Random crack au do not judge me or take this seriously
Jon and Martin arrive somewhere else but so does Jonah Magnus. And exchange for not killing him AGAIN, Jonah becomes their. House pet. It was meant to be a demeaning and humiliating punishment but whoops all three of them are method as fuck and get way into it, way too quickly.
(and by house pet I don't mean it's sexual AT FIRST. He's an unpaid glorified house keeper
Then someone buys him cat ears and it snowballs from there.
Don't @me
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus
Characters: Martin Blackwood, Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus
Additional Tags: depictions of brutal pipe murder, Blood, Violence, but not in any great detail, preslash, but there are hints there, neither of them have quite realised it yet, Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
Elias finds his preferred method of disposing of problematic people, and uses it to keep Martin out of harms way.
Fic made for the @martineliaszine that unfortunately fell through
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Words: 2,1k
Pairing: Martin/Elias
Warnings: grief/mourning, mention of Martin's bad childhood, daddy kink
Summary:
"Maybe soon Martin would wake up and realise how terrifying and demoralising it was, that Elias was here when he really, really shouldn’t have been. Or maybe he’d start thinking as to why Elias was bothering to go along with the whole being in prison thing when he clearly had the means to leave whenever he wanted. But right now he was tired, and he didn’t want to think, and Elias had spent the last three days handling everything."
Written for the @martineliaszine. After Martin's mum is buried, Martin and Elias go home together.
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[taking prompts on twt and @soveryanon asked for MartinElias & "the sweetest honey / is loathsome in his own deliciousness / and in the taste confounds the appetite" uwu]
Martin is a poet. People might see him as a people-pleaser, a pushover with a quiet voice and a quieter demeanor, and they wouldn't be wrong, exactly, but there's so much more to him. He's a poet; words come together under his pencil, under his tongue, to translate his hopes and aspirations, his fears and desires. He's under no illusion that the result is any good, but it's his, it's him.
This is, certainly, the reason he's so mortified when he stumbles upon Elias waiting at his desk, reading a stray piece of paper he picked up among Martin's research. Martin recognizes it immediately: there's a dark creature scribbled on the back that he doodled while talking on the phone just this morning. But most importantly, there's a poem on the face that Elias is currently staring at with barely hidden interest.
Martin exhales like he's just been punched in the gut, and he barely avoids spilling on his sweater the cup of tea he's just brought back from the kitchenette. Elias glances at him, signaling he's heard him, then goes back to his reading. Oh god. What was that poem about, again? Something stupid about longing, for sure. Longing for a very specific person, too.
Martin is frozen in place, eyes wide and cheeks hot, his knuckles clasped white around his mug. The liquid inside trembles with his nervous shaking.
Then, after what seems like an eternity, Elias looks at him. Martin is still engrossed by his reflection in his cup, but he can feel Elias' attention on him as well as if he had put his hands on Martin's shoulders.
"I didn't know you wrote poetry," Elias says. His tone is neutral, impossible to decipher even to Martin's anxiety. Martin glances up tentatively; Elias looks - encouraging, if anything. He's still holding the poem.
Martin steels himself. "Ah- well." His mouth is very dry, and he wets his lips before trying again: "I try," he chuckles awkwardly.
"Hm," Elias hums before, to Martin's horror, distractedly tucking the paper in his breast pocket. "Not bad. Who is it about?"
"No one?" Martin squeaks. Elias' mouth twitches bemusedly, and Martin struggles to remember the exact wording of the poem. It had been inspired by Romeo and Juliet to an embarrassing degree, that was for sure. "Someone I like," he relents, because there's no point in lying about something so obvious.
"The sweetest honey / is loathsome in his own deliciousness / and in the taste confounds the appetite," Elias quotes, circling the desk, stepping closer. "Are you afraid, Martin?"
"What?"
"Those lines are what inspired you, aren't they? Romeo and Juliet. They're a warning against love becoming cloying. Is that what you're scared of?"
Martin thinks of his mother, how her love had soured into disgust. He shrugs. "Maybe."
Elias is in front of him now, close enough to touch. His eyes glint.
"You're young, Martin," he says matter-of-factly. Martin's fingers clench around his mug anew; is Elias about to tell him his lie has been discovered? But the Head of the Institute continues, oblivious to Martin's discomfort: "Love isn't the end-all be-all of life."
"I know!" Martin protests. "I know. It's just - I feel…" Unwanted, he wants to say. "Lonely," he chooses instead.
Elias' smile doesn't reach the rest of his face, but he seems genuine when he puts a hand on Martin's shoulder. "You aren't alone, Martin. You have us. Aren't we some sort of big family?"
Martin looks into Elias' eyes. As always, it is an unsettling experience; the coolness of his irises freeze Martin to the core, the depth of his pupils pulls him in, consumes him. If anything, he feels even lonelier.
"Yes, Elias," he finally answers, though the words taste sour in his mouth.
Elias pats his shoulder. "Good man."
Then he pulls away, and begins making his way to the exit. He's almost at the staircase when Martin shakes off his torpor.
"Oh! Did you need anything?"
Elias glances back. "Thank you, Martin. It's late, I just wanted to check on you."
"Okay…" Martin trails off. Elias is already gone, his heels clicking up the stairs. The echoes of them are long gone before Martin starts breathing again.
Then his eyes drift back to his desk. It looks untouched, but - the poem was nowhere near the top of the pile. How did Elias know where to look?
Martin glances uneasily at the stairs, and starts gathering his stuff, his tea forgotten. It is late, and the Institute is not a good place to be at this hour.
He doesn't want to be alone.
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Random crack au do not judge me or take this seriously
Jon and Martin arrive somewhere else but so does Jonah Magnus. And exchange for not killing him AGAIN, Jonah becomes their. House pet. It was meant to be a demeaning and humiliating punishment but whoops all three of them are method as fuck and get way into it, way too quickly.
(and by house pet I don't mean it's sexual AT FIRST. He's an unpaid glorified house keeper
Then someone buys him cat ears and it snowballs from there.
Don't @me
4 notes
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