff #hurt/comfort #Anonymous

155 notes · View notes

gerrydelano · 3 years

Note

So whenever the narration uses "Gerard" are you referring to the alter? Or at least nearly every time? Or is it less distinct sometimes?

that’s the idea! at the very least, in PBR, yes. the most direct moments include:

the very opening flashback sequence in 1.1 (candorsteep) — though, i will say, the entire first chapter is packed with foreshadowing.

the final confrontation with gertrude in 2.4 (pyreknell)

this most recent scene in 2.7 (upwelling)

this particular indicator only happens when i’m writing from gerry’s perspective in the narration, but he’s shown up when other people were narrating, too! like 2.5 (grimguard) when he’s walking with jon and his demeanor shifts, and when they took sasha’s statement in 1.7 (moonspill). for those times, i indicated it with him putting his hair up in a high ponytail so there’s a visual cue, as well as how his dialogue and expressions change.

the use of name switching in TSP was a little more complicated and had way less correlation with this than just with the concept of Who Gerry Is to other people, and to himself in relation. he was a child throughout the whole beginning and didn’t even know yet that he wanted to be called gerry, so he only refers to himself as that in narration once in CH6, and then in CH8 he’s back to just calling himself gerard because it’s directly after his mistrial and he’s in a bad place. the only times this alter shows up in that fic are in small bursts of arguing with jon and miriam, but it’s very fast and easy to miss! they spent more time co-conscious there, and it’s WAY less distinct, yeah. less intentional on my part there, because i was telling a different story with a different objective! it’s not going to be a big ~plot twist~ every time, and isn’t even intended to be like that in PBR because it just... happens to be there, as much as jon’s cane or tim’s hearing aids. sometimes a section of the story will call for more focus on those things, sometimes it won’t!

PBR gives me more of a chance to bring it into the narrative/build a story around it, in part because it starts with them as grown adults right at the place gerry’s canon story ends. the system has been functioning smoothly for a Long time, and they’re very covert — as most systems are intended to be, until the time is right. in this case, some of them haven’t even bothered to take their own names.

so, YES, you got it! and it’ll get easier to refer between them than “gerard” vs “gerry” when he starts to get more comfortable being himself for once. next installment!

#asks #anon #pbr tag #pharos #this is going to be. his code name tag until i name him publicly.#all my friends are so very mad they can't call him by his actual name yet jhbkn

22 notes · View notes

myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 3

Word Count: 6,077

POV: Jamie and then switches to reader

Warnings: Language that’s about it for this one.

Notes: Here we go on Part 3. Hope you guys are enjoying this little story. As always feedback is welcomed, good or bad. Happy Reading!

Ruined Masterlist

JAMIE'S POV

Standing there in the kitchen, rooted to the same spot you were just twenty-four hours ago, you still couldn't believe all that had happened. In that short span of time, you'd learned that not only was your new neighbor the woman who you first fell in love, and happened to still be in love with, but that she was also going to be your new team doctor. You spent most of last night tossing and turning in bed, trying to come up with a way to worm your way back into her heart, which seemed to be locked up as tight as Fort Knox against you.

She was still as stunning as ever and your hands still burned with the feel of her curves on your skin. To think that she was only a couple doors away and that you could be holding her again was sheer torture. (Y/N) had always been amazing, at least in your eyes, but now she was just even more. She'd gone out there and become one of the top orthopedic and sports medicine doctors out there, from what you'd heard from the Stars trainers. Why you were surprised, you weren't one hundred percent sure? In high school, she'd always been smart and at the top of your class, even if she made some poor choices once you'd broken up. Now though, she seemed to be doing everything right; except for maybe not giving you a second chance. You had plenty of time to fix that, if only you could come up with a plan.

You were interrupted from your thoughts, by four paws tapping on your kitchen floor. "Hey Ger, what are you doing here?" You said, as you bent and petted Tyler's youngest dog.

"We're going for a walk after you and I work out." Gerry's owner told you, as he sauntered in behind the pup. "Going to check out that new neighbor of yours. Well, ours really, since my house isn't too far away."

"Oh, no you're not."

Tyler's brow shot up in question. "Why? Have you met her or something? Does she have some fatal flaw I should be aware of?"

Your eyes practically rolled in your head at his comment. "No smart ass, she flawless, but she's also off-limits."

"Yeah, doctor husband or something like that. I'm sure he's gone all hours and she might in fact be bored. You know doctors are notorious cheats."

"And you're not?" It really was the pot calling the kettle black and all. Tyler just shrugged the comment off though. He never truly considered it cheating if he was in an open relationship, too bad the women he dated didn't feel the same way. "There is no husband."

"Perfect. But wait then who's the doctor?"

"She is."

Tyler's eyes got big as he let the information sink in. "So, she's going to be working on us." You nodded your head yes. "Even better. I'll definitely be a needy patient."

"No, you won't." Before he could even ask why you added. "She's also my ex."

"Wait a minute…hold up here. You have an ex that's a doctor. How did I not know this?"

"Because I didn't know she was." You see Tyler trying to put the pieces together and still not making them fit. It was a complicated situation, so you thought it best to help fill him in. "(Y/N)'s my ex from high school. She's also the first girl I ever loved."

"Wait, doctor neighbor is (Y/N)? As in the first girl you ever kissed and the first girl you ever fucked?"

"Who told you that?" As soon as you asked the question, you already knew the answer.

"Jordie, of course." Of course, it was your big brother. You should've figured he'd spill the beans about that to Tyler. "And according to him, you never got over her." You weren't exactly sure you wanted to admit that, so you kept your mouth shut, which apparently said more than actual words. "You ARE still in love with her, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

Tyler rubbed his hands together in a sinister way that told you he was up to no good. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

"No, it's not, because you're not going to do a damn thing."

"Who said I was? I'm just going to enjoy the show." The devious smirk on his face told you a different story.

"I know you…" you didn't get to finish that thought, as the front door opened and Gerry started to bark at whoever just entered.

"Hey Ger," you heard the recognizable voice of your brother Jordie. "Thought you guys would already be working out by now, but it looks like you're getting a late start."

"Only because this guy is too busy fawning over the new neighbor," Tyler commented hitting your shoulder and you punched him in the arm back. "Ouch." You hit him hard but not as hard as you really wanted to.

"New neighbor huh?"

"Yup, and she's a doctor." Tyler just couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he?

"So, she took the job huh?"

"Wait, you knew (Y/N) was coming here and you didn't tell me?" It was like you were back in high school all over again and Jordie just continued to find ways to torture you.

Jordie's hand wiped down the front of his face and pulled on his beard. He didn't need to answer you for you to know that he knew (Y/N) had moved to Dallas. "Justin mentioned she was offered the job, but he didn't know if she was going to take it."

"Why wouldn't she?" Jordie cocked his head to the side. "Of course, don't say it. It was because of me." A nod of the head was all the confirmation that was needed from Jordie. "Still doesn't explain why you didn't tell me."

"I didn't see a reason to tell you until I knew for sure, and I haven't talked to Justin for a bit. It's not like I just call him and up all the time and ask him about (Y/N)."

"Why didn't you tell me she was a doctor at least? You've obviously known that for a while."

Jordie blew out a frustrated breath. "Have you ever seen yourself when someone mentions her name?" You hadn't, but really you imagined you looked the same as you always did; so you simply shrugged at Jordie. "You look like Gerry when Tyler doesn't pay attention to him." You looked over at Gerry, who seemed to look rather pleased with himself, so you couldn't see anything wrong with that. "Scratch that. You look like Cash and Marshall, who are both sulking at home because they know Gerry is Tyler's favorite."

"Hey, I love all my children equally." Tyler protested though you knew Jordie was right in his assessment. Tyler's other two dogs were undoubtedly at home moping because he didn't bring them and would probably ignore Tyler completely when he got home. It left you wondering if you did the same anytime anyone mentioned (Y/N)'s name. Did you just go sulk in the corner when anyone brought her up? You threw your head back trying to think about the last time anyone ever said anything about her. It had been a few years, but you did remember your mom mentioning something about her and what did you do; you'd walked out of the room and went for a run not even choosing to listen to what your mother had to say.

The question now, was why did you do that? The answer was obvious, now that you'd seen her. You still loved her and it hurt. Fuck. At first, you'd done it to protect yourself, because you couldn't stand hearing about her being with another guy. She'd practically made the rest of her way through high school fucking other guys and it killed you, that someone else was touching her, kissing her, loving her. Well, they would never her love her like you did and that's what hurt the most, that she would give herself to some guy that wouldn't treasure her as you did. But then you hadn't cherished her as you should have. "Fuck!" You slammed your hand down on the counter.

"You're doing it again," Jordie called out after you, and you hadn't realized you started to walk away. Only this time you weren't leaving because you didn't want to hear what was said about her; you were running away from your feelings for her. You'd been doing that since the day the rumors started about her. It was time to stop running.

You turned back to Jordie and Tyler. "How do I get her back?" Tyler's eyebrows shot up, whereas a huge grin broke out on Jordie's face.

"About time you finally realized you needed to fight for her."

"I did."

"No, you didn't. You tried for a week, gave up, and have spent over a decade avoiding your feelings for her. That's not fighting for someone." Well, when Jordie put it that way, you really couldn't argue.

"Alright, but what do I do now?"

"That's a tough one brother. You've got a lot to make up for in her eyes."

"I already fucked up when I ran into her yesterday. She's never going to speak to me again."

"Unless you get injured and she has to," Tyler said and you both turned to him with an incredulous look. "What? It's true. She's the team doctor. She'd have to talk to you then." He wasn't wrong, but it seemed sort of underhanded, and the last thing you needed was her thinking you lied again.

"Not an option." You told your best friend. "She'll see right through it if it's a lie and I don't plan on injuring myself on purpose."

"Well, if there's anything good about the situation; it's that you've got time on your side." Jordie was right. You had a whole season to win her back, now all you needed was a plan to do that.

READER'S POV

It was twenty-four hours later and you still couldn't get Jamie Benn out of your head. Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. Why did he have to look so good after all these years? That beard, you had no idea that beards were your thing until you saw him in one. And those muscles, Jesus, when did he get those. The feel of his abs were still imprinted on your fingertips from trying to steady yourself when you'd run into him. This was not good, not good at all. You should not be thinking about Jamie, let alone in this way.

You unpacked yet another box, hoping to distract yourself from lustful thoughts of your ex who also happened to be the hot hockey player that lived just two doors down. 'Remember all the things he said about you;' you told yourself as you placed a vase on the end table in the living room. He'd ruined your reputation with just a few words and he could do it again if you didn't steal yourself against him. But damn, if he didn't look good, just standing there shirtless.

A knock at the door, thankfully interrupted your thoughts. You headed to the foyer to answer it and were surprised to see yet another bearded Benn staring back at you. "Heard you'd moved to town," Jordie said by way of greeting. "Thought we'd come by and welcome you to the neighborhood." It was then that you realized standing beside him was a petite blonde woman with the most inviting smile on her face.

"Hi, I'm Jessi." She held out her for you to shake.

"(Y/N), it's nice to meet you. Won't you guys come in?" You stepped aside and they followed you into the house. "Sorry, this place is a mess. I'm still trying to get things together since the movers left."

"It looks great," Jessi told you and you knew she had to be lying but it was still nice of her to try. "Believe me, I still have boxes I haven't unpacked from our move to Montreal and now we're heading to Vancouver."

"Well, I'd call it a win then." You shrugged and she laughed. "Less packing."

"For sure," she agreed. "This is for you. I wasn't quite sure about what to bring as a housewarming gift but I figured this goes for any occasion." She handed over a bag, which contained two bottles of very expensive wine in it.

"This is absolutely perfect. It's like you knew I needed this."

"I have a feeling we are going to be very good friends," Jessi told you, that warm smile gracing her face again. "Speaking of which, Jordie and I are having a dinner party tomorrow night before he heads out of town for training camp. It's small just about ten or twelve people. We'd love to have you."

The hesitation that you experienced inside, must have somehow transferred to your face, for the next thing you knew Jordie was trying to reassure you. "Before you saying anything. Yes, Jamie is going to be there, but it's my understanding that you two are going to have to deal with each other a lot. Might as well try and be friends." You knew that Jordie was right. Despite what had happened in the past, and Jamie's assumption about you being in Dallas; the two of you were going to have to get along.

"Plus, I will gladly smack him upside the head if he gets out of line," Jessi added and got the impression that she would definitely keep her word. "So, what do you say? It will give you a chance to meet a couple of the other players as well."

You took a deep breath in, weighing your options. On one hand, you could stay here and let the wounds of long-ago fester, or on the other, you could try and at least be cordial to one another, after all, you would be seeing Jamie on a pretty regular basis. The last thing you wanted to do was give him the impression that what was between the two of you so long ago bothered you enough to avoid him. "I say sure," you told them, an excited look crossing Jessi's face. "What time?"

"Dinner's at seven, but come around six, so we can have a few drinks?" She looped her arm through yours, then proceeded to head back to your front door. "Or earlier. I'd love to get to know you better. Give me your phone. I'll text you our address the minute we get home. It's not far from here. Oh, and dinner is casual, so shorts or jeans are fine."

"Sounds great. Can I bring anything?"

"Just yourself."

"Yeah, looks like you have enough on your plate here," Jordie said, which garnered a whack across the back of his head from Jessi. "Ouch."

"See, I told you I wouldn't mind smacking Jamie if he acts up." The two of you burst out laughing leaving Jordie to rub the back of his head. "See you tomorrow."

Thank god, you went into your new place of work the next day or you would've spent the next twenty-four hours worrying about seeing Jamie. As it was, you'd already changed your outfit three times. At first, you'd gone with a pair of jean shorts and a black button-down but then felt it was almost too casual if you were going to be meeting some of the other players. So, you changed into a sundress but that gave off the vibe you were trying too hard. In the end, you opted for white shorts and a navy peplum off the shoulder top. It was definitely casual but also a little conservative at the same time.

Even though Jessi had said to come earlier than six, you opted to go on time, not wanting to rush her of getting things or herself ready. Their place was fairly close to yours, so it took no time at all to get there. You rang the doorbell, and Jessi answered. "(Y/N), it's so good to see you again, come in."

"I wasn't sure what to bring, but I remembered this used to be one of Jordie's favorites." It was Jamie's as well, but you chose to ignore that fact.

"Oh, what is it?" She asked referring to the cake box you held out.

It was then that Jordie appeared. "Tell me that's not what I think it is?"

"It is." Jordie's eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas before he snatched the box out of your hands and proceeded to head down the hall to the kitchen.

"Hey, Jame, you'll never believe what (Y/N) brought." Shit, Jamie was here already. You'd hoped you had a little time to maybe mingle with some other people before he showed up.

Jamie stood there, beer in hand and smile on his face, as you walked into the kitchen. His grin grew a little wider as you walked into the room, whether that was from the cake or you, you weren't sure. Before either of you could mutter a word, Jessi cut in. "Obviously, I'm missing something here. One of you needs to feel me in."

"It's only the best chocolate cake on the planet." Jamie finally chimed in. "Hi (Y/N)."

"Hi Jamie," you greeted him back, yet blushed from his words of praise about your baking skills.

"I swear it's why I called this guy Chubbs back in the day. He would literally beg (Y/N) to make this for him all the time." Jordie contributed to the background story of the cake.

"Hey, you used to eat at least half of it." Jamie teased his brother back and you realized you missed their easy banter back and forth.

"It's true, I did," Jordie admitted to Jessi as he opened the refrigerator to put the cake inside, remembering how it was always better cold. "Maybe I should put this in the other fridge and we don't have to serve it when everyone else comes."

"Fuck that." Jamie cussed and you had to laugh. "You're sharing that bad boy with me."

"Wow, I've never seen them get this worked up over cake. I'm wondering if we should just eat it now before anyone else comes." Jessi told you as she helped Jordie make a spot in the fridge for the box.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Jamie asked turning that intense gaze of his on you. It was one that always left you hot and bothered when you were younger, and apparently, it was still doing that to this day.

"A beer would be great," you finally managed to mumble out.

"They're out here," Jamie told you and you followed him out the French doors onto the patio where a small fridge held several types of beers. Without thinking he grabbed you a Molson and twisted the cap off. "Oh shit, force of habit, I guess. Did you want something else?"

"No, this is fine."

"Remember the time we stole Heather Thompson's last two Molson's at Eric's party." both you and Jamie burst out laughing.

"She went around accusing everyone, while we drank them in the backseat of Justin's car." You added, but then there was also more that went on in that backseat.

"And then she thought Justin took them and went after him." Both of you were having a hard time catching your breath and finishing the story.

"But she tripped and landed face-first in the mud."

Jamie gave a loud bark of laughter at the memory and you found yourself laughing harder with him. It was just like that night, only then his arms had been looped around you as you both tried to stifle your giggles and not give yourself away. "She was so pissed. I'm pretty sure she never spoke to Justin again." Jamie remembered.

"He should be thanking us for that." It felt good to just laugh with Jamie. You took a long sip of your beer and realized how easy it would be to fall back into old times with Jamie; too easy. The thought sobered you. Jamie smiled at you, and damn if your stomach and heart didn't do that little fluttery thing it used to do. Both of you just standing there staring at the other neither willing to look away. It was almost as if to do so would be admitting there were still feeling there between you.

"Ouch!" Jessi screamed from inside, breaking whatever silent feelings were passing between the two of you. You both scrambled inside.

"Everything alright?" Jamie asked just as you were about to.

"Jess, cut herself," Jordie answered as he wrapped more paper towels around her thumb as the blood seemed to soak through the ones she had on currently.

"Here, let me take a look." It was a pretty deep cut, but also clean. "You're going to need a couple stitches. I have my bag in my car if you don't want to go to the emergency room."

"I can't go to the emergency room. There's no time." She looked at you with pleading eyes. "Is it going to hurt though?"

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. "Don't worry, I'll numb you first, not just pull out a needle and thread." Jessi laughed a little with you, some of the tension leaving her face. "I'll be right back." It took about a minute to run out and grab your medical bag. Considering that you would be stitching up hockey players on a pretty regular basis, you had all the necessary equipment to throw a couple on Jessi's thumb. You moved her over to the small table in the kitchen that was cleared off and cleaned her cut thoroughly before numbing the area so she wouldn't feel a thing and getting to work. "How did you cut your thumb? A finger I can see, but your thumb?" You didn't really need to know though you wanted to take her mind off of things, as she was staring at you intently along with Jamie and Jordie.

"I was washing the last few things and didn't realize I'd left a knife in the water." By the time she answered you, you had all three stitches in. "Wait, you're done already? How did you do that so fast?"

"Practice, plus I sort of need to be fast to get these two back on the ice."

"I've never had anyone stitch me that quick before," Jordie commented as you wrapped up Jessi's thumb. You chanced a look at Jamie, whose warm brown eyes were even wider than normal watching you.

"You're good to go, though you're done in the kitchen for the night. Keep that dry for forty-eight hours if possible. You'll need to keep them in for about a week to ten days. Your doctor can take them out for you if you want, or I can just pop over some night if you want."

"Could you? I mean that would be great and so much easier with getting things ready to go to Vancouver, though you have to promise to come over before that. I owe you more than just dinner tonight." It was then that you realized no one else had shown up yet and you were beginning to wonder if Jamie had forced these two to invite you over for other reasons.

"You don't owe me anything," you commented cleaning up the table and putting things back in your med bag. "Though I feel like I must have got the time wrong. Was I early?"

"No, not at all. I wanted you to come early," Jessi answered. "I was hoping we could get to know each other better, though I didn't think that we would bond over you stitching me up." You both chuckled at that. "I'm definitely glad you were here though."

"Well, since I'm here, put me to work. What else needs to be done before people get here?" Jessi sent Jordie and Jamie out to man the grill, as you finished helping her get all the side dishes ready. Almost everything was ready, there were just a few last-minute things that you were able to do for her. The two of you developed a fast friendship and you were somewhat disappointed that she would be leaving in a few short weeks, though she assured you most of the girls on the team were sweethearts and that you'd probably get along with them. She was in the middle of telling you about Tyler's latest girlfriend when the two walked in, followed by another blonde who you didn't know.

"You can start the party now that I'm here," Tyler stated as he entered the house. This first impression of him told you he was going to be a handful if he ever got an injury. "Hello, gorgeous," he said kissing Jessi on the cheek as he came in. "And you must be the beautiful new doctor I heard a thing or two about." Tyler made his way over to you, kissing your cheek just as he did Jessi's. The boy was obviously a notorious flirt.

"Well, I hope it was all good."

"If it wasn't, I'll throw hands with whoever said anything bad. Well, make that a hand and some fingers since you already had to use your skills on me." Jessi told Tyler, and it was then that you noticed she'd not greeted either Tyler's girlfriend or the woman that came with them.

"Already putting the good doctor to work?"

"Yes, I cut my thumb," you stood there awkwardly awaiting an introduction to either of the women while Tyler and Jessi continued their conversation. "But (Y/N) here stitched me up in seconds literally. You guys are lucky to have her."

"Ah, good with your hands I see," Tyler said with a wink towards you, and you knew your first assessment of him was correct; he was a flirt. "And you make house calls it seems."

"Not to your place," Jamie's booming voice came from the doorway, making you jump a little.

"You're no fun Chubbs," Tyler pouted, while a serious looked crossed Jamie's face. You'd seen it numerous times when he was younger. It was a warning, that someone, this time Tyler, had pushed the issue too far and if it continued, he'd end up paying for it. Part of you wondered if he still had that death glare on the ice.

You were saved from it going any further when the doorbell rang and more people arrived. It ended up being the last five people for the dinner party, Alexander Radulov, Ben Bishop and his wife Andrea, and Jason Dickinson and his girlfriend Alandra. Jessi introduced you to all of them, yet still overlooked Tyler's girlfriend and friend. If she hadn't mentioned before he arrived that it was his girlfriend coming; you would've thought she was just the flavor of the week.

All the guys, and the two nameless women, headed out to the patio, while you, Jessi, Andrea, and Alandra stayed inside. You waited what you thought was an appropriate time, before saying anything. "So, I have to ask…um Tyler's girlfriend and the other one…was there a reason you didn't introduce us?"

"I don't like her," Jessi stated so matter of factly, that your jaw almost dropped. "Her name is Sara and she's only dating Tyler because she after his money." You thought she was done but she kept going. "And if she has her way, her friend will get her hooks into Jamie." You turned to look outside, where you found the other blonde watching Jamie flip steaks on the grill. She was definitely trying to flirt with him, it was obvious even from your view in the kitchen. Your gaze was so locked in on the two that it startled you when Jessi said, "Her name is Caitlyn." The name seemed to fit her. You knew nothing about her, yet you found yourself disliking her just for her name alone. Well, that and how she just nonchalantly stroked Jamie's bicep just now. "And I think it's time we see how those steaks are coming."

Jessi grabbed your hand and led you outside, along with Andrea and Alandra. "Hey babe, we're almost ready here," Jordie told you all. "How about you guys?"

"Just need to fix a few things on the table and we'll be good. I'll be right back." She ran inside, leaving you to seethe over the blonde Caitlyn flirting with Jamie. You closed your eyes blinking hard. Why did you care if she had her sights set on him? It would serve him right to get a taste of his own medicine, wouldn't it? You inhaled deeply. You weren't that person anymore, there was no reason to get back at Jamie Benn. You'd done that in high school, or at least your sixteen-year-old summation of getting back at him had, and look what it got you. Nothing, that's what. While you'd never fully trust Jamie again, you didn't wish him ill will; you were past that.

"You should really go save him, you know?" Andrea Bishop whispered softly to you, and you quirked your brow at her. "Jess told us you grew up with Jordie and Jamie. She'll probably back off if you go talk to him instead of us."

"Oh, I don't know."

"I'm sure he'll be extremely grateful." Did it matter if he was? Of course, you wanted your relationship, or at least your working relationship, to be amicable but did it need to be anything more? Helping him didn't mean that it had to be, the rational side of you reasoned. You nodded to Andrea, then headed over to Jamie.

"I hope you remember how I like mine done." Oh lord, you didn't mean it to come out like that. It seemed too intimate. Jamie, eyes sought yours as soon as the words left your mouth. "The steaks…I meant the steaks."

His eyes softened and his lips quirked up into that smile. The one that always seemed to melt your heart. "Medium well." He was right, of course. "I haven't forgotten anything that you like." The innuendo hung in the air, which seemed to suddenly grow thick, making it hard to breathe.

"So, like I was saying…" Caitlyn started, but Jamie simply turned towards you and gave you his full attention.

"How's Justin been? I haven't caught up with him in a couple years."

"He's good, married now."

"Jamie, did you know…" Caitlyn tried yet again.

"I heard that he did, to Alyssa Barnhart right? How's she for a sister-in-law?" Alyssa had honestly been a pain in your ass during high school. When you were promoted to captain of the cheerleading squad instead of her she'd made it her mission to make your world a living nightmare.

"She's grown up a lot, thank god. If she was still the same girl she was from high school, I think I would have to disown Justin."

Caitlyn totally abandoned Jamie, after making another attempt at stealing his attention and him blatantly ignoring her. Jamie leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Thank you, I thought I was going to have to light myself on fire to get her away from me." His warm breath tickled your ear and sent goose pimples rising on your flesh.

"Please don't do that. I've already had to use my suture skills tonight. I do not need to be treating third-degree burns for anything." You both laughed at the comment and fell into an easy conversation as he finished grilling, which didn't take him more than five minutes. But it was five minutes that you truly enjoyed in his company, and that was the most disturbing part.

At dinner, you found yourself seated beside him thanks to some suspicious place cards making their way onto the table. Alandra was on your other side, so you were able to get to know her much better. Both she and Andrea went out of their way to make you feel like part of the group and it seemed as though the three of you were going to be great friends, with Jessi bonding you all together.

By the time dessert was served, you found yourself smiling and laughing with Jamie more than you could've ever imagined. "I'm told that this is the best cake in Canada." Jessi declared as Jordie brought in the confection that you made. "I'm dying to taste it. Thank you (Y/N) for bringing this."

You blushed at her praise, for you didn't feel that it was that special of cake to warrant such praise. "It's honestly the best cake I've ever had," Jamie said, and you saw Caitlyn whisper something to Sara and you knew it had to be some devious remark. She was acting like a teenager, but then maybe she still was. You had no idea what her age was.

Jessi went to cut the cake, while Sara stood up from the table at the same time. "Here let me help you," Sara offered, then tipped her wine glass purposely. It was headed straight for the cake, but Jamie quickly scooped it up before the glass could fall, though the wine did go everywhere on the table. You quickly grabbed your napkin before it could spill on Jamie's lap, the action putting your hand right in front of his crotch. Your fingers were a hair's breadth away from touching him and you felt heat infuse your cheeks. Get it together, you told yourself. You're a doctor. It's not like you haven't seen or touched a man's penis before. You tried to regain your composure, then finished wiping up the mess.

"That was close," Jordie called out, and you weren't sure if he was referring to Jamie saving the cake or you almost touching his brother's cock.

"Maybe I should just cut that in the kitchen," Jessi said taking the cake from Jamie and moving to the island.

"I'll help you," you announced, following her so that you could get a little breathing room from Jamie. You could hear the conversation pick back up in the dining room, as you went to help your new friend.

"I loathe that girl," Jessi muttered the moment the two of you were alone.

"Which one?"

"Both," you both burst into a fit of giggles. "If Tyler wasn't like a brother to Jordie and Jamie, there would be no way either girl would be in my house right now." You understood her plight as you'd felt that way when Justin had announced he was dating Alyssa. Thankfully, she'd at least grown-up, whereas these two had a lot more of that left to do. "You know she dumped that glass on purpose because Jamie's paying attention to you and not her friend."

"I'm pretty sure they planned it together."

"True." You sliced another piece of cake as Jessi held out a plate for you to put it on. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What happened between you and Jamie?" It was the last question you expected and something must have shown on your face to say so. "I only ask because you two seem perfect together." You'd thought that too once, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"It's complicated," you finally told her.

"Hmm, Jamie said the same thing when I asked him before you came tonight." You cut into the cake with a little more force than necessary. It was sort of symbolic for Jamie had pretty much sliced through your heart all those years ago, though time had seemed to mend some of it; there were still some residual scarring left. "I get it," Jessi said. "But people change (Y/N). They make mistakes and they learn from them. They become better people. I know it's not something you want to hear, but I think Jamie learned a lot from whatever happened. Maybe it's time to bury the past and make a fresh start." She picked up a couple pieces of cake then started to head back to the dining room. "Just food for thought." It was more than just food for thought. It was a seven-course meal and you weren't sure you were even hungry. As if to prove you wrong, your stomach growled then.

#Ruined the series #jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn imagines #jamie benn fanfic #Dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #dallas stars fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic

118 notes · View notes

iceeckos12 · 4 years

Text

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care.

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!!

#tma #fic recs #ill update this as i read #seriously some very very good stuff on here #long post

318 notes · View notes

radiosandrecordings · 4 years

Text

So @pitviperofdoom wrote a beautiful piece I have not stopped thinking about a while ago with QPPs Jon and Gerry that you should go and read here. They kindly allowed to let me go off on a tangent inspired by it, so here’s a conversation from the night before that fic where I just get emotional over these two and let myself indulge in their dynamic.

Background GerryOliver and JonMartin. Warnings for alcohol consumption and general drunkenness.

“Who’re you gonna bring, eh?”

It was rounding on eleven o’clock, and they were both sprawled about the room, letting the dull buzz of alcohol set in. Jon was slumped on the couch, and Gerry had, at some point, collapsed into the IKEA chair with the weird curved bar holding it up that Jon had never quite trusted the stability of. He’d kicked off his boots after they’d finished eating, his socked feet now resting on the coffee table, nestled between discarded takeaway boxes and bottles of drink. The scotch still stood there uncapped, and minus three glasses. Jon had taken one when Gerry had poured it for him, and Gerry a second after that, while Jon switched to some dark, fruity cider Gerry had found for him at the back of the fridge.

Jon jolted slightly. “What?” He was on his second bottle and the only thing stopping him from nodding off then and there was the fact that suddenly, the fridge was humming incredibly loudly and it was a great distraction. That’s what he gets for getting hammered on a friday straight from work. Was he hammered? A bottle and a half of cider and one glass of scotch didn’t seem like enough to do that but the way that persistent buzzing was pounding at his skull suggested maybe that was enough for the evening.

“Well you get a plus one. Two, if you want, best man privileges and all that.”

Jon’s mouth was dry. He should really get some water. But also, he didn’t really like the thought of having to stand up. “I… Don’t know. I usually bring you.” He pulled a face. “I’m not sure I know anyone that you wouldn’t be inviting anyway.”

“No one from team spooky you’d want to bring to cry on after you walk me down the isle?”

Gerry let out an overdramatic ‘Oof’ as Jon half heartedly attempted to reach over and slap him on the leg. “Stop! Calling us! That!”

“I’ll stop calling you it when the shoe stops fitting. You’re a spooky little team that investigates spooky spooky things. You’re gonna have to accept that one day.”

“Says the man in the process of opening an exclusively horror-based bookshop with his- Well I suppose he’s going to be your husband now. Huh. God, I feel old.”

“I will not hear the good name of ‘Spine Chilling’ slandered in my household Jonathan! And- Well fuck, yeah, you’ve got a point there don’t you. Shit, when did I become ‘Bookshop Husband #2’. We used to be cool. Now we pay taxes and shit. Ripe old age of thirty.”

Jon laughed, and it only hurt his head a little bit. Small mercies. “I would argue you’re still rather cool. In my books at least.” He paused for a moment, letting the air settle into a more sombre tone. “Do you… Do you regret any of it?”

“Not for a second,” Gerry said, running his fingers along the ring that rested on his left hand. He shifted in his seat, and began to tug his hair out of the plait that had been draped over one shoulder. “You never answered the question though. What’ll it be, are we going to have to drunk find you a date? I’m sure there’s an app for fake wedding dates now. Bloody app for everything.”

“Do I need one?” Jon replied, and it came out dangerously close to a whine.

“Well no, but I can’t pay attention to you all day because apparently I’ll have a husband to stare in wonder at or some shit, and Georgie might snap if you spend more than an hour crying on her. And don’t give me that look, you’ll cry! You always say you won’t but you teared up earlier when I told you so I am doing my duty and trying to get you a cuddle buddy.”

“That’s-” Jon started, sounding almost tetchy, before deflating slightly. With Gerry, at least, he knew when to admit defeat. “Okay, so you might have a point… Has Oliver picked anyone out already?”

“You won’t like it.”

“Oh, christ.”

“Yup. Well what did you expect? Jane is his best friend, I’m sorry I know you don’t get on but I can’t exactly tell him no, you can tolerate each other for a day!”

“Worms! All over my archive! How she got them past Rosie still boggles the mind, and really-”

Gerry waved a hand as he tried to cut him off, “Okay, okay, yes I’ve heard the story more than once, I get it, I won’t even put you at the same table. If it makes it better I’ll see what whatever venue we choose’s policy on animals is. Admiral seems like he’d make a good emotional support cat. Get him a little tux or something.”

“As much as I like the idea, I’m not quite sure he’d appreciate it. Unless you’re getting wed in somewhere with copious amounts of radiators, I think he’d be better off at home.”

“You don’t know!” Gerry said, pointing wildly, some of his energy seeming to kick back in after managing to maintain a conscious conversation, “Could be getting hitched in a radiator factory. That’d be something.”

And Jon was glad Gerry was starting to feel more lively, but by the way laughter made his head pound he certainly was not. He smiled through the grimace. “Maybe so.” He had apparently, in a stroke of genius earlier, left himself a glass of water on the table. He’d take that about now, thanks.

“What about Martin?”

And now there was water spilled down his front. Great. “I’m sorry?” He sputtered.

“Don’t apologise, it’ll dry.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jon growled, setting the water back down.

Gerry gave him a faux sweet smile. There was a lapse in the conversation while Jon tugged his jumper off and tossed it onto the sofa next to him. Once he was done wrestling with the wool, Gerry spoke up again. “Seriously though, what about him? I haven’t seen you act like that with anyone since Georgie.”

“I act like that with you!” Jon cried.

“Yes, but I’m special,” Gerry said, pressing his fingers to his lips and blowing a kiss across the room. “And also, you did just admit you act a specific way with him, so. Check and mate.”

“I hate drunk Jon,” he muttered. “Okay, so, we go out for lunch sometimes, and that means I have more anecdotes to tell about him than Tim or Sasha, so I end up talking about him more. And I notice more things about him, like how he has more freckles in the summer than the rest of the year, but that’s just because he spends more time in my office because he seems determined to win the record for most tea made in a workplace environment in a year. So what?”

Gerry looked intolerably smug. “Oh, no, you keep going with your list there, really proving your point.”

Jon groaned. “Shut up.”

“Okay, I will, I will, I just.. You do clearly like him Jon. And I won’t pressure you into anything, obviously, but just give yourself a chance, huh? You’re discarding the thought out of hand.”

Jon made a ‘humph’ of petulance. “Right. Fine. Okay. When’s the wedding?”

“Will you refuse to come if I say Halloween?”

“I will get around to mocking it later, but no. That’s what…” And admittedly, the alcohol was enough that he had to count on his fingers for this one, “Nine? Nine months away?”

“You got it in the end.”

“Once again, Mr Delano-Banks, shut your mouth-”

“Hey-”

“I will update you in eight months time. Until then you are not to bring it up. Deal?”

Gerry stuck out a bottom lip, “Not sure I was expecting that to be how I heard that name for the first time, but wow, okay. And yes, that’s a deal.”

“Good. Now if you excuse me, I am promptly about to pass out on your sofa.”

Gerry got up and stretched, the sound of his knuckles popping making Jon cringe. He glanced up at the clock, before moving the offending jumper away and letting himself drop down on the sofa next to Jon. “Not even midnight yet. What’d I say. Old men, the both of us.”

“Shush. Pillows can’t talk,” Jon muttered, gently manoeuvring his partner so they were both lying horizontal on the sofa, before burying his face in Gerry’s shoulder.

“G’night” he muttered into the sofa fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Gerry said, pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s hair. “I am too.”

#My Post #god I struggle to write for SO LONG. and then these two have me writing 1.5K in one sitting. huh #Jongerry #The Magnus Archives #Jonathan Sims #Gerard Keay #Gerry Delano #the professional tag and the better tag #... okay so it has it referenced so I can get away with tagging it #Jonmartin #My Writing

114 notes · View notes

beholdme · 3 years

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

On a Tuesday in the middle of November, not long after Gerry's 28th birthday, the three of them eat dinner at Gerry's flat, as they often do these days. Jon cooks for them and after, Martin and Gerry wash the dishes and debate the book they both just finished reading.

Jon has been twitchy all evening, so they leave him to read his own book in peace.

He wanders in at one point, leaning against the counter. "Gerry, do you know what day it is?"

Gerry looks over at him in such a way as to indicate that he really doesn't.

"Our six-month anniversary?" He tries.

"No," Martin pipes up, "That's not for weeks yet."

Jon and Gerry both look at him askance. "What? Your boyfriend starts dating another man, you remember the date. I can't believe you two don't know." Martin says as if that about covers it.

"Nevermind that." Jon snaps, and even with his previous moodiness, the others are taken aback at his blunt words and even harsher tone.

"Something wrong, Jon?" Gerry asks quietly, leaning against the opposite counter to Jon and crossing his arms. His tone suggests what he actually wanted to say was 'Do we have a problem here, bitch?' but he manages to reign the actual words in.

"I want to know why you left without saying goodbye." Jon's words are filled with a multitude of frustrations, none of which are actually conveyed in his limited words.

"Yesterday?" Gerry asks, incredulous. "You were asleep!"

"No! Not yesterday." Jon snaps back. "When we were younger. It's been ten years today since you disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Oh," Gerry responds quietly, his defensive posture dropping. He leans his hands back on the table behind him, bringing his shoulders up around his ears. It’s a rare display of confident, edgy Gerry trying to shrink himself.

"I thought we were, you know. Together. Then one day you were just gone! As if you had never existed. Your mother wouldn't tell me anything at all, just sat there smirking at me, said that you were gone and she didn't know when you were coming back, or if you were ever coming back. Which you never did, actually." Jon has been pacing, his voice rising with each new word until the final words are shouted accusatorily into the space between them.

Gerry knew Jon had wanted to talk about this since the day he walked in the library and back into his life. He had waited, been patient, and Gerry had put it off in the hopes that he would never have to choke the words out. Now, that patience was obviously over, and he knew he owed Jon this explanation.

"We were together Jon. I loved you."

"So why? What did I do so wrong, that I got to wake up one day and find you gone ?" Jon's voice has become desperate, and they can all hear the tears that he is trying to hold back.

"Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. We weren't perfect, but we were always so good together. I... I had to get out of there. And I couldn't leave any clues behind, so I couldn't tell you anything, because it wouldn't have been safe for either of us." Gerry reaches towards Jon to soothe him, but he flinches away and Gerry doesn't pursue him.

"I don't understand." The tears have come, and Gerry desperately tries to hold back his own when he sees them.

Martin had up until that point been standing resolutely in the corner, trying not to interfere in their pre-Martin argument. At the advent of tears, Martin moves to stand at Jon's back, gripping his shoulder for comfort. Gerry looks bereft and Martin holds out a hand to get him to come closer as well. They huddle all together, both Jon and Gerry taking comfort in Martin's steadiness.

Gerry leans into Jon, sliding his hand around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm so sorry, love. I've never forgiven myself for just disappearing on you. I thought about you every day."

"I love you," Jon whispers as Martin rocks them both gently. "But I need to know."

"I love you too." Gerry shuts his eyes and wishes more than ever to erase his shitty legacy of pain and blood.

Martin drags them to bed and offers to leave them alone to their talk.

"Please stay," Gerry says, grasping his hand. "You both need to know, and I don't want to have to talk through this twice."

So they all pile into Gerry's bed together, sitting in a vague circle like teenagers at a slumber party.

As Gerry starts to talk, Martin drags him over toward him and begins braiding his dark blue hair. It's both an offer of physical comfort and affection (easily Gerry's main love language) and a simple way of letting him off the hook for eye contact.

With Jon staring at him quite intently, Martin doesn't think he needs any further pressure.

"Jon, you-" He starts and then halts abruptly. Jon reaches over and grasps his hand, attempting to further ground him. "You remember my mother. I know you saw how, how just off she was. Manipulative and controlling. By turns demanding and completely uninterested in me. One day I would be free to run wild for weeks at a time, the next she would have a meltdown if I wasn't exactly where she wanted me, every second of the day and night." Gerry blows a breath out, shuddering at the memory of a particularly bad incident with a vase that had left him needing several stitches over his left eye.

"Well, she wasn't always like that. I remember her being a pretty good mom when I was young, if distant. She was always far more interested in being a wife than a mother, and she loved the way my father adored her.

“When I was 7, my father was blinded in an accident at work. I remember the day the phone call came. She spoke very calmly to the hospital, before hanging up the phone and shattering every picture frame in the house." Martin is finished with Gerry's hair and simply leans into him, offering silent comfort. "He coped okay with his new disability actually, and I liked helping him learn the world again with no sight. My mother never recovered from her initial breakdown though. She was angry and petulant that she needed to help and support him for the first time in their entire relationship and became more and more unhinged over the course of a year.

"One day I came home from school to find a puddle of blood soaked into the floor of the living room. She said there had been an accident and my father wasn't coming back. She hit me for the first time when I cried. She told me that I was a man now, and tears were for useless girls and disgusting… Well, you get the picture."

Gerry pauses and glances between them. A few tears have started to run down his face, but he doesn't seem to even notice them.

"We moved a few days later, and that was all I ever knew about my father's death until I was eighteen, almost ten years later. I'll spare you the horrid details, but as I'm sure you've already guessed, she murdered him. She explained very, very graphically what she had done with the body, and that she would never be caught, no one would ever think to blame her, even if anyone could ever prove that he was dead at all."

The words hang heavy in the air between the three of them. Gerry feels the comfort of their touches, but can hardly stand the affection anymore. He gets up off the bed and goes to look out the bedroom window, arms crossed and posture hard.

"Then she looked me right in the eye. And she told me that was exactly what would happen to Jon if she ever caught me with him again."

Dead, cold silence fills the room.

Gerry turns back around to find them both watching him. "So, I packed whatever I could fit into my duffle bag, and I got the hell out of dodge. I ran. I ran because I couldn't close my eyes at night with seeing your face white and cold and covered in blood and," he breaks off and takes a shuddering breath, covering his eyes and sinking to his knees. "And I couldn't stand that she would hurt you because of me. That all your light and potential would be ripped away from you in blood and pain and nothing I felt for you could make even the risk of that worthwhile."

He lifts his head to look up at them, where they’ve moved to the side of the bed towards him. “And do you want to know what the worst part is, actually? I can’t get over the idea that even though I haven’t seen Mary Keay in 10 years, the ghost of her demons lives inside of me. That I'm really just… Her. That one day my mind will snap and I'll be a danger to you both and I'll be the one hurting you, just like she hurt him. And then I'll just be the same monster who has always haunted my dreams."

Martin and Jon exchange a heavy look. They can scarcely believe that Gerry had endured so much and yet is still… Gerry. Happy, flirtatious, loving Gerry. Gerry, who fills their lives with colour and spontaneity, always showing up when they least expected him, pushing himself into their gravity and asking for space in their lives.

Despite the rather violent nature of Gerry's confession, it doesn't change anything for either of them. Things are not yet settled between them, but they curl around Gerry on the floor and they cry together over shattered innocence and sacrificed futures, and Jon promises himself that he will never let Mary Keay come between him and Gerry ever again.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3

20 notes · View notes

theskywaslookingback · 3 years

Note

jongerrymartintimsasha au you say?

Okay I’m home now and not entirely braindead yet so here we go:

For starters you need to understand how my brain works. With many AUs I just recycle the same headcanons over and over so it just becomes a mashup of whatever things vibe for me the most. So imagine in one hand I have my visible world au (the jgm one) and in the other hand I have the jgt au and then I clap my hands together and BAM! New AU!

So this would be - timeline wise - after Jon, Gerry, and Tim had left university. Jon has a job teaching at said university, Gerry’s degree is in library science and he hasn’t found a position yet so he’s currently working full time at the bar he’d been working in during uni, and Tim is working in a publishing office really close to Jon’s work. So every morning Jon and Tim stop by at this little cafe near Tim’s job to get coffee before work because Tim actually likes coffee and Jon is NOT a morning person and relies on the caffeine. Here we introduce Martin and Sasha who are both baristas that usually end up working the morning shift.

Now, my roommate was a barista and I happen to know every coffee shop AU in the world is a fucking LIE. These places are busy as shit and they don’t have time to stop and gossip with every customer that comes in, okay. And they will hate your guts for trying to flirt when they’re BUSY. BUT one thing that is true is that if you’re either a) really nice or b) an asshole then baristas are sure to remember you. And Jon and Tim just happen to be one really nice guy and one asshole! So Martin and Sasha remember them and sometimes have their regular orders ready to go before they even come in.

Anyway Martin gets this huge crush on Jon just as like a “hey he’s really cute even if he’s kind of rude” kind of thing and Sasha teases him RELENTLESSLY about it even though SHE has a crush on TIM.

But whatever they’re not gonna, like, do anything about it because that would be weird? Right Sasha? I’m mean, they’re probably dating I’m pretty sure I heard Tim call Jon “love” the other day so probably and- (take a breath, Martin)

Meanwhile! Gerry comes by sometimes in the afternoon because Tim says they have the best pastries and Jon is always going on about how good the tea Martin makes is on the occasions where Jon gets tea on his way home and Martin is working. And he has some hours to waste so he brings his laptop and just kind of chills there and he’s intrigued when he hears one of them mention one of his partners. And then he finds out that Martin thinks Jon has nice hands (he does) and Sasha thinks Tim has a pretty mouth (he absolutely does) and Gerry “actual fucking menace and resident shit stirrer” Keay is like “oh I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I actually live with them and would you maybe want to come over for game night sometime? A couple of our friends haven’t been able to make it recently and Jon’s been meaning to start a new D&D campaign I mean, only if it’s not weird.”

And Sasha is super into it! Yes! Let’s go Martin itll be fun!

And Martin is like absolutely not Sash he could be a serial killer.

So Sasha does the only “sensible” thing here and takes Gerry’s number, and when Jon stops by on his way from work she asks him about it.

Of course Jon fucking blue screens for a minute because he’s like “literally what is Gerry up to” but he hesitantly is like yes that’s all true and actually yeah it’d be lovely if you came.

So they become friends. And they keep hanging out. Tim and Sasha first because their schedules end up aligning best out of everyone’s, but then Jon and Martin too. Martin and Sasha like to do things with Jon that Tim and Gerry don’t usually like long trips to museums or art shows. Sasha becomes Jon’s theater buddy because APPARENTLY Martin doesn’t like theater either, the traitor.

And at some point they talk about it and Jon is like “oh no I really really like Martin” and Tim is like “yeah I really really like Sasha” and so they end up upgrading to five. Explaining the way it works to other people would end up with like a chart and a power point slide (which Jon DOES have prepared, thank you) but it works for them and that’s all that matters.

Basically they all end up living in a house together with two dogs and a cat and they all love each other in different ways and it’s beautiful and messy and makes me want to cry.

#long post #statement ends #jongerrymartintimsasha #anonymous

20 notes · View notes

jorts-lad · 3 years

Text

If you haven’t already, may I suggest watching the the post TMA episode 200 live stream. You can find it on the past live streams on the Rusty Quill twitch page. It’s a great time and many fun chats about the show from many of the people at Rusty Quill. If you need more of a reason below I have some fun quotes throughout all 3 parts of the stream.

Slight tangent before that, I do suggest continuing watch their streams, they are pretty great and also if you haven’t yet the other RQ podcasts are amazing.

I might not have the exact quotes but eh, I got them mostly.

In character Among Us (Start)

- “I realize we could end up with like 10 Martins at this point, or 10 Johns, but I feel like that will add to the drama”

- “I hate it already”

- “And it will give Robbin Lennox more screen time then he did in the show so it will be really good!”

- “Hey everybody look at me, I’m hot, I’m the fun one, I’m sexy. Sexy Tim.”

- “Keep adding to canon, that’s right, keep adding canon”

- “Your voice has changed a lot over the years, it’s like you’ve lost track of it”. “I’ve started smoking *laughter*”

- “i like fan fic”

- “All season 1 Tim round”

- “You mean a notTim?”

- “What a Tim to be alive”

- “We can’t have John as the imposter because you’d always hear from a distant corner of the ship, ‘Ceaseless Watcher’ ”

- “If I were the Corruption I guess I would just say, *corruption noises*”

- “Enjoy space black?”

- “That’s the key with Elias, just very British”

- “Hot John rights”

- “This is Elias Shiteatinggrin Bouchard”

- “I don’t suppose there’s an open position at the Archive?”. “Fun-ally enough there’s quite a few”

Jackbox

- “Aww, I love those” “Motion Sickness?” “Yeh”

- “I refuse to say Dino Nuggies”

- “So how is everyone?”

- “I cyber bully Martyn a lot”

- Question: A rejected fear from Smirke’s list. Answers: Vacuuming or The Fandom

- “I’m not voting for either because I don’t understand either joke!”

- “Alex told me to turn it on” “Alex isn’t the boss of you!”

- Question: Ah, yes, Elias Bouchard’s only weakness: Answers: Loose Morals and Fast Women or Mirrors and Thigh High Boots

- Question: What did Martyn photoshop Alex as this time? Answers: The Entire Cast of Glee or A Dinonuggie

- “Keen as mustard”

- “I really thought I had it with Senpai”

- “Hello, I’m Alasdair, the unsung hero of The Magnus Archives.”

- “In a real way aren’t you always playing Helen?”

- Question: It’s all fun and games until Daisy... Answers: Runs Out of Bullets or Kills a Cockney Delivery Driver

- “Wow. Wow. Wow. Jonathan.”

- “I took over the Stellar Firma transcripts and I come into the series at episode 60, I have no idea what the hell is going on. And then I have to describe the noise Tim makes with his mouth.” “It’s technically called speech I think”

- “Someone in the chat said, ‘Content warning: Tim Meredith’”.

- “Original recording of Rick Astley doing what?”

- Question: Martin’s favorite sweater had THIS written on it: Answers: This is what a Tea-Drinker Looks Like or Twink

- “I forgot about the good cows” “How could you forget about the good cows?!”

- “Crawdaddy”

- Not a quote but all i’m gonna say is, Autumn PHRASING

- “Alex. But wrong”

- “Content Warning: Daddies”

- “Martin wearing a shirt that says ‘Tea Daddy’”

- “The two genders: Crawdaddies and Regular Daddies.”

- “It’s alright it’s just a podcast” jonny please don’t i’ll start aggressively crying at you.

- *Jonny and Sasha discus what they are gonna eat for dinner*

- *Jonny messing everything up*

- “I used to play Martin, but ya know”

- “Oh wait does that mean Tim is now kayaking with John and Martin?” STOP IM CRYING

- “Do you here the raw capitalism in his voice”

- “Aw Daisy Chains”. “That’s not what it says”. “That’s what I choose to read”

- *everyone making Alex uncomfortable with words*

- “Oops all Ben”

The Huge Chinking’ Quiz of the Season (End)

- *everyone ominously saying Martyn*

- “Episode 69” “And what is the title of that one?” “Nice”

- “Jacky-B”

- “It’s just a spin off where nothing bad happens and ya’ know cause like Gerry Keay said the fears were the only entity and I said no, fuck you that’s wrong”

- “Alexander J. Bone”

- “Dino nuggets”

- *zooms in on Mike’s face* “You’re doing what? On my stream!”

- “Magns Achves”

- *extended sounds of chicken noises*

- “Spider [nonbinary] is my gender”

- “Over 9,000?”

- “Everyone go home Twitch is over”

- “Tim, I mean Mike”

- “Can we not make Tim a verb”

- “Swoon, swoon, swoon, Adelard Dekker”

- “not a soup store, just soup!”

- *talking about Jonah Magnus* “Cause he’s a bitch!”

- “You can’t just pop in a contact lens, ya got to bring in the whole man”

- “I was covered in disinfectant before I stroked him”

- “Don’t just straps your friends down and pull things out of them, I guess”

- “Rusty Quill Streams is a podcast”

- “Rusty asmr hours”

- “Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze aping these ribs!”

- “The Twilight universe is actually set in the Magnus universe” *disapproving* “NO”

- “I thought you said Shrek shaved her”

- “how’s it feel to get the last line in the show?” “VINDICATION”

- “And for the last time, Statement Ends”

#tma #the magnus archives #rusty quill #mag 200 #tma spoilers

14 notes · View notes

damfinofanfiction · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8: To the East and The Gold Rush

Waking up in New York City was nothing new for the former Vaudeville performer. Buster was accustomed to whichever time zone he was in. He had gone to the east coast for a business trip/vacation with his wife Natalie and they’re staying at the Biltmore Hotel. The couple had attended the premiere of Seven Chances at the Capital theater. They were accompanied by people more favorable to Keaton such as his father Joe, a friend from childhood, Lex Neal, and Nick Schenck, a brother of his boss Joseph. Knowing that the missus missed their children and her sisters dearly, he held her hand the entire event. The screening had a good reception. Keaton was glad that the movie was well-received, although he remained resentful. Natalie was grateful for his presence, but nothing had changed as they still sleep in different bedrooms based on her insistence. After a few busy days, the real vacation began. Now he will be spending a day with his better half.

Once out of bed, Buster puts on his robe and went to the sitting area of their suite to call room service. He saw that Natalie was already awake and sitting frantically on the couch, he said to her, "Good morning Nate."

The missus stopped what she was doing and replied calmly, "Oh Morning."

Her fingers tapped on her knee as she appeared agitated. Buster had not seen her in this state in a while. Natalie was staring at the door and he shot his eyes at it, "Are you waiting for the letter?”

She quivered when she said, “I haven’t heard from mother yet.” Peg was watching the Keaton boys back in California.

He sat next to her and reassured her, "The boys are gonna be alright. We've only been gone since last Friday."

The tears started to form in her eyes, “This is the furthest I have been from our sons. Robert started babbling.” She wrapped her arms around herself, “What if he says his first word and I won’t be there to witness it?”

Buster patted on her shoulder, “I don’t think that would be likely.” He added, “I’m sure Bobby won’t say a thing until he sees his ma again.” To his surprise, Natalie hugged him in gratitude. Buster hugged her back until she broke the embrace to dry her tears. He went to the phone saying, “I’ll order us breakfast.”

That noon Buster and Natalie had lunch with the folks that went with them in addition to the Governor of New York. Joe Keaton shared stories of performing shows as The Three Keatons, dealing with wife Myra’s absences due to maternity leave, getting in trouble with The Gerry Society, and the times they fled out of burning Buildings. The couple spent the day together except when Natalie went out to buy gifts for the boys while Buster was catching up with Lex and discussing the latest film project. When he returned to their suite the middle Talmadge was already there, rounding out the toys and the clothes. He was going to ask her how much she spent on them, but he didn’t want to start another argument.

She was in a cheery mood, “Got that letter back from mother. The boys are doing fine, they missed me. Dutch came over to cheer them up. She took them to the park for fun.”

Keaton hid his hands in his pockets, “Did that letter said anything about me? Did the boys miss me too?”

Natalie pulled a toy giraffe out of the bag, “It didn’t say anything about you. She usually didn’t acknowledge you in letters. I’m sure the boys miss you too. I can't wait to see their faces when they see what I got them."

What she said of the boys missing their father, Buster knew it might not be true. He wished to be a father, but had little time to spend with them because he was so busy at work. His fear arises with the thought of Natalie divorcing him and taking the sons away. He had to win her over to keep the family together. He asked her, “Nate, do you remember Coney Island?”

Natalie frowned upon taking a trip to memory lane, while neatly folding the boy’s overalls, “Why yes, it wasn’t long after Arbuckle made a short there. You took me because you wanted to include me and I obliged. You got us cotton candy to share, we rode on the carousel, and that one coaster you were begging me to ride along.”

Buster added with a narrow smile, “You were so scared that I held your hand the entire time.” he apologized for taking her to the coaster in the first place.

She concluded, “Then we finished the day with the Ferris wheel where we saw the bright spectacle and you pecked me on that cabin. It was a nice date.”

He sat gingerly on the bed, “I would be happy to take you to coney island again, but back then nobody could recognize me when I’m not with my folks, and then Roscoe and now if anyone took notice of me, that whole place would crumble.”

She looked at him, “If you weren’t able to take me, why bring this up?”

He took her hands, “We were both very happy. I missed the days when you were in love with me. The same woman who proposed to me from another coast. I know the old Natalie is still there when you hugged me this morning.”

She took her hands off him to cross her arms, “That was only because I missed our boys.”

He put his hands behind him, “I missed them too. I can’t imagine life without all of you. I will take back the times I was unfaithful to you.”

“Buster, I don’t care if you embrace another woman behind my back. Please don't entice me to be in bed with you again.” She pointed him out of the door, “Please let me be alone to change for dinner.” Natalie closed the door behind him after leaving her room.

Buster was puzzled about the unusual pairings in his life; his parents, Joe and Myra, Norma and Schenck, and Natalie and himself. None of them shared the same age group except for the latter. He wished that his wife wasn’t a strict catholic so she could be comfortable with taking contraceptives and not worry about getting pregnant again and he wouldn’t have to cheat on her. But that’s the way it has to be. If he failed to win back his beloved, there are still less than 3 weeks of vacation to go.

****************

The hopes of Gail being a screen actress were dashed when production was delayed after Sennett comedian Ben Turpin backed out of the upcoming project due to personal matters. Gail wanted to take his place, but was unable to due to a lack of a contract. Though Sennett knew she wanted prominent roles, he was unable to fill them because too many actresses sought her out. But instead, he had heard his former employee Charlie Chaplin just returned from filming in Truckee to film more scenes in his studio and is seeking extras. So he recommended she find work in Chaplin's upcoming film The Gold Rush, and Gail was fine with it just to gain film experience.

There at the Charlie Chaplin Studio, Gail is in the dance hall scene where Chaplin’s Tramp character dances with his love interest. She was busy dancing with a partner to watch the toothbrush-mustached comedian, but caught the part where he was tied to a dog and it chases the cat. She could laugh at this gag, but didn’t want to ruin a good take. The chestnut-haired woman across the hall seemed familiar. Gail didn't think she’s a famous actress. It must be on a tip of her tongue. Then the realization struck her, that was the same woman who was next to her onset of the seven chances. Their time between scenes was too busy to get them to chat. When everyone gets their lunch break, she located the woman eating with the other female extras in the studio courtyard.

Gail sat at the same table as them, “Hi you remember me?”

The woman paused figuring out, “Oh goodness, we were extras in seven chances. Sorry we didn’t get to be properly introduced.” The woman extended her hand, “My name is Eliza Smith.”

“I’m Gail Anders.” She shook it in greeting, “It’s good to see you again and I never got to thank you for saving me from the ridicule.”

“Don’t mention it. We actresses had to stick together.”

Gail and Eliza were talking while having meatloaf and salad. Their discussion consists of their start on careers, Gail’s experiences as a bathing beauty, Eliza’s acting resume, their celebrity encounters, and then the subject fell to celebrity crushes.

"For me, it's Charlie Chaplin of course. I have a crush on him since I was barely a woman. Hell, if I was a virgin, I'd have saved it for him. Are you a virgin, Gail?”

Gail almost choked on her food being asked that. She replied with a blush, “That’s a very personal question to ask.”

“That’s alright if you don't have to answer.” She raised her eyebrow leaning towards the raven-haired woman. “But tell me this is Buster Keaton the cat’s meow?”, When Gail couldn’t understand, Eliza rephrased, “Do you have a crush on Keaton?”

Gail's eyes were looking both ways as she drank her cup of water to try to avoid the touchy subject, but Eliza noticed the signs. “Please It’s all in your face. Your gaze was fixated on the stone face as if he was the king of England.” She chuckled, “It helped when you “pretended to faint” in front of him.”

Giving in, Gail confessed of the time she started seeing Buster in the Arbuckle films. She thought he seemed charming and took interest in watching his films because of his fascinating past, then when she heard the news of his wedding, she was a bit let down, but was happy for him and then she talked about her two other encounters with Keaton. In conclusion, She asked, “Is it wrong to have a crush on a married man?”

Eliza dropped a bombshell, “Chaplin wasn't married when we dated.” Gail’s eyes widen and her jaw dropped hearing this “Really?!”

Eliza with a coy smile, whispered to her to avoid having others hear her “I met Chaplin when I started working in California. I took a job here as a part-time receptionist, but when he noticed me, He then hired me as an extra for his previous film, The Pilgrim. After production ended, we started a relationship. Spent countless nights with him,” she then frowned when she continued, “Then we broke up when he was seeing another woman, and another and another and another. But he did come back to me only for one-night stands and one of them happened while he’s married. Last I heard, if it's true, he has feelings for his leading lady."

She covered her face with her hand, trying to comprehend what happened, "Why are men so unfaithful to their wives?"

“Gail,” Eliza explained, “Men and women in Hollywood have unhappy marriages and have taken lovers. If Buster is one of them, you might have a chance.”

Gail stated, “But I have a boyfriend, I think I still do. And besides, I can’t see myself dating a married man.” Adding a final thought, “I would rather wait until he’s divorced.”

"True, but then where is the fun?” Before they finished eating Eliza looked Gail right in the eye and said, “I would recommend keeping this a secret. God knows what would happen to dear Chaplin if word got out.”

Gail returned to Lenore’s around 6 in the evening. Going inside she was surprised to see a finely dressed man talking with Sally and Lenore at the dining table. Upon noticing Gail’s presence, Lenore called, appearing to break away from her niece’s latest paramour, “Welcome home! We saved you fried cauliflower and turkey.”

The man said in his British accent told Sally, “I didn’t know you have a sister.”

The blonde chuckled, “She isn’t, this is my friend Gail Anders. I took her in when she moved from Nevada.”

The man stood up and bowed in greeting, “Sterling Thomas, my pleasure.”

As they shook hands, Gail said, “That accent, you must be British.”

“Yes, Edinburgh very nice place.” Sterling’s dark hair was slicked back.

Lenore brought over her meal, “Gail just came home from work and you should be leaving too, sir.” This prompted Sterling to grab his hat and approached to the front door despite Sally’s protests for him to stay a little longer

He replied, "We can meet again. I'm here quite a while." She kisses him before watching him leave.

As Gail started eating, silence went on between aunt and niece. She later broke it when asking Sally, “How did you two meet?”

“Both of us were in New York City. I went to a nightclub and he was there. Same story, different ending.”

“How did you find each other?”

Lenore added while crossing her arms, “I presume one of your nightly outings?”

Sally glared at her, "Well Auntie, we met somewhere, and I never felt lucky to bump into him again."

“How is Mr. Thomas any different from your last boyfriends?”

“He happens to be rich.”

The aunt gave her a sarcastic look, “Oh, so now you're a gold digger?”

Sally stood up fumed, “How is that any different from you and Uncle Stanley?”

Lenore stood up in retaliation, “Don’t you bring my Stanley-”

Gail also stood up to soothe this out, “Could you not fight? I had a long day.” Sally and Lenore agreed and the table fell into silence for the whole dinner.

After all that was going on around her, Gail would end the day by kindling herself to a good book. After losing interest in the middle of chapter four she switched to another book. It was a journal about her interest in Buster Keaton. She would write down about the movies she had seen and clipped off the news article featuring a movie review of his and just news about him. Gail turned to a page in which the subject was Our hospitality. A news article glued there featured a picture of Buster and Natalie both wearing pork pie hats for a publicity photo. It was interesting to see husband and wife on the screen together, but now it was bittersweet knowing that buster is probably cheating on his wife. If it was truly something that must be wrong between the two.

The next afternoon, Gail was making herself useful in the Sennett studio, modeling the swimsuits for the other bathing beauties. A crewmember notified her of a call from her residence. Gail answered the phone, the voice at the other end was Lenore.

“The telegram came from your mother.”

Gail has already known what was happening around her family; her sister Geraldine is having twins and her father is due to retire from ranch work. Judging from the woman’s sorrowful tone in her voice, it must be bad news.

“It’s your grandmother, she died in her sleep.”

Devastated, She covered her mouth as her tears began to form and a similar lump grew in her throat. Her whole body shook with the realization that the woman who got her to California is gone.

Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin around 1918

#buster keaton fandom #Buster Keaton #actor RPF #rpf fanfic #silent comedy #fanfiction #buster keaton fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

ollieofthebeholder · 4 years

Text

and some say love is holding on (and some say letting go): a The Magnus Archives fanfic

Also on AO3. Takes place immediately after Episode 159: The Last. Title and song lyrics from Perhaps Love by John Denver, which is going to end up being the lynchpin of an eventual JonMartin playlist.

Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm It exists to bring you comfort, it is there to keep you warm And in those times of trouble when you are most alone The memory of love will bring you home...

~*~*~*~*~*~

The exhaustion hits the second they cross the threshold from the Lonely’s domain to the real world. Jon is shaking from head to toe, worse than the last time he went more than a couple days without a statement, and the confidence and energy with which he brought them out seems to leave him in a rush, like water swirling down a bathtub drain. He could easily sleep for a week.

At his side, Martin’s knees buckle, and he’s trembling so hard it seems like he might actually fly to pieces. Jon tries to support him, but he’s a head shorter and a good deal skinnier than Martin and it would be an effort under the best of circumstances, which these are decidedly not. He intends to guide Martin gently to sit down on the floor, but it ends up being an ungraceful, barely-controlled mutual collapse.

“Let’s just rest here for a minute,” Jon murmurs, trying to catch his breath.

“Do we really have time?” Martin asks, also gasping for air like they had to work a lot harder to get out than they did.

They probably don’t, actually. Trevor and Julia are up there somewhere, cutting a swath through the Institute’s staff, or trying to anyway. The thing that took Sasha’s place is on the loose, too, abandoning all pretense at humanity. Daisy has given herself back over to the Hunt—Jon knew that was what she was going to do without even having to use his abilities—and even if she did it to save them, to save him, she did it knowing she won’t be coming back from it this time. God, if there is an actual God, only knows where Elias—Jonah—has gone or what he’s up to, what he’s plotting now. There may not be a new entity coming into being or a ritual they need to interrupt, but there are still a lot of very dangerous things out there and most of them very much want to kill them. Or at least Jon.

But they’re both exhausted. Jon’s never used his abilities against another avatar before, or such a reluctant subject, and it’s taken a lot out of him. And Martin—God, Martin. Martin stood up to Peter Lukas, to the avatar of the Lonely. He fought his way back from the brink of being claimed. There’s no way he’s not completely worn out. Whatever might be happening on the surface, Martin needs to rest and Jon is going to give him that.

“I think we’ll have to make it,” he says. “The time, I mean. Whatever’s going on...we won’t be of much use like this.”

Martin gives a soft hum, maybe of agreement, maybe just of acknowledgment. They sit there for a few moments, leaning against one of the smooth stone walls, arms still wrapped around each other’s shoulders. There is no sound in that vast, empty room but their harsh and ragged breathing. Jon concentrates on Martin’s heartbeat, close to his ear because of his height and the way they’re sitting. The steady, even thudding comforts him, reminding him that Martin is alive and safe and there. He’s not okay. Neither of them are by a long shot. They haven’t been for a long time, probably since they started working at the Institute. But they’re together and they’re alive, and that goes a pretty long way.

After a bit, Martin says quietly, “The...thing. Not-Sasha. Peter set it loose, Jon.”

“I know,” Jon admits. “It came after us. After me. Trouble is, Trevor and Julia are up there too.”

“The...? I thought they were in America!”

“They were. Followed me here. Finally figured out I’d taken Gerry’s page from that damned book.” Jon sighs heavily. “Daisy fought them off once before, but they came back. They were cutting their way through the Institute. We—Basira and Daisy and I—we were going to try and fight them off, but then the thing that took Sasha’s place came out. Decided Trevor and Julia were a better target than me, I guess? Basira told me to go and I don’t have any real idea what happened after that.”

Martin gives a short laugh that somehow sounds amused, tired, and slightly bitter all at once. “There’s something I never thought I’d hear you say again.”

“Yes, well, I do have to concentrate most of the time to read minds,” Jon says, trying and failing to smile. “And I had something rather more important worrying me.” He pauses, then adds, “What...happened? I know this is the Panopticon. I know Elias is Jonah Magnus body-hopping, and I know Peter Lukas took you into the Lonely, but...what happened?”

“A lot,” Martin says. “Or maybe it just...felt like a lot. I don’t know if I can...” He looks around, then gestures with his free hand off to Jon’s left. “Should be on there.”

Jon turns to look and sees one of those damned tape recorders. Honestly, he should be used to them turning up everywhere these days, and he mostly is, but he’s got to admit he’s surprised to see it here. “Did Jonah bring that?”

“No, I did. Or, well, it came with me.” Martin shrugs. “Didn’t turn it on consciously or anything, so I’ve no idea what’s on there, but I can guess. Tends to turn itself on when something important is going to happen.”

Jon considers the recorder for a minute. It sits innocuously enough, and it doesn’t seem to be running at the moment, so whatever is on its tape is a past recording. It’s just out of reach from his present position, but there is a black nylon strap trailing off one side. He stretches his leg out as far as he can go and kicks ineffectually for a bit before he finally manages to land his heel in the center of the loop. Slowly and carefully, he drags the recorder towards him until it’s close enough that he can reach out and snag it with his free hand.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier just to get up and grab it?” Martin says. “Or wait until you were up to moving that far?”

Jon doesn’t even give the idea of bantering back a second’s thought, nor does he consider putting a gloss on his reasoning. If anyone deserves the immediate, instinctive, and above all honest answer, it’s Martin. “I’d have had to let go of you to do that,” he says as he hits the rewind button. “And I’m honestly afraid if I do, something else will try to take you away again.”

For a moment, there’s no sound in the room but the whir of the tape spooling backwards. Finally, Martin says, “I know, you put a lot of effort into dragging me out of there once already. Shame for that to go to waste.”

A knot forms in Jon’s chest. God, what the hell did Peter Lukas do to Martin? Or...has he always thought like this? “You honestly think I’d have done that for anyone else?”

There’s another beat before Martin answers. “I mean...yes?”

“Martin...”

“You already did it with Daisy—”

Jon is shaking his head before Martin gets all the words out. “That wasn’t the same thing at all.”

“She was trapped in the domain of another...power. You went plunging in, found her, and brought her back out again, alive and well. Seems like the same thing to me.”

“It’s not,” Jon insists, looking up into Martin’s face. “For one thing, the reasoning was completely different. I went to find Daisy because I felt guilty.”

“Guilty,” Martin says flatly.

“I’m the one that brought her into that mess,” Jon says softly. “I’m the one that didn’t prepare properly for what would happen in the Unknowing and got her mixed up in it. And I just...we lost Tim. I lost Tim. I couldn’t bring him home. I could bring Daisy home safe. I went after her because I thought it would help my guilt if I could see her alive, and with Basira again.”

“Did it?”

“Sort of? I still...” The tape pops as it hits the beginning of the reel, but Jon ignores it for the moment. “I still feel guilty about Tim. I think I always will. Not just him getting killed, but...all of it. I couldn’t fix that, and no matter what I do for anyone else, I never can make it up to him. I’m not sure if I could have even if he’d survived. I don’t know if he would have let me. But at least Daisy was out of there, and I knew I’d done what I could for her. And she’s been doing all right, more or less. Or was, until today. Even if she did join the Institute to get away from the nightmares. Basira’s still inclined to beat up on me a bit, but Daisy doesn’t seem like she blames me, which helps.”

Martin sighs and slumps back against the wall. “Think that tape’s ready.”

Jon knows a dodge when he hears one, but he decides not to call Martin out on it just yet. Instead, he presses the play button and lets the tape go.

It is the one Martin had with him, starting with him and Peter Lukas first coming into the tunnels. Jon’s stomach lurches every time Lukas talks, the buttery-smooth words eroding Martin’s self-confidence and serving to isolate him further. It’s no wonder Martin tried to make Jon leave him in the Lonely, if this is how the bastard talked to him every time they interacted. His heart twists violently at Martin’s voice—the way it shifts from nervousness to trepidation to fear to outright panic—and then Elias’s voice comes through and his heart nearly stops dead. He listens to both of them taunting, toying with Martin, both of them for some reason urging him to kill Elias—to kill Jonah...

And then Martin refuses.

Jon’s lips part, but no sound comes out. He stares speechlessly at the tape recorder as Martin’s voice spills out, telling Lukas what he was thinking, why he did what he did, how he figured out that Lukas was lying to him for some reason. He stands up to Peter Lukas, the avatar of the Lonely, to his face, and refuses to kill a man who richly deserves it, a man nobody would blame him for destroying. Jon can picture him, shoulders squared and head held high, a defiant glint in his eye as he stares down not one, but two fears trying to claim him, and remains, solely and unequivocally, Martin.

He’s never been prouder.

His heart stutters again when Martin starts to ask a question and then vanishes. There’s a loud squeal of static, and Jon can almost hear voices in it, but it’s too much effort to try and force knowledge out of a magnetic tape right then, so he leaves it. And then he hears his own voice, piecing together the little bit he was able to glean from the surface of Elias’s—Jonah’s—mind, replaying the conversation leading up to him opening his mind, finding the path to the Lonely, and going off after Martin.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Martin says softly when the tape ends with a final-sounding click.

“What, you wanted me to leave you there?”

“Yes! I mean...I can’t say I’d like being there, but...damn it, Jon, the whole point was to keep you safe,” Martin blurts out. “Weren’t you listening? Did you not listen to a single thing I said? All right, I know I didn’t give you all the information, but I couldn’t, not and risk Peter starting to toy with you. As long as he thought I was really staying away from you, you were safe, from him at least. And I thought with Elias locked up, you’d be safe from him, and I knew—Elias told me you listened to all the tapes, so I knew once the recorders started popping up again you’d hear them eventually. I tried everything I could to keep you safe, and you just—walked into the Lonely like it was nothing!”

“No!” Jon says forcefully, and he grips Martin’s shirt tightly, forcing his attention onto him, forcing him to listen. “It wasn’t nothing, Martin, and you know that. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Ever. I had no idea if I was going to be able to get out again, if we were going to be able to get out again. When I went into that coffin to find Daisy, I left a rib as an anchor by the door, so I’d know where the way out was. I had a plan, as...ill-advised as it was, but I did have one. I didn’t have that when I came after you, and I knew there was a chance this was a one-way trip. But it would have been worth it, do you hear me? I don’t care if I’d been trapped in there forever, because if I hadn’t gone in there, you would have been alone, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t, Martin.” He closes his eyes, trying to stop the sudden rush of tears he can feel threatening to spill over. “All this time...I trusted you. I did. I knew you knew what you were doing. I trusted you to have a plan and to be all right. And you did, and I am so very, very proud of you and what you did. But you...I didn’t just need you to know what you were doing. I needed you to be all right. And when I found that tape you left me, and I realized where you’d gone, I...I panicked. A lot. Nobody would help me, and I was so damn desperate I tried to force Helen to take me to the center, take me to you. I was never afraid for myself, Martin. Not throughout any of this. I was afraid for you. I needed you to be safe, and I was so afraid that I’d be too late.” He draws in a deep, shuddering breath. “I thought I was.”

He looks up and sees Martin staring at him, his eyes wide and wet behind his glasses and lips parted slightly. His expression is hard to read—Jon’s leaning towards disbelief, but there might be a little bit of fear there, too. He could probably know if he wanted to, but in the first place, he is very tired and that’s a lot of effort, and in the second place...well. He’s never pried into Martin’s mind, even accidentally, except once to know where he was because he needed to see him so badly. He’s not about to start now—not here, not in the aftermath of what’s probably the most terrifying thing they’ve faced down since Jon took over as Archivist, which is saying rather a lot.

“Martin,” he whispers again, and it’s halfway a prayer and halfway a question.

Martin shakes his head slightly, although it doesn’t seem like it’s in answer to the unspoken question. “Don’t do this, Jon,” he says, his voice breaking. “Don’t...don’t just tell me what I want to hear. I know you know...I know you listen to the tapes. I know you know how I—don’t play with me. Please.”

“I’m not playing, Martin,” Jon says, his heart breaking all over again. “I meant what I said. Just now. In the Lonely. What I’ve been...I should have told you so long ago. I need you, very much. I care about you. I—” His voice hitches. He hasn’t said it to anyone, in so many years—maybe not ever—has he ever said it? Has he ever meant it?

Well, he means it now. With his entire heart, with whatever he has that still passes for a soul, with everything that is within him. All the twisting paths his mind has taken these last two years, since the first time he really looked at Martin as he sat opposite the tape recorder and insisted on giving his statement, coalesce and unfold into a single, beautiful truth. But it sticks in his damned throat, and he can’t seem to manage to actually just say it.

“He was wrong, you know,” Martin says softly. “Elias. Jonah. Whatever. He was wrong.”

“About what?” Jon asks, a little taken aback by the twist of the conversation. Has he misjudged? He was so sure...

“What he said when he caught me burning those statements. My distraction. So Melanie could get those tapes.” Martin blinks hard. “You listened to that tape, right? He said...that’s when he told me you listened to all of them.” Again that short laugh layered with emotion. “Like that was going to change anything I said.”

“I, ah—no, not that one,” Jon confesses. “Not yet. I...Melanie told me your plan worked. I was...more focused on the statements. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive that day. I almost did, the other day, after I told you about...how to quit, but I—I just haven’t yet. What did he tell you?”

Martin swallows hard. “He said...he assumed you’d told me to burn the statements while he was gone. Said I’d do anything you told me to. It’s not that. I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

Jon nods. He’s known that for a while now, ever since Martin was “out sick” for two weeks and then came tumbling back into the Archives with the news that Jane Prentiss had been holding him hostage in his own apartment, without his phone. At first he thought, if only to himself, that Martin’s insistence on investigating so deeply was out of some inane need to prove himself, but somewhere around midnight, lying awake in his bed and finding himself wondering if the other man was comfortable and—most importantly—safe in the Archives after all, he came to the sudden realization that it wasn’t that at all. Martin knew, even before Jon did, how badly he needed to know all the details of the statements, and he went looking in the hopes that it would make Jon happy. It hasn’t escaped Jon’s attention that Martin is the only one on the team who’s recorded more than one or two statements, either. He shouldered the burden without question or complaint, for no other reason than to help Jon out. Martin has become the only person in the Institute Jon trusts completely and without question, because if anyone has earned that trust, it’s Martin.

“I just...I figured you knew how I felt,” Martin mumbles. ��Even aside from the tapes. I know you just...know things sometimes, too. And, let’s face it, I’m not exactly subtle. Tim—” His voice hitches slightly on their friend’s name. “Tim used to love taking the piss out of me for it. So even if you weren’t psychic—”

“I’m not—all right, fine, I’m psychic. But I’ve never read your mind,” Jon tells him. “I—I try very hard not to invade people’s privacy, especially the people I care about, even accidentally. And I’m—I can be somewhat oblivious at times,” he adds with a self-deprecating laugh. “I suppose...I suppose I didn’t see it because I thought there was no possible way I could be so lucky.”

“Lucky?” Martin repeats, sounding faintly surprised.

Jon reaches up with one trembling hand and cups Martin’s cheek. “To have you feel the same way about me that I do about you.”

He tries not to voice his thoughts aloud, tries not to think about what Martin said the first time, when they were still trapped in Peter Lukas’s hellscape. I loved you. Not present tense, past tense. Loved. Jon knows, with a certainty that has nothing to do with the Eye, that he’s not going to stop feeling this way any time in his life. And if it’s now as one-sided as he always assumed it was, well, he’s lived with it this long. It won’t bother him too much.

Both the Eye and his own, actual brain chime in to inform him that he’s only kidding himself. It will bother him; it will hurt deeply to know that he could have had a chance at happiness, at maybe a little bit of peace, and he missed out on it forever because he couldn’t get his head out of his arse long enough to tell Martin why he agreed so readily to leave him behind before traipsing off to blow up a circus. He hopes like hell that Martin’s words were just an effect of the Lonely, that the world they were in warped his mind and made all his thoughts and feelings in the real world seem distant and unreal, because as terrifying as that thought is, the idea that Martin might have really stopped loving him is worse.

Of course, he thinks bitterly, see previous statement regarding there being no possible way I could be so lucky.

There seems to be an eternity in the heartbeat between Jon’s statement and the small, broken sound that escapes Martin’s lips. He turns his head slightly and brushes his lips against the palm of Jon’s hand, just for a second, then leans into the hand and wraps his arms around Jon, tight and secure. Jon can’t help the gasp of relief as he returns the embrace as fiercely as he dares, silently offering up a prayer of thanks to whatever higher power has decided to give him a damned break for once in his life.

“I—” Jon tries again, but the words stick in his throat just as hard. He wants to say it. Needs to say it. Needs Martin to understand. But they just won’t come.

“I know,” Martin whispers, his voice thick with tears. “Me, too, Jon.”

There are no words, in any language, to describe the emotions that flood over Jon with that. Or maybe there are, but Jon can’t think of them. All he can think is thank you thank you thank you as he presses his face into the space between Martin’s neck and shoulder. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s never deserved Martin, his loyalty and quiet devotion, everything that’s served as a touchstone, a way to ground Jon to reality, the one thing keeping him from losing himself completely. It’s been hard, keeping his distance from Martin since he woke up from his coma, but he realizes it hasn’t exactly been a picnic for Martin either. Jon at least had Basira and Melanie and Daisy, even if at least one of them wanted to kill him at any given time, and even though none of them are Martin, none of them could ever understand him the way Martin has from the very start. Martin had no one, and even if it was his choice—or he was pretending it was, anyway—it had to hurt. All those months in close, near-constant proximity to Peter Lukas, the avatar of Isolation, would destroy a weaker man than Martin Blackwood. Jon knows, with utter certainty, that he would never have been able to survive that. He would have given in. He would have broken. But Martin stayed the course and survived.

And then Jon almost lost him anyway.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, the sound muffled by Martin’s shirt. “I’m so sorry. If I’d...”

“Don’t,” Martin chokes. “’S not your fault. You didn’t—this isn’t on you.” He lets out another short laugh, but there’s no bitterness in it this time and it makes Jon’s heart lighten a little. “You saved me.”

“You saved me first. We’re even.” Jon tries to laugh. “Actually, I think you’re still well ahead.”

Martin huffs, but doesn’t argue. Jon senses it’s less because he agrees and more because he doesn’t have the energy. “Don’t suppose you know the way out of this maze.”

“That...no. I don’t,” Jon admits. He shifts back enough to look up at Martin’s face, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t know if he can right now. Maybe not ever. “I only got down here because—Jonah called me. I’d like to think I’d have been able to find you, but these paths are...”

“Distorted?”

“Yes, that’s probably the best word for them. I doubt I could have retraced your steps and made it.”

Martin’s lips twitch in a smile. “Maybe it’s like leaving the Lonely. Maybe you just have to pick a direction and keep moving that way.”

“No, that wasn’t it,” Jon corrects him. “It wasn’t that I knew where the exit was, either. I didn’t...not exactly.”

“You said you—” Martin stops. “No. You said you knew the way out. That’s it, isn’t it? The only way out of the Lonely was together.”

Jon brushes his knuckles against Martin’s cheek fondly. “I knew you were still part of the Archives.”

Martin blushes. He takes Jon’s hand in his and kisses the back of it gently. “Well, then, maybe we can find our way out of here together, too. If you’re ready.”

Jon can feel his own cheeks heating up. He nods. “I think I’m about as ready as I’ll be able to be down here. You?”

“Same. Feel like I could sleep for a week, though.”

It’s on the tip of Jon’s tongue to suggest they collapse in the back room of the Archives, where Martin stayed when they were worried about Jane Prentiss, but he holds off. First of all, he suspects neither one of them wants to relive those days, especially as Prentiss was closer than they’d suspected. Even now, Jon’s heart lurches and stutters when he remembers those worms working their way through the walls, how close they came to getting to Martin when he was alone and vulnerable, and he doubts Martin has forgotten that either. Second, and more importantly, Jon is fairly certain the Institute is going to be crawling with police, between the thing that isn’t Sasha getting loose and Travis and Julia outright murdering people. The Archives are almost certainly a crime scene, and there’s no way they’ll be able to stay there, even if they want to.

“We might be able to get some sleep down here first,” he says instead.

“Not sure how much sleep I’d actually be able to get with...” Martin trails off, glancing over to where Jonah Magnus’s body lies. “And what if he comes back?”

“Both excellent points. Upwards, then. And let’s hope there’s nothing worse waiting for us than Basira.”

They manage to get to their feet. Jon isn’t sure who assists whom, but they struggle up together. Before they start to move, though, Jon tugs Martin around and hugs him again. He’s not sure he’s quite ready to head through the tunnels, through the Spiral’s domain, and up to the undoubted chaos awaiting them in the Institute. He just wants another moment of quiet. And more than that...he just needs to reassure himself, again, that Martin is here, solidly present and warm and safe, or at least as safe as they can be in the world they inhabit.

Martin hugs him back, just as tightly. Jon can feel the same emotions roiling through him as he does, relief and love and the lingering remnants of fear. He tries to shut them out, tries to do Martin the courtesy of not prying into his brain, until he realizes that it’s not his abilities as the Archivist, it’s simply that Martin’s feeling those emotions so strongly that anyone who knew him could pick up on them. It may also have to do with the fact that he’s shaking slightly.

“Has anyone touched you since you...came back?” Martin asks in his ear. He sounds a little sad.

It takes Jon a moment to realize what Martin means. “I did get a hug from Melanie right before she...resigned. Other than that, nothing very pleasant.” He looks up at Martin, whose eyes radiate so much sympathy it almost hurts. “You?”

“That’s on me. And I don’t...you need that, Jon. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I could have...asked someone.” It’s ridiculous, and Jon knows it, and he knows Martin knows it. Basira is prickly and stoic and very much not the touchy-feely type, and Melanie was angry with him for so long, partly because of the bullet in her leg and partly because Jon was a convenient target for her feeling of being trapped. And while he and Daisy have come to an accord, she’s got her own traumas and neuroses to deal with and Jon’s never been sure where the line between his needs and hers might lie. Once upon a time he might have been able to count on Georgie for at least a few friendly touches, but, well, that bridge was well and truly burnt. But he won’t let Martin blame himself for this. “Let’s just agree that we both need to agree to stop ignoring our needs in favor of protecting the people around us and practice being a little kinder to ourselves, hmm?”

Martin’s lips twitch in a smile. “I promise to ask next time before I assume I know what the best thing to do to protect you is.”

Warmth flows through Jon, and he returns the smile. “And I promise to do the same.”

Martin bends over and presses his forehead against Jon’s. Jon closes his eyes, feeling calm soak through him. It’s probably a ridiculous thing to feel, as the likelihood that things are going to be all right even for a little while is slim to none, but he’ll take it while he can.

Whatever is coming, Jon is sure it’s nothing they can’t face together.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Perhaps love is like the ocean, full of conflict, full of pain Like a fire when it's cold outside or thunder when it rains If I should live forever and all my dreams come true My memories of love will be of you...

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #ollie writes fanfic

17 notes · View notes

starrypawz · 5 months

Text

AO3 Have some gentle domming content everyone as Gerry deserves to be softly dommed as a treat

Gerry’s moans trail off into whimpering gasps but Nemo doesn’t relent, not just yet as they continue to ride him, tight around his cock as their nails drag over his chest seemingly wanting to take everything he has as he continues to cum(The last coherent bit of his mind does wonder how he's still cumming) and finally… finally he’s done.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me,” Nemo’s voice is soft and further turns his brain to mush as he swims in the sensation that comes from when there’s nothing beyond pleasing Nemo. No matter how long it takes and how much is wrenched out of him he’d stay like this forever if he could.

A palm runs over his collarbone and he squirms. Nemo chuckles as they kiss him on the tip of the nose as he manages a weak chuckle that trails into a whine of protest even if by now his cock is starting to ache from that blissful torment he’s been subjected to as Nemo shifts off him and he’s left there shaking, a little marked up , flushed, panting and slightly cum splattered and utterly spent as Nemo brought him to the edge and wouldn’t let him over so many times he lost count.

Shakily he shifts himself up to kneel on the bed and Nemo reaches out to gently tease the red, slick head of his cock and he whimpers as it twitches against Nemo’s fingers “Cute-” and then teases the sensitive skin of his stomach and then gives a strained as Nemo takes their cum slick fingers into their mouth and then they swipe again against his stomach and place their fingers on his lips and he eagerly moans as he takes Nemo’s fingers into his mouth and Nemo teases him for a long moment before they pull back and he’s left there a little stunned and drooling. Nemo kisses him softly on the lips, the nose and the forehead before he watches them move and settle against the pillows.

And then Nemo beckons him with a finger and he crawls up the bed and he takes his place and rests his head against their thigh.

Nemo sighs softly as they reach out to run their nails against his scalp and he leans into the touch with a pleased whimper.

“There we go-”

They’re like that for and then Gerry gently nudges Nemo’s thigh with his nose as they rub his back.

“Yes?”

“You haven’t cum-”

“I know,” Nemo ruffles his hair before they rub his back again, “I don’t mind I wanted to make you feel good,”

“I’d like to make you cum,” He kisses softly, “Please–”

Nemo chuckles, “Well you did say please,” Nemo ruffles his hair again, “And you’ve been such a good boy-”

Gerry squirms, not sure how he’s able to blush right now as he buries his face into Nemo’s thigh, and Nemo chuckles and sighs.

“Go on then,”

There’s a few moments where they shift position, Gerry gently moving Nemo and settling himself down.

He gently parts Nemo’s legs, runs his hands up their thighs and then teases between their legs and gives an awed chuckle “I.. woah,” as they run a finger along the mess on their thighs,.

“Yeah,” Nemo grins as he looks up at them, “You filled me up good,” and then moans as they watch Gerry take his fingers into his mouth with a pleased hum before he licks along Nemo’s thighs to clean up his handiwork.

And then he slips his tongue into Nemo’s hole as seeks more, Nemo gently grabs his hair as his palms keep Nemo right where he wants them. Their combined tastes are an unusual thing but something he’s found tastes so good as he greedily takes Nemo as they squirm and softly moan as he for a lack of a better word feasts.

“That’s it… that’s it… oh fuck-” That fuck trails off into a long whine as he turns his attentions to Nemo’s clit and Nemo gives a sobbing moan as they push his head down and rut against his face and he continues to eagerly, greedily eat them out as he hears his name tumble over and over from Nemo’s lips.

As much as he wants to keep going forever he has to pause for air, pants as he swaps over to his fingers to keep teasing Nemo ever closer to the edge and then he shifts, kneels as he pulls Nemo up so their legs are over his shoulders and Nemo’s laughs and it soon trails back into moans as he gets back to the task at hand and then finally finally Nemo’s over the edge and a shaking mess when Gerry gently lays them back down.

“Fuck-” Nemo almost squeaks. Whatever persona from earlier is long gone by this point.

Gerry licks his lips slightly and chuckles before he gives Nemo a smug grin, “I made you squirt-”

“I know,” Nemo’s voice is a little weak as they shudder pale skin flushed before Gerry’s over them again as he gently kisses them and Nemo clings to him.

“Shower?” He breathes once they pull apart for air.

“If you carry me,” Nemo chuckles weakly.

And he does.

#gerry keay #gerry delano #tma nemo #attempts at smuttery

7 notes · View notes

gretchensinister · 4 years

Text

An Archer, Of Course, Is Familiar With Loopholes

Right after TMA 173, Martin and Jon encounter two beings, neither people nor avatars, who’ve decided to take care of at least one part of the general awfulness that’s going on. Cameo by Helen. This IS a crossover and if you know me it probably IS what you expect.

***

The incident occurs shortly before Martin and Jon leave the domain of the Dark. They haven’t seen anyone for a while, nor anything that might have been anyone under better circumstances. But then, suddenly, they do. There wasn’t anything for the pair to have walked out from behind, no feature of the landscape that would have allowed it, but, well...it is dark. Though one of the pair is, in fact, shining, and it seems logical that they would have been visible from quite a long way off.

Oh well, stranger things, and all that. But the one that’s shining seems very much as though they shouldn’t be allowed, here. Their companion, on the other hand, seems as though they should be blending into the landscape, but they aren’t. There’s something not allowed about them, too, though they’re even darker than...well...the Dark.

Martin narrows his eyes, trying to make sense of them on his own, first. He doesn’t come up with anything. “Jon? Are those people, or what, that we’re approaching?”

“Not people,” Jon replies at once. “They’re—” He groans and presses his hands to the sides of his head. “Not avatars, either, but it’s—very difficult to explain.”

Martin is about to ask another question when the other pair gets within earshot...or something.

Was this what you were going for, though? If it was, I should have hit you harder.

The voice is soundless, manifesting directly in his brain, and that should be disturbing, like so much else about the world now, but instead it makes him...sleepy? He hasn’t needed to sleep since before, and now...this is real sleepiness. A real human sensation. It feels bizarrely good to have a normal human need again. He yawns hugely, and the shining figure (who he can now see is very short) gives him a dazzling smile. But no, not a human smile.

“You should have hit me harder anyway; I murdered you,” the dark one (the much taller one) says, and they sound so normal (aside from what they’re saying) Martin almost wants to laugh. “And no? I mean, this is all…” They take a deep breath and roll their shoulders. “I mean, I can’t deny that whatever we’re going to do here, it’s going to be very easy for me. I’m not going to have any power problems. But I do have standards! This isn’t really fun. And I respect blankets. It’s bad form, otherwise. So. No. I admit. No. Because I have standards.”

Anything else? The bright one gives him a cheeky grin.

“And because I have you, my dearest opposing cosmic force.”

They’re only a few meters away from Martin and Jon now, and when Martin looks over at Jon, he looks like he’s having the world’s worst headache. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t hold anything back about the question, and Martin feels the wake of it, wants to start explaining his part in this quest from the point he decided to lie on his CV. Only with effort does he manage to keep himself quiet, but even the effort doesn’t distract him from the little secret (as secret as anything can be, considering) thrill that always runs through him when Jon doesn’t hold himself in check, when he realizes how careful Jon is being at all other times. But the pair—the couple—sure, why not, stranger things, etc.—don’t react at all. As if they were simply unavailable to Jon’s power. When they do answer, it’s as if they’re people answering the question of an ordinary person.

Curiously, this doesn’t bring Martin any fear.

We just wanted to make sure you weren’t us, the bright one says. Certain parallels, certain depictions, the world full of fear—we had to check; it’s important to keep track of these things. I suppose there’s probably an us here, but they’re not you. They turn and looks up at the dark one. But also—well, you can explain this part, Pitch.

The dark one—Pitch—rolls their eyes. “Very well. I suppose I can’t worry about my reputation when I’m not even supposed to be here. Anyway. When we came here we could tell what was going on with the kids, and…yes, even from my perspective it’s not right, it’s no way to live. It’s all…too real. So I’m going to get them all out of here.” They put air quotes around the word “get.” “I’m the expert in that, you could say. And I will return them when they won’t be coming back to this.” They gesture around. “When they come back maybe more of them will even stay put after being tucked in, eat their vegetables, etc. Though it’ll be somewhat complicated to teach anything after getting so many. Then again, it does feel like I’m a battery being charged by a supernova while I’m here, so. Maybe I will be able to do it.”

“Who are you?” Jon asks, and Martin now has the feeling that Jon isn’t being careful right now because he can’t, as if the presence of these two beings is like putting a powerful magnet next to some complex piece of electronics, making it go haywire. And this isn’t even going into any of the things they’ve said.

“I don’t actually have to answer that question, even when you do…whatever it is that you do,” Pitch says. They shrug. “I can’t actually tell what it is. So, as much as I love attention…I wonder, is it refreshing, to have someone just say no, when you ask something? Or does it make you…nervous?” They laugh. “I can’t tell, myself. Ordinarily I’d be able to. Turnabout is fair play, I guess. Anyway, we’re taking the children.”

Martin finally finds his voice. “How do we know where you’re taking them won’t be worse? To know all the kids would be…okay, for the duration…sorry, but it’s hard to trust that much of an improvement in things.”

Pitch turns to him. “Let me put it this way. I’m just as aware as your partner of what this world’s children are experiencing right now, and I have tens of thousands of years more existence-experience to understand it. Coming with me will be a distinct change in circumstances for all of them, and that change, by definition, is going to be an improvement.” They sigh. “Look, my place is mostly a horrible cave, but it’s got plenty of room and I can mold it into something livable fairly easily. The children won’t even have nightmares every time they sleep because my better half won’t allow it.”

Now, now, we can’t think of ourselves as two halves of one being, the bright one says. It makes the other Guardians more nervous than anything else we do.

“Guardians,” Jon mutters. “When I spoke with Gerry, he explained—was he wrong? Please answer, I—”

I’m sorry, the bright one says in their minds. Not in this world. Not in the same way. At least…no, I don’t know, I can’t tell. But there are more things possible than you understand. After all, Pitch and I were human once, too.

“And now look at you! Not even bothering with ear holes, or human proportions, or, well, a lot of human things, really.”

Helen is not really a surprise at this point, Martin decides.

Helen!

Though maybe the little bright one knowing her is, he amends.

“How did we manage to run into someone you already know here?” Pitch asks, sounding for all the world like a long-suffering introvert with an extrovert spouse.

Oh, you know, gold and yellow, dreams and madness. Dreamland has a lot of interesting neighbors.

On one level, Martin knows this could be important. If the new beings—and even Helen, really—keep talking, he and Jon might gain some more insight about the apocalypse. But Jon looks worse than ever, and since Helen is asking the beings why they didn’t bring her any sand, of all things, he’d really prefer this little tête-à-tête to wrap up tout suite. “We’re done here,” he interrupts, as forcefully as he can. Which he knows isn’t very, but…somehow it works this time. He wraps a supportive arm around Jon’s waist. “Look,” he says to the two beings. “I know I don’t understand all this, but you need to leave. I guess I believe you about the kids, that it really…couldn’t be worse. So…yeah. Don’t bring them back until it’s better.”

They both nod, and then the little one takes a sudden step towards him and Jon. “No, Sandy,” Pitch says, grabbing their shoulder. “You can’t touch them. If it did anything—you can tell it’s not allowed.”

Sandy (apparently) closes their eyes and sighs soundlessly. I know. It has to play out first. But it looks so unbalanced right now. They open their eyes and glance up to Pitch before fixing their gaze on Martin and Jon in turn. And yet. I wish you well.

“Well. Thanks,” says Martin. “But if that was the thing you do, I couldn’t feel it do anything.”

I guess I should’ve expected that.

“Come on, Sandy,” Pitch says. “Let’s get the kids.”

They walk deeper into The Dark, with nothing more said to Martin and Jon. Sandy doesn’t dim at all, despite what they’re going into, and Martin wonders a little bit more about what kind of powers he and Jon just couldn’t feel. Helen and her door goes with them, and Martin hears her say one last thing before the distance grows too much: “I won’t tell you not to worry, but Martin is one to watch, you know?” Whatever that means. At least Jon is able to support more of his own weight now, and seems less likely to have his head explode.

“Let’s start putting some distance between us and them,” Jon says, though he’s not yet standing on his own. “It wouldn’t matter, usually, but…I don’t want to know what they’re doing, and I think I can manage that the farther we are from them.”

“All right,” Martin says.

After a few minutes of walking (stumbling forward) and thinking, Martin muses aloud: “The way Pitch said ‘get,’ talking about nightmares, about kids staying tucked in, etc…like, were they just your bog-standard childhood boog—”

“Don’t say it,” Jon says. “I think I can forget that encounter and for the kids…I need to. We can’t talk about it. I can’t think about the potential existence of any other…kinder…world. Where they’d be the only one ever grabbing at anyone’s ankles from under the bed.”

“So we just assume that the situation with the kids is the same as how we left them,” Martin says.

“You can feel how easy it is to remember things that way,” Jon says. “If you let it happen.”

“Just tape over the last half hour?”

“Hah,” Jon says. “Exactly.”

#I was contractually obligated to write this #blacksand #pitch black #sanderson mansnoozie #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #rise of the guardians #helen distortion

28 notes · View notes