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stephaniebrownslover · 15 days

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My Creepypasta but The Magnus Archives style AU

Okay so this is an old AU that I would like to explain and write, but my street cat is currently sick and he's requeiring all my time and energy and that's okay!

There'll be only character roles and AU explainations in this post.

Character roles and which TMA character they match;

Judge Angels//Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Police officer called upon to deal with paranormal cases

Nurse Ann//Annabelle Cane, Avatar of The Web

Zero//Basira Hussain, Police officer called upon to deal with paranormal cases

Vladimir and Zachary//Breekon and Hope, Mysterious deliverymen and servants of The Stranger

Slenderman//Elias Bouchard , Head of The Magnus Institute

Mary Vaughn//Georgie Barker, "Host of the What The Ghost?" podcast

Ben Drowned//Gerard Keay, Mary Keay’s son and acquaintance of Gertrude Robinson

Rouge//Gertrude Robinson , Former head archivist of The Magnus Institute

Nina The Killer//Helen Richardson, Real estate agent merged with the Distortion

Lulu//Jane Prentiss, Avatar of The Corruption

Masky//Jonathan Sims, Head archivist of The Magnus Institute

Clockwork//Julia Montauk, Hunter and daughter of Robert Montauk

Homicidal Liu//Jurgen Leitner, Collector of paranormal books

Hoodie//Martin Blackwood, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute

Jane The Killer//Melanie King, Proprietor of the "Ghost Hunt UK" Youtube Channel

Laughing Jack//Michael Shelley, Gertrude Robinson's assistant who was merged with The Distortion

Laughing Jill//Nikola Orsinov, Plastic mannequin created from Joseph Grimaldi

Zalgo//Peter Lukas, Avatar of The Lonely and captain of the Tundra

Kate The Chaser//Sasha James, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute

Trendderman//Simon Fairchild , Avatar of The Vast(edit:he's changed from Offenderman to Trenderman)

Ticci Toby//Timothy Stoker, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute

Eyeless Jack//Trevor Herbert, Self-proclaimed vampire hunter

Notes;

-Creepypasta characters, which are the equivalent of The Magnus Archives characters, were selected without caring about gender and the character whose personality is the most similar with TMA role was replaced with creepypasta character.

-The terms like The Stranger, The Vast, The Spiral, The Buried and blah blah and being an avatar etc. will be explained in future as in the podcast.

-Although I'm trying not to go out of personality to a large extent, there will be many things that do not fit because this is a completely different universe.

-Most of the Creepypasta characters are not killers, and some external appearance features have been arranged accordingly. If you don't like it, you don't need to read it because it's an AU. It's that simple.

-This AU is set in London, just like the podcast.

-If there is a thing that you are uncomfortable with, just don't read it. TMA is a podcast series full of really interesting horror stories, and if you're feeling uncomfortable, it's quite normal but please don't push yourself too much.

- All statements in the 200 episodes will not be mentioned in this AU. Only as much of it as will help you understand the AU will be edited into the AU.

-The dialogue is not exactly the same as in the podcast, because it will vary depending on the characters, but the critical scenes may be the same.

-I think that's it, have fun.

-And for you to have a better idea, The Magnus Archives description;

"The Magnus Archives is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team.

Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back…"

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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I haven’t read a whole lot of TMA fic, so I’m sure this already exists somewhere, but I really want a time travel fic where Jon goes back to Gertrude’s era.

So it’s 2007-ish, before his younger counterpart has started working at the Institute, but years into Elias and Gertrude’s tenure. They’re having a normal day serving the semi-omniscient fear god when a fucking full-fledged avatar of the Beholding - complete with a small mountain of tapes - falls through a rift in space-time and crash lands on Gertrude’s desk.

(Season 5 Jon might have decided not to kill Helen and instead used her to get here. If he ever sees her again they’re going to have A Talk™ about her choice of transportation.)

For the record, a hot mess of a man falling from the sky indoors is only like... the eighth most interesting thing to happen to Gertrude this week. Still, it’s clear he’s not entirely human - one gets a sense for these things, even without a giant eyeball’s help - and she’s got a knife on him faster than you can say “Statement.” This doesn’t seem to faze the man.

That annoys the fuck out of Gertrude.

Meanwhile, Elias has nearly passed out from the supernatural alarm bells going off in his head because the Ceaseless Watcher’s special little boy is here!!! What does that mean? Hell if he knows, but this man is ALIGHT with the Entities’ marks, just dripping with the power of the Eye, and Elias finds he has the sudden urge to drop to his knees before this stranger, something he’s only ever done post-Watcher’s Crown.

(This might be a Jonlias fic, whoops.)

Elias, seeing The Archivist for the first time: 😍😍😍😍😍

Gertrude, seeing The Archivist for the first time: 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

So after introductions Jon is all, “Yes, I’m an eldritch monster that’s forced to feed off the trauma of others, but I’m your eldritch monster. Please, Gertrude, I’d like nothing more than to carve out Magnus’ heart with you so he can’t destroy the whole fucking world.”

Elias, suddenly experiencing true fear for the first time in decades, feeding the Eye and being fed in turn and basically entering a feedback loop where this powerful stranger threatening to murder him is the hottest thing he’s ever Seen: !!!!! 💖💞😱!!!!!🤩😊💚!!!!!

And at first Gertrude’s like hell no, not having any more goddamn avatars in my archives thank you, but then the trio passes young intern Sasha James (shhh don’t worry if that fits the timeline) and Jon looses it. The hold that the Stranger had on him in his original timeline has broken and he’s able to recognize this as the real Sasha - her face, her voice, her very panicked looks towards her bosses as this random man sobs into her shoulder. And Gertrude’s like dammit, clearly The Archivist still has some of his humanity left. No true Fear monster would ever willingly be that embarrassing.

After prying Jon away from Sasha and promising her a raise to avoid any HR reports, they get the whole long, traumatic story out of him, but any plans to just permanently kill Elias kinda... sputter out. It’s a little bit of a Web thing, a little bit of a time travel thing, and a little bit of Jon just feeling... wrong when he considers it, no matter what he’s told Gertrude. It’s similar to when he let Annabelle live, though Elias has done absolutely fuck-all to earn his mercy. This confuses Jon, though it’s pretty far down on his list of worries.

The good news is that Jon’s mere presence puts a permanent wrench in Elias’ plans. He’s never going to repeat the ritual to open the door, obviously, and good fucking luck marking another archivist while he’s Watching. Given Jon’s suspicions that he became semi-immortal after waking from his coma, he’ll be Watching a damn long time, you megalomaniacal bastard.

The bad news is that since Elias can no longer plot an intricate manipulation, he’s decided that the next best thing is to just convince Jon to bring about the end of the world willingly.

By wooing him.

Elias: “We can be Kings of a ruined world together, Jon~”

Gertrude: “I am not paid enough for this.”

So begins the office romance comedy of Jon’s nightmares, where instead of hating him for ruining his world domination plans, Elias is smitten - in a suave, very creepy kinda way - and has decided that he’ll simply wait Jon out, wearing him down until the inevitable day when he realizes that they were meant to be. A full-fledged Archivist was dropped into his lap, ranting about how he out-foxed a future version of Elias, tormented by his own monstrosity, and people expected his narcissistic ass to not fall head over heels with his own creation?? As if.

Jon is Not Having A Good Time.

Originally when he landed here he was all, “Where is my Martin whom I love so dearly? Where is the support and companionship that I crave?” But after ‘bumping into’ him a few times outside the Institute, Jon comes to the bitter conclusion that whatever connection they had is gone. He recalls Martin’s firm belief that they never would have become a couple without all the trauma they’d been through and though this time around Jon definitely doesn’t hate him... he doesn’t love him either. Oh, he loves that he exists, seeing Martin whole and blissfully ignorant of the Fears helps heal something in Jon, but it takes him a very long time to admit that he’s too nice. Too caring. Too tentative in his insecurity. Jon grinds his teeth and admits in the privacy of his own thoughts that he was attracted to a bastard version of Martin, one who showed off a little bit of his own monstrosity, was connected to his own domain, could cut just as cruelly with his words as Jon could with his powers... Meeting with him now over coffee, inches away, Jon has never felt farther from him. This Martin simply isn’t a part of the world that created Jon.

Good, he decides and firmly steers Martin away from the Institute. Thanks to some blackmail and Peter Lukas’s money, Martin finds himself with a caretaker for his mom and the promise of a full ride through whatever creative writing program he can get into.

Meanwhile, Elias is of course stalking and spying on Jon whenever he can, doing the metaphorical equivalent of doodling hearts in his notebook whenever he catches a glimpse of why Jon no longer connects with Martin. He’s a bastard avatar with shitty morals and, frankly, far better taste in poetry. Open your third eyes, Jon!!

Gertrude, who avoided sacrificing Michael after a stern talking to from Jon: “You sure you don’t want the Spiral to eat you, kid? Anything’s better than watching this clusterfuck.”

Michael: 🙃🙃🙃

After a while the Institute settles into a new kind of normal. Jon, Gertrude, and Michael defend the archives from the slew of enemies they’ve both amassed, stopping the occasional ritual in their free time. Jon has long come to the conclusion that the Fears couldn’t have originated here - not with the Eye being unable to see its own creation - so starving them in this reality at the expense of their world wouldn’t serve the greater good. The best they can do is continually contain them - which they’ve gotten real good at. Elias continues to bother Jon with a fervor that’s almost admirable (he can see how this guy managed plans for upwards of 200 years) and waffles between playing the Mysterious Boss archetype that he’d used on Jon the first time around, and just giving in to the utter adoration he feels whenever Jon is in the room. It’s clear he’s long since started worshiping Jon rather than the Eye and the Eye is... totally fine with that?

Gertrude: “How did you get the Ceaseless Watcher to treat you like a favored child?”

Jon: Trauma?? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

After seeing how much happier Martin is, Jon guides the rest of his former assistants away from the Institute, Sasha included. It helps, a little, but it also makes him even more isolated than he was the first time around.

Gertrude realizes this, so when Elias’ flirting - “I’ve found a fresh statement for you, Jon. Oh do stop glaring, it’s just a bit of chloroform. She’ll wake up soon. You can’t be satisfied with stale writings for forever” - starts inducing more fond annoyance than fear or horror, she becomes #Concerned.

Gertrude: “You realize that desensitizing you to his actions was the point all along, right?”

Jon: “Mmhm. But is it still manipulation if I know it’s manipulation?”

Gertrude: “You cannot possibly be considering this.”

Jon: “Would it help if I admitted that dating Elias wouldn’t be the worst decision I’ve ever made?”

Gertrude: “NO.”

The thing is, Jon liked Elias before he revealed himself to be an immortal body-snatcher hell-bent on creating... well, hell on Earth. He liked the soft academic exterior, his careful words, love of organization and attention to detail, the dry humor, cutting intellect, those suits that likely cost more than three months of his salary combined... In fact, Jon is now in a place to vividly remember the embarrassment he felt while interviewing for the archivist’s position, too busy avoiding looking at Elias’ lips to catch the hungry glint in his eye.

Of course, that Elias only exists as a veneer... though what was Jon’s “I’m just a normal man going grocery shopping, please ignore my scars and aborted grab as I resist demanding a statement from you” if not a veneer of its own? Where did their ‘real’ selves begin and their conscious choices end? The most awful thing about all this is that Elias is right. Oh, not about them being Kings of a ruined world, but about how no one but another avatar can truly understand an avatar. By this point Jon is years past his coma, fully at peace - or at least, as at peace as he’ll ever get - with the fact that he chose to live as a monster rather than die as a human. That means Knowing things at his leisure... though he tries not to catch anything private. It means Compelling others to provide him with more knowledge... though he’s careful with his questions around friends. It means Feeding off of others’ worst moments in life... though Jon restricts himself to statements that Gertrude has collected first, so that he never haunts anyone’s dreams. And it means spending the majority of his time with other monsters and monster-aligned allies... though Jon plants his feet firmly in his human morals and refuses to budge.

If he can navigate all that, why not this too?

Elias has said more than once that he would make Jon the worst version of himself - said with such glee and promise as to almost, almost sound like something Jon wants. Jon figures that the worst version of Elias, from his perspective, would be to look a bit more human.

“We can bring out the worst in each other,” he agrees one day, followed by a shark-like grin.

Elias hasn’t the faintest idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

And that feels wonderful. Manipulating him into being a marginally better person who doesn’t bring about the apocalypse might actually be more satisfying than stabbing him. The Elias of Jon's original timeline would have HATED this and that makes Jon do a happy little wiggle whenever he thinks about it.

Gertrude: “You’re leashing a fucking dragon, Sims.”

Jon: “Better than letting it roam free.”

Gertrude: “Just so long as he doesn’t chew through the reins.”

Jon: “Yeah well, I’ll be the first one burned if that happens” and he holds up his charred hand with a shrug.

So begins the most messed up courting ritual the world has ever seen. Do they work as a couple? Oddly enough, yes. Amazingly well, in fact. Is it a healthy relationship? LOL yeah right. But then that’s rather the point. Jon gave up on that the day he acknowledged that, yes, a part of him liked being the most powerful being roaming a hellish landscape - liked not being vulnerable for once. Back when he’d first joined the Institute, post-breakup with Georgie, Jon couldn’t even imagine someone liking him enough to grab a drink after work. He’s past pretending that having the cult-like devotion of a lover, the favor of a Fear god, and the grudging respect of everything else that goes bump in the night isn’t really fucking nice.

Sometimes Elias plays the part of a compassionate human for Jon, as a treat. Sometimes Jon let’s Elias bask in another’s terror, as a treat. Sometimes Jon is Jonathan Sims and sometimes he’s The Archivist. “Let’s rule a burned-out world together” becomes a staple request in their relationship, with Jon always giving Elias the equivalent of a pat on the head and a, “Sure, honey. Maybe next week.” They find something like balance that way.

Plus there’s Gertrude, perpetually in the shadows with an arsenal of weaponry and the promise to obliterate them both if they ever go too far. She reminds Jon of his grandmother when she threatens to fuck them up in the afterlife if they ever make her kill them.

Something, something, dysfunctional eldritch found families are beautiful?

Jon and Elias have achieved something akin to an uncanny, domestic bliss when Elias points out that this body won’t last forever...

Jon Does Not Like the idea of Elias kidnapping another innocent.

However...

Jon: “You know Jurgen Leitner is living in the Institute’s tunnels, right?”

And they lived ever after. The “happily” is highly subjective.

Bonus:

Post-apocalypse!Jon meeting with Original!Jon to warn him away from the Institute, painfully thin ever since his coma, hip-length hair streaked unnaturally white, a slew of scars covering every available bit of skin, the slightest green glow behind his eyes, somehow looking supremely confident and powerful while also embodying the most Awkward Academic you’ve ever seen: Hey.

Og!Jon: G-good lord!

Jon: It’s okay. You can say ‘fuck.’ Please say ‘fuck,’ Jon. We deserve it.

#TMA #The Magnus Archives #TMA fic #Jonlias #Jon/Elias

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ao3feed-jonmartin · 17 days

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Poker Face (level 0 hes really shit at this)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RMw7K8e by percypers In : “ONLY THE BEST AVATARS (+ Bouchard)” Group Chat [3:30 am] Whore Bastard : Lets say, completely hypothetically of course, if I were to hide drugs in my house, where do you all think I’d hide them? Killers kid : up your arse. Silly Archivist : Im sorry, are you looking for drugs? Toy Soldier! : Elias Is Doing Drugs? Oh But Thats Bad For Him! And I Really Dont Want To But I Might Need His Healthy Skin In The Future! Whore Bastard : … Whore Bastard : Helpful, truly. -------------------------- OR : Author wants to write a long form more serious fic about OG Elias getting his body back, but isn't prepared for that. so you get a dubiously updated chatfic!! Timeline is screwed, but sasha is here sooo!! POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS (This is a Jonah Magnus hate zone) Words: 911, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 1 of OG Elias gets his body back!!>!!?!"$": Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Original Elias Bouchard, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Oliver Banks, Agnes Montague, Jude Perry, Melanie King, Julia Montauk, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Jared Hopworth, Jane Prentiss, Nikola Orsinov, Annabelle Cane, Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Peter Lukas, Simon Fairchild, Michael "Mike" Crew Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Original Elias Bouchard/Michael Shelley, Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Peter Lukas Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, chatfic, Original Elias Bouchard in Elias Bouchard's Body, Stoner Original Elias Bouchard, Web Avatar Original Elias Bouchard, Divorced Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Peter Lukas, because i dont like OG elias and peter much, only jonah and oeter, Tags Are Hard, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 5 read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RMw7K8e

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #tma #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin fanfic

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tmasexymanpoll · 1 year

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Melanie King- affiliated with the slaughter but not a full blown avatar paranormal investigator runs ghost hunt uk tried to murder elias multiple times blinds herself to escape the institute georgie barkers girlfriend was the only one who saw through not! sasha and remembered the original sasha james

Annabelle Cane- web avatar caved in skull healed over with spider webs touched by the web as a child fear of spiders volunteered for an arachnophobia study gained the ability to control others minds and bodies made participants of the study smash a hole through a two way mirror with their head was hanging with mikaele salesa in uptown house during the eyepocalypse

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staysaneathome · 2 years

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Faking Dating For Dummies (And Other Avatars of the Stranger)

The being currently known as Sasha James cards her fingers through her hair as she waits at her table.

It’s an odd habit, one that’s more likely to get her stares rather than let her blend in with the lunchtime crowd, but she can’t quite help it. It feels so good to be able to straighten her hair again, luxuriating in the gentle heat and methodical styling, the weight of the straightener like an old friend even in her new hands. If she’s careful enough with her touch, she can pretend the warmth of her fingers is actually some residual heat left over from this morning.

It’s an indulgence, certainly, like when she’d bought that yellow cake for her “birthday” and eaten every slice while riding the nearest ferris wheel she could find, or slipping several tins of the nice Marks & Spencer shortbread into the break room cupboards at the Magnus Institute alongside the worn packets of rich tea biscuits, hobnobs, and jammy dodgers.

But she’s been stuck in that table for so long, unable to even struggle or scream against those awful, choking threads of the Web, with only the taste of dust and table polish for company. Even now, she can feel the most of her still held there, pinned like an insect on a corkboard under the glare of that hideous Eye.

Nikola may not entirely approve, but she’s not the one risking her skin to monitor the Eye, now is she? Sasha James is.

(Or, well. Was.)

So all in all, the being going by Sasha James feels she’s entitled to some little idiosyncrasies, just for herself.

The Stranger doesn’t let her have too many of those.

But still, she has work to do, and they can’t go attracting the Eye’s attention just yet. So she’s meeting up with someone outside of Madame Tussaud’s and the Trophy Room to be on the safe side.

She won’t know them, but that’s never been an issue for the Stranger. In fact, some would argue it’s the entire point.

Nevertheless, when a slightly-too-pretty person with a smile that couldn’t be more camera copied slides into the seat across from her, Sasha can’t shake the feeling of…recognition that suddenly strikes her.

“Here we are again.” The person says, voice a lower tenor that suggests masculinity.

“Here we are again.” Sasha returns the password blithely. She peers closer. “…Have I seen you perform?”

The way this person startles is lovely, all fluid starts and sharp stops, like a dancer following the line. “Oh. Uh?”

“Petrograd, 1916? Nikola was going through her ballet phase?” She hazards, lighting up when the backing dancer nods hesitantly. “I thought so! You were wonderful, I always thought it was a shame the audience wasn’t fleeing in terror sooner…Ilona?”

“It’s, it’s Tom now, actually.” The very pretty ex-dancer says, rubbing the back of his (?) head bashfully. “Nikola let me choose this one, as a promotion of sorts.”

“It’s about time. You always were too good to just be backup.” Sasha smiles, trying to ignore the way blood is circulating to her cheeks.

That makes him(?) laugh, which has the oddest aftereffect of making her palms go gently clammy.

“Well enough about me.” His (?) eyelashes are long and soft looking as he (?) flutters them at her. “We’re here to talk about you. How is it going at work?”

She groans, burying her face in her hands.

“…Is that a good sound?” Tom asks, hesitantly.

“They’re just—” She waves her hands around. “How can they be so. Weird?? I mean, I know they’re Eye avatars, but come on.”

And then she’s off, ranting about Tim Stoker and his constant jokes about invading people’s privacy and seducing civil servants for their public and personal secrets, about the person whose life she’s living who apparently thought everyone’s private lives and social media were merely another puzzle she was entitled to solve and get the answers to, about Martin Blackwood and how he looks soft and scare-able but he seems to have committed a new crime almost every time she enters the office and he somehow got ashes of the Hive to please the Archivist when she hadn’t, to Sasha’s knowledge, ever been burned??

And that’s not even getting Archivist and his paranoid little breakdowns, constantly muttering about how since Gertrude was murdered, of course it must mean that he’s going to be murdered too, when he’s not even half the strength she used to be?? Like wow, Jonathan, maybe the murder’s not about you, did you ever consider that? Like she might murder him, but that’s besides the point. And he keeps trying to break into these tunnels under the archives, with just his skinny little noodle arms three times this past week alone, and recently she saw him going through the rubbish?? To find Martin’s poems and record himself verbally tear them apart, as if that will hide the blatantly obvious crush the two of them are nursing on each other?? Honestly—

And through it all, Tom is an avid listener, gasping at the appropriate points, sputtering with helpless laughter at others, particularly when she describes Martin’s growing grudge against this policewoman investigating the Archivist for Gertrude Robinson’s murder, seemingly for spending too much time talking to him.

She finds she particularly likes his (?) laugh, a throaty chuckle that grows louder and makes people at the tables around them look over and then quickly look away.

This is the most fun she’s had since she was released from the table for this assignment, and she feels herself relaxing, leaning in closer, able to ignore the lingering itch of being Watched for just a moment.

So of course, it can’t last.

“Sasha.”

She nearly jumps at the sound of her new name, looks up to see the Archivist glaring down at her.

She plasters on a fake smile. “Oh, hi Jon. It’s not already the end of lunch break already, is it?”

“It’s close enough.” He lies, poorly. She can see on the face of his battered watch that she still has half an hour left. His eyes are fixed unsettlingly on her, as if he’s trying to peel the layers of her apart with his gaze alone. She’s not sure whether he’s blinked at any point during this exchange.

Sasha has been alive for a long time, can very faintly recall pale masks and groups singing from her earliest memories, so she doesn’t flinch under the Eye’s gaze. Instead, she begins picking up the wrapper for the sandwich and hula hoops she was eating before Tom got here, starting to stand. “I’m so sorry, I lost track of time. I’ll get back to the Archives now—”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend here? You’ve certainly been talking to him long enough.” The Archivist’s tone is a solid weight, curling around her like chains, like nets, like webs. “Who is he?”

Sasha doesn’t thrash, doesn’t shriek like she so dearly wants to, even as her tongue fights the rest of her to obey the Archivist’s demand, to tell all if it will just make that awful scrutiny stop.

“This is Tom.” She grits out through an increasingly plastic smile. The Archivist might be flush and clumsy with the Eye’s power, but he’s still untrained enough that even if he can make her answer, she can avoid giving any more than the bare minimum. “Tom, this is my boss at the Magnus Institute, Jonathan Sims.”

This clearly doesn’t satisfy the paranoid little weasel of a man, because he opens his mouth again. “And what—”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

Sasha takes a moment to goggle at Tom.

He’s standing up from the table, chest out and trying to meet the Archivist’s gaze head-on, as if his tentative connection with his new skin doesn’t make him the more vulnerable of the two of them.

She feels an odd protectiveness as the Archivist’s head cocks, studying Tom. “Since when?”

“Since we met in the group therapy that Elias recommended I go to after Prentiss.” She lies, praying the Pupil still considers her infiltration diverting enough to support this. “This was before any of us came back from leave, and when Tom and I met we just…hit it off. We’ve only been going out for a few weeks now.”

The Archivist doesn’t look as placated as she’d hoped he’d be, clearly gearing up for another interrogation—

Something warm and plush covers her hand. Part of her wants to compare the sensation to the softest linens, the smoothest mahogany.

Tom is frowning at the Archivist, the very picture of a concerned partner. “Excuse me for saying so, but do you usually get so involved in your subordinates’ love lives? Only, I don’t mean to pry, but Sasha mentioned something about you and a coworker, Martin—”

Jonathan Sims splutters. “Wh—! N—why, what, what are you even talking about?! What about me and Martin?! There’s nothing about, I don’t—no. No. Martin is just—! And it is none, none of your business, anyway! I do not have, have any interest in what my assistants do that doesn’t concern the Archives. None.”

“My mistake.” Tom says, sitting back down. He hasn’t removed his hand from where it’s curled over hers. “Well. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Sims.”

“A shame I can’t say likewise.” The Archivist mutters, turning his attention back to her. “I’ll see you back in the office, Sasha. Soon.”

“Soon.” Sasha replies, watching as he turns and speedwalks away. A few small, green leaves flit down in his wake—was. Was he hiding in the bushes across the road, watching them?

She and Tom seem to deflate at the same moment once the Archivist is out of sight.

“Now do you see what I mean about them being weird?” She asks wryly, gratified when that startles another throaty laugh out of him (?).

“And here I thought you were exaggerating.” Tom grins at her and Sasha grins back, heart pumping hard from residual adrenaline.

But then the expression falters, Tom’s eyebrows drawing together. “Was. Was that okay? The, uh, boyfriend thing. It’s just, he was right there and I didn’t want him doing—doing that thing again, and it was the first—”

“Hey, hey.” She places her hand atop Tom’s this time, “That was excellent thinking on your part, and you acted the role brilliantly. We needed a cover story in case any of the others noticed us meeting up, and a boyfriend is better than just an out-of-work friend or a family member. More reasons to contact each other regularly, if you know what I mean.”

Tom nods, even if he (?) clearly doesn’t. His gaze is fixed on their hands, and Sasha realizes with embarrassment that she’s just been absentmindedly stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

She removes her hand and places it under the table, clearing her throat. “So, um. Is boyfriend, alright with you? Not, not the idea of being, being my romantic partner, but, being, well. He/him.”

“Hm? Oh, oh yes, I like those.” Tom has pulled his hand back towards himself, gently rubbing it with his other hand. “But I’ve never been a, a boyfriend before. And we need to really sell this role, otherwise the Archivist will Know, right? For the good of the assignment.”

Sasha nods tentatively, “The good of the assignment. Right.”

Tom continues. “So who should I ask about it? About how to be a good boyfriend? Would Nikola know?”

Sasha can’t help the face she pulls at that. Nikola’s never going to let her live this down once she hears about it, is she.

“I’d ask Breekon and Hope, myself.”

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fiendishartist2 · 10 months

Text

until my fears come to fruition, i'm not scared– tma

"'Once I even saw him take one of Hector’s femurs and, after twisting it into a corkscrew spiral-'" Sasha spoke evenly into the tape recorder, voice soft as if giving words to the statement was a divine act. She felt it reverberate through her, a warm shiver that ran from the soles of her feet to the tips of her fingers. It wrenched her eyes open and she drank the words in as quickly as her own cadence would allow. Cold fear settled unpleasantly in her stomach, but the deep rightness of it compelled her to continue.

Just as she came upon the climax of the account, reading growing more frantic with each word inching closer to the heart of the victim's terror, the door to her office swung open.

It crashed against the wall with reckless abandon– old and rusty hinges shrieking alongside a startled Sasha. Tim strode into the room, waving around a handful of loose papers and manila folders.

"I told you– I told you!" He raged as he paced in front of Sasha's desk. Each harsh clap of Tim's loafers against the scuffed hardwood floors of the Archives punctuated the pounding of Sasha's heart. She almost couldn't catch her breath in all of the commotion; the last remnants of her prior excitement trickled out of her thoughts, replaced by quickly fading adrenaline.

Sasha mustered up a weak glare, "Tim, what the hell are you on about? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Tim continued to pace, completely ignoring Sasha. He muttered furiously to himself, talking in circles.

"Look, Tim," Sasha sighed, "I really need to get back to work-"

He whirled around and slammed the stack of statements onto Sasha's desk. His eyes were wild and hard with anger, but flitting about the room nervously, as if expecting something to sneak up on them. She flinched– she had been doing that a lot recently, especially around the people she once called friends.

Tim released the papers, moving his hands to grip the edge of Sasha's desk. Sasha pounced immediately, flipping through them hungrily.

"Wait, are these-?"

"Statements you've already read? Some of them," He shot a look over his shoulder, "Most of them aren't. Most of them are statements I've never seen before. I-I found them hidden in Document Storage- surely so we wouldn't find them…" Tim trailed off, babbling to himself.

Sasha's attention was glued to the unfamiliar statements. Her gaze jumped from paragraph to paragraph– page to page– as she tried to discern if she had seen them around the Archives or not. Something about these statements in particular repulsed her, even the ones she knew she had read prior. It felt wrong, like Tim had disrupted something important by taking them.

"So… what?" Sasha asked distractedly, "You found this lot of statements in storage. Gertrude probably hid them away for some reason or another. You know how she was."

A hand suddenly blocked her reading again as Tim slapped it down in front of her. He leaned in, mouth caught in a snarl.

"No." He said darkly, vitriol boiling just under the surface.

"No…?" Her voice climbed a few octaves as a different kind of fear wracked her.

Tim's erratic behaviour in the past few weeks had been causing her considerable alarm, but being faced with his rampage upfront was a whole other beast. She didn't want to believe Tim or Martin would harm her, but discovering Gertrude's body had changed things. The last Archivist was murdered, her death successfully covered up by someone working in the Archives. It rattled Sasha, made her wonder day in and day out if that would be her last– made her obsessive and confrontational and paranoid. The only person who could keep her anchored to reality was Jon; he kept her sane, in a way. On top of being a trustworthy friend in a place where she had lost all feelings of safety, he was incredibly helpful with Gertrude's murder investigation. He always seemed to get the perfect evidence just when she needed it. Sasha needed Jon, and she was grateful for it.

"Someone in the Archives is hiding these statements. Hiding them from you and me and Martin- a-and probably Elias too, for that matter!" He lowered his voice, once again checking over his shoulder before speaking, "I'm sure this is all Jon's doing."

Sasha burst into laughter.

All at once, the tension in the room dissipated. Of course Sasha was not about to be shot in her office, going the way of her predecessor; Tim was on another one of his 'Jon is evil' tirades. Tim sat back on heels and crossed his arms protectively over his chest. The faint blush creeping over his stony face prompted another round of giggles from Sasha.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just- Tim, please," She all but rolled her eyes, "I promise Jon did not squirrel away random statements for nefarious purposes."

He started pointing desperately at the papers again, "Look at them Sash- really look at them and-"

"Tim, I am looking at them. All I see is unrelated statements." Her hand moved of his own accord, settling on top of Tim's. She smiled, "You're getting worked up over nothing."

He looked disgusted for a moment, and then confused.

And then angry.

"You're not listening!" He shouted, before shooting a frightened look over his shoulder and lowering his voice to a growl, "If you just read them, you would see how they connect to Jon-"

"Spit it out already!" Sasha snapped. Her own frustration was bubbling up and the longer Tim beat around the bush, the more irritated she grew.

Tim dropped himself bodily into the chair in front of her desk– the one reserved for statement givers who thought the couch made it feel more like therapy than academia. He slid one of the folders towards himself, plucking the statement from within and holding it up.

"Read this one," he urged, "All of the writing in this file was done by Jon, but it's not anything coherent. Just the statement and pages of nonsense. I've never seen it before because it's been misfiled since Jon started working here."

"How do you know it's Jon's and you're not just using him as a scapegoat? You all started work on the same day." She asked cuttingly. She felt quite mean talking to Tim like this, but these baseless accusations against Jon were getting under her skin. She was just protecting a friend.

"Look at the handwriting- it's got to be Jon's." Tim handed over the open file and sure enough: Jon's characteristic cramped cursive littered each page.

As she flipped through the pages and pages of indecipherable 'research', she came upon the original statement: 'Statement of Darren Harlow, #0101811'. It looked relatively new; maybe a few years old, taken by Gertrude but untouched until Jon picked it up. Curiously, some parts of the statement were obscured– words, sentences, even entire paragraphs scratched out in pen. Otherwise, the statement appeared unharmed.

The visual of a marked-up statement made Sasha itch behind the eyes.

"'Annabelle Cane'? So, what, she turns into a spider monster by the end or something? Seems as normal as a statement can be."

Tim shook his head, "They're all like that, though! All about spiders and webs and- and puppets, for whatever reason. All follow-up done by or re-opened by Jon."

Tim snatched another piece of evidence from the pile, "A-and look at this one! I could have sworn you recorded this one right before Martin's run-in with Prentiss, but apparently it's been unfiled since Jon decided to 'continue Martin's research'," he mimed exaggerated quotation marks, "While he was absent."

Sasha remembered this one; statement #0150409, from the man who believed he was haunted by an immortal spider. She still regretted how hard she pushed Martin into proper follow-up on that one. In some ways, she felt like she had handed him over to Jane Prentiss on a silver platter.

However, she knew she could put Tim's skepticism to rest, now that she had a statement that was already on tape. Sasha pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk, where she kept all of her tapes. They were in neat stacks of six, ordered by date recorded. She shuffled through them, passing over the exact date where Carlos Vittery's statement should be. Real panic gripped her when she came up empty handed.

With more urgency, she dug out the entire stack it was supposed to be in and tossed it haphazardly onto her desk. The itch behind her eyes spread like a wildfire, filling her brain with an inescapable, searing buzz. She needed to find that statement– it was hers and the possibility of it being missing or- or stolen was inordinately wrong.

She pawed through the scattered tapes frantically.

"It's not here," she said faintly, turning back to her drawer to dig through the tapes with reckless abandon, "Tim it's not- it's not here. Why isn't it here?"

"I didn't see any tapes with the lost files, but-" Tim started tentatively, his own rage fizzling out as Sasha visibly spiralled. She stood abruptly, sending her chair careening behind her. It crashed into the bookshelf on the wall, dislodging a few books that fell to the floor with dull thumps.

Sasha marched around her desk. She pulled Tim out of his seat and pushed him out of her office.

"They were right here, I swear."

Tim had led her to the back of Document Storage. She had been trying to tame this room since day one in the Archives; so far, she had managed to record a considerable number of statements, but it had barely made a dent. There were still stacks of statements littering the floor and filing cabinets overflowing with manila folders.

Tim had pulled out one of the drawers of a filing cabinet and pointed out the space behind it. She had to admit, she's not surprised Tim found it so easily. It was a horribly obvious place to hide something.

"I don't see the tape…" She mused. Calmness settled over her like a blanket, pinning her down underneath it.

When Tim had steered her toward Document Storage, the panic fuelling her started to lose steam. Despite everything that happened between them recently, Sasha loved Tim– he was one of her closest friends. But, ever since Jon joined the Archives, she had to admit he had become a bit… irrational. After Prentiss, his disdain for Jon reared it ugly head and, subsequently, so did the theories and the arguments and the paranoia. Looking at it from a calmer perspective, it was easy to see how Tim was just jumping to conclusions, like usual.

Document storage was a mess; a room where every nook and cranny had a statement shoved in somewhere. Sasha often found herself getting turned around in there. It was impossible to find anything in the nonsensical filing system as statements were, more often than not, incorrectly filed. She couldn't exactly blame Jon for just sticking all of his work behind a drawer and calling it a day.

Of course, that wouldn't explain the missing tape, but what reason did Sasha have for thinking Jon was the culprit? Maybe she had just misplaced it, even though she was impeccably organised. That pressing calmness was now almost crushing.

She must have misplaced it.

"Sasha…?"

Sasha squeezed out a chuckle. What a strangely humorous situation. How could she have gotten so wrapped up in this? Obviously Jon wasn't working against them just because he chooses to research spider-related statements. That's ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

"Sasha, are you okay? You're acting a bit… weird."

Sasha felt a bit weird, but that was okay. She was so calm that she couldn't mind if she tried. The familiar force tugging at her thoughts was so helpful, so kind. It knew what was best for Sasha and wanted Sasha to know as well.

Wordlessly, she wandered back to her office, still chuckling under her breath.

When she pushed open the door, feeling a bit unsteady on her feet, she was greeted by the sight of Jon. Her desk was empty, cleared of statements and tapes. Something ugly squirmed around in her stomach, but that gut reaction was unreasonable. How utterly ridiculous she was being.

"Hello, Sasha. I was just coming to talk to you when I spotted my research work on your desk. Mind if I take it back? I believe there was some follow-up I hadn't quite finished up." He said innocently.

The ugly thing in her stomach was trying to crawl up her throat and out of her mouth. She wanted to scream at Jon– tell him no, tell him to leave, to stop doing whatever he was doing to all of them.

But Jon smiled that kind smile– the one that crinkled his eyes and thinned his lips and seemed to draw all attention to it– and numbness settled over her again.

Tim whipped you into quite the accusation, a voice in her head scolded. And of Jon of all people? That's ridiculous. That's absurd. How could that ever be possible?

The corners of her lips moved of their accord, manipulated into returning Jon's smile.

"Of course. Go right ahead Jon."

"Why, thank you, Sasha."

Jon shut the door softly behind him as he left. Sasha crumbled to the floor, her strings cut.

I'm going to find a way to tear your web apart, Jonathan Sims.

#i loooooove archivist sasha. shes like if jon was smarter but just as mentally ill #also i love s2 tim bc he was so ready to fuck jon up at any moment. im obsessed with how much he really hated his ass #tma #the magnus archives #my fic #sasha james #timothy stoker #jonathan sims #archivist sasha #web avatar jon #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #a little #just in some of the wording #title from dr sunshine is dead by will wood #edited to fix spelling + grammar

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