#Jonathan Sims Is Dead In The End fic

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

Jonathan Sims Is Dead In The End

Chapter 1: Prologue (AO3)

Summary:

Sasha James does not give up. She does not stop. Even when things seem hopeless, even when she is entirely alone in this apocalyptic wasteland of her own making, she does not lie down and take it. So when an opportunity presents itself to fix everything, take her all the way back to when she first got this promotion? She takes it by the throat and fucking throttles it.

Sasha doesn't know how long she's been walking. She's been alone here for as long as this world was reformed in Jonah Magnus' perfect image, all because she decided to read that one Statement-

She can't think about that right now. There's no point to it except to work herself up, and there's no one to calm her down anymore, no one to stand by her side and vent to, at the very least.

God, she misses Tim. She misses Martin. She misses Melanie and Georgie. She even misses Jon, for how little the real him was left by time he'd transferred to the Archives.

How many deaths could she have prevented? If she'd said the right thing here, stopped or even hesitated there, held off on bending to Elias' fucking whining about audio recording for the Archives- how much of this wouldn't have happened?

Sasha is only walking because of a pipe dream. She knows that this world probably can't go back to normal, not when it's been reformed like this, not when the fears have their tetherhooks so deeply inside. It won't let go, not now, not ever. The only hope is to beat it out, sever the connection, but she doesn't know if that could work. An Eye cannot look inside itself, and an Eye cannot See how it will fall.

But still she marches on. Hoping against hope that killing Jonah Magnus could do something to hurt the connection, enough to generate a moment of weakness, a chance to beat it out of her world, beat the fear back to the edges of reality where it belongs.

If there is still even the tiniest spark of hope left in a world like this, she will chase it. That's the way that she is, the way that she always has been, always will be. Sasha James does not give up. Sasha James does not give in. Sometimes she has to repeat this to herself like a mantra, but it holds true. She keeps going.

Through the fog, through the flames, through the rot and disease, through the dolls, through the blood, she keeps going at a steady pace. She walks and talks, making Statements into the ever-present tape recorder because that's the only company that she has anymore, pressing on because if she stops, she doesn't know if she can start again.

She Knows that she can. She Knows that she would, eventually, the only question is if her heart would still be in it, or if her movement would be dictated solely by the Beholding. She doesn't want to find out, so she won't.

She doesn't know how long she's walking when she comes across a familiar door. She kind of wants to open it, see what Helen wants from her. Helen now and Michael before- both of them were always pleasant, even if only to her.

But she doesn't need to touch the handle or even knock for the door to swing open on its own. Has she ever, really, or has it always opened itself to her? Instinctively, she tries to remember, go back over every interaction with a fine-toothed comb, anything to make this train of thought last as long as it can because it doesn't hurt as much as everything else, and anything that doesn't hurt has to be savored for as long as you can taste it- but she can't do that right now. The door is opening. She has to pay attention to what crawls out.

It is Helen, of course. Michael is still dead. The end of the world does not return anyone or anything to the land of the living, no matter what the new definition of "living" is.

"Hello again, Archivist! Isn't it a wonder to catch you here?"

Its grin is widening impossibly across its face, curling up and around its cheeks and very nearly cutting into its ears. Its fingers are still as sharp as shattered glass. It stares at her with impossible eyes, and she does not know where the real question lies in the greeting.

It is a strangely giddy feeling, that of not knowing something. Or Knowing it. Sasha never thought that she could miss it, but here she is.

"Maybe it is, but I think that it's not. What's your game today, Helen?"

She keeps the circular nature of the conversation going, fucking sue her. She hasn't gotten to chat with anyone or anything vaguely coherent in so long, not to mention something that at least pretends to be on friendly terms. Maybe Helen's dangerous, maybe it isn't, but she can't quite bring herself to care right now. She's catching up with an old friend. She's ignoring reality for just a moment, not even a fraction of a second in the grand scheme of things, and she is letting herself entertain and be entertained by one of the only things left that isn't horrifying right on the very surface.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Don't worry your pretty little head about it, you'll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I've got a question for you, Archivist. I know you're not used to being the one interrogated, so I'll try and be painless, alright?"

Sasha nods her consent. She wants to find out where this is going, learn it, not Know it. She has a feeling that it will lead somewhere interesting; the Spiral always ends in the most fascinating of places.

"Just how much of me do you See?"

Sasha opens her mouth to respond, takes a sharp breath, and then realizes that she has to think on the answer. At a glance, not much, Helen is as impervious to her Sight as Michael always was, but as she thinks on it, as she Looks, the pathways become clearer and clearer. Still, she cannot Know everything, and while she suspects that she could come close to that upon entry into Helen's Domain, that would also be... rude. To Know the Unknowable. To distinguish Truth and Lies in the Twisting Deceit.

Vaguely, she notices Helen's face has become twisted in a sort of discomfort, but as she mentally backs away from the hallways, the face morphs into that of contentment. It still looks rather violated, but there's an aura of victory in that expression. Has Helen felt the answer just as Sasha was finding it?

"I understand. I know that you don't like it here alone, Archivist, and quite frankly I feel that the world like this is going to become rather boring rather quickly. So I think that it would be in both of our best interests if you closed your Eyes and trusted me."

Sasha doesn't fucking trust that. She might have been dumb enough to start the apocalypse, but she still has enough self-preservation to keep herself from getting killed, no matter how friendly Helen is. It is still very much the human form of untrustworthiness.

"Oh, don't give me that look, and don't say anything, either. I can read your face plain as day. How about I tell you a little truth, hm? Satisfy your curiosity, just a tad. Time does not move only forwards. With as much power as I have now, I can move you to any time I please."

Sasha can taste the Truth in the air. She can see the pain on Helen's face as it spits the words like poison, and she knows that it is true. She sees the offer as what it is.

Helen has not betrayed her like this before. It has no reason to do so now, not when she could very easily kill it if she finds out about any attempt at deception for malicious ends. The only other option for fixing this mess is going where Beholding wants her to go, and Beholding doesn't want its newfound power to be usurped. A pipe dream or a possible trap, those are her only options. She knows where she is going in a heartbeat. It's not even a real choice.

Sasha closes her eyes, and steps inside the door.

[magpod-confessions]

hi. so because i'm normal about jonathan sims and jmart. um.

i really like jmart. i think there could have been MUCH better buildup, but... ultimately it's a very cute ship. i think the appeal, yeah, is a lot that it's just canon. but.

they're both deeply broken people. jon wasn't loved enough. his grandmother tried her best, but he was never cuddled, never read to, never had a chance to *be a little kid*, really. and martin was never loved. maybe he convinced himself he was just never loved the right way, that his mum just didn't know how to show it because he was so *insufferable* and *incompetant*, but no matter the lies he tells himself, martin was not shown love by his mother.

and then they meet. and martin gives and gives and gives because that's all he knows. and jon has no idea how to receive because he never really had anything to receive. and jon's coping mechanism, with that unknown situation, is to reinforce his emotional walls. martin does not know how to stop giving. so they don't work at this point, not at all.

and then jon's emotional walls come tumbling down. well, moreso that they were violently destroyed, with prentiss and all. jon has no support system!!! tim hates him because he's a fucking *stalker*, martin... well... he can't rely on martin, of all people. and sasha... he never knew her too well, but she's acting strange. so jon and martin don't work together at that point, romantically, i think partially because jon won't let it.

in big part, jmart is built on mutual trauma (NOT traumabonding!! i know it's used that way in podcast, but that's not the correct definition) and ... martin being pretty much the only person jon has left. of course, there's basira and melanie and georgie, but they don't *get it*. they didn't go through everything jon did alongside him. sure, martin didn't either, but martin has been there the whole time.

it's partially a relationship of proximity, partially shared trauma, but i do think a lot of it is genuine care for each other (even if that care stems from the former two reasons).

anyways. theyre really cute. tma could have been just as good without it, but---and im saying this as someone who typically despises most romance in media---i really adore them and their dynamic. it opens up so many doors for both character- and self-exploration.

martin learning to love without sacrificing himself. jon learning to love openly, period. explorations of trust and how mutual trauma that affected people in different ways can shape them, etc etc etc. and of course, this is all in fics and in my own mind, because . theyre dead . (i wont accept any ending but that, honestly. theyre not Somewhere Else to me). but. it's nice. they mean a lot to me as characters and as people and as a pair. thumbs up.

and some jon ranting!! because i. admit. finally. that i might be a bit of a jon kinnie.

jon doubts himself, constantly, unless his decision is completely impulsive (ex. the coffin). he can't *let* himself feel, fully, because as a child it was always annoying/obnoxious, or too much, or wrong in some ambiguous, nebulous way.

he's out of touch with himself emotionally. it's... not so much that he doesn't get emotions, it's moreso that he's repressed the majority of his own so intensely that he has a hard time dealing with others' emotions because he's not too sure what it's supposed to feel like without a heavy flavouring of shame.

he's read a lot of books. he knows, in theory, what sadness or romantic love or anger or excitement feels like---and occasionally in practice, when the repression and 'compartmentalisation' (bottling it up) becomes too much and it all boils over---but he has a hard time relating those hypothetical and heat-of-the-moment feelings to actual, real life people.

he struggles with empathy, severely. partially an autistic thing, partially a trauma response. yknow. he's genuinely well-meaning when it comes to comforting those he cares about, but he's not sure of the right thing to say because of how severely that muscle has atrophied. he was never taught that with his grandmother and her neglect (and yes, no matter what he says on tape, it was emotional neglect) and then not having very many friends... he missed those prime developmental stages as a child.

he never empathised with book characters, i don't think. he was always the observer, never really fully putting himself in the role of the protagonist. he definitely used books as an escapist coping mechanism, but it wasn't in a visiting-this-fictional-world way, it was more of a losing-himself-in-the-story way, if that makes sense. there was always a sense of detachment. reading was an *in between* of his life and the life of the protagonist.

he struggles with his and others' feelings because, from his perspective, his emotions are uniquely shameful, uniquely embarrassing, and uniquely *harmful* to other people. so, he represses them, and doesn't let himself feel them unless they're 'useful'. and then, when he can't apply this ideology to others' emotions, he has no way to deal with them. he freezes up because this is a situation in which he has no real experience in, and, as a child who was punished for behaving autistically *wrong* ---whether by his peers or his grandmother---he's scared to make a wrong move.

he sees himself as a person who is uniquely capable of harm. other people can hurt other people, sure, but jon can hurt them in a *special* way, a *worse* way, because he is a fundamentally wrong, bad person.

yeah👍

.🗣️

I AM EATING THIS I agree with this yea

[brettanomycroft]

My brother in christ how was I not following you. Anyways I'm going to pretend you reblogged the character bingo because PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT MARTIN!?

I only just came back and realized I wasn't following YOU until like yesterday but now all is right and good in the universe.

Okay hoo-ee whooo boy let's talk about Martin. Fucking. Blackwood!!!

A lot of characters in The Magnus Archives are truly tragic (see: Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Sopping Wet Meow Meow Institute) - they are victims of their own Fears and pride, or are manipulated to literal Hell and back, lose or destroy the things most precious to them, succumb fully to the machinations of horrible Eldritch abominations, or just straight-up get dead.

But in my mind, Martin is one of the few characters who in not really a tragic character. Does bad stuff happen to him? Oh yeah. Does he make bad or morally questionable decisions? As the Antichrist's plus one, absolutely. Is he kind of wheedling and pathetic at times? Definitely. A manipulative little shit? 100%.

But there's very little that happens to Martin that he doesn't in some sense own. He puts himself in horrible situation after horrible situation (from willingly letting his boss force him to relive a twisted version of his own deepest trauma to agreeing to jump into a tear in the space-time continuum) with a very clear-eyed view of what he's getting into and why he's doing it. Martin sometimes gets accused by characters in the show of being foolish or bumbling or just following orders, but he makes it clear time and time again that He Understands What He's Doing. More so, it seems he really understands what he's doing without the sort of illusion of trying to maintain objectivity or trying to "do good."

That's not to say that Martin doesn't care - he cares fiercely about the people he loves and is willing to make the hard choice when it's the right one - but his gray morality (especially when it comes to himself) is part of what makes him such an appealing character to me. He knows that the choices he's making will hurt him, or are morally questionable, or may cause a bigger problem down the line. He also knows that at the end of the day, he's still going to make those choices. I think ultimately that's what lets him support and push John in the final season: Martin has few doubts about the path he's taken to get to this point, and so he's able to shoulder some of the shock and trauma John is rocked with when it hits him that he's at the catalyst for a literal apocalypse and spirals into unknowable "What ifs."

OF COURSE A LOT OF THE REASON MARTIN IS ABLE TO DO THIS IS BECAUSE MOST OF THE TIME HE HAS LITTLE SENSE OF SELF-WORTH OR VALUE WHICH IS WHY INTO THE SALAD SPINNER HE GOES!!

Anyway, as someone who is a recovering people pleaser and is same hat when it comes to "Mommy issues" and "writing mediocre poetry," I really resonate with Martin's character in a lot of ways and think he's a lot of fun to write. Martin has a lot of nuance in his ability to seem unthreatening, using it to fly under the radar and still get what he wants (and in the end! He gets what he wants!!). I've read about people pleasing as a form of manipulation and, yeah, that's Marto to a T. But he's still also a soft and loving boy even as he advocates for his monster boyfriend to kill their enemies.

Personality aside, Martin is a canon Big Guy and there is something about trekking through the apocalypse with a guy who is big and tall enough to wrap me up in him that just makes me 😳😳😳😳 Like same, John, same. Some of my favorite Martin fics/Fanart feature situations where he's like a strapping farmer or breaks a zip tie with his bicep or just hauls people around and I am looking *so* respectfully.

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

Martin is big sad (tma)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/lCSHD7Y by LeooooooXD i kinda covered it in the tags but ig ill make it more clear I'm really bad at describing things so sorry this is dogsit :3 so like martins like "ah yes wouldn't it be such a nice idea too love Jon and then think that he doesn't love me back and then let everything go in a downwards spiral and end up wishing i was dead and thinking i deserve to hurt and shit :D " and then Jons like "i love martin and shit and I'm worried abt him etc. etc. :(" and in the end they gay together don't worry Words: 23, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Magnus Protocol (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jon - Relationship Additional Tags: martin angst, jonmartin, martin s/h, Self Harm, Martin Blackwood Needs a Hug, Martin Blackwood Has a Crush on Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Depressed Martin Blackwood, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Angst, this is my first fic ever written please dont bully me, :3 i think thats all, Please Tell Me If I Forgot Anything, also i know jon is big sad too but i dont reazlly see as many good martin fics, also i relate to martin alot so thisll just be easier for me read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/lCSHD7Y

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

Lucy's death and specifically her death through the eyes of the suitors really just. Makes me feel many emotions. On one hand what's on the surface does very much move me. Oh man Jonathan Sims today was just. So earnest. And Jack Seward is so earnest and he tried so hard and his grief is so real and he was such a good friend and I Feel That. But on the other hand call her child One More Time Jack, I fucking dare you.

When Van Helsing does it it's fine because yes. They're all children to him he's like 65 but Jack was looking to marry Lucy, and his infantilization of her is another thing that I Feel So Strongly(I think Quincey also calls her a child? Might be wrong). I have said this. Ad Infinitum, I have written fic about this, but there's the surface level tragedy of a 19-year old girl dead a week before her wedding and there's the unspoken, unrealized, unremarked upon tragedy that maybe just maybe this would have ended differently if all these men treated her as an adult who was suffering, rather than a child (and a very young child at that), and valued her input and sought her opinion and told her everything they were doing to her. Like. I love these men and I honor what they did for her but they never even come close to getting it.

[laiqualaurelote]

for the alphabet fic ask game, XYZ!!

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

In general I do not enjoy making anyone suffer. That said some people end up suffering more than others in my fics, especially competent and repressed policemen (e.g. Jack Robinson from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries). I feel like if I ever finished writing my Magnus Archives fic I would have made Jonathan Sims suffer a great deal (he would have been thrown off at least one roof in the pursuit of the truth) but I never have and so never will.

Y: A character you want to protect.

Niko Sasaki from Dead Boy Detectives, at all costs!

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?

Ooh good question. I...would avoid reading, unless it were an author I trusted to handle it for a good reason, and even then I would proceed with caution. I do think it can be done well. One of my favourite fics when I was young was a multi-chaptered Pirates of the Caribbean epic in which (spoiler!) dies, and I was very heartbroken by it but it made sense. (This was over a decade ago on FF.net and I have never been able to find the fic since - if you know where it is PLEASE tell me. There is no particular character whose death I would not be able to tolerate any more than the rest.

I did kill Edwin seven times in the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned but is it really Major Character Death if the major characters were canonically dead to begin with?

thank you for playing this fic ask game!

[tma-fanfic-archivist]

Statement of The Fanfiction Archivist, regarding @some0neelse's ask on Discord for tape transcript fics about jonmartin.

Statement Begins. Someone asked for a specific fic format, and I delivered! Here are 3 that I highly enjoy!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Martin Blackwood Also Martin Blackwood (kind of) - Character Original Statement Giver(s) (The Magnus Archives)

Additional Tags: Location: Somewhere Else (The Magnus Archives) Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives) Lonely Avatar Martin Blackwood Canon-Typical The Beholding Content (The Magnus Archives) Beholding Avatar Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Statement Hunger (The Magnus Archives) Statement Addiction (The Magnus Archives) Jonmartin Week 2023 (The Magnus Archives) Screenplay/Script Format

My summary: Somewhere Else!Jmart get the supernatural munchies and try to figure out how to feed as ethically as possible. Eat the rich i guess?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Martin Blackwood

Additional Tags: Post-Canon Location: Somewhere Else (The Magnus Archives) Screenplay/Script Format Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives) Hopeful Ending

My summary: Bitches in a Void. They're not dead apparently???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Martin Blackwood Alice "Daisy" Tonner (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Relationship Negotiation Pre-Relationship Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives) Location: Alice "Daisy" Tonner's Scottish Safehouse Martin Blackwood is Not Okay but he is gay! AND! Polish Martin Blackwood (he mangles polish pronounciation to make a joke i swear it's bad on purpose) Fluff and Angst Fabric rustles Screenplay/Script Format Jonmartin Week 2023 (The Magnus Archives)

My Summary: Jmart playing analog games and putting a name to what they are. oh, and Jon is tryin not to resort to Spooky Eyeball Magic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy the transcripts!

Statement Ends.

[theyellowmistress]

My two illustrations for @cuddlytogas‘ fic “Missing Presumed Dead” for @tmabigbang 

Consider these a sneak peak to some very spooky encounters, so what are you waiting for and go start reading it!

Image Descriptions under the cut

Image One

[ID: A digital painting of the corridor leading into the archives of the Magnus Institute from the podcast The Magnus Archives. The painting is fully coloured and in portrait format. The three-point-perspective shows the corridor tapering off into darkness, a row of old-fashioned lamps hangs from the ceiling, all of them are turned off. There are doors visible to either side of the corridor. They are labelled "Head Archivist Jonathan Sims" (left) and "Break Room”(right) respectively. A much better illuminated door is half-closed in the foreground. Its window reads "VES" (presumably cut off from "Archives"). A brown-skinned hand (meant to be Jon's) with a white sleeve is gripping the door knob, pulling it closed. The vague black shape of a tall, broad shouldered figure is barely visible in the depths of the archive's corridor. It is indistinct and can only be identified so much as to be considered human. The painting is kept in muted tones of green-grey, except for the Archives door and Jon's arm. It is set on a white background with fraying edges, giving the impression of an unclean polaroid picture. The artist's signature is visible on the white frame at the bottom right. It reads "RMS 2021". /End ID]

Image Two

[begin ID: a digital, monochromatic drawing, depicting the shadowy figure of Martin's ghost knocking on the door from inside Document Storage. Martin is just a silhouette with round, white circles for eyes. He's looming in the window of the door, labeled in white lettering, Document Storage. The sound of the  knocking is emanating from the door in large circular ripples. White fog billows out from underneath the door. Text overlays the bottom of the door: Knock, knock. end ID]

[voiceless-terror]

My TMA Fluff Fics

 For @themagnuswriters latest challenge, I decided to go through my eighty-some fics on ao3 and find only the purest-grade, quality fluff I could find. No angst here! A grab bag of pairings but mostly jonmartin. 

Day in the Sun | Rating: G | Words: 1.1k | Pairing: Archive Polycule

“Speaking of your men,” Melanie sat up and whipped off her sunglasses, squinting intensely at the shoreline. “What exactly are they trying to do? Drown him?”

The Archives Gang has a Beach Holiday. That's it, that's the fic.

Hurry, I’m Behind You! | Rating: T | Words: 2.6k | Pairing: Gen

Jon and Melanie help with Daisy's hunger in an unconventional way.

Alternatively titled 'The Gang Plays Hide and Seek!'

Truth or Dare | Rating: T | Words: 1.6k | Pairing: Jon/Martin

Jon chooses truth. Martin chooses dare. These choices have their consequences.

The team goes to a bar after work and discoveries are made by all.

My Dearest | Rating: G | Words: 1.1k | Pairing: Jon/Martin

“Pass me the towel, dear?”

“Ah y-yes, of course.”

Martin has a million pet names for Jon. Jon attempts to reciprocate.

What a Lovely Way to Burn | Rating: G | Words: 1.6k | Pairing: Jon/Tim

Jon's next words were muffled against Tim’s chest. “You always do that. You always warm me up.”

“Why Jon,” Tim's voice took on an unbearable, teasing tone as his smile grew. “Are you saying I’m so hot I made you sick?”

Jon comes in to work sick and Tim takes care of his boyfriend.

The Weight of Love | Rating: G | Words: 1.6k | Pairing: Jon/Martin

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust.

The Best Things Come in Threes | Rating: T | Words: 2.3k | Pairing: Jon/Gerry/Martin

In which Martin and Gerry help Jon acquire a cat, among other things.

Trial and Error | Rating: G | Words: 1.3k | Pairing: Jon/Martin/Tim

And if Martin sleeps like the dead, Jon does the opposite. It’s not that he’s woken up at all, no, but he’s constantly rolling around, climbing on top of them at strange and uncomfortable angles. Tim wouldn’t mind the clinging so much if he didn’t change position every fifteen minutes with a jab of his pointy elbows.

In which Martin and Jon sleepover and Tim struggles.

Of Deadlines and Drama | Rating: T | Words: 2.5 k | Pairing: Jon/Tim

Jon's expenses are overdue. Tim hatches a plan to help him out.

Afterwards | Rating: G | Words: 1.2k | Pairing: Jon/Martin

If Martin had realized how difficult this was going to be, he would’ve left Jon at home. They’d already left ‘at the wrong time, Martin, everyone goes on a Saturday, it’ll be so crowded’ and parked in a ‘terrible spot, Martin, right by the carts, we’ll be lucky if we don’t get a dent in the car.’

Martin and Jon go grocery shopping.

Full of Surprises | Rating: G | Words: 907 | Pairing: Jon/Martin

“Oh, look at this little man-” It’s not quite baby-talk, too serious and too Jonathan Sims to ever be described that way, but it’s a strange enough tone and it sort of does something to Martin in the vein of indigestion and heart palpitations. Here’s his stuffy boss, crouching in a dirty alleyway, petting a dirty cat, and whispering sweet nothings as if it were his own.

In which Jon pets a cat and Martin gets a crush.

A Little Kiss | Rating: G | Words: 1.8k | Pairing: Jon/Martin

Tim watches the two of them; Martin keeps looking up at Jon throughout it all like he’s the only one in the room and god, his crush is so evident and yet Jon is oblivious, smiling at him like he’s not on the receiving end of some of the most loaded glances of all time.

A game of truth or dare reveals some truths.

And Many Happy Returns | Rating: G | Words: 5.7k | Pairing: Gen, Pre Jon/Martin

It’s not every day you turn eight. It’s a nice number, very even and divisible. Much better than boring old seven. When Jon turns eight, he’s going to get fifteen extra minutes added to his curfew, and he’ll be able to walk to the corner store all by himself. He’s already walked there several times, but it’ll be nice to have permission. That’s the real treat.

In which it's Martin's birthday, and Jon plans a little celebration.

a continuation of Inseparable, where Jon and Martin meet as children.

[ashdumpsterpile]

ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST 

For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)

___

the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do)  by @ajkal2

Jon wakes up.

aka. mag200 tore out my heart

(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)

remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)

Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles

Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.

Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.

The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.

(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)

hey stranger by @ennuijpg

It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?

(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)

roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses. 

(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)

go softly by doomcountry

And there is nothing else besides this. 

(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)

Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf

After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up. 

(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)

trust my love by antlsepticeye

“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”

“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”

(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)

reaching out by Athina_Blaine

By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.

One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.  

But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.

And Martin desperately wanted it to be.

-

Martin and Jon have an important conversation.

(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)

Belabor by @janekfan​

Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.

And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.

(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)

tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles

“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”

“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”

“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”

“Oh, good idea.”

Jon shot Tim a withering look.

(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)

A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror

Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.

In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.

(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)

Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey

Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.

Well. Almost everyone.

(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)

The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust. 

(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)

The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.

(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)

Novelty by @backofthebookshelf

Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.

(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)

Half a Hug by Dathen

I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."

-

Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend.  Spoilers through TMA 132.

(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)

the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine

It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.

And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.

(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)

you can watch me corrode by scarletfish

"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"

"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.

"When was the last time you ate?"

(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)

(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)

Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity

There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.

For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.

(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)

---

Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.

(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.) 

I Do by @voiceless-terror

“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”

In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.

(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.) 

________

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

Jonathan Sims Is Dead In The End

Chapter 2: Neisser and Harsch (1992) (AO3)

chapter summary:

Just after the Challenger Shuttle mission failed in 1986, the news spread across the US, and many found it to be such a tragic event that they vividly recalled where they were when they found out about it years later.

This phenomenon is called a flashbulb memory, which is a type of memory that is highly vivid, and is created during times of extreme emotion. Two psychologists, Neisser and Harsch, decided to test the reliability of these memories, using the recent Challenger Shuttle mission failure as an example of a flashbulb memory in their participants. The day after the mission, the experiment had been proposed and approved, and participants were brought in and asked a series of questions, in addition to being asked to write down a summary of where they were when they first heard the news.

Two years later, they brought the participants back to answer the same questions, and again give a summary on where they were when they first heard the news.

Most people had very high confidence in the accuracy of their answers; however, very few responses actually matched up between the 1986 interview and the 1988 interview. Many participants didn't even remember being given an interview in 1986 at all.

Sasha is walking down the hallway with her eyes closed. She Knows that Helen is walking in front of her, but she's making a concentrated effort in not Looking at anything else. That would hurt Helen. That could fuck everything up.

So instead, she's thinking about everyone that she needs to save.

Will she be able to look Jon or Martin in the eyes again, or will their future selves override her memory of them? Will she be able to hear Jon's voice without flinching, will she be able to accept anything from Martin without looking for callouses that shouldn't be there?

She misses them, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to stand seeing them again. Untainted. Still- marginally- human.

Can she even save Jon? Can she do anything for him but tell him to run?

And what about Martin? Was he human at all, or was he in its grasp even before they met?

Tim, she knows, is fully human. He remained that way through to the very end. Even if he'd done some inhuman things... he'd remained unaligned. Is that the line? Is that the difference between good and evil, now? It wasn't like that in the apocalypse, is it- was it ever like that in true reality, or is it all just people trying to survive? Some people are just willing to hurt more people than others, but that still doesn't make them monsters. Tim was a prime example of that.

And the other side of that coin. Jon was a monster who never hurt anyone, and yet he still got screwed over in a way so much worse than death. At least he has the mercy of not being Jon anymore, of not having any blood on his hands at all. Sasha can't say the same.

None of that even mentions everyone who hadn't shown up yet when she was first promoted. That begs the question, actually- when is she going? Is she going to be there in the time before Melanie died? Before Martin changed, or else revealed himself, or- whatever he did. Would she be there before the Unknowing? Before Jane Prentiss, maybe- but that feels like too much to hope for. Even in her head, that feels like a pipe dream.

She is stopped, suddenly, by a sharpened hand upon her shoulder, gripping tightly enough to warn. To be a threat, if necessary. Sasha doesn't need the reminder that Helen is dangerous. She also doesn't need the reminder that she needs to be threatened- the temptation to open her eyes has been awful, the need to Know and Understand has been driving her wild in the back of her mind. But she doesn't, or at least, she does her best to ignore her surroundings.

"Your stop! For the record, Archivist... it was nice knowing you."

Sasha knows that that was a lie. Still, she returns the words- "It was nice to know you too, Helen." Then she walks forward, out of the door that has just opened in front of her.

She doesn't open her eyes, no, she doesn't get the chance before she's assaulted by an intense sense of vertigo. She doesn't know which way is up, which way is down, she thinks she's fallen to the floor, or- no, she's on a bed? At least, this feels like a mattress, and a comforter, and is that sunlight that's hitting her eyelids or the fluorescent lighting of the breakroom that became more familiar to her than her own home?

Only one way to find out, really. Sasha opens her eyes to see her old bedsheets tangled around her, like she'd tossed and turned like everything that she had seen, experienced, lived and died through- like all of it was some nightmare. She's drenched in sweat, her heart is pounding, and she's got a little bit of a headache, but that's alright, because outside, there is no giant eye staring down at everything. There is only the sun, and the sky, and the constant cloud cover that couldn't possibly do anything to dampen her spirits. Not now, not after getting what she always wanted- a chance to fix things.

She doesn't think that she'll fix things very well when she's dripping with sweat, though, so she makes her way out of her bed and over to the shower. Before she gets to the bathroom, however, she decides to check her phone and see what kind of a timeframe she's working with. Maybe, if she's lucky, she'll be somewhere just before the Unknowing. She won't get her hopes up, though, and if Peter Lukas is the Head of the Institute it'll still be somewhat alright. She picks up her phone, and checks the date.

Sunday, March 20, 2016.

Sasha nearly drops the phone in shock. The day before her first day as the Archivist! This- this is better than anything she could have possibly anticipated. She can save everyone, at least, everyone who isn't Jon or one of his friends. She spares a quick thought to mourn them before she meets them again, mourn them before they die-and-live-but-not all over again, before refocusing on everyone that she can save.

Everything starts with Prentiss, she decides as she gets in the shower. She takes more than a moment, then, for her thoughts to derail as she finally sees her newly scarless skin, the way that she's got full dexterity in her hand again, the way that she doesn't feel a pulling at her throat if she turns her head just the wrong way. She'd forgotten how much she missed this.

Everything starts with Prentiss, so should she do everything that she can to prevent the attack in the first place? No, she dismisses that idea out of hand, because it would make Jonah suspicious, and besides, something else would just come in her place. She can't have that, she can't risk a casualty when there were none the first time around.

She just has to keep Jon from encountering the Not-Them again, but it's not like she can arrange it so that it won't kill whoever's sent in his place- the only reason that Jon didn't die then was because he was going to die later. Her best bet is keeping everyone from Artifact Storage, and if that doesn't work, then she's willing to take her chances with it.

That still doesn't cover what's going to be done about Gertrude's body, and the ensuing paranoia that had taken the entirety of the Archives hostage. Had that been because of her, though, or would everyone be alright if she just reassured them that she hadn't murdered her predecessor? She can find out later, and really, most of her later moves would be dependent on who does or does not encounter the Not-Them during Prentiss' attack.

So Sasha takes a breath, and decides to enjoy the first shower that she's gotten to have since the start of the apocalypse. By time she's done, steam has fogged up the mirror so much that she can barely see her reflection. That's fine, though, she doesn't know if seeing an unmarred face staring back would even register as her own, even with the Beholding-green eyes that she knows must still be there. She misses when they were brown, but what little of her face she can see betrays the single change in her appearance from this time period.

Sasha gets dressed, slowly, taking the time to appreciate the way that the colors don't warp under her eyes, the way that they don't have bloodstains on the edges, the way that they are nothing more than a hoodie and some fucking sweatpants. She's relaxing. She deserves it.

Sasha moves out of her bedroom, finally, and goes to her dining room table that she doesn't use for eating, instead, it's practically another shelf, and she clears all of the crap off of it. Paperwork, mostly, none of it important. She takes a notebook out from a bookshelf nearby, and gets to work drawing out a timeline of events from the original timeline.

She realizes very quickly that almost everything really is dependent on Jon's encounter with the Not-Them during Prentiss' attack. The whole thing with that officer, Basira was her name, though she isn't sure- that wouldn't have happened if not for Jon. Tim wouldn't have- he wouldn't have done anything drastic.

Speaking of Tim- he won't die this time around. Now that she knows that the Unknowing doesn't necessarily need to be stopped, only a passable enough attempt needs to be made for Jonah's sake, the explosives won't need to come into play. Tim's going to be fine.

Sasha spends most of the day mentally and physically going over every event in the original timeline- every death, every mark, every tragedy that can now be stopped. Even the smaller ones. Don't send Martin to investigate the Carlos Vittery Statement, that won't do much but introduce corkscrews and CO2, and, well, she knows about that already. All the other smaller things, they're also dependent on the Prentiss attack. That's going to be a hell of an operation, keeping the Not-Them from fucking everything else up.

All of a sudden, it's 6 in the evening and she hasn't eaten a thing. She's got a tidy little collection of takeout menus, and rolls a spare die to decide which one she wants. Sasha lands on a menu for a Greek pizza place that might have been open since before she was born and she's almost certain was still there in some fashion during the apocalypse, and orders her favorite personal pizza.

When it arrives, Sasha eats the whole thing on her couch and treats herself to a bit of ice cream right out of the tub- it's fine, it's not like she's going to invite anyone to her place anytime soon. Or ever, really, she's gotten a bit too vigilant for a non-apocalyptic London.

As she looks over at the timeline made of torn-out pieces of notebook paper that was painstakingly arranged on her table, she doesn't feel ready for her first day of work tomorrow. She feels prepared, certainly, but not ready to see faces that she thought that she would never see again.

Either way, she's going to have to deal with it. She can't miss her first day as Head Archivist tomorrow, and as she cleans her food waste up and gets ready for bed, she decides that acting like nothing has happened might be the greatest challenge that she's going to face in all of this.

[rosileeduckie]

Itinerary

Statement of Jonathan Sims, regarding a statement.

You know the feeling when you get way too into reading something? Like, when you feel so involved that you start to feel like the story’s happening to you? Poor Jon feels this sometimes. Hopefully no one nefarious finds out about this... Starting Tickletober with Day 2: anticipation! Thanks @gigglymonster for posting this sfw list for this month :)

SFW. Potential warnings: swearing. The Magnus Archives tickle fic.

Word count: 3,567

~*~

Much as he appreciated having his own space to work without interruptions, sometimes Jon really did miss the old researching days when Tim would roll his chair over to Jon’s cupboard-sized working space for company or a chat, or when Sasha would lean on the door frame, pointedly in the way and watching until Jon finished the tea she’d brought and actually took a break from his work. When his current office, cobwebs in the corners and statement stacks growing ever higher, seemed too big or quiet, he could always find relief in leaving it and walking past the open door of the assistant workroom, where there was nearly always a conversation being held over the sound of clacking keyboard keys and flipping book pages. He wasn’t the kind of boss to pop in for a check-in or a friendly hello, so Jon rarely went through the ever-open door, but he found comfort in hearing voices other than his own, even if just for a little while. Maybe he’d even go so far as to wander into the break lounge, pretending to look for something that wasn’t the human interaction of anyone he happened to meet there. These days, he didn’t have to do so much sneaking seeking someone to talk to. Throughout the day, he’d often have coworkers dropping by his office to drop off statements or inquire about information from previous cases or ask if Jon wanted tea. He appreciated that, too—the time Melanie, Daisy, Basira, Sasha, Tim, and Martin would all take out of their days to come see him. The introvert in him was glad for some time to work alone, but the sentimental part of him wished the stretches of time between visits weren’t so long.

Jon had finished reading the statement nearly a quarter hour ago. But it still lay on his desk next to a tape recorder that collected only dead air. Some statements, the ones he could rationalize or that didn’t hit too close to home, didn’t rattle Jon so much. He was the head archivist of a library of reported paranormal experiences, after all; he should have been able to read through things without feeling actually scared. Some, though, needled their way into his brain and stuck there, haunted him. Left him with an empty, hollow feeling like the downswing after a high. If he was alone to dwell on them for too long, it started to really freak him out.

Blessedly, a knock came from the office door. Pulled from the perturbed state, Jon cleared his throat and turned off the recorder, which he hadn’t realized he’d left run. “Come in.” He swiveled his chair around and brightened considerably when he saw who opened the door. “Hello, Martin.”

“S-sorry if I’m interrupting,” Martin said as he entered, seeing the usual recording supplies on Jon’s desk. “Just, um, found this and thought you’d— hi.”

Jon couldn’t help the twitch in his lips at Martin’s rambling cutting off with so timid a greeting. Even after having been in a relationship for nearly two years now, there was still a giddiness underlying the professionalism they maintained in the office. Not that anyone else did. When Jon and Martin had told their coworkers about their new romance, they became quite the targets of teasing from their friends, who were happy to see them “finally” get together. Jon could put up with teasing at work, especially when it made Martin go so adorably red, but mostly because, he knew, at the end of the day, it would be him and Martin, happy.

Martin returned the small smile with a rosier one of his own, then cleared his throat and held out his hand, drawing Jon’s eyes to the clipped-together bunch of papers Martin had brought with him. “Just found this statement I’d thought you’d want to see.”

“Oh?” said Jon, taking the pile and glancing at the information filled out at the top—the usual stuff, the statement giver’s name, address, and succinct summary of their experience to categorize the pages they’d written out—and then looking back to Martin. “Pertaining to a more imminent cosmic horror, or just interesting?” he asked, trying to guess why it required his immediate attention more than any other statement. “Funny?”

“You might get a chuckle from it,” Martin nodded.

“Ah. Okay. Thank you, Martin. I’ll—” Jon reached to set aside the earlier statement to be refiled and placed the newly delivered one before him, “I’ll add it to the queue.”

Martin nodded again, quickly adding, “If you don’t get to it today, you know, or— it’s fine.”

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed, and he quietly enjoyed the flush he could see coloring Martin’s ears. “You didn’t slip me some poetry hoping for a review or something, did you?”

“What?” Martin said with a startled chuckle. “No. It’s just the statement.”

“Right. Well, thank you,” Jon said, amusement coloring his tone. “Was there anything else?”

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Martin shook his head. “I’ll let you get back to it. See you for lunch.”

“Alright.” Jon turned his chair back toward his desk, waiting to hear the sound of an exeunt. Instead, he heard footsteps approaching, and, when he turned his head to ask if there actually was something Martin had forgotten, he was met with a quick kiss to the forehead. Jon had seen the flash of Martin’s smile, heard it in his farewell as he left the office, and that smile and the tenderness of that kiss hung in the forefront of Jon’s mind more stubbornly than any statement could. It was moments like that when he was actually glad to have his own office, as he could practically hear Tim cooing about how adorable a pair they were and how he needed a camera to capture the cryptid that was Jon smiling, especially so shyly. In solitude, Jon could hide his smile as poorly behind his hand as he liked.

He did take a breath and try to scrub the smile from his face with his hand so he could start the statement, not wanting to sound like a lovestruck gay schoolboy when reading about horror, no matter how absurd and funny the horror was that awaited him. He was a serious archivist, after all.

“Right then,” Jon said, grabbing a new replacement tape and starting the recorder wheels spinning.

~*~

Statement of Jason Thisman, regarding his partner, and the thing that took over his partner’s body. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the archivist.

“Recently, I’ve come to really worry about my partner. Not the kind of worry that would prompt me to seek help from a hospital or couple’s counselor, but… well. You can probably infer what kind of worry, just from the fact that the place I chose to come for help was here. Not that I’m sure you guys here can help, if that’s the thing you do here. I heard of the archives from a friend, and I guess I just want to get what happened off my chest without being looked at like I’ve lost my marbles. Even if there’s no help for me, at least it will be there to help someone else. Warn them, or whatever.

My partner and I have been together for almost two years now and living together for a year of that. We have a dog and a cat, we work day jobs neither of us want, we get takeaway too often, and we go for drinks with friends on weekends. All things considered, our home life has been pretty normal. Domestic, certainly. Maybe even boring. But I don’t mind. It’s nice, to have something to come back to that you can be certain will always be there, will always make you feel a special kind of safe. At least, I was naïve enough to believe it would always be.

Don’t misunderstand me—it’s like I said, my partner and I don’t need the kind of help a couple’s counselor could provide; and I know that, because we both have individual and couple’s therapy—the ‘always’ didn’t start to show cracks because of discontent or infidelity. In fact, there weren’t any cracks. It was sudden. Like the floor under me had given way with a splintering crack like thunder, and I suddenly had no idea who I was committed to.

When it happened, when the rug was pulled, it was a normal night, just last Thursday. We’d taken the tram home, and I started making dinner while my partner took the dog for a walk. I remember he was humming…

I remember he was humming when he left, because, when he got back, I had just put dinner in the oven when I heard the front door open, then close, then… nothing. Looking back, maybe I could say something profound, that it was in that silence that I could hear when everything changed. But that wouldn’t be true. Really, I couldn’t hear anything at all.

And then the dog ran in, all happy barking and nails clattering on the floor. I bent down to pet her, and, when I looked up, my partner was standing in the kitchen doorway. For a moment, I was relieved. I’d overreacted, I was tired from a long day, I was stressed from work, whatever—but everything was fine, everything was normal. I smiled, told him, “I hope you’re not too hungry, because we’ve got a bit of a wait for dinner.”

And he said, “Suppose I’ll have to find something to snack on in the meantime.” Normally, I would have scolded him for spoiling his appetite, but the way he said it, it didn’t sound like him. There was gravel in his voice I’d never heard, and, when I looked at him, his eyes had this bright, hungry light in them. All at once, I didn’t recognize the man who stood in front of me. His fingers had grown sharp and his hands shook, and it was like his aura was bursting out of him, drenching the kitchen tile in sinister energy.

I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do. I’d thought he was joking, but I’d never seen him look that way. So I— I ran. Deeper into the flat, as fast as I could, and faster when I heard him chasing after me. He slammed into the door seconds after I’d ducked into the bedroom and locked myself inside. I knew I had precious few moments to try and escape while he got the key from atop the door frame and unlocked the door, and I was frustratingly frozen. I hadn’t made a dash for the front exit, and now I was cornered. I could have tried hiding in the closet or under the bed, but I had no hope of going undiscovered. Maybe the window. I was far from athletically inclined, but perhaps I could have shimmied down to the ground using a tree or drainpipe, anything that could offer enough hand- and footholds to keep me from sprain my ankles in a rough descent.

My planning brain betrayed me in eating up all my head start time, and I was stuck even further as arms captured me around the waist, growling breath hot against my ear. I was free for a moment as I sailed through the air, only to be pinned on my back as I fell onto the bed. The thing that wore my partner’s face had rendered my legs and arms trapped and useless with how he straddled my thighs and pinned my wrists in one hand above my head. Nothing made me feel so helpless, though, as the ravenous gaze he fixed upon my face. I could feel my blood pounding, from my heart under the clawed hand he held suspended above my ribs, through my neck and quickening my pulse when his eyes flicked to that vulnerable space, into my cheeks where heat bloomed as he pressed a suddenly tender kiss to my forehead before rearing back. He lunged, dug in with teeth and claws, and I screamed.

The shaking of my head deterred neither his nibbling mouth nor bearded chin from the sensitive skin beneath my jaw, and his fingers dug mercilessly between my ribs on the left side. And the right side, when his other hand joined the fray. I had thought he’d meant to kill me swiftly by going for such vital spots so fast, but he evidently intended to use our supper’s lengthy cook time to the fullest. He pushed my shirt up and over my heaving chest, exposing my stomach and still tingling ribcage to his hungry gaze. I hadn’t caught my breath before he’d pounced again, gnawing delicately along my lowest ribs and scribbling his claws, unbearably featherlight, over my hips. The sensations tore through my body as though his jaws and talons were ripping me to shreds, making me howl and writhe and fight until I had no strength to do anything but laugh. I’d been skin and bones before he’d begun his meal, and, afterward, I was all nerves and residual giggles. More than residual when I threatened to enjoy supper on my own, since he’d already stuffed himself, and he’d so eloquently rebutted by introducing his teeth to my hips. That final attack had left me too hoarse and happy to argue any further, so I’d given in with a nod.

After that, the night carried on. The days since have been normal again, with. I worry for my partner, though. Will this monster overtake his body once again? When? And I worry for me. I can feel this isn’t over. Whatever overtook him has had a taste of me, and I don’t think it will be satisfied with just one course of a meal.”

~*~

Jon was happy he had his own office. If he’d had to have people looking over his shoulder as he recorded what was clearly a prank statement, waiting for him to realize as much and ready to tease him about it afterward, he probably would have sunk through his chair and through the floor in embarrassment. Well. He already sort of was sunk into his chair in mortification, but the fact that no one was around to witness it was a relief.

With statements actually dealing with the possible paranormal, Jon often got wrapped up, invested, like he was experiencing the statement firsthand. That wasn’t the case here. He didn’t feel claws on his torso or fangs on his neck. He did feel his ribs tingling in anticipation of such sensations. Part of him was glad that he hadn’t felt those things the way statements usually made him feel things, since he knew the noise he’d make would only garner more teasing. The other part was irritated knowing that he soon would feel all those sensations, but that he’d have to wait for them. Damn, Martin.

It took nearly a quarter of an hour for Jon to convince his face to cool down, flustered beyond belief had the unorthodox love note his partner had tricked him into reading. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his office to confront him about it, knowing that Martin would be all pleased hums and sunny grins about it. But then, the thought of not seeing that grin for the rest of the day, if he could even manage to hunker down away from anyone else for that long, was also sort of killing him. Maybe he could be quick, have a chat with Martin and be back before anyone saw the state the statement had left Jon in, indignant and stupidly eager for the emergence of a tickle monster after dinner.

Holding the affronting statement gingerly between his fingers as though it could bite him, Jon ducked his head and hastened from the office and down the hall. The workroom’s door was open, and, when he stepped through, Jon was met with expectant gazes and stifled smiles, the most prominent one upon the freckled cheeks of his villainous partner.

“Alright, boss?” said Tim, elbowing Sasha in the side when she started snickering beside him.

Jon shot both of them a glare in answer and beelined toward Martin, holding the statement out to him. Calmly, he inquired, “What the fuck is the meaning of this?” He remained calm even as his ears went hot at the sound of poorly hidden laughter from different desks.

“Sounds like he didn’t like it, then,” said Basira, shaking her head with a stage whisper. “Poor taste; I thought it was good.”

“At least, it couldn���t have been technically bad,” Daisy replied. “It did have four editors.”

Tim agreed, “Very good editors, at that.”

During the little sidebar, Jon took slower breaths. It had just been a joke, and only Martin—who was still smiling at him with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes—could tease him for the contents of the fake statement, where the others were surely only going to tease him for having believed it was real at all. His heart took a brief sprint at the thought of his friends and coworkers teasing him the way Martin would, by prodding, figuratively and literally, at the soft spots in his armor to prompt a smile or win an argument, and to take note of how, flustered as it made him, Jon didn’t mind it. “Yes, well,” said the archivist, snatching his hand back the moment Martin relieved him of the statement. “A very good prank.” He cleared his throat in what he hoped sounded like a scoff. “Might have slipped by that you wasted my time with a fake statement if you hadn’t used an anagram of my name in the header.”

Melanie looked up from her laptop, eyebrows raised and mouth elevated into a smirk. “If you caught it at the header, why’d you read the whole thing?”

Jon whipped his head to glare at her and reply, but he found his mouth open uselessly with no good answer. He’d read it because he hadn’t noticed that the statement was addressed to him until he’d already finished it, and, by the time he caught on, he’d wanted to finish it. Not compelled, just wanted. “It was very unprofessional. Don’t do it again,” said Jon with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in an excuse to not meet anyone else’s eyes. “I think I’ll make some tea.”

The glimmer of hope that was an escape was snatched away—by Martin, no less—when he stood. “I’ll do it, Jon. As an apology for—” He sidled past Jon, brushing a hand casually but precariously along the back of his ribs along the way. “—wasting your time.” Jon tried not to stiffen or melt when Martin touched him, crossing his arms because he had no idea what else to do with them as Martin left the workroom, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. Jon was about to follow, only to be stopped by yet another question.

“Boss? Did Martin have it right in the statement?” Tim asked, grinning crookedly as he leaned back in his seat, fingers steepled. “Ribs is the worst spot? Thought it was always your armpits that got you to ‘screaming’ territory.”

Melanie shook her head. “And Sasha told me stomach.”

Jon wished he had enough eyes to glare at everyone in the room.

“Perhaps,” suggested Sasha brightly, “we need to record a collaborative statement to get our information straight.”

“You should feel lucky!” Daisy called as Jon power-walked out of the room fast enough to leave a cartoon dust cloud in his wake. “We agreed a statement tickling you stupid wasn’t too mean. They shot down my idea of trapping you in a haunted dunk tank!”

Martin already had the kettle on by the time Jon cornered him in the lounge, wrapping his arms around Martin’s waist and burying his face in the taller man’s shirt. He felt the soft rumble of Martin’s chuckle through his back.

“What kind of tea, darling?” Martin asked.

Jon lifted his head and stood on his toes to hook his chin over Martin’s shoulder. “I’m going to end you.”

“Mm-hm,” replied Martin, unperturbed as he selected a box at random from the communal tea/drinks cupboard and setting it by the stove.

“Seriously,” Jon said, remarkably amiable to Martin turning around and returning the squeeze. Even as Martin leaned in to brush the tip of his nose against Jon’s affectionately, Jon threatened, “Pin you to the bed and feather your ears until your head is spinning.”

Martin only smiled, pressing a kiss to Jon’s forehead. “Sounds lovely. After the plans we already have for tonight, though, alright?”

“We?”

“You read the itinerary,” Martin grinned. “Any notes?”

Feeling his face catch fire again and a stubborn smile begin to grow in the wake of Martin continuing to plant kissing on his forehead, Jon let his head fall, burying it in Martin’s chest this time. He shook his head.

“Perfect. Then, if you still feel the need for revenge after that, if you feel anything but happy and content, my ears are all yours.”

“Good,” Jon replied, tempted to spend the rest of the afternoon right there against Martin’s chest until evening could come and he could be pinned beneath Martin’s hands and monstrously beautiful smile.

[ashes-in-a-jar]

The Purrfect Alternative

Premise: Why would there be a cat in the archives? An archive cat fixit.

2.7K words

Rated G

(Tw: A bit of violence but it's against Jurgen Leitner)

This is a fic dedicated to the @jonsimsandcats event! Hope you enjoy it :)

"Sorry, you haven't seen a cat, have you?"

Jon gaped at the larger man who suddenly barged into the office. 

"I-I'm sorry, a what?"

"Uh, a cat, tabby I think." The man hurriedly explained.

"No. No I haven't. Is it.. Supposed to be here?" Jon knew book shops sometimes kept cats. Perhaps archives did as well. Maybe Gertrude had a soft spot in her after all.

"N-no actually. I, uh, I was feeding it on the way in but when I got up with my things, well, my hands were full you see, so when I managed to open the door it sort of slipped in with me? I'm so sorry, I have to find it before-"

"Okay okay calm down, stop." Jon held up his hand and let out a sigh. First day of the promotion and he's already stressed. But it's fine. He's fine. He can handle a cat. He's good with cats.

"Where do you work? Upstairs? Are you sure it came down here?"

"Yes, I saw it. And I just started working down here today? I'm Martin. Blackwood." He offered a hand. Jon automatically took it. Big and soft. He let go a bit too quickly and coughed. 

"Work here? Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to let Jonathan Sims know about becoming an archival assistant. He's the head archivist Elias told me to talk to."

"Well that's one thing to cross off your list." Jon smirked. "I'm Jonathan Sims. Jon, if you please. And Elias did not mention you. Tim and Sasha were supposed to be the only new recruits." Jon frowned to himself. He'll have to have a word with Elias about this. It's fine now that it happened but keeping Jon updated could really help in preventing these kinds of awkward introductions with people he's supposed to work closely with.

"O-oh! Well, here I am now too." Martin chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

Jon hummed "So you are I suppose. Well, let's not waste time on trivial matters, there is a cat that needs to be found." Jon got up from his chair.

"O-oh god, you're right. I'm so sorry for this." The other man apologized, remembering why he was there in the first place. It was clear that he now realized that the fact that the person he's asking to help him clear up his mess is his new boss could be very problematic for him. Jon easily sympathized with that kind of familiar pressure.

"It's alright, let's just, get this sorted." Jon was not willing to admit that a part of him was also just looking forward to seeing the cat. It would help distract him from his own stress, as it were.

Ten minutes later the two of them sitting on the floor in the stacks with a chubby tabby cat sprawled on Jon's lap. Jon was petting it affectionately while amicably getting acquainted with his new assistant. The man turned out to be a library veteran with useful cataloging skills that could help with the mess that was left down here. Having calmed down considerably, Martin had stopped fidgeting and was cooing at the cat who was head butting his large palm. Their presence soothed Jon in a way that surprised him. In the tranquil, quiet atmosphere of the stacks, sounds of cat purrs and Martin's low murmurs, he felt almost optimistic that despite his lack of experience and the large task ahead of them, he would be alright. 

-------

Paper meowed loudly behind him as Martin hurried down the tunnel with Jon and Tim at his tail. Martin glanced back as he reached an intersection and noticed they were too far behind, Jon limping on his injured foot. He hesitated, stopping and waiting for them to catch up. Paper came up and rubbed his leg before trotting down the tunnel on the right, tail held high and confident. Martin inhaled deeply to catch his breath, starting to walk again, this time more slowly. They managed to leave most of the fast worms behind and the ones down here were few and sparse enough to easily stomp down individually. Paper was making a game out of it.  He kept leaping onto some that crawled ahead of them, squishing them loudly with his paw. 

Jon and Tim caught up and the three followed Paper down the dark passage. 

"Yeah, get the damn crawlers." Slurred Tim. The CO2 he inhaled was not helping his coherency. 

"You know," gasped Jon, "I actually think they're larvae, given Jane's statement and-" 

"Jon, I'm going to have to ask you to stop now." Martin said, as calmly as he could, his voice a tad too high and loud. 

"... Sorry." Jon said sheepishly. 

They followed Paper down the forking paths, hoping the cat knew where in the seven circles of hell they were. 

Eventually they stopped seeing any worms as the path sloped up, ending in a sudden door. There was daylight filtering in from beneath it. Paper was eagerly pawing at it. 

"Uh, I think we found a secret way out of the institute." Martin could hardly believe their luck. 

"Excellent, now I can ditch work and no one will know I even left." Tim mumbled. 

"Tim, if you wanted to succeed in that endeavor, you should have not said that next to your boss." Jon commented dryly. 

The worm threat no longer being imminent, Martin allowed himself a nervous chuckle. 

They pushed at the door and with a bit of group effort, eventually managed to pry it open into fresh air. They came out into a narrow alleyway which turned out to be not far from the institute. As they walked (limped) down the street to find access to a working phone they heard someone cry out. 

"Jon? Tim? Martin!" They spotted Sasha hurrying towards them, carrying heavy bags of cat food. 

"Sasha! You're okay!" Martin exclaimed. "We were worried you'd get back and be caught in it like Tim had."

"Where have you been?" Jon inquired, straining to stand upright on his own. Martin came closer, gently supporting him by the hip on the opposite side of Tim. 

"We ran out of food for Paper, I figured I'd pop by the store for a moment to get some." Sasha said. "I came back when the building was being evacuated."

"Oh good, at least the alarm worked." Tim said tiredly. 

"What in god's name happened to you three?" She inquired worriedly. 

"Prentiss, we'll fill you in later. We need to make sure the ECDC is informed regarding the CO2 in the fire suppression system that needs to be activated."

"And get you to a hospital." Martin chastised, squeezing Jon's side. 

"Yes yes." Jon waved dismissively but all the while leaning further into Martin's side. He really wasn't discreet, Martin thought smugly. 

Sasha was about to say something else when a loud meow interrupted her. Paper was nosing into the bag, fully aware of its contents and who they were meant for. 

Jon dislodged from Martin and Tim and hobbled towards the cat. 

The cat turned and moved back into Jon's welcoming arms, as the archivist picked him up and stroked him fondly. 

"We are lucky on all accounts that Paper is such a smart cat." He murmured into the soft fur, injury forgotten for the moment. 

Tim chuckled, "cats always ruin evil people's plans, it's a well known fact. Anyway, Sasha, please call an ambulance for us?" He said, and promptly sat on the floor. 

Martin sighed with relief. For now, they are all safe and together. And that's all that matters. 

-------

It was all almost too much to take in. Luckily Paper was held tight in his arms as he listened to Jurgen Leitner ramble on about powers and fears and monsters and Jonah Magnus. He had been chased by a distorted form of his boss, who was apparently replaced by a monster Jon and the crew tried and failed to destroy, thus separating in the ensuing pursuit. In light of these events Jon now needed something soft to ground him in the face of so much new information. 

The discovery of Elias' death was a shock, especially given the fact that apparently it happened when he was trapped in artifact storage during the Prentiss siege a half a year back. 

He (that is, his doppelganger) told them back then that he was trying to reach the suppression system switch when he tripped down the stairs over one of Paper's many scattered toys, alerting Jane in the process and was driven back into the storage area. His account seemed to check out given he was rescued from there by the ECDC after Jane was dealt with. And given the few toys strewn about the stairs leading to artifact storage. Why Paper kept scattering his toys all over the building was beyond Jon but that wasn't the main issue at hand. After trapping the creature in the walls of the tunnels, Jurgen Leitner proceeded to reveal himself. Once Jon dragged him back to his office, and picked the protesting Paper up to calm himself down, he unveiled the truth of Elias', or Jonah's, whole operation. 

Turns out Jonah Magnus decided life was too short to enjoy once and did exactly what eventually happened to him. Talk about karma. Leitner explained that Gertrude's plan was to stop Jonah from... Something he was planning. Perhaps a ritual to end the world in a way the others would fail to do. That bit of information was on a tape of Gertrude which Leitner played for Jon. By the time they reached the part where Leitner said, “they needed to kill Jonah's main body then burn down the archives.” Martin, Tim and Sasha had arrived back at the office as well. 

"Jon? Jon! Are you okay?" Martin rushed forward, hugging Jon tightly, ignoring Paper's loud yowling at being squished in between them. Jon sighed, "Martin, thank god. I-I'm fine." He hugged him back, relieved his boyfriend was safe, as well as his other assistants of course. "It chased after me but he stopped it."

Tim raised his axe, "Jon are you sure he's not... Another one?"

"Yes I'm sure. That" Jon took a deep breath, "is Jurgen Leitner."

After the team's loud exclamations of disbelief he and Leitner updated them on everything they had discussed. As he was being hugged by Martin and holding the fluffy cat he slowly began calming down.

After Leitner was done a long moment of silence ensued.

"So," Sasha said slowly, "Gertrude's dead?"

"Yes, she was shot and then hidden by Jonah in the tunnels. Unfortunately I couldn't get out to allow for a proper burial, so I had to leave her there." He seemed sad admitting it. Jon did not feel sympathy for him. This man deserved none for his past and cowardice.

"And now, we need to, what, somehow find the center of the maze of tunnels to kill Jonah completely and burn the archives?" Sasha asked skeptically. 

"Yes, the whole institute in fact. I have a gas main in the tunnels ready to be ignited once we find the center." Leitner said.

"How do we do that?" Martin frowned.

"Maybe Michael knows?" Tim quipped. "He just helped us out of that situation with his own… corridor labyrinth. Maybe he'll be able to help."

"Okay, okay let's first take a breather and calm down. We'll figure out how to solve this." Jon said, raising his hand to slow them down.

"Yeah, I'll make us some tea." Martin added, "At least now that... Thing won't bother us for a long while."

"Let it burn along with this hell of an institute." Tim said harshly. Knowing how his brother was killed almost the same way, Jon felt strong sympathy for Tim rush over him.

Which was replaced with a different emotion the moment he turned to the man who saved him.

"Thank you for your help, now Martin, I need you to hold Paper for a moment."

Martin, looking baffled, took Paper out of Jon's arms. "Jon wh-"

Jon swiftly approached the older man and proceeded to sock him in the nose with the full force of his fist. The crew gasped in unison. 

"That's for everyone you hurt with your idiocy, you stupid old coward." Jon seethed and punched him again. He heard Martin chuckle and Tim whoop as the man whimpered and attempted to protect his face.

Jon was glad they were spared the horrible plans of a 200 year old evil man and that they had some semblance of a strategy moving forward. He was, however, equally elated for this opportunity to do what he fantasized about since learning of Leitner's existence.

And, he supposes, all of this can be indirectly attributed to Paper, the archive cat.

-------

Jon woke up to the warm snuggle of his lovely fiance and a mouthful of cat fur. 

"Pffff, Paper geerroff," he mumbled, uselessly trying to push the stubborn cat away. The chirping of birds mingled with the sound of highland cows grazing in the field near their cabin. 

After the success of their plan to end Jonah, after the fire had already burned down the horrors of that evil place, it took a while longer for their troubles to be resolved. They had to endure endless questioning and investigations of the police. Jon, who was weakened by the ordeal to the point of needing hospitalization, took a long time to recover and regain his strength. Leitner claimed it was lucky he was cut off from the Eye this early, or the consequences would have been much more serious. The others seemed to have been less affected, but once the archives were completely reduced to ashes they recovered, their jobs burned down along with everything else. 

Sasha found a new job as a researcher in a prestigious institute, nothing supernatural involved. Tim moved on to journalism, utilizing his curiosity and charm to their full potential. Jon and Martin opened a tea & book shop, if only to make Paper a real bookshop cat. They have been slowly setting it up and settling down until... Well, Jon proposed and they took a break. Traveled to Scotland with Paper on an early honeymoon to see the cows and enjoy the quiet. 

And quiet it was. Until Paper shamelessly began purring as loud as a train right in Jon's ear. Jon huffed in fond annoyance and got up, leaning down to give Martin a kiss on the head and then shooing the crime of a cat off to the kitchen. 

"You can't give me a moment of reprieve, can you?" He stretched and followed the cat out the bedroom. 

He filled Paper's bowl and sat on the floor leaning his back on the cabinet, closing his eyes as Paper chewed his food noisily. 

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was awakened by a soft tap on his head. He looked up blearily and smiled. The cat had long since finished eating and found a home in Jon's lap. 

"Morning love." Martin murmured softly, matching his tone to the serene atmosphere. After hesitating a moment, he bent down and sat next to Jon. Jon looked at him adoringly as he absent-mindedly stroked Paper, humming along to his purrs. Martin joined him, petting Paper, their hands occasionally (and very purposefully) brushing against each other. 

After a few minutes of calm silence, Martin spoke up. 

"You know, this reminds me of that first day we met. In the stacks."

Jon smiled at the memory. "Ahh yes, all three of us had a very fateful meeting there, didn't we? God, I was so stressed back then." 

"You handled it pretty well I have to say. Handled my nervousness pretty well too." Martin chuckled. 

"I was lucky you were there. You really helped me calm down." Jon admitted. "Well, you and Paper." Jon added fondly. 

"Paper was a really good archive cat wasn't he?" Martin said, leaning into Jon, pressing a warm, still sleepy kiss on his cheek. Jon closed his eyes, grateful for the events that led up to this moment of pure happiness, with his fiance and his cat. 

"Yes, the best cat in the world."

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

But We Have To Try

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/HcMiReK by SpaceDustMantis The first thing Martin knows after the world ends for the second time, is that he's no longer in that hellscape he called home for who knows how long. The second thing Martin knows after the world ends for the second time, with a finality that knocks the breath out of his lungs, is that he is indubitably, undeniably, utterly alone. At that thought he scoffs. Not like that's anything new. --- After driving a knife into the heart of the love of his life, Martin Blackwood finds himself in the Archives, years before the world ended. Or, mum said it's my turn with the time travel fix it fic. It's been done a thousand times before, but if it ain't broke why fix it? Words: 2999, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, he's mentioned, Original Characters, so far we have one and he's only mentioned on the side Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Hurt Martin Blackwood, Grief/Mourning, Vomiting, Blood and Violence, only in his memories tho, tim stoker is a good friend, set in early s1 and also post mag200, Post-Canon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Oh almost forgot, Temporary Character Death, KIND OF I GUESS, spoiler warning jon isn't actually dead read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/HcMiReK

[podcastbigbang]

[ID: Promotional image for Entities and Earthlings, a Stellar Firma and Magnus Archives crossover fanfiction. The art is AI generated and square in formate the base colour is a muted greenish black.The image seems to be showing space and its various constellations. In the top right corner is a wide array of constellations and clusters of stars with a large planet closest to the corner. Dead center of the image is an abstract space station,It is rectangular with giant prongs pointing towards the stars and emerging planets. Shadows darker than the dark green space around it emerge from around ‘Stellar Firma’, reaching out like tendrils towards the celestial bodies. The bottom third of the image is taken up by white text with black borders. In five lines it reads “Stellar Firma x Magnus Archives, Entities and Earthlings, Author: EbenRoseTaylor, Betas: franzis-frantic-thoughts, cuddlytogas, Artists: sirensaviors, jawbonemage.” END ID]

Entities and Earthlings

Podcast: Stellar Firma & The Magnus Archives

Rating: T+

Pairings: David7&Trexel Geistman, David7&IMOGEN, David7&Hartro Piltz, Trexel Geistman & Hartro Piltz. Background pairing Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood. Possible David 7/Bathin one sided pining.

[JONMARTIN] detected.

[SECURITY] alerted.

A post MAG200 fic set during Season 1 of Stellar Firma. Jon and Martin are requesting a planet to contain the newly evicted Entities and starve them to death. Trexel Geistman and David 7 are the planet designers in charge of the creation of this celestial body. Will Trexel and David 7 be responsible for the death and suffering of billions through their incompetence? Given their current track record, it seems likely. But there’s always room for hope, and there’s only one way to find out!

AUTHOR

@ebenrosetaylor

Just an artist performing CPR on the Stellar Firma fandom. If you like tma, let this fic be a bridge to a new world. I normally animate and teach art, but writing on the side helps with burnout.

BETAS

@franzis-frantic-thoughts

Writing a fic for this BB myself wasn’t enough responsibility, so here I am adding my opinion to others’ works.

@cuddlytogas

Finding new and interesting ways to tell everyone I know to listen to Stellar Firma.

ARTISTS

@sirensaviors

Howdy I’m Loon! I joined because I adored this fic idea as soon as Eben pitched it and I really love Stellar Firma. This Pod deserves so much more love and I am determined to help give it to it!

@jawbonemage

Doc or Fig! High schooler who definitely had enough free time to commit to this stress-free. Big fan of pomegranates.

[venfx]

magnus fic roundup

as tma comes to a close, i thought i'd post some of my favorite fics to come out of this fandom. most of these are classics, listed in no particular order.

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed​ | 3K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

↳ this is such a well-done exploration of jon’s character and his relationship with touch, and i’ve re-read it at least five times. sweet and sad and phenomenally well-written.

in the chillest land and on the strangest sea by imperfectcircle, singlecrow | 20K | Safehouse, S1-S4 | Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin | Complete

Jon remembers a statement he read years ago given by a Jesuit priest, who said that the shortest prayer he knew was, just, fuck it, as in fuck it; it's in God's hands. He takes Daisy's hand and trails on after her.

or; hope is a thing with feathers.

↳ hey, you wanna fuckin..... feel things? read this.

The Magnus Institute vs the 21st Century: a series of emails and IMs by shinyopals | 26K | Series | S3 | Pre-Jon/Martin | Complete

The Magnus Institute hires a Data Protection Officer. He sets about diligently booking in meetings, writing policy documents, and training all the staff in the importance of confidentiality. Now if only he could get hold of the Head Archivist, who seems to have vanished again...

(Jon is only trying to save the world, but apparently some people think he should still be doing his day job.)

↳ i’d be surprised to find people who haven’t read this series, but it’s the definition of “the magnus archives is a workplace comedy”. also, alasdair stuart has actually read some clips of this on Twitch, so that’s a fun bonus.

Bell, Book, and Candle by yellow_caballero | 102K | Series | S3 into S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete 

In accordance with the Ride or Die Pact of 2009, Jonathan Sims can call upon Georgie Barker at any time for aid with no strings attached. Despite their rocky history, their childhood friendship, and Jon’s barely recovered alcoholism, this pact is sacred and must be upheld.

Georgie Barker may regret this. She may regret it when she discovers that the world is full of monsters and eldritch gods and dickhead managers. She may regret it when a punk rocker who should be dead collapses on their doorstep, a teenager again who needs their help. She may regret it when her stupid ex-boyfriend starts selling his soul for knowledge and the ability to keep his new family safe.

But she probably won’t. Georgie isn’t scared of anything - not a Clown’s apocalypse, not the apocalypse that Jon is destined to begin, and not Jon’s own loss of humanity.

Maybe she should be.

↳ if you’re looking for an everyone-lives-no-one-dies-happy-ending fic that also happens to be massively chaotic, look no further. 

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps​ | 98K | AU, S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete

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.

↳ quintessential time travel AUs. plot-wise, i feel like these can be difficult to write, but op does a fantastic job of tying things together in a way that makes sense. plus, it’s just fun to read.

jon sims v the nhs by @thoughtsbubble​ | 12K | Series | S3 | Complete

Joan Bright has a new patient. He's carrying an old tape recorder and is covered head to toe in scars. Jonathan Sims looks dangerous, but Dr Bright has dealt with all sorts of atypical individuals. She has no reason to be nervous.

Right?

↳ if you’ve ever thought “hey, jon should probably go to therapy”, then 1) you’re absolutely right and 2) this is... probably what would’ve happened. prior knowledge of The Bright Sessions is not required. also, apparently, this fic is written by the showrunner of The Underwood Collection? wild.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles | 9K | S4 | Complete

It’s Basira who catches onto it.

The collective shift that seems to come over them when heading in or out of the Institute. Not just the oppressive sensation of being observed, their every move catalogued for the voyeuristic cravings of some unseen Eye(s). That feeling remained with them even when they left the Institute these days, but it was always stronger inside its walls. That wasn’t the change. Nor was it the point.

The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.

↳ i think being part of the avengers fandom circa 2012 has given me permanent found-family-trope brainrot, but you know what. jonathan sims can have a little happiness, as a treat. 

Road to Damascus by @titanfalling​ | 107K | Series | S4 | Jon & Tim | Complete

n. an important moment of insight, typically one that leads to a dramatic transformation of attitude or belief

Or, in which Tim becomes an avatar for the end of all things.

↳ tim dies and then he doesn’t. there is catharsis and world building. just....read it.

Come, Change Your Ring With Me by @backofthebookshelf​ | 29K | S3 | Peter/Jon, Jon/Martin, Peter/Elias | Complete

The Lukases demand the Archivist marry into the family, and the Institute relies on them too much to say no. Peter is smug. Elias is fuming. Martin is suffering. Jon thinks this might be tolerable if only Peter would hurry up and leave him alone already.

OR, the soap opera we call an Archives revolves around Peter Lukas this time.

↳ superb evil-bastards-in-love content, feat. martin pining, tim being obnoxious, and jon being... well, tired, mostly. i will literally never get tired of how op writes peter. 

creatures that i briefly move along by @dotsayers​ | 16K | Series | AU, Post-S4 | background Jon/Martin 

Mr Sims was so weird, was the thing. Miss Grant always said calling people weird was rude, and Anna sort of agreed, but she didn’t know what other word to use to describe Mr Sims.

He’d only been in with the class for a few days, really, and half of that he just sat at the back listening, but that didn’t stop her from making a swift judgement. 5BG had had student teachers before, back when they were 3ST, and they’d been uniformly normal.

Mr Sims was… actually, Anna had a better adjective. He was interesting.

↳ i just.... love teacher!jon fics. this series delivers. 

Once Bitten by @apatheticbutterflies | 1K | S4 | Jon & Daisy | Complete

Jon Sims has always been a jumpy kind of guy. Nervous. Twitchy. Daisy used to think it meant he was guilty. Turns out he was. Just not of what she’d thought.

Daisy learns how to peel an orange.

↳ daisy and jon’s relationship is an example of an instance where i’m happy to say “fuck what you wrote mr. jonny ‘chocolate torte of tragedy’ sims, i want them to be friends”.

pins and needles by mutterandmumble | 13K | S1-S4 | Complete

He’s got a reputation to uphold anyways; an uptight, rigid reputation that dictates the way that he interacts and functions and is such an integral part of him that he can’t let go of it anytime soon. He likes his safety nets. He likes his contingencies. He likes his privacy, and everything around this place right down to the walls seems to have ears, so he’ll stay tight-lipped up to and beyond the threat of death.

He’s good at that.

In which Jon takes up embroidery and bumbles through life the best that he can.

↳ out of all the introspective jon pieces i’ve read (and there are many), this one stands out. maybe it’s the symbolism or the characterisation, or maybe it’s the fact that i have an embroidery kit lurking in the back of my closet along with a hundred other half-pursued hyperfixations. whatever. this is excellent.

sleeping in by @ivelostmyspectacles | 5K | S2 | Jon/Tim | Complete

“Who are you trying to convince?”

Jon gives up, letting his head sag against Tim’s shoulder. “I don’t know.”

aka Elias gets tired of Jon and Tim's bickering, sends them away for a "team-building" weekend trip, and is sure to book them a room with only one bed

↳ this has everything you’d need from a “oh no there’s only one bed” fic. someone please get these men therapy.

if you try, sometimes (you get what you knead) by @ajcrawly​ | 3.5K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin, Tim/Sasha | Complete

It starts with an abundance of boeuf bourguignon and ends up as a team tradition.

Food and love in uncertain times.

↳ more found family fic, this time with a diverse og!archival staff and food as a metaphor for love. hurt in all the right ways. made me hungry in the process.