#MAG101

[viperos-art]

Their skin is cold and plastic and mine feels so very wrong

[regainingparadise]

A thing I love about Gertrude Robinson:

Though she is technically an Avatar of the Eye (per her job contract and her supernatural abilities), she is fundamentally a "pandeific" being.

We get reminded over and over and over how aligned she is with other entities.

The Web:

Annabelle Cane in MAG147, "The Weaver"

Gertrude Robinson, described by Michael in MAG101, "Another Twist"

Gertrude Robinson, talking to Arthur Nolan in MAG145, "Infectious Doubts"

Let's continue with those two episodes--she's Desolation and Spiral as well as Web

MAG145:

(not to mention that she survived binding herself to Agnes, and during that ritual her "lungs try to burn [her] alive from the inside out," and that she just overall has quite an affinity for fire and explosions)

MAG101

Eric Delano confirms her willingness to lie as well in MAG154

The Dark

The common symbol of The Dark (or at least Maxwell Raynor's cult) is a closed eye; in hiding from Elias, she too takes on that aspect of the Dark

MAG054, "Still Life"

The Lonely

This one, Jon says outright in MAG167, "Curiosity"

The Corruption

And I think that leads to her affinity with the more "metaphysical" aspects of the Corruption. This one doesn't have as obvious evidence, but understanding that the Corruption covers toxic relationships (MAG160.02), relationships where one being is used up by another, then what else characterizes even her most positive and genuine relationship?

(MAG111 "Family Business" and MAG137 "Nemesis")

That covers 7 out of the 14. I gotta think more about the last 7, but she definitely became enmeshed in so many parts of the Fears

[belleisnowhere]

"Oh… oh…. oh, Archivist. What have you done now? It’s almost sad to see you like this... almost."

MAG101: Another Twist

[purgatory606]

I can't explain why but I love Michael so much

[fractal-voidling]

MAG101 - #UNKNOWN │ Another Twist

Orsinov is way too much fun

[MUFFLED FEELINGS], lmao

Michael is back, fxck yeah!

Jonathan is just so done

"throat of delusion incarnate", amazing

oooh, a statement from Michael, I am vibrating!

I've never been so ecstatic to be this confused

[rinja-espurr]

do you ever just. listen to a tma episode and then some lines being said here are describing you better than you ever could yourself

[ceaseless-bitcher]

btw these are

MAG16, “Arachnophobia” #0150409

MAG2, “Do Not Open” #9982211

MAG42, “Grifter’s Bone” #0131103

MAG22, “Colony” #0161203

MAG56, “Children of the Night” #0100710-B, which is a continuation of MAG10, “Vampire Killer” #0100710

MAG49, “The Butcher’s Window” #0081103

Michael Shelley in general, but MAG26, “A Distortion” #0160204; MAG47, “The New Door” #0161002; and MAG101, “Another Twist” #UNKNOWN (estimated to have occurred May-June of 2017)

MAG96, “Return to Sender” #9961505

MAG34, “Anatomy Class” #0161207

MAG81 (my beloved :]), “A Guest for Mr. Spider” #0171802-A

MAG87, “The Uncanny Valley” #0141010

funniest statements from the magnus archives in no particular order: 

spiders, but they hate you personally

that one guy who was paid to keep a clearly fucked up coffin in his living room and just decided to fucking ignore the weird shit. (king)

band that is so bad at music that you die

a pile of worms stole my phone and texted my coworkers

man who admits he killed another man because he had a spooky vampire name

guy who felt the need to just dunk on this one guy for 10 minutes because he was a shitty drug mule. he also got his bones stolen. this is only mentioned at the very end.

twink with knife hands (cool)

Two random men walked in and stole my shipping company

fucked up monsters taking an anatomy class but are very polite and on time so its cool and sort of endearing. 

jon talking about how he has childhood trauma about an evil spider monster. only funny because i’m binge listening to this podcast and last week listened to him make fun of how stupid the idea of an evil spider monster is

bone stealing man shows up again and opens a gym to help people get fucking shredded. 

the plumber who shows up to the middle of a creepy monster circus in the middle of the night, looks at the pipes overflowing with blood, goes “there’s your problem” and just fucking pulls out a mass of flesh and then…leaves.

they literally just let him leave 

monsters have to invite him back to try and kill him again because he was so unfazed the first time

[fog-and-isolation]

"Archivist AU" (I): August 2015

Word count: 2,120

Also read on AO3

Summary: Following an ill-fated excursion to Russia, Michael Shelley was pulled from the Spiral by the one person who would have grieved him. Five years later, now the head archivist, Michael can't stop thinking about his future with one Salome Lukas.

*There will be more Archivist!Michael chapters; this one was largely to slow how he changed in and following the Spiral, and how helpful he could have been to Salome in "canon."

Content warnings: MAG099 spoilers, MAG101 spoilers, alternate reality

“Michael, what are you doing under the desk?”

The new head archivist, twitchy as ever, jumped at the sound of his boss's voice from the doorway and banged his head on the underside of his desk. Michael emerged, a small box in one hand as the other rubbed the top of his head, his old beaded bracelet on his left wrist.

“Ow, yes, uh, hi, Mr. Bouchard,” he greeted in a feeble attempt at his usual conversational tone. Elias Bouchard regarded him silently, hands clasped behind his straight-as-a-rod back and gray eyes fixed unsettlingly on Michael's brown ones. The archivist held up the small velvet cube by way of explanation. “I, uh, I dropped something.” He slipped the box into his jacket pocket and gave Elias what he hoped was a casual smile while trying very hard to forget the reason he had dropped the box, but it wasn't easy with that damn door still lurking in his peripheral, only vanishing when he glanced over at where it stood, mocking him. “Can– Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just wanted to come by and see how you were adjusting to your new role,” Elias said, as austere and to-the-point as ever. “I also wanted to discuss your relationship with Miss Lukas.”

Elias closed the door to Michael's office and strode across the room to stand before his desk. The velvet box in Michael's pocket seemed to grow heavier as his boss continued, “I overlooked it while you worked under Gertrude”—Anger rushed through Michael at the sound of his predecessor’s name—“but now that you are head archivist, I am afraid I can no longer look the other way. The Lukases are one of our most important patrons; your relationship with this woman presents a potential, severe conflict of interests.”

Michael shrank under Elias’s disapproving gaze. “M-Mister Bouchard, it's– I can't just… break up with her.” The last four words came out in a vague whisper, as if the very idea were inconceivable. “It's not that simple.”

One of Bouchard’s eyebrows rose. “No?” he said flatly.

“We n– We need each other.” Michael's fingers tightened around the box hidden in his pocket. “I th– We're bound to each other, I think. If it wasn't for her, I'd still be—” His throat locked up and his entire body shuddered at the memory of that place. He shook his head, took a few deep breaths and forced himself to look Elias in the eye. “I won't leave her. I can't.”

Michael began to fidget with the box, drawing it back out of his pocket. “I'd sooner quit.”

Elias let out a sigh. “Don't be so dramatic, Michael.”

“You don't understand.” Michael opened the box in his hand, his movements careful and almost reverent. His thoughts wandered as he gazed down at the simple silver ring nestled safely in the center of the plush silk lining the inside of the box. Salome had once told him that she preferred silver to gold. Something about it feeling less gaudy. Michael’s jaw clenched tightly and his hands trembled as he mumbled, “She pulled me out. She opened the door for me. I-I never would have asked her to do that…”

Elias sighed. “Michael–”

The archivist opened his mouth to insist, again, that he was not going to leave Salome Lukas when the door to the archives creaked open, and a soft voice that seemed to chase away the horrors lurking in Michael’s mind floated through the doorway. “Michael, is now a good—” The pretty, dark-haired young woman froze when she saw Elias standing in front of Michael’s desk. Her face fell. “Ah. Mr. Bouchard.” She looked from Elias to her boyfriend in confusion. “What’s… going on?”

Elias turned from Michael to Salome as the archivist himself tucked the small box away again and hobbled out from behind his desk, grabbing his cane from its place standing beside the heavy oak. The four points of his mobility aid thudded softly against the wooden floor with each step he took towards Salome. He reached her and rested his free hand on her arm as he laid his weight on the cane, her presence lighting up his frustrated, tired gaze with affection and warmth. “S-Sal, hi. Nothing’s, um— I’m glad you’re here. I was, you know, just going on my lunch break. Do you want to come with me? We, we can go to our usual place, if you want.”

Michael gently herded Salome out of the room before she could think of a response, keeping his body—taller and thinner than it had been before his ill-fated work trip to Russia some years before—firmly between her and his boss.

“Mike, what's going on?” Salome questioned, lacing her fingers with Michael's, long since used to how much spindlier they had become, as they navigated the halls of the Magnus Institute, greeting Michael's coworkers on the way out. Salome visited Michael for lunch so often that even some of the non-archive workers knew her face.

Michael heaved a heavy sigh and lifted his and Salome's joined hands up to his lips. “Mr. Bouchard doesn't approve of us,” he murmured in frustration against the back of Salome's soft, cold hand.

Salome scoffed. “He can bite us,” she said dismissively. “Him and Captain Lukas both.”

The archivist looked down at his girlfriend with a frown, their linked hands falling back to their sides. He squeezed her hand. “Why do you call him that, sweetie?”

The dark-haired woman shrugged. “He's a captain,” she responded matter-of-factly.

“But he's not your captain, sweetheart; he's your uncle.” Michael couldn't deny that he was angry – not at Salome, but at Peter Lukas. With the benefit of hindsight, what he knew about his hopefully-soon-to-be fiancée's uncle reminded him far too greatly of Gertrude Robinson: secretive, manipulative, always with an agenda.

Salome fell silent, fog-gray gaze wandering to the large, staring portrait of Jonah Magnus that hung above the doors leading in and out of the institute. Her expression, slight as it was, was contemplative, as if she hadn't thought of her relationship to Peter Lukas that way before. In her mind, the large, quiet man was “Captain Lukas” first, and “Uncle Peter” second.

She let out a quiet huff and moved to walk closer to Michael, her hand squeezing his and her other hand resting on their wrists as they walked out the double doors and into the street. “He won't want me to call him that.”

“Then he can bite us.” Michael bent down and kissed the top of Salome's head. “Again.”

Salome laughed softly. “I love you,” she told him with a small smile.

“I love you more.”

Michael's back and joints often troubled him after his escape from the Spiral. His time in that awful maze of endless hallways and mirrors and paintings of the same had changed him physically; he was a bit stretched out: taller, lankier, with more awkward proportions. This left him with the need for his cane.

Salome didn't care, though. Laying in his arms in his bed that first night after she had pulled him from that nightmare, she knew that she would prefer to have him changed but alive than to not have him at all. Having him back was everything, and from that night on, neither one slept without the other.

Michael let out a heavy breath, like a content golden retriever, as his arms tightened around Salome. The sound of his sigh and the weight of his arms around her pulled her from her thoughts, as gentle with her as always. He kissed the top of her head. “What're you thinking about, hm?”

“I'm just—” Salome took a deep, reflexive breath, a sign that she was utterly at peace. “I'm just glad you're here.”

He pressed another kiss to her hair before guiding her head to rest under his chin. “I'm glad, too. But you know I never would have asked you to go in there for me… Not ever…”

Salome shook her head, cuddling closer to Michael as if hoping to burrow into his chest and rest beside his heart. “I couldn't leave you there,” she whispered.

That was all she said; Michael knew she didn't like talking about it. He didn't, either, so he just nodded and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Salome in his arms, the warmth and weight of her body cuddled on top of his.

He kissed her again, this time on the temple, as he shifted underneath her to relieve a bit of the strain on his back from remaining in one position for so long.

“Captain Lukas wants me to move back onto the Tundra.”

Salome's use of her uncle's formal title wasn't lost on Michael, but he didn't say anything about it; he couldn't expect her to break a habit formed and calcified over two decades in a single afternoon. Instead, his arms tightened around her at her proclamation. “Why?”

“To keep us apart,” Salome responded quietly. “If I'm at sea, then…”

“We can't see each other,” Michael completed for her, his heart weighing heavy in his chest. Arms tightening further around Salome, he turned onto his side, limbs tangling, bodies pressed together. “Sal… Oh, Sal…”

But she shook her head. “I told him no.”

Hearing the soft hesitancy in her words, Michael pulled away just enough to gaze down at Salome. She had a hard time standing up to Peter Lukas: having been raised in utter loneliness, the only thing she wanted for so long—the reason she never fled the Tundra when it made port—was Peter's approval. So to hear that she shot him down, to learn she told him no to his face, made Michael's chest swell with emotion. He lunged forward, arms holding her impossibly close as he nuzzled his cheek against her hair. His relief was almost enough to banish his anger at Salome's uncle. Almost. “I'm– I'm so proud of you, dove…” he whispered. “So proud.”

A soft sound came from Salome's throat as she eagerly returned Michael's warm embrace. The world narrowed down to just the two of them, the sounds of London just beyond the bedroom window little more than a hum as the couple quietly cuddled together, indulging in each other's warmth.

As the sun sank below the horizon, casting long shadows in the ever-darkening room, Salome mumbled, “I thought I was going to be sick when I told him I wouldn't come back…”

Michael kissed Salome's neck softly and gently petted her hair. “You did well, dove. You really did. What did he say?”

“Not much.” Salome frowned. “I don't think he was happy.”

“And you?” Michael snuggled Salome even closer, not allowing a single inch to come between them. “Are you happy? Right now?”

Salome's frown curled upward into that shy, gentle smile Michael loved so much, and he could hear it in her voice. “Very,” she murmured. “It's easy to be happy when I'm with you…”

“I'm happy, too. You make me happy.” Michael kissed the side of Salome's head, petting her hair in comfortable silence. He had been waiting for the perfect moment, and this, now—laying together in bed, cuddling, loving each other—was it. “Sal, dove,” he began, “Have, have you ever thought about marriage…?”

“Marriage…?” The word, soft and breathless, fell from Salome's lips. She pulled away, but only enough to stare at Michael. She could never bear to be apart from him for long. “Why do you ask…?”

Michael sat up, one arm around Salome's shoulders to guide her upright with him as he dug around in his jacket pocket. He drew the small velvet box and reluctantly removed his arm from his girlfriend to open the small box, revealing the simple silver ring nestled inside. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at the way her eyes widened and her hands covered her mouth when she saw the ring.

“Salome Lukas,” Michael whispered, “we've been together for almost six years. I've watched you grow and heal from a lifetime of loneliness and isolation. You saved me and stayed with me through the worst time of my life, and you accept me and my… quirks… without a second thought. You've seen my anger and held me through my nightmares, flashbacks, and panic attacks. Despite everything, you're patient and kind and everything I could ever ask for.” He gently kissed her forehead and took a slow, steadying breath. “Salome… my Sal…” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “Will you marry me?”

Only a single word came to Salome's mind, the warmth of love and affection coursing through her: “Yes.”

--

Taglist: @zeelzebub, @justanotherbattyhere @archivist-shelley (I hope you don't mind the tag!)

[thenothing17]

The last few moths were really busy and all my free brain power has been taken up by the Magnus Archives, so I don't have anything tgs related to post right now...

Micheal Shelly and Micheal the distortion are probably some of my favorite characters, even though I don't really like any of their episodes that much... idk why.

[michaelectras]

relistened to mag102 nesting instinct and even out of the tma context i think adam would like semi-jokingly call michael his ‘permanent little stomach bug’ or his ‘little earworm’ for like shits and giggles and kind-of less-so as a comment about the nature of their relationship but idk how michael would react. somewhere between wildly flattered and looking at adam (mentally) and raising an eyebrow and going ‘the only insect in this relationship is you’ which results in him sleeping on the sofa (in their head) for a week

[bonesbugsandballads]

Just finished MAG101 and

MICHEAL NOOOOOOOO

[aesrot]

Not in a ship way but in a horrifying wtf way of Michael distortion n Jon n . Yeah. Body horror. I love exploring bodies but in a scary horror way. Yeah

ive never thought of them this way..... augh....... he can twist and warp his own body in so many ways... play tricks w jons mind.... hmmm the visions

[veradragonjedi]

@many-legged

new sex position were you dont touch at all. in fact one of you dies

[astranauticus]

god i love nikola orsinov so so much

[yourfriendlyneighborhoodspiral]

Put together Michael from mag101 bc I needed to

Fun (v spiral coded) filter i found while working on finishing touches under the cut!

[yoevi24]

Friendship with MAG 65 ended, now MAG101 is my best friend