#magnuscc

[wildcmbcrsupdates]

voguescandinavia: Muse, mood manager and DJ maestro – @magnuscc has done it all within the walls of @acnestudios since the ‘90s. All those decades ago, his very singular sense of style caught the eye of #JonnyJohansson, the #Swedish brand’s creative director, who quickly tapped Carlsson to curate the atmosphere of Acne Studios’ showrooms and #Stockholm headquarters. Now, Johansson pays tribute to Carlsson with the release of a limited-edition book, My Friend Magnus that offers a glimpse into the distinctive fashion archive of his long-time friend.

Alva Bratt via voguescandinavia on Instagram, 12/15/2023.

[zannakai]

“When Jon, Sasha, and Tim take over the Magnus Institute archives in 2015, it comes with rumours of a ghost which Jon immediately dismisses. But a little research shows that someone did disappear from the Institute - a library assistant with few distinguishing features and even fewer connections - and he becomes a side project for the fracturing archival team, bringing them together over the mystery of who Martin Blackwood was, and what happened to him in 2003.”

Check out @cuddlytogas fics or this years @tmabigbang : Missing, Presumed Dead!

A great story with suspense, emotions, and comedy that keeps you on the edge of your seat for the whole ride!

Many thanks to @jawbonemage for help with the image ID!

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Sasha, Jon, and Tim from the Magnus Archives in a brightly lit restaurant with light yellow walls. The three of them are seated around a brown table with files and papers on it, in a booth with red seats, while other patrons talk behind them. Sasha, a woman with long curly brown hair and pale skin, is to the left, and is holding a pencil in her right. She is wearing a teal button-up with the sleeves rolled up, orange suspenders, and a tan skirt; her hair is tied back in a low ponytail. Jon, a man with light brown skin and short salt-and-pepper hair, and has pulled up a chair to the table, seated in the middle of the group. He is wearing glasses, a white formal shirt, and a sage green cardigan. Tim, a mixed Asian man with light brown skin and a black buzzcut is leaning forward with his left arm propped up on the table. He is wearing a short-sleeved button-up over a gray T-shirt, and has on jeans with a brown belt. All three are looking towards the middle of the table with their drinks raised. /End Image ID.]

[ducksanddairy]

My submission for the @magnuscc​ challenge! I drew Tim Stoker with the silver worms from season 1!

ill be posting some process pics soon so if u wanna see that stick around!

[captaincravatthecapricious]

“I can’t feel no remorse. You don’t feel nothing bad.” -Ophelia by the Lumineers

@magnuscc

[cryke-art]

a day late but heres my @magnuscc ! my prompt was immortal by marina and the diamonds so i drew some dasira.

[Image Description: a three panel comic that reads “there’ll be just one survivor, the memory that i was yours and you were mine.” panel 1: the top of basira’s face and the bottom of daisy’s as they stand beside each other in police uniforms. basira’s eyes are golden and daisy’s lips are red. panel 2: daisy and basira topless from the shoulders up. basira has her face buried in daisy’s shoulder. daisy has her arm thrown around basira shoulders and is looking neutrally upward. there is a red smudge over her eyes. panel 3: daisy reaching out for basira. they are holding hands and there is a red smudge over their joined hands but basira’s other hand is holding a golden pile of papers to her chest instead of reaching out of daisy’s other hand. End Description]

[indigomagpie222]

Episode 39: Infestation

This is an older one--I’m hoping my people drawing skills have improved since, but I’ve just remembered this was the one I wanted to use for the Magnus CC challenge! My color theme was gray.

@magnuscc

[sagukaicreationschallenge]

Secret Santa

Hey everyone! I apologize for being absent this past month, I’ve been having some health difficulties. Since the holiday season is approaching, I was wondering if you guys would want to do a Secret Santa Exchange instead of regular challenge rounds for Nov-Dec. No physical gifts would be exchanged, just fics, art, etc. Fill out this google form to tell me which one you would be interested in so I can set up stuff for November!

Google Form: https://forms.gle/GJmBzj2oZE5eUXzQ6

[lyricata]

A doodle collection for @magnuscc challenge. I wanted to draw it sooner and digital but life got the best of me. So here are doodles that I managed to do and a digital one of the eye.

Even tho the prompt is daily lives i decided to do a little spin with the eye and incorporate a little eye like it's watching.

I wanted to humanize all the fears but welp time is a nasty thing.

So for the drawings

1. The eye as a manager of sorts or a person who is in charge of watching someone. Didn't really think of a job.

2. The buried as a grave digger because earth and all and there are quite a few stories of people being buried alive out there.

3. The vast as a pilot as a pilot can see all the blue sky and if flying over the sea it's all vast and blue. It's a fat pilot because it's kinda vast in size.

4. The slaughter and as appropriate for it he is a butcher.

So that's that. It's been a nice challenge and I'll try to enter in another and try to do better!

[magnuscc]

The Magnus Archives Creations Challenge - JULY 2019 - ROUND 2

Hi there, everyone! Welcome to the second round of the Magnus Archives Creations Challenge! This challenge is open to a wide variety creations, the only stipulation is that the creation has to be centered around The Magnus Archives. For this month, the general prompt is MYTHOLOGY.

What’s a Creations Challenge?

It’s a monthly challenge that encourages the creation of fanworks for a certain topic/ship/character.

How to Enter:

Reblog this post by JUNE 30th.

Send me an ask or direct message saying “participating for July + what you’ll be making” (i.e. fanart, graphics, fanfic).

If you don’t receive a reply of some kind within two days, message me again. I likely did not receive your last message.

I will probably contact you via tumblr DMs unless you tell me in your initial message that’d you’d like me to contact you some other way.

Please look at the rules.

What Happens Next:

I will reply to your message with your prompt.

The deadline for this round will be JULY 25th.

Tag your creation with #MagnusCC within the first five tags.

Tag the blog or DM me saying your creation has been posted.

If you find yourself unable to post on time, send me a message as soon as possible.

Additional Information:

Your creation will be reblogged to the blog.

There are no winners or losers, this is purely for fun & to show our love of these adorable cuties.

If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask!

For more information, please check out the blog.

[the-kestrels-feather]

At the End of time

This is my contribution for the @magnuscc July challenge! My prompt was 'Order and Chaos', so I decided to do Jon at the center of The Watcher's Crown!

((Mind the TWs- I can't put a read more thing since I'm on mobile))

Desc.: Jon's final thoughts as the Watcher's Crown succeeds.

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard (mentioned), Alice 'Daisy' Tonner (mentioned), Martin Blackwood (mentioned), Melanie King (mentioned)

TW: Body horror, specifically Eye horror, talk of death, talk of wishing for death, brief mention of disembodied eyes

It was almost peaceful, at the center of The Watcher's Crown. The world slowed around Jon as he lay upon the altar. He tried to close his eyes to the images that swirled around him in slow motion, but as one set of eyes closed the others opened, forcing themselves through his skin and protruding from any available tract of flesh. The ashen gray iris on his elbow fluttered open and focused itself on Elias, who was lowering the Crown on to his head. The Eyes adorning the metal gazed down at the stray eye, and for a moment Jon swore he saw a hint of joy in their disembodied stares. Another amber colored one on his neck caught Melanie's blade as she rushed toward Elias with eyes that were hungry for blood. Jon couldn't help but root for her, he wanted the bastard who'd entrapped him here dead just as much as she did. Though she wouldn't succeed. He Knew she wouldn't. It was too late for that. The sapphire one protruding from his left wrist began to well up when it caught sight of Martin rushing towards the cold stone Jon was stretched out on top of, the beginnings of a scream etched onto his tear-stained face.

I'm so sorry Martin, Jon thought, I failed you. I failed everyone.

Memories of an apple with teeth embedded in its core and computer keys torn from the keyboard and shoved into the mouth of a desperate woman swirled through his mind, The Eye's need for information threatening to crack his skull in two. The Ceaseless Watcher needed nourishment to fully emerge on the world, and the brain of The Archivist was a 4-course feast. How humiliating, he thought, to lose everything that made him human and destroy the lives of so many people, only to find out he was nothing more than a food source for the Eye to help gather its strength. As if he didn't already hate how willing he had been to allow Elias to lead him down here and take him through the steps needed to complete the ritual.

This was where he was meant to die, and he didn't need his Patron to know that. Part of him wished he could let Daisy use her renewed Hunt instincts to put the bullet he Knew she had loaded into his chest.  But a quick death was more than he deserved now, he was to stay alive until The Eye had finished its meal, the eyes adorning his body now were to be used for little more than to take the final crumbs of fear from those around him. Still though, death at any rate was better than what was to come. These last few moments were it for this reality. The world as he'd known it was fading, and one fueled by pain and fear would rise in its place. The world he'd unwillingly helped to create, ruled by a malevolent God he'd willingly given himself to in the end. He wished he could free those around him from the apocalypse to come, usher them all off to some world where the Eye couldn't see them, or even have them join him in death. But he was powerless to do anything but watch in this moment.

Jon was beginning to fade, he could feel it now. The supply of statements was dwindling, and the Eye was growing stronger. It wasn't until his own statement was ripped from him though that the word suddenly sprang to life again. He heard Melanie screaming with rage mixing with Martin's sobs of desperation as images flashed through his head like a movie on fast forward.

His grandmother's Persian rug he would spread himself on when he read. Mister Spider wants more. The childhood bully dragged through a door by thin gray threads. A brief flash of Georgie's face as she leaned in to kiss him. Taking the job as Head Archivist. Martin smiling at him when he thought Jon wasn't looking. Sasha, the real Sasha, followed by the being that stole her away. The inside of an explosion ripping through the House of Wax. Climbing out of The Coffin with Daisy in tow. Staring into the Dark Sun. Elias telling him to lay upon the altar, that it would all be over soon.

Reality came back to Jon for one fleeting moment, long enough for him to see a swirling black eye open on the ceiling above him, staring down at the scene before it. Jon blinked in the light surrounding it as two words popped into his head.

Thank you.

And as The Eye and its living Avatar unleashed its reign of terror and confusion upon the world, so too did the many eyes of The Archivist close forever.

[mixedscholarlybag]

Too Much With Us; Late and Soon

[read on AO3]

Rating: Gen

Characters: Martin Blackwood

Summary: Martin considers the end of the world.

Written for the Magnus Archives Creations Challenge @magnuscc​

Theme: Mythology | Prompt: Prophecy

~

The world is always ending.

It takes surprisingly little time and googling for Martin to figure out what the numbers in Gary Boylan’s statement mean. And when he does figure it out for a split second he thinks, that’s it?

And then he thinks, Christ, Martin, isn’t that enough?

But, another part of him says, of course the world is always ending. It’s a useless prophecy, a futile warning. The world ends and it ends and it ends and here they still are, humanity, and here he still is, Martin, alone in a world that can’t end soon enough.

He sighs, slow and long, and shivers, tugging down the sleeves of his jumper over his hands. It doesn’t help.

The world is always ending.

Martin feels utterly adrift and absolutely useless. But what had he expected? Some kind of signpost? A series of omens to tell him what he should be doing? A clear-cut revelation with trumpets and seven stars?

Instead there is just this: a slow decline into a chilly isolation. An office that still doesn’t feel like it belongs to him. And a set of numbers from a nearly ten year old statement to remind him that the world is always ending.

Martin’s world has ended so many times he’s lost count. Has ended and ended and ended without any warning, except in hindsight. He’s not going to get any answers from a clever rhyme, or from staring long enough into a mug of tea.

He sighs again and goes to make himself a fresh cup.

As the kettle rumbles towards a boil, he thinks of the statement, thinks of the ruin of Gary Boylan’s home. Thinks of a devastated museum. He taps his fingers softly against the counter but there’s no-one in here. There’s never anyone in here. He lets his hands flutter off the counter, batting at nothing in the air.

The world is always ending, in loud explosions and in quiet hospital rooms. Martin’s legs are shaking and he presses himself back against the counter, trying to stop them. He wants to cry but when has that ever accomplished anything except for a dehydration headache.

The soft click of the kettle turning off makes him flinch and all in a rush he hates himself. The world, he thinks, can’t end soon enough.

But he pours the hot water over a tea bag and stirs in his milk and goes back to Elias’s – his – office. A pad of foolscap on the desk still says the world is always ending and he wants to throw something. His legs are still trembling and he sits down hard behind Elias’s – his – desk and wishes he could glean something else from the numbers, from the statements, from the whorls in the hardwood of the desk.

The tea is a little too hot to drink but he sips from it anyway, wincing even as he relishes its heat.

Here’s a prediction, he thinks, here’s how the world is going to end.

Just like this: Martin, uncomfortable and alone in an office that doesn’t really belong to him, drinking tea that is too hot so that he can feel something that’s not an aching emptiness.

Just another silent apocalypse in a world that’s always ending.

[stopitjon]

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims Additional Tags: canon-typical sadness, mutual not-quite-pining, but something of the sort, magnus archives creations challenge Words: 1142

Hey, it’s my entry for @magnuscc! My prompt was “ivory,” and if you’ve interacted with me for more than two seconds, you won’t be surprised to see where my mind immediately went. ANYWHO, here’s your excerpt:

“The bones were dry in Martin’s hands, a melancholy ivory stripped of everything but time. Well preserved, after two-hundred years housed in a building dedicated to documents and dusty memories, but little else could be said for them. They whispered no secrets, revealed no preternatural power. No passions yet survived, stamped on the lifeless things. They were, he knew, no more Barnabas Bennett than the mug he had left down in the Archives was Martin Blackwood.”

[zannakai]

The mug is almost always in a different position. That means someone washes it almost every day. That means someone uses it. That means Jon knows he’s ok. (“Dishes” for @magnuscc. Mug design based off of @thekao’s Mondo Mango)

[statementends]

Orange Sky

Characters: Jon Pairings: Gen, hints of Basira/Daisy and Jon/Martin Rating: Canon typical Warnings: Canon typical, nothing too graphic, but all the powers are at least mentioned, mention of canonical character deaths

Summary: After spending three days in Too Close I Cannot Breathe Jon needs to see the sky. 

For @magnuscc the challenge can be found here. This month’s theme is Colours and my prompt was Orange.  --

The dirt clung to him and every muscle in his body ached, but Jon slowly climbed the stairs of the institute up and up and up.

After some furious and confused words he had left. Basira was looking after Daisy, they had a lot to talk about. They had a lot of…

He let the thought fall away too tired to finish it. He reached the roof access and stepped through to the orange dawn. The sky over London seemed to go on forever. A fiery glow that covered the city. He felt wet tears trail down his face, leaving muddy lines. He staggered, feeling the fresh cold spring air on his face. Open sky. He wept.

It could snatch him up and he didn’t think he’d care.

Jon let himself breath in and out over and over again. He had felt the crushing fear of the buried before, in the statements, in the dreams, but that had been…

He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

The last three days, the last few weeks, the last few years all hit him at once. He was afraid. He was so afraid.

Because that was going to be his end, wasn’t it? Maybe not the Buried, but something just as horrible and everlasting. Terminal velocity, or endless burning pain. Spider webs tugging him in all directions, his skin peeled off, being stabbed in blind rage, or hunted with cool intent. Going mad through endless corridors, or his bones pulled from his body, or worms under his skin building a nest. He had already tasted each of them.

And he would be alone, and in darkness, and watched throughout it all.

Jon looked up angrily at the blazing sky. A ring of clouds made a corona of light. Eye-like, burning burnt golden orange. He wanted to laugh, but it came out more as a sob. How ironic, the power that everyone feared most death was the kindest, and that Jon Knew he would never get to face it.

And if by some luck the others didn’t get him, then it probably meant he would be doing it to others. That he would grow into the monster Elias wanted him to become.

He let himself sink to the ground, folding his legs against his chest. His tears stopped. He didn’t have the luxury for it. Daisy had been through hell, had spent months in there. Basira had been holding the archives together. Melanie had been almost consumed by rage and slaughter, and Martin…

And none of them trusted him. They didn’t even like him, which was a stupid thought. He never cared about being liked, and it was the least of his problems now… but maybe he was tired of being resented. Tired of being at fault for powers so far out of his control... even if he did blame himself all the same. He has powers, he should at least be able to protect someone with them.

Tell that to Tim. He thought bitterly. To Helen. To Leitner. To Sasha.

He still couldn’t remember her face. Couldn’t remember what she was really like. He had memorized the tapes, hearing a young woman he didn’t recognise happily banter with him over the pronunciation of Calliope. And no one could morn her properly. Anyone that knew her remembered the creature that took her place. They wouldn’t remember the real Sasha.

He… wanted to ask Melanie… but Melanie wasn’t… no.

No point in asking.

He sighed. The clouds had broken apart. The orange sky was fading off into blue, and along with it any energy he had left. He was tired. Bone achingly tired. He felt no triumph at all. It was the very least he could do for Daisy...and for Basira. And--

Well the very worst thing was… he had wanted to save her of course. He went there for her, but another part of him…

The stupid monster part of him had wanted to know. To see first hand what was down there. To open the box labeled ‘do not open’ and see what kind of torture awaited. To feel the dirt crushing against him. The darkness surrounding him. Revel in the claustrophobia setting in as he breathed in mud. The fear of knowing he would never escape.  He had wanted that… and … in doing that… for a moment he had felt...whole.

It would be worse now. The sea swirling at the back of his mind held back by a flimsy door strained to keep it all back.

He wondered if it would be easier… without them. He wasn’t like Gertrude. He could never feed someone to the Spiral in the name of the greater good without hesitation or guilt. Bind a man to a book that had haunted him throughout his childhood.

Tim had died… but that… it was different. He felt it was different. Maybe because he felt about it at all. She wouldn’t have, he was sure of it.

But, if there was no Martin, Sasha, Tim, or any of the others, he wondered if maybe he wouldn’t mind becoming the monster.

The monster felt easy. He was so terrified. But he still wanted to know. He had always wanted to know. Even before the archives. He could never just… walk away. Even now, trying to imagine life if he could free the others and himself from the Archives…

Even now he just imagined himself there. Tether cut, but still among the files and tapes. Listening. Hearing the statements. Learning.

Elias would be so pleased...

But Elias was wrong. His ...friends… his colleagues weren’t tools to examine, use, and ultimately discard. They might not trust him, or like him, but it didn’t matter. They kept him wanting to be human. And that was enough. It had to be.

“What happened, Martin?”

“You died.”

“I came back.”

“Yeah… and I’m not going to let it happen again.”  

Right.

He pulled himself up still sore and muddy and cold. He would shower and dress and do his best to protect them, because they were the last bit of Jonathan Sims that he could hold on to.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

“Jon... you should have just stayed home and gotten some rest.”

@magnuscc

Prompt was shopping.

[cryke-art]

i know this is hella early but when i got the prompt “moon and sun” for my @magnuscc challenge i HAD to start right away !!! here you have it! sasha as the sun and not!sasha as the moon ;)

[Image Description: a drawing of sasha and not!sasha against a purple background. sasha is drawn as a ball jointed doll who is being puppetted by strings held by not!sasha. sasha is a fat woman with round lasses, tan skin, and long brown hair. not!sasha is a thin white woman with a short blonde pixie cut, pointed teeth, sharp pink nails, and black eyes. there is a silver crescent moon around not!sashas head and a gold sunburst halo around sasha’s. sasha is wearing a silver heart lock on her neck and not! sasha is wearing a pink choker with a golden key on it. End Description]