#the magnus archive fanfic

[elijah-loyal]

what if i wrote tma fanfic

what then

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

The Spiral Parking Lot

You blurrily pressed one of the topmost buttons in the elevator as you waited for the doors to slide shut followed by the subtle vibrations of the machine’s mechanisms as it pulled the cab up.

You let out a yawn as you took this still moment to think back on the night. Your friend, Tim, finally got the big promotion that he was gunning for years. It was a proper step up in his career that came with the need to move to the city with a nice pay bump to boost. To properly ring it, in the way that bachelors do best, you and your buds spent the night drinking in that city. The celebration started early Friday evening and carried on late into the night as you all went from one bar to the next ringing in his accomplishments with each round of drinks. There were plenty of drinks to be had and while you did indulge you were now sober enough to drink yourself home, but not without feeling that post-buzzed fatigue.

During the ride in the elevator, you absentmindedly retrieved your phone from your pocket. You turned it over in your hand and tapped the on button. You were welcomed to the light of your phone’s wallpaper with the phrase ‘no signal’ crawling across the notification bar. Irritated, you let out a groan as you rolled your eyes and put it away. 

Because you lived outside of the city limits you had to drive to one of the parking garages on the outskirts of the city and take the subway in to meet everyone. Out of all of the options you went with the tried and true garage that you always used for city day trips for, pretty much your entire life. The parking structure was the product at the height of the brutalism era. It is a large blocky gray building made of only the finest concrete. As a result, the building stopped all phone and radio signals. Because Tim’s celebration happened on Friday night, you ended up competing with everyone else who wanted to spend a night cutting loose in the city, you were shunted to the top half of the massive building to find a parking spot.

You let out another unapologetic yawn that reminded you of how tired you were with your normal full day of work and this late-night partying.

The elevator beeped as the doors slid apart to reveal the fluorescent lit gray parking lot. You were welcomed to the still silence of a nearly empty parking lot in the dead of night. It was just you by yourself and the few other cars that littered the rows of painted lines. 

You stepped out of the lift and quickly reoriented yourself in the cement building. A quick scan of the area resulted in you finding your car off to the side, exactly where you parked it. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized that there was only one last leg of the journey that you needed to do before you could collapse upon your long awaited bed.

You pressed the unlock button on your key and your car’s headlights came on, sounding off that welcoming ‘one-two’ of beeps. Your hand reached for the door handle and pulled it open, where you then engaged a controlled crash into the driver’s seat. Your hands, legs, and torso performed their typical routine of buckling yourself in and getting situated in the car. 

Your wrist twisted the key in the ignition as the car came to life. Along with the car’s roar of the engine and the chorus of beeps that arose from the dashboard computer, the sound of soft static flowed out of the speakers.

Momentarily confused about the last sound, you directed your eyes to the stereo, where the display informed you of the FM radio frequency that it was tuned to. It was trying to pick up the station that you must have been listening to when you drove down. You were about to reach over and turn it off but you stopped yourself just before that.

‘The music would help me on my drive home… and if I turn it off now, I’ll just have to reach over and turn it on when I leave the garage. Better to just leave it on and head out.’

With that, you then redirected your hand toward the headlight switch, then the gear stick. You eased on the gas and made your way out of your parking spot. You left out a yawn as you turned the steering wheel, to navigate… you just wanted to get home and with that, you began to slowly navigate through the rows and down the cement ramp towards the illuminated Exit sign.

Your tiredness compelled your body to go on autopilot as you took the wide turns around the parking lot garage floor while following the ‘EXIT’ signs, looping around to the circumference of the rectangular floor to get to the next descending ramp.

You just kept performing those same wide clockwise turns, then straightening out to drive the length of the floor before turning again, straightening out once more before turning onto the descending ramp, and repeating the process over again, and again and again and again…. And again. 

Each level of the garage showcases a series of different parked cars as your car’s headlights pass over them.

‘How many floors was I up?’ was the question that almost took root in your mind just before an aggressive yawn chased it away.

Your attention went back to your driving as you turned, straightened out, turned again, straightened out, and descended the ramp once more as you remained deadset in your tiredness to get home.

With each floor you were greeted by the same mundane selection of parked cars, all different makes and models in the various painted lines. As you drove past them, some part of your mind faintly caught on that there was something odd about them.

It went; car, car, car, empty space, car, empty space, empty space, car… and so on.

There was something particular about it but that part of your mind could not identify what that was so you decided not to give it any more thought. You shook yourself to alertness as you displaced any other thought outside of getting back home as you continued the same driving motions again and again as you descended down more and more, all while the soft radio static buzzed in your ears.

One thing that did change between the levels was that the lot was now becoming more occupied.

‘Good, this means I'm getting to the ground floor’ you reassured yourself, forcing yourself to keep going. 

A while after that, your car beeped, indicating that it was low on fuel. 

‘Ugh, another thing to do about once I get out of here.’

As the headlights passed over the other cars, your brain picked up on some strange details. The rows had car models that looked unfamiliar, there were some license plate designs that you could not place. 

Every once in a while, even some cars that looked more common had details that seemed out of place, like fins attached to an SUV, and once you could have sworn that a reversed parked vehicle had its brake lights on the front.

As you passed them all, that part of your brain stirred again, attempting to ponder something intangible about the lot’s occupants.

Now it was car, car, car, car, empty space, car, car, car, car, car, car, car, empty space, car, car, car…

Eventually, you had to concede that your exhaustion was winning the battle and you were quickly approaching the point where it was unsafe for you to continue driving. Even though you did not want to, you began searching for and then pulled into one of the empty spaces.

You placed your car into park, removed the key from the ignition, and began to push your seat back as far it could go to find the least uncomfortable position your body could be in to get some sleep. Soon enough you found a position that you could work with, you began to close your eyes, and took a deep breath as the sound of soft static drifted you off to sleep.

…

You woke up as refreshed as you could be after sleeping the night in your car. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you thanked for the small blessing that you did not have anything pressing for the rest of the weekend. 

With a grumble to yourself, you stretched your body awake and returned your seat into the driving position as you put the key back into the ignition, revved up the car, and backed it out of the spot as you resumed your drive, following the exit sign down and around to the next floor down. 

As you continued, your headlights now showed that the vehicles in the parking spots around you were now twisted and distorted chunks of painted metal and glass. Every other sign had lettering that was nothing more than incomprehensible squiggles. Still, despite it all the four-letter ‘EXIT’ sign remained as clear as ever, guiding you around the down. Around and down.

Eventually, your car sputtered to a slow dying stop as it reached the last of the gas.

You let out an irritated groan as you unbuckled and opened the door. You slammed the door shut with your frustration, you then redirected yourself towards the big ‘EXIT’ sign and began to groggily walk the rest of the way.

‘There has to be a bottom,’ you reassured yourself as you followed the path, as the sound of radio static permeated the air around you.

*** If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon! For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author's Notes on this post and others. At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story. The link: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC Thank you for reading and for your support

[thegaynessarchives]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49773343

hey guys heres my bad attempt at fluff written in my notes app at 8am today enjoy

[allou-a]

Hello my friends and myself have been So So So Normal about Eddsworld and The Magnus Archives recently so, uh-

My Fear, My Statement; Myself

Summary:

DECLARATION OF CONTENTS: Transcripts of statements collected from The Carmine Institute, London. Audio recorded by Edward Gold, Head Archivist of The Carmine Institute.

Notes:

NOTICE FROM ARCHIVAL ASSISTANTS: THE DATING SYSTEM FOR STATEMENTS IS AS FOLLOWED: YYYMMDD. IF TWO STATEMENTS OCCUR WITHIN THE SAME DAY, THEY MUST BE ALPHABETISED. FOR EXAMPLE, THE FIRST STATEMENT WOULD BE YYYMMDD-A, AND THE SECOND WOULD BE YYYMMDD-B. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

(An Eddsworld TMA AU, in which Edd is the Archivist, Matt his Assistant, and Tord a victim of The Stranger. 2 Chapters currently, with a further four in drafting stages.)

[magnusarchivesrelisten]

first fanfic update!

ok so I did that poll and the results told me to put the updates here so that's what I'm doing (i bet you never could have figured that out if I hadn't told you)

First update is just that I have the idea for each statement I'm doing for Season 1 and just need to write them (there are 29 so it's going to be a while)

I also realized that I've been titling them wrong. In the original series all the statements are labeled by date, specifically year/day/month. I've been labeling them month/day/year. It's not too much work to change it, but it is kind of funny that I didn't realize.

Ig that's it. Idk when this is coming out at all so don't get excited. I have a habit of starting projects and never finishing them unfortunately.

Moral of the story: don't label things wrong ig 💀💀💀

That's all, have a delightful day everyone!

[cult-of-the-eye]

I love how intricate asexuality can be. No sex at all? Sure! Just want to watch? Brilliant! Only comfortable with topping? You go girl! Only rarely feel aroused and when you do it's very touch and go? Wonderful! Kinky but not in a sex way? Coolio! Queerness is full of nuance and people are complicated and things never live in a vacuum!!

[crispyliza]

I've got you all figured out fanartists

[ishipgenfics]

Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.

Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."

He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.

He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.

He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.

The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.

He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.

You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."

You just walk by.

You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.

Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.

[witchinatree]

i'd like to add on to my surprisingly popular magnus protocol theory, i don't think you all understand how devestating this truly is for jon and martin

jonathan "refuse to become another goddamn mystery" sims is now the mysterious text to speech glitch on an old ass computer

martin "not lonely anymore" blackwood is now (possibly) completely alone for an unknown amount of time, unaware that his boyfriend is right there with him

we all wanted the "jonathan blackwood, actually" moment and instead we don't even know if they know they're together

[rauchendesgnu]

it's finally done!! this comic took me about 26h 20min (and an overall time of over 2 months) and is based on the fic with the same name, written by @advena-perditus (you can find it here. check it out, it's very good)

a note: I'm still working on improving the designs of Tim and Sasha (I accidentally made Not!Sasha more similar to how I imagine Sasha, so I'll have to work on that, but I wasn't going to change the entire drawing for it), but I'm overall quite happy with how it turned out :)

[muffinlance]

EMERGENCY FANFIC PROTOCOLS: ACTIVATED

Hey while AO3 is down

Here is a GDrive link to all my downloaded fics (it's OVER 9,000 2,000)

Mostly Avatar, also The Magnus Archives, Danny Phantom, Teen Wolf, and a few others

Mostly unsorted, some not even intentionally downloaded because the auto-downloader I use is Like That, so consider this a glorified "give me a random fic" button

MAKE SURE TO KUDOS THE AUTHORS WHEN AO3 IS BACK UP

>>> Linkie link <<<

Edit: Note that when AO3 comes back up that link will go dead again... until it's needed, once more

EMERGENCY FANFIC PROTOCOLS: DEACTIVATED

...Until next they are needed

If you were going through these for fic recs, check out my AO3 Bookmarks for the more curated list.

To make your own fanfic backups, I recommend AO3 Downloader or FanFicFare. (I'm not tech support for either; please don't message me for help.)

Happy reading!

[dcartcorner]

Commission for @chrisis-averted for the fic, "Rewind. Reset. Rewrite." Thank you for the support!

[hoperays-song]

The bond between found family. The bond. They’ve all been hurt before. Rejected, cast away, and abandoned. All that hurt. And yet they chose to love each other. 

They understand the pain of not having anyone and are going out of their way to make sure others don’t have to suffer by supporting each other. They bond over knowing the others chose them and they are special and loved because of it.

[saym0-0]

i love fanfiction because sometimes you'll stumble across gems such as: santa claus is an avatar of the eye

[zhuzhee]

vast boys!!

[gammija]

idly thinking about an AU where Jon and Martin do manage to land in the same world, in roughly the same location, but separated by time.

Lots of time.

Jon arrives in Britain, in 1988. Martin also arrives in Britain, also in the 80's - the 1780s. Maybe it's the Web putting the pieces in new starting positions, maybe it's just happenstance. Who can say.

The first thing Martin does is look for Jon, of course. Unfortunately, he realizes pretty quickly that, if Jon is here, he's not anywhere near him. But Martin's not giving up that easily. If he's going to find him, he needs resources. So, with a knack for lying to wealthy old men, and using a minimal amount of historical knowledge, he makes a modest name for himself. Hopefully enough so that Jon will be able to find him, when he looks for him -

Because Martin hasn't been able to find a trace of him yet. Not as a real person in the world, and not as a reference in any old texts or stories about odd appearances of men with alien clothes, lots of scars, or piercing eyes.

A few years pass, without Martin finding any sign of Jon. Slowly, he has to come to terms with a few facts:

Firstly, that the Fears are definitely also in this world. In his search for Jon, he's come across far too many accounts that sound eerily familiar. Though they seem to have popped up in the world around the same time he did; He doesn't have any earlier records that consistently line up with the patterns he's familiar with. Which most likely means that they - he - are responsible for their existence in this world... Martin tries not to think about it.

Secondly, thankfully, this must mean that Jon didn't arrive centuries before he did, living and dying without anyone taking notice, which Martin had gotten more and more worried about. He wouldn't have arrived without the Fears being there too. No, if Jon is going to appear in this world, (and Martin is not going to think about the alternatives), he'll arrive in his future.

Maybe so far into the future that Martin won't even live to see him. In which case, however much he'd like to avoid thinking about it, Martin has to create something here and now. Something that will last beyond his lifetime. Something Jon will be able to find as soon as he looks for Martin, so at least Jon won't have to wonder what happened to him, will know that he did not arrive completely alone, that Martin did not abandon him.

Thirdly... through his search for Jon, Martin has amassed quite a little collection of esoteric and weird stories. And, though he did it 200 years in the future, he does have some experience running an organization that ostensibly researches the supernatural, which would also be a good way to keep track of any potential new Jon leads. He thinks of naming it after Jon, of course, but it's not like Jon is going to look for his own name first, is he? And it'd raise more questions than if he named it after himself.

Cue the bittersweet ending where Jon falls out of the sky on a sunny day in the middle of London, asks for someone named Martin Blackwood, and finds Blackwood Organization, a public collection of ghost stories dating back to the 1800. He is given a set of personal letters from the founder, to be hand delivered only to a man called Jonathan Sims as soon as he would walk in the door.

...Or -

After yet another few years, in which Martin has set up his organization and is part of a decent network of people with similar interests (though he dislikes most of them), he bumps into someone. Jonah Magnus. It's an incredibly odd experience, though in hindsight, it was bound to happen, considering the information he's after. Martin has the urge to kill him right there, but the man doesn't seem to be from the future. He's just a creepy guy. Younger than Martin, too, which is also weird. But he manages to shake it off, and doesn't see him again.

Though he does keep tabs on him. Seeing him has set Martin thinking. He's been getting older, and his modern constitution isn't faring great in Georgian times. The organization is doing okay, but he's not sure yet if it's really going to survive after he's, well, gone, which would defeat the whole point. With a few more years, could he make it stronger? Could he maybe even reunite with Jon in person?

Furthermore, with the Fears being now well established, it's only a matter of time before someone tries a ritual. No, Martin isn't going to try and do one first, that'd be really stupid, not to mention evil. He just has to make sure that the world actually survives for Jon to appear in it.

A plan begins to form. One he really doesn't like. But one that, the more he considers it, is very possible. He's quite sure now the Fears mostly operate on vibes. Sure, he's maybe not a full avatar, but through letting the public read stories about the fears, hasn't he kind of spread awful knowledge? Hasn't he seen a lot of terrible things in turn? The Eye was already fond of him, according to Jon.

And even if it were to go wrong... Martin would die in either case, and the only other person suffering would be Jonah. He can't find it in himself to feel too awful about that.

Jon falls out of the sky on a sunny day in 1986. After a short and panicked search, he walks through the doors of the Blackwood Organization, Hilltop Lane 148, Oxford. The receptionist greets him. She seems somewhat shocked as she does so, tells him to take a seat as she makes a call. He doesn't know what else to do, so he sits. The chairs are surprisingly comfortable.

A few minutes later, someone he doesn't at all recognize enters the foyer. He looks at Jon, stops, freezes. Jon stills as well.

The man is unfamiliar in every way. He's short, for one, his skin a darker complexion, hair curling in a way his never did. But those eyes, as soon as he sees them, he recognizes. Those are the eyes of the man he trusted to kill him.