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tickled-2-death · 3 months

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I saw your post about tma tickle requests and I have literally never thought about lonelyeyes tickles, but now I need to see Elias brought down a peg or six by his ex-ex-ex husband(soon to add another ex) who's probably at least semi-transparent and covered in fog. Bonus points for all the sass!

Attitude Adjustment

Content warnings: unhealthy relationship, dubious consent(?), tickle torture, begging, feet content specifically, not necessarily sexual but sexual acts are mentioned.

This is a tickle fic.

“Peter, I have told you this several times before, and I will only repeat myself this once. I am not going anywhere near that pathetic boat.”

Elias just can’t seem to catch a fucking break today. First it was some shipment issue at the Archives, namely involving those two identical circus freaks with some mysterious box. Then, once they finally convinced him to sign off on it (he’ll just replace whoever dies in artifact storage, no big deal), there was some petty little catfight in the archives itself. One that he, despite all the paperwork that needed to be sorted, had to go downstairs and tell Jonathan off about. That’s not to mention that his coffee was cold by the time he got back, and-

“Darling, my love, my light. You’re thinking too hard.”

… and his husband, one Mr. Peter “just fuck off out to sea and forget it all” Lukas, simply will not shut up.

Elias pinches the bridge of his nose, propped up in their lavish bed in his silk pajamas, by all means in a position to relax that he intends not to spoil.

“I can’t stand the smell”, he begins to explain, “I cant stand the Lonely, and honestly the thought of being trapped on a giant metal hunk of rubbish with you for several months on end makes me want to disappear already.”

Peter, despite his patron and what you’d expect as a result of it, nearly never stops smiling. It’s a smug little shit sort of smile, mind you, but it hardly ever leaves his face. As of now, it droops into a frown.

“Elias, if we’re going to beat our record of staying married for four months-“

“Five months. Five months is the record.”

The captain sighs.

“If we’re going to make this work for more than five months, we’ve got to accept one another’s help! I’m just trying to think of a way to cheer you up, to get some of that tension out of you, in the only way I know how!”

Elias considers this, and ultimately decides that his husband is right. He’s a snarky bastard, even worse than Elias himself at times, but he’s trying to do the right thing. It’s the thought that counts? Right???

It doesn’t really matter. 200 years and counting, and he’s never been interested in admitting his own faults. Why start now? Especially for Peter goddamn Lukas.

So the shrewish little Beholder pulls out his bitchiest of bitch voices, and simply replies; “Well, you’d hardly like it if I recommended you to take someone’s statement, or delve into someone’s personal life for an ounce of fear, now would you?”, before rolling over and turning off his bedside lamp.

Something within Peter snaps just then. Not genuine anger, or at least not the violent sort. No, it’s simply the sudden and undeniable urge to teach someone a lesson. Elias’ eyes go wide, having Known what was about to happen, but it’s too late.

Peter roughly digs his fingers into his husband’s ribs, and vibrates them between the bones with all his might.

“OH FUCK-“ is all the poor, helpless man can manage before descending into mad cackles against his will. His dignity would never allow such a boisterous display of emotion, but there’s hardly a chance to suppress it in this position.

Instinctively, he rolls onto his stomach to escape the horrific sensation at his side. However, this proves to be the worst thing he could’ve possibly done, because Peter takes the opportunity to straddle his ass and get both sides at once.

“PEHEHETER! YOU- STOHAHAP THIS AT OHAHANCE! NOW!” Elias demands through several squeals, drumming his bare feet against the mattress behind them. Hands desperately grabbing for purchase or perhaps Peter’s dastardly wrists.

He doesn’t let up, of course, and that smile is back with a vengeance.

“Hmm- what was that kinky sex term you told me about? Where you punish someone for talking back?” Peter asks, tone jovial and unclear as to whether the question is genuine or rhetorical.

Elias, in turn, accidentally projects the answer into his mind. Mouth otherwise occupied with screams of ticklish agony.

“Brat taming, that’s right! Are you going to stop being a brat, Elias? Or is your significantly larger, stronger husband going to have to tickle you until you cry? We both know I’m well trained in regards to tying knots, so you’d better keep that in mind.”

Deciding to give the ribs a bit of a break, lest he accidentally bruise them, Peter jams his fingers into Elias’ sensitive underarms. It’s absolutely delightful, the way he screams even louder and clamps his arms to his sides. As if that will help, now that the offending digits are trapped exactly where they shouldn’t be.

“NOW! YOUHOHOHOL STOP RIHIGHT NOW! I DEHEHEE- DEMAHAHAND IT!!!” Elias tries to compel, but the concentration required to do so simply isn’t there.

Peter continues to burrow his fingertips into Elias’ armpits, wiggling and scritching across the ultra sensitive skin like worms trying to dig into the earth. He flails as much as humanly possible, twisting and snorting up a storm all the while, but Peter’s legs hold firm to his hips. He’s stuck, and completely at the other avatar’s mercy.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep on like this, love. That is, until you apologize, and whatever comes out of your mouth even now can and will be held against you. So let’s fix that attitude, yeah?”

Elias’ laugh goes silent, eyes screwed shut rendering his powers completely useless. Not that they weren’t already, but now he can’t even read Peter’s thoughts.

Mercifully, the tickling comes to a stop after about five straight minutes of torture. Elias takes the opportunity to breath, and to pout, while Peter continues to ramble on.

“Not going to say anything, then? That’s alright, I’ve got another place in mind. Remember that one time you asked for a foot massage, and every time I pressed too light you’d kick and tell me to do better? Well, if you can’t handle a massage I’d hate to see how you’ll handle ten fingers intentionally tickling you.”

Elias uses what little of his strength he’s got left to buck his hips. Nothing happens, so he begins to thrash any way he can, kicking and babbling out a mantra of “nononono”-

But Peter is quick, and built tough like the boat that stared this whole argument. It takes about two seconds for him to turn around, placing all his weight on the trapped ankles of his smart-mouthed partner. He cracks his knuckles, gives a quick wink in Elias’ direction, and scribbles his fingers up two shaking soles.

Elias cries out, pounding his fists against the mattress. “NNOOHOHO! PETERPETERPETER- GEHEET OOHOFF- I CAHANT!”

“Are you pleading with me?” He responds, otherwise uncaring and unwavering in his assault. He wiggles his nails against the soles of one foot, and digs in between the toes of the other.

Even now, there is the slightest hesitation. But when he adjusts his position so that he can rub his beard against Elias’ trapped feet, all remaining pride goes out the window and into the endless Vast.

“PLEHEHASEPLEASEPLEASE- SOHAHA- SORRY! DAHARLINGPLEASE-“

“Trying to appeal to my humanity, darling? I should be offended you’d use such language just to get away from me and my glorious facial hair”.

Tears stream down Elias’ face. The scruffy hairs rubbing against his soles is just too much to handle. So he does the unthinkable and gives up.

“PEHEHEETEERRRR-“ is all he can manage, all he can think in the midst of this hell, and somehow it’s enough for him to get the message.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, love, let me help.” Peter soothes, giggling at the little twitches he evokes by firmly rubbing Elias’ feet of residual tingles.

Elias, on the other hand, is utterly spent. He feels heavy as a sack of bricks, completely limp and hiccuping like a maniac. Once his awful, evil husband has decided that his feet can be left alone, he starts to rub his back.

“Poor, mean little thing you are. So sensitive for such a powerful man.” Peter coos, and despite himself Elias falls asleep to the sound of his voice and comforting feel of his hands.

#tma tickles #tma tickle fic #ticklish Elias bouchard #ler Peter lukas #lee Elias bouchard #Elias bouchard tickles #Peter lukas tickles

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residentsocialfailure · 3 years

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Thoughts on MAG 190

because I have many, and I’m so excited this show is finally back.

God, hearing that intro again. Gives me chills. I missed this.

Lowri! Helen! For some reason I was thinking they might have only been a part of the trailer, without actually being major characters. I’m so happy I was wrong. Fucking love them. Helen has always been, and always will be, my favorite Rusty Quiller.

“They sometimes go to a side tunnel, for.. private contemplation.” 2 minutes in, and Jonny reveals that wtgfs like to sneak off to go make out. I love it.

First tape recorder appearance. Oh shit. Interesting that they eye doesn’t work super well in the tunnels, yet it still appears. Hmmm.

“First name terms with The Prophets. Bit disrespectful.” Oh, I missed his sass. Jon is so good.

Hiding out in Leitner’s old haunt. Interesting. I wonder if there are any of his books still lying around, and if the fearpocalypse has affected them at all.

“Celia?” Martin recognizes her? Is she the same girl Lowri played in MAG 100?

Oh, I missed Melanie so much. She’s so good, and her disdain for Jon is wonderful. God, I hope nothing bad happens to her.

Helen is Melanie’s therapist! That’s amazing. I love it.

I don’t know why Georgie trying repeatedly to destroy the never-ending tape recorders is so funny to me, but it is.

I’m so glad they’re getting to talk. I missed Georgie, and her not really being there for Jon in S4 always made me kind of sad. I mean, it was totally understandable. and she had to do what was best for her too, but still. I’m glad that she’s acknowledging it though, and saying that she wasn’t really being fair to Jon, and didn’t understand what was really going on. I just love all of these people so much. I feel like this exchange is probably really important for Jon too.

An endless supermarket? That’s super convenient. Just trying to figure out how that would work as a fearscape. Husbands who were sent to the store by their wives and can’t remember what to get? Broke college students who are trying to put together a meal with no money? Feeling judged for your purchases, thinking the employees are watching you and know that you don’t know how to cook. Or something. Or maybe it’s for the retail workers. Feeling like your boss is constantly watching you, waiting for you to make a mistake. Yeah, that makes more sense. Probably some of all of the above.

The Admiral!!! I kind of love/hate that he’s just chilling, going hunting 24/7. Like I’m glad he’s happy. But it’s so sad that he doesn’t recognize Georgie. That must be really difficult. I wonder what specifically he’s hunting. Other cats? Mice? Birds? People who are afraid of cats?

“The Snoop God’s favorite kid”

“Now my therapist thinks I’m the chosen one.” All jokes aside (because it did make me laugh) that must be a super weird dynamic, for both of them. Like, hey, you know everything about me, and how completely flawed I am. You helped me get through some very dark periods, and now I’m apparently the savior of your world or something. And thinking your “prophet” is somebody who you saw in such a way, has to be wild. I’m interested to see if they’re going to delve more into this relationship, because it could be really interesting.

I also really, really, love that Martin and Melanie are able to have this time to just talk. They’ve both gone through so much. And yeah, they were never super close in the before-times. But they still understand each other, in a way I think not a lot of people could, who haven’t worked in the Archives. And they’re just hanging out, chatting about their love lives. It’s so wholesome and good.

“I’m the anti-christ’s plus one.” Oh my goodness Martin. This made me laugh so hard. I feel like that’s going to be A Thing in the fandom.

How weird must that be though, to have people look up to you like that? I can’t blame her at all for lying about the vision. She’s just trying to give them hope, and something bright to look forward to. But it’s also really hard. Because it is a lie, and does put her on a pedestal. It’s a really difficult situation, and there’s not really any good answers on how to handle that. But I can’t imagine the stress that must put on you. Feeling so responsible for these people, who have nothing, and who’s lives you literally saved. And who look up to you like you can solve all your problems, when you have no idea what you’re doing. It must be so hard.

That being said, the cringe I just experienced from “Blind Prophet”. Just. So much no.

I love hearing Melanie talk about Georgie though. She’s so in love and it’s so sweet.

Oh no. Daisy. And the pain is back. The whiplash I’m going through in this conversation. And Spiral Helen. I’m glad that Jonny put that in there though. Helen was just such a good, good, character.. In that her whole point was making you think she was on your side. And she did that to the point that a lot of people, including me, actually started to think maybe she was. This was a good reminder that no. She really was evil, she was just also really good at manipulation. It’s easy to forget sometimes, and to think maybe she didn’t deserve to die, and they could’ve saved her. But it wouldn’t have worked out, Jon knew what he was doing.

Cold baked beans. Delicious. I guess they can’t really make a fire in the tunnels. And obviously no electricity. Seems quite unpleasant though.

”Even if her problems were sometimes... odd.” I don’t remember, did we ever get context for how much she actually told her?

”But you’ve got to have hope in something. Otherwise there’s no point to anything. So, I choose to have hope in them. [...] Times like these, it just helps to believe. I’m not sure it really matters what.”

Anil!! I love him so much. I do wish we got some Arun/Martin bonding time though. I need them to talk about their favorite poets and discuss interpretations of various poems or something. I don’t know, I’m not really a big poetry person, but they both are, and I think they would get along pretty well, if Martin isn’t too put off by the religious part.

He also did sort of bring up a point I had been thinking about. And definitely not thinking this is in any way foreshadowing of anything, or that this is at all something that will come up. It’s just my own personal thoughts. “Maybe your powers feed on hope. On faith, and trust, and hope.” I feel like everything in the universe has an opposite, to a certain extent. And I feel like it makes sense that the fears would have an opposite as well. That there would be some sort of powers of hope or something. Not even necessarily in a good vs evil sort of way, because I feel like that’s an over simplification, and not at all really realistic.Nothing in real life is that black and white. But the fears came to exist because they were something people believed in. Not in like a faith way. But just in a way that it’s something that people thought and focused on enough to give it power. And I feel like that would work for hopes and dreams too. It only makes sense to me that if fearing something so much gives it power to turn into an actual, god-like, entity. Well, people dream about things just as much as they fear other things. I don’t know. I feel like someone smarter and better with words than I am could explain my thought process better. Just an idea that I had, that, as I said, I do not believe will at all come up, or exists at all in this universe. It’s not even really a headcanon. Just thoughts.

Final Thoughts:

This episode was so good? It was much more light-hearted than I was expecting, but in a really good way. I loved just hearing everybody reconnect, and have actual conversations with their friends. I forgot how much I missed these people, and how good everyone is. 10/10, absolutely loved. I’m exited to see what comes next, if a bit nervous. Obviously this was a good episode to ease back in, but the pain will be coming pretty soon. I am curious, there are apparently seven members of the cult, and we only met three, not including wtgfs, so five. I wonder if we’ll recognize the other two, or if they’re just not that important. Also wondering what the plan is for Jon, as he still doesn’t really know what to do. Is he just going to hang out for a bit? Have a chance to relax, like they did at Salesa’s? Wondering if they’re going to leave of their own volition, and decide it’s time to get a move on, or if something will happen to force them out. It’s clearly more dangerous for the cult now that Jon is there, and, ascaves much as Georgie cares about him, I don’t think she’ll let them stay if she thinks they’re an active danger. Anyways, I’m so, so excited that TMA is back, and I can’t wait to hear what comes next.

#tma spoilers #the magnus archives spoilers #rusty quill spoilers #the magnus archives #tma #mag 190 #scavengers

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aflyingcontradiction · 3 years

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The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 139 - Chosen

Smart move on your part. They always are, aren’t they? Smart moves. Someday you’re going to push your luck too far, and when you do… well you just better hope it isn’t Jude who comes to collect. - Statement of Eugene Vanderstock

She did and it wasn't. I assume Elias was a more merciful murderer than Jude would have been.

Anyone who talks about “the Blitz spirit” wasn’t there, or wants to paper over their fear with nostalgia. Terrible things happened in the Blackout, and we hurt each other just as much as the Germans hurt us.

You know, I think there's a ring of truth to this line. Even having only delved into this topic on a very shallow level, I am already aware of plenty of - hm, how to put this - internal backstabbing, mostly of the non-violent kind, but I'm pretty sure the other kind existed, too. People in a crisis don't just develop a uniform spirit of solidarity. That's just not how people work. There might be a little bit of solidarity between unexpected people, but where there's an ingroup, there's an outgroup. In a war that may be the people actually bombing you, sure, but it may well be your neighbours who are doing a little bit better than you or who have expressed some doubts about your favourite leader's policies. (On a personal note: I have already seen people talking about the early pandemic days in a way that makes it sound like there was some sort of universal all-encompassing spirit of solidarity and the sheer rose-tintedness of those glasses makes me want to VOMIT. Way to sweep all the crisis-induced interpersonal conflict under a rug and pretend it didn't cause some people horrible pain and trauma. If, a few decades from now, I see anyone using the term "covid spirit" in an analogous way to "Blitz spirit" I swear I'm going to absolutely lose it.)

He wanted a grand inferno, a ritual of apocalyptic burning that would make the firebombing of Dresden look like a sparkler. Which sounded… amazing. But a few of us pointed out that the Allied air force had a tad more firepower than we did, as none of us were likely to make the rank of Air Marshal anytime soon.

Oh god, I would love to be a fly on the wall for THAT conversation, the sheer levels of snark in that room must have been off the scales.

Some objected, said that unless the child was conceived of the flame, it could never be a true incarnation. But they had no idea of how such a conception could possibly even work, so it was decided that it would have to be enough to birth the child by fire.

"But the father was just some guy, the child will never be the true chosen one if she isn't conceived by flame." "Okay, buddy, get back to me when you've figured out how to FUCK FIRE!"

She was quiet, considerate, but prone to fits of violent rage, which, while not unexpected given what burned inside her, still made living in a single location for any length of time untenable.

... "not unexpected given what burned inside her"??? More like "not unexpected given that literally every caregiver she has ever had has been a violent sadist who treated her like a symbol rather than a human being and she has never once experienced actual love and care, learn some basic childcare, you absolute arse!" I'd be prone to fits of violent rage, too!

Arthur tried to frame all this as a test of faith, and declared that those who we lost raising Agnes had been found wanting in their devotion to the Lightless Flame. Prick. She was just a brat.

I have a visceral dislike of the word "brat" because certain people (*cough* my stepdad *cough*) regularly use it as short-hand for "A small child who actually has human needs and expresses them in the only way their still-developing linguistic and emotional abilities will allow them to". And if you disregard the supernatural element, that is pretty much the exact way Eugene uses it here and that, more than the fact that he's a sadistic murderer, makes me want to FUCKING STRANGLE THE GUY!

I took foreign workers, mostly, those with the fewest connections to complicate matters, and the most hopeful dreams of what their life might be.

TMA gets really on-the-nose with its politics in season 5 but it is undeniably political even earlier than that and this isn't exactly what I would call SUBTLE (mind you, this is an observation, not a complaint).

Maybe they assumed it was some long, torturous plan, and she was simply building the kindling for a bonfire of aching loss and suffering such as we had never before seen. And I suppose, in a way, she was. Just not the one any of us expected.

Heh. The worshippers of the Desolation, utterly desolated.

I’m curious to see what it was she did to derail this big ritual, because I’m sure she didn’t pay poor Jack Barnabas to fall in love with Agnes. ... Well, ninety percent sure. - Jon

I see. Jon's starting to have the same "Well, you never know with her" feeling that I do.

God knows. It’s not like I don’t have my own office politics to keep track of.

I feel like Jon is perhaps having his own moment of "Damn, I would need a corkboard and some string to figure this out" about all things Lightless Flame. I certainly am!

Every other Avatar gets to have their feelings burned right out of them, but me? I’ve just got to sit in mine.

That's actually very untrue. Most of the avatars are full to the brim with the feels and you can easily tell that even from the little insight into their psychology that we get through the statements and the occasional personal interaction. So I'm not sure what the hell Jon is even talking about here, but it's clearly some frustrated nonsense.

My impression of this episode

The internal dynamics of the Cult of the Lightless Flame are, quite frankly, fascinating. They're all just stumbling around in separate directions, trying to convince the rest of the cult that their idea of "Asag" is the truth. It's amazing. And then there's Agnes, of course, who is just ... well, I have a soft spot for her. Pushed into a role that was chosen for her before she was even born and only allowed to leave that role on death - a death she chose because she didn't think she could fit that role anymore. Agnes deserved better!

#tma relisten #the magnus archives

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haberdashing · 4 years

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Open Up My Eager Eyes

TMA fic set just after MAG 168. Jon and Martin have an important talk about what once was and what might have been.

on AO3

They didn’t speak much right after Jon returned, but the tension in the air was palpable as they made their way forwards, the only sounds that of their footsteps crunching against what passed for ground here and the whispers of the dying.

Eventually, Jon couldn’t stand it anymore, so he stopped walking, turning towards Martin as he said, “Can we... let’s talk.”

“About what?” Martin’s tone was a little sharp, but he stood still as well, looking Jon in the eye as he did so.

“You know, the whole jealousy thing.”

Martin’s face tensed up, and he made a show of breaking eye contact with Jon as he said, “I think we’ve talked quite enough about that already, thanks.”

“No, not... look, we already discussed how you’re jealous of Oliver Banks for, for some reason, and how I’m not going to kill a man just because you’re jealous of him-”

Martin scrunched up his nose in a way that would be patently adorable if he wasn’t currently trying to convince Jon to murder someone. “He’s not really a man anymore, though, is he? I mean, that’s kind of the point.”

“Martin, if just being an avatar of a fear god during, well, this, is enough for somebody to deserve getting killed in your mind... I’d like you to think a bit about what that implies about me.”

Martin blinked a few times and furrowed his brow, thinking for a few seconds in silence before letting out a long, solemn breath. “Alright, yeah, point taken.”

“Besides, if you just let me explain what actually happened, maybe you’ll understand that there’s really no reason for you to be jealous of...” Jon tried to hold back the laughter in his voice, but a bit of it sneaked through just the same as he finished, “...of Oliver Banks, of all people.”

“I mean, you did wake up for him and not for me, though. That’s just a fact.”

“It wasn’t... it wasn’t for him, is the thing. Because of him, maybe, but not for him.”

“Fine, because of him, then. But he- he still did something for you there, then. Something I clearly couldn’t.”

Jon threw his hands in the air. “Yes, because he was an avatar of death! Look, if you’re really that desperate to throw away your humanity, feel free to give Annabelle Cane a ring, I’m sure she’d be glad to hook you up-”

“Jon...”

“I... It was a joke. I was joking.” That wasn’t entirely accurate, truth be told--Jon kept wondering if that was Annabelle Cane’s endgame in all of this, recruiting Martin to her side--but that was a very different conversation to be had than the current one, and not one Jon terribly felt like delving into at the moment.

“Sure.” Martin sounded less than convinced.

“It’s not like I- I cared more about Oliver Banks than you, or anything like that, if that’s what you’re thinking! He just... let me know what I needed to do to wake up. Gave me information I had been lacking.”

“I thought you knew everything!”

“Now, maybe. And there’s still a few limits even now. But back then it... it wasn’t quite that simple.”

“So, what was this information he had and you didn’t?”

“He explained that, that what had happened... it left me trapped somewhere in between life and death-”

“You couldn’t have figured that much out for yourself?”

“Let me finish! At the time, I was... how did he phrase it... not human enough to die, but still too human to live. And I had to make a choice. Either I could pick my human side and just- just die, or I could give up on being human and wake up as a full-fledged avatar of the Beholding.”

“And you chose the latter?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jon let out a sharp bark of a laugh, looking around at the desolate, nightmarish landscape surrounding them before adding, “Knowing what I do know... I don’t think I made the right choice there.”

“Don’t say that!” Jon hadn’t been expecting the desperation in Martin’s voice, hadn’t been expecting him to reach out and clutch Jon’s arm as if he were going to fade away at any moment. “Don’t... don’t you dare say you want to die, alright?”

Martin looked like he was on the verge of tears, suddenly, and Jon pressed one hand against his cheek, ready to brush away any teardrops that might fall. “I mean, I don’t want to die now, I’m not suicidal. At this point, the damage has already been done. Dying now wouldn’t do anyone much good.”

Martin released his grip on Jon’s arm, but that sad, desperate look in his eyes remained all too present. “But you still think the world would be better off if you had died back then.”

“I mean...” Jon used his free hand to gesture towards the hellscape that surrounded them. “If I had, none of this would have happened. And the rest of the Archives staff would be free to leave, to escape from this mess. You would be free, Martin. Free to live your life without having to worry about any of this.”

“But without you.”

“Without me, and without being tied to an eldritch fear god, and without the apocalypse unfolding in front of you. That seems like more than a fair trade-off.”

Martin laughed, but it was a laugh more of sorrow than of levity, and Jon felt a single teardrop fall onto his finger. “After all this time, you still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“None of that matters to me if you’re not there. The only reason my working with Peter Lukas became more than just- just a death wish was because you woke up, because I could see a life for myself outside of the Lonely with you. Maybe it’s selfish--no, strike that, I know it’s selfish--but I’d rather be beside you here and now than in a world where none of this happened, but you’re not there to share it with me.”

“...thank you, Martin.” Jon broke into a shaky smile. “But even if you’re fine with how things worked out, the others-”

“-are better off with you here too.”

Jon let the hand that had been pressed against Martin’s face fall to his side, tried not to focus on how it was now shaking due to some emotion he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t see how that works.”

“Alright, let’s go through this one by one. If you hadn’t woken up, Melanie would still have a- a ghost bullet from the Slaughter stuck in her leg, right?”

“That she wanted in there!”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Right, because that’s healthy. Look, I’m not saying the way you went about things was the perfect solution, but I do think it beats doing nothing and just letting her become an avatar of unthinking violence. And if you’d died, she’d have had to find another target for all that rage...”

“...fine, let’s say for the sake of argument Melanie’s better off. There’s Basira, too.”

“Basira...” Martin bit his lip for a moment the way he often did when he was deep in thought. “I’m not sure what she would have done if you had died, honestly, but I do know she wouldn’t have gotten Daisy back without you. You’re the reason she knew Daisy was in the Buried, and you’re definitely the reason Daisy got out of there.”

“Because I jumped into a coffin where the whole idea is that once you go in, you can never come out.”

“Again, not claiming it was a great plan or anything, but it did work. You saved Basira from not knowing what really happened, from mourning a woman who was still alive. And you saved Daisy from being stuck in the Buried literally forever.”

“And now she’s succumbed to the Hunt. I can’t imagine that’s much better.”

“You were down there with her. You tell me.”

Jon’s silence as he considered this was as much of a response as any words could have been.

“Basira might have stayed, too. It’s not like she had anything left outside the Archives, after all. And if she did? Maybe I would have actually gone along with Peter’s plan and killed Elias-” Jon gave Martin a look, and Martin corrected himself. “Killed Jonah Magnus, and then she would have died. Along with everybody else who works for the Institute. Rosie from the front desk, who always greets everyone with a smile? Dead. Sonja from Artefact Storage, who actually seems to accept all of this weirdness? Dead. Hannah’s children would lose their mother. Hundreds of families would be torn apart.”

“That’s still a lot less pain and suffering than I caused by reading that damn statement. You can’t claim the world wouldn’t be better off if I hadn’t done that.”

“Okay, no, I’m not gonna come out pro-apocalypse here or anything, but... think about it. Jonah Magnus was planning all of this for two hundred years. You really think he would have given up if you died?”

Jon hadn’t thought of that, and his vision blurred as he considered the implications there.

“He would’ve found another Archivist, he would’ve made them go through hell instead, and we’d end up back here soon enough. The only way he would’ve stopped is if I killed him, a-and then Peter’d have the Panopticon for whatever the hell he really wanted it for, and maybe it’s not the same, but you can’t tell me a world under Peter Lukas’ control would really be that much better.”

“...I suppose not, no.” Jon cleared his throat as he prepared to change the subject as smoothly as he could manage. “So. Oliver Banks did what he had to do, as did I, whatever the consequences. And I’m pretty sure either option of his choice would be better than being eternally stuck watching other people’s nightmares. You’ve seen for yourself that those can be... rough on me, and that’s after just one night.”

“That’s what it was like? Just- just six months of nonstop nightmares?”

And suddenly Martin’s arms were wrapped around Jon’s body, Martin tucking his head against Jon’s shoulder, and he could feel tears dampening his jumper. Jon did his best to reciprocate, to reach out to Martin in turn, and tears of his own began to fall as well.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jon.”

“It’s fine-”

Martin looked up at Jon with a fiery gaze. “It’s not fine.”

“Well, it’s fine now. And- and maybe now you can see why I’m grateful to Oliver Banks for letting me know that I had options besides being stuck like that forever.”

“...yeah, I guess so. Though I still wish I could have been the one to help you.”

“I know you did everything you could.” Jon’s lips turned into a wry smile as he added, “I heard you, you know. The only other things I heard were statements--Oliver’s and Jonah’s, and please don’t tell me you’re going to be jealous of Jonah Magnus now-”

“Nah, I think we’ve got better reasons for killing him than that.”

“Quite.” Jon snorted. “But I heard you, at one point, too. Not a statement, of course. Just... you, talking to me. Begging me to come back. And I wanted to, I really did. But at that point, I didn’t know how.”

“...I didn’t know you heard any of that.”

“Well, we never really talked about it before. Understandably so; it’s not exactly the most pleasant of conversation topics.”

Jon leaned over, tilting his head just so before planting a kiss on Martin’s damp cheek.

“I’ve also never done that to Oliver Banks, so hopefully that will help you get over that jealousy of yours.”

Martin’s eyes were sparkling as he looked up at Jon, and only partially due to the half-formed tears still lingering in his eyes. “Hmm... I don’t know. Might need to give it a few more tries just to be sure.”

Jon raised an eyebrow as he broke into a wide grin, though he tried to keep his voice calm and level and faux-academic. “Ah, a firm believer in the scientific method. I can certainly respect that.”

And Jon kissed Martin again, and again, and again, until the kissing dissolved into a mutual fit of giggles and both their tears were well and truly gone.

#tma #tma spoilers #the magnus archives #the magnus archives spoilers #tma s5 #tma s5 spoilers #mag 168 #tma 168 #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing

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