#also HEY WHAT THE FUCK ELIAS HAS BEEN JONAH MAGNUS THE ENTIRE TIME?????

[divine-swag-summit]

PETER YOU BITCH

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

[dangerous-disposition]

On Tragedy vs. Bad Endings

[Image ID: user @frostyfrogz​ replied to your post “my mag171 #thots: I fully agree with. I love jonmartin I want nothing but the best for them. I know my answer today was an obvious twisting of dialogue but its just frustrating sometimes because it seems like people dont understand some sort of tragedy will indeed happen. I have never and will never suggest that something will happen to Jon and Martin’s relationship I’ve just been saying the shows not going to end well no matter what.]

So I have a lot of thoughts about this very subject, and too much for the replies on my post, so allow me to try to articulate what I mean, and what a lot of us mean when we say “it does not make sense for either Jon or Martin to turn evil in the end,” even in a show that has been advertised from day one as a tragedy.

First of all, no one thinks this is going to end happy. The few who do are usually unaware that this show is billed as a tragedy, and are quick to be corrected. I didn’t know it was a tragedy until I was on season 3 and someone told me. It’s overall just best to assume that the OP knows it’s not going to be a happy ending, because “reminding” people or “explaining” to people that the ending is going to be sad is a fast way from people to get annoyed and defensive.

Anyway! It appears, above all, that people have either fundamentally different ideas of what a tragedy is or accomplishes, or that people have a fundamentally flawed understanding of tragedy and it’s place as a narrative device/theme.

My thoughts are that tragedies hurt, and tragedies can be devastating, but they have to have a message and they should not be cruel to the audience.

A cruel ending would involve leading the audience to believe one thing for the entire book, show, movie, podcast, what have you, just to rip it away at the last minute like a big “fuck you” to the audience. Those sorts of endings are inherently mocking of the audience, and ultimately disrespectful. The only people in the audience that “benefit” from this sort of writing are the cynics who spent the entire show talking down to everyone for seeing the silver lining in the impending tragedy, even if, up until the finale, the silver lining was always part of the narrative. Like it took actual twisting and outright ignoring of the narrative as it’s written to be cynical and sceptical all the way until the end.

That is, plain and simple, bad writing. Jonny Sims is not a bad writer.

Now tragedies often have “happy endings,” they just also have an element of sadness colouring that ending. A good, tragic ending should, in my opinion, feel bittersweet. We should see it coming, we should know it will hurt, but it should be for the greater good and should further the narrative that has been told from the beginning.

I said a few weeks ago that a tragic ending without a silver lining is just torture porn, and I stand by it.

Now, if Jon or Martin are revealed to be Actually Evil in the end, where is the silver lining in that? What narrative has even possibly hinted at this outcome, without putting on cynic glasses?

Every single plot point and plot “twist” in TMA has been clearly detailed, never relegated to pure subtext that you would have to comb through a single interraction and analyzing the tone in which it was said (which could easily be actor shortcomings or error). They have always been obvious, at least in hindsight. This is why, for a while, I subscribed to the Web!Martin theory, but due to recent episodes I’m more inclined to believe those “obvious things” were red herrings.

Throughout The Magnus Archives, the common theme in every. Single. Season finale is that “we are stronger together.” What do I mean by that? Well, here’s the general idea:

Season 1: The one time someone gets separated by the group for any significant length of time, like I mean the main group, she gets killed by the NotThem and replaced.

Season 2: Jon is alone, due to his intense paranoia and his reluctance to reach out for help. This leads to a disastrous series of events that leaves him a suspect of murder, and his friends even more doubtful of his character.

Season 3: In the episode just before they deal with the Unknowing, Jon literally says that isolation was his downfall, and he was going to work on trusting his friends more. When they got separated during the Unknowing, things went to shit. When they found each other again, they were able to rally and they “succeeded.” Conversely, they are also teamed up with Melanie and Martin who hung back to bring down Elias. They were successful, working as teams on separate objectives, etc.

Season 4: This is, by far, their most “successful” feats while simultaneously their least. The whole season was again showing the downfalls of isolation. In the season finale, Jon has Basira and Daisy’s help, and while bolstering himself with their strength, and the strength in his conviction to save Martin to be with Martin, Jon was successful in stopping Peter Lukas and saving Martin. Conversely, Martin and Jon’s isolation in Scotland could be, theoretically, implicated in how Jonah Magnus was able to succeed in the end like that.

Now evidence of this same train of thought in season 5? Jon literally says it: Gertrude would not have done well in this post-apocalyptic world, because she had no friendships, no anchors, no reason to stay human. And then Jon says “you are my reason” to Martin.

It is in the text of the story that the only way to succeed, or win, or survive, is through trust, friendship, and love. One of the main factors in so many of the statements, on why the statement givers succumbed to the fear in their story, for even a moment, had to do with very little personal ties to anyone else. Many of the statements feature isolation and, as Jon put it, “lack of corroboration.” On the flipside, many of the statements that ended with the statement giver escaping successfully, and surviving long enough to be reached out to for follow-up questions, involved them having close personal ties to someone else that kept them safe, somehow. Like the girl from Italy; remembering her mom saved her from the Lonely. Or, more ridiculously, the guy and his dog that escaped the spiral because he was so distracted by his dog and had to be home for dinner. In MAG170, it was Martin’s love for Jon, and his trust in the love from Jon and his friends, that saved him from the Lonely again. Jon’s incredible amount of love, and respect, and trust in his friends is what’s kept him from becoming another Jared Hopworth or Jude Perry. In MAG155, Cost of Living, he expresses open disgust in how that particular avatar of The End justified her actions, killing and killing and killing again because she viewed herself as more worthy of life than that person. In that same episode, he talks of not blinding himself because he hopes to use his powers to protect his friends, that without them they’re too vulnerable. Honestly, this is the same reason Peter Lukas is unsuccessful, because Martin only helped him at all to protect his friends. The fact that he didn’t see his failure coming was hilarious.

Gerry said in Family Business that there is no “entities of love”, and that might be true, but love and trust is literally what saves you from fear. How many of us deal with things that are scary in our lives, if only because we have some level of trust in the people or things around us. How many of us have been brought out of a panic attack by someone we love and trust?

So all of this has been presented to us, over and over and over again, which is what I, and others, mean when we say “it does not make sense for one of them to be evil.” That’s what we mean when we say “it would be Bad Writing to make one of them evil in the end.” The entire show has driven home the message that we need love, we need personal connections to survive fear. To rip that away from the main characters at the last minute and call it “tragedy” would be a spit in the face of every single listener who took the story at face value, without picking it apart and reading lines out of context. And Jonny Sims and Alex J. Newall have both said they hate lazy writing.

Now, none of the JonMartin fans I follow are deluding themselves to think this show will have a happy ending outside of very self-indulgent fix-it au fanfics.

The way I see this going down is that Jon and Martin will figure out how to put the world back to the way it was, but Jon will not be able to be part of the new world with Martin. That’s the tragedy; that the world gets saved, and Jon helps save it, but he doesn’t get to benefit from his efforts in any way. The tragedy is Jon loves Martin so much, and they deserve their happy ending, but they don’t get it. But, they still saved the world so others can have their happy endings.

Idk about you, but between the “Jon turns evil in the end” and “Jon stays good and sacrifices himself to save the world” endings, only one of them has me in tears right now as I type this out, and it’s not the former.

I’m not against sad endings,I’m against bad endings that punish the audience for having even a bittersweet hope. I’m against sad endings that are just sad for the sake of being sad, with zero pay-off or reason to happen, especially when those endings throw out 5 years of hard work.

And hey, I might just be forced to eat my words in the end, but not before I fly all the way to England and make Jonny Sims eat a knuckle sandwich.

This was a lot longer than I meant for it to be, but I just have a lot of feelings.

[schrijverr]

What’s up with that Sims guy?

After the Apocalypse Jon becomes an uni teacher, three students take in interest in what’s up with this weird new professor.

On AO3.

Ships: JonMartin

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~

Time and space moves differently around the Fears, something that could be confusing and strange, but also pretty handy as Jon and Martin had discovered during the Apocalypse. It meant that when they’d turned the world back to normal, banishing the Fears far away, no one had even noticed it had happened.

With Elias, uhm Jonah, gone their ties to the Institute had lessened. However, Jon was still depended on statements, but Martin had decided that being away from it all would be better for him, so Jon was now working part time, while Martin kept an eye on the place.

Which is how Jon had ended up as a professor at a university. He was filling in, because the current professor had gotten pregnant and they hadn’t been able to find someone more suitable than Jon to replace her temporarily.

Jon knew he didn’t have the credentials necessary, but he Knew everything with the help of the Beholding, so he hoped that would be enough to get him through the year.

So here he was, standing in front of a big hall that was slowly filling up with students, who were eyeing him with a mix of curiosity, confusion and uneasiness.

Once everyone had settled down he took a deep breath and started: “Hello everyone, I’m Jonathan Sims and I’m replacing your previous professor until she returns from her maternity leave. I have an oversight of what you all need to know and do this semester, so lets get started with that right away.”

~

Jane looked down at their new professor and shifted in her seat uneasily. He was strange, or at least had a strange aura surrounding him. Jane wasn’t once for judging on appearances, but it was hard not to wonder what the Hell had let a man such at him to this.

He was short, sure, but he wasn’t small and he had a big presence to make up for it. His black hair was streaked with gray, but he had a youthful face that didn’t quite match up, although the tiredness that hung around him seemed old.

Beside that he was also littered with scars. It was hard not to notice the white circles that contrasted with his dark skin, it could be acne scars if they hadn’t been on his exposed forearms as well and so perfectly round. And those weren’t even his only scars, the entire palm on his right had was covered with a burn mark and the open buttons on the top of his shirt exposed a white thin scar across his throat.

So, yeah, strange.

He started to introduce himself and his voice was posh and low, but overall pleasant to listen to, she supposed. This didn’t stop her from exchanging a small look with Jesse, her best friend. Jesse raised her brows at her and the message was received, they were so going to talk about this later.

Later came as soon as they were out the door. Jesse leaned over and said: “Tell me I wasn’t the only one who got a weird vibe from that guy.”

Jane laughed and shook her head and answered: “You weren’t, I mean, this who building is filled with stuffy academics and suddenly this random dude walks in with the scars of a thug? That’s weird.”

Jesse nodded and asked: “What do you think happened to him?”

“I don’t know.” Jane shrugged, “But it seems pretty rude to just ask.”

Jesse sighed, then perked up with a realization: “We could plant a seed in Sams head.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Jane said, mischief bubbling up inside her eyes. They had known Sam since their first year and were pretty close with the guy. Sam was also known for not being the most delicate or observant and unafraid to ask personal questions. If he was curious, he would ask.

“I would.” Jesse grinned back, she tugged her along through the crowd with an: “Come on!”

They found Sam easy enough and Jesse plopped down next to him and started: “Hey, Sam. What did you think of our new professor?”

Sam shrugged and scratched his forehead as he said: “Dressed like every other pretentious asshole in here, posh accent. But seemed to know his stuff. Normal teacher if you ask me. Why?”

Jesse inflated: “Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t even noticed!”

“Noticed what?” Sam asked with a frown.

“The scars.” Jane said.

“Oh, were they scars.” Sam said, “I thought he had weird freckles.”

“Weird fr-” Jesse began before cutting herself off and asking: “Aren’t you curious why they’re there? I’ve never seen scars like that.”

“And the burnt hand and the scar on his neck.” Jane continued, “Those don’t appear randomly.”

Both looked at her now, heads to the side in confusion. Jane said: “Oh, didn’t see those?”

Jesse and Sam shook their heads. “Well,” Jane explained, “He has this burn on his hand like he gripped a hot burning coal or something and this line here,” she drew on her neck with her finger to signal where it was, “like someone tried to slit his throat. Makes me wonder what he did before this job.”

The three of them fell silent. Lost in thought to what could’ve happened to their new mysterious professor before all of this.

~

The next lesson didn’t clear anything up in the slightest. While they were discussing the 17th century literature circles Sam had raised his hand signaling he had a question. Jane and Jesse, who had decided to sit behind him tensed up. He got called on and asked: “Dr. Sims, what did you do before this?”

Dr. Sims frowned and pushed up his glasses, before saying: “You don’t have to call me doctor, it wouldn’t be deserved. Just Sims is fine, or Mr. Sims if that feels better. And I’m the A- an archivist.”

“Am?” Sam blurted out.

Sims laughed humorlessly and said: “Yeah, part time now.”

Then he went back to the lesson and didn’t acknowledge any more questions about his life. Jane didn’t know how he did it, but he seemed to just know which people had questions about the lesson and which about him.

She walked out the hall with Sam and Jesse, who said: “That wasn’t insightful at all.”

Jane agreed: “Yeah, in what danger would an archivist be that leaves that kind of scarring?”

Sam shrugged and pulled out his phone as he said: “I can Google it.” the he muttered more to himself: “What kind of danger experiences an archivist, cool yeah.”

Jesse strained her neck to look on his screen and asked: ‘Well, what does it say?”

“Nothing much actually. Just a bunch of online archives and stuff.” Sam said.

Jane had a bit of a light bulb moment and suggested: “What if you type in Jonathan Sims?”

“Jonathan?” Jesse asked.

Jane shrugged and said: “It’s how he introduced himself during the first lecture.”

Sam typed in the name and his eyebrows crept further up to his hairline as he read the results of his search. Jesse couldn’t take it anymore and ripped the phone out of his hand, quickly scanning the page and gasping. Jane was now also curious and asked: “Well, tell me.”

She showed her the screen and Jane read the headlines. ‘Explosion at the Wax Museum, two survivors.’ The small excerpt reads: Last night there was an explosion at the wax museum, cause is still unknown, but suspected attack. Two survivors were found on the scene. Basira Hussain and Jonathan Sims, the latter of which is in a coma…

Underneath that is another headline. ‘Attack at the Magnus Institute unearths body of former archivist Gertrude Robinson’ with a picture of a big fire brigade, some police and an ambulance under it, she can vaguely make out Sims getting loaded into the back of one of them.

And lastly a small report into the murder of Gertrude Robinson, listing Jonathan Sims as one of the suspects along with one about an older guy, who was apparently found dead in Sims office.

Jane leaned back and whispered: “What the actual fuck.”

After that the rumors spread over the campus and by the time the next lecture rolled around the whole room was buzzing with nervous energy. Sims took one look around the room and sighed: “You are probably not going to let this go in favor of learning something that will actually be useful. Correct?”

A murmur went through the crowd, they had realized that the rumors had most likely reached Sims, but they hadn’t realized he’d be so straightforward about it.

“Okay.” Sims said, “I am willing to sacrifice ten minutes of my lecture for inquiries, but I will not promise to answer.”

Then he waited. Sam was the first to raise his hand and when called upon he asked: “How did you get the scars?”

Sims thought about it, the class thought he was thinking about how to bring it delicately and thoughtful, but inside Jons mind he heard Martin laugh at him and tell him he was an idiot after Jon had told someone the round scars had come from tripping. In hindsight it hadn’t been a good excuse, so Jon decided that vague was probably the safest way to go and said: “A workplace incident.”

Without raising his hand this time Sam asked: “Did it happen during the attack on your workplace? Why would anyone even attack archives?”

“The Archives are a small place in a big organization.” Jon began to explain, ignoring the fact that the Archives had been the target, “And in the end it turned out to be an aggressive infestation, just an accident.”

“Why your institute then?” Sam asked.

“Depends on if you believe in the paranormal, but you have to excuse me, Mr. Jacobs. It seems you are not the only one with questions.” Sims replied, then he turned to the other side and said: “Yes, Ms. Hendrickson?”

“Did you murder anyone?” she asked, clapping her hand over her mouth afterwards in shame of the question that she had blurted out.

Sims didn’t react to the harsh and accusatory question, just said: “If I murdered anyone, I wouldn’t be here, but in prison, don’t you agree?” then he smiled, but somehow Jane didn’t feel comforted by it.

Jesse spoke up, causing Jane to duck into herself in the hope that she wouldn’t be noticed in her seat next to Jesse. She asked: “Then who murdered them?”

Sims huffed a breath, blowing a strand of hair out of his face in the process and answered: “That would’ve been my former boss, I have to say I’m happy to see him gone and his replacement is more than capable.” he looked at the clock and clapped his hands, making more than a few people flinch. Then he stated: “That’s enough questions, time’s up. Lets get back to the symbolism in poetry during the Renaissance.”

And so life continued with Sims as their professor. There was still something uneasy about him, like he was just a sliver off in a way you couldn’t pinpoint, but felt in your bones.

But he was actually quite nice. Which was weird in itself, since he could be pretty prickly and snappy if he found your reasoning or answer particularly stupid or ignorant and he was generally grumpy, but that changed completely if you actually had a problem and needed help. He would listen and then explain with the things you could understand, it was as if he could look at you and know what you needed to understand. That was also strange, but it was nice to have someone explain so correctly.

He was also a walking encyclopedia. He had fun fact about everything and when they said everything they meant everything. When he noticed Mary had died her hair he said: “I like your hair, did you know hair dye contains over 5.000 chemicals.”

Then when Jamie asked what kind of tea he was drinking he answered: “Lady Grey, it was created by Twinings in the early 1990s to appeal to the Nordic market, which found Earl Grey too strong.”

While discussing Oscar Wilde he commented: “Funny how important this guy is, since he has only published one novel in his life.”

When Kyra stumbled in late telling him the taxi had broken, he replied with: “Well cars have about 30.000 parts, so it isn’t far fetched that something broke.”

The funniest part about it was that it just happened to slip out it seemed. He was also just as surprised as them when something like that tumbled out of his mouth and he always covered it up with a small cough, before ignoring it had happened and moving on with his lesson.

It had become a bit of a game among students to make him say a fun fact. Sims had caught on to it, but he didn’t seem to mind all that much, his lips only tightening the littlest amount and his eyes tiring slightly.

So all in all, after two moths of lessons they felt like they knew the guy. He was nice in a grumpy way, could tear you apart verbally if he wanted to, had a lot of facts and worked part time as an archivist, which was apparently a pretty dangerous job.

Jane, Jesse and Sam had become pretty close to him, often staying after class to ask a few questions about the subject, help clean up, try to pry into his private life. The last thing never seemed to work, but it was fun to try and Sims had never let on that he minded it. He even seemed to enjoy their little chats.

Then one time after class, he suddenly looked up, frowned and stalked out of the hall. Quickly sharing glances the three followed after him, curious what had gotten his attention so suddenly.

They walked through a bunch of the main halls, then through a few quiet corridors until they were much further than hearing range, making them slightly uncomfortable. There was a kid, first year probably, barely an adult still very much baby faced, crying on the floor, knees drawn tight to his chest.

Cautiously Sims approached him and gently lowered himself to the ground. The kid looked up at him with a startled face, but Sims shushed him and gently asked: “What’s wrong?”

There was something off about the words, something compelling. The kid starts to speak, he had a slightly northern accent: “It’s all so different here with the big buildings and large crowds with loads of people everywhere, still I’m all by myself. No one want to talk to the dumbass from north, who has trouble with the tubes, you know.” he sniffled a sad chuckle, “And everything is just so overwhelming and I have no one to guide me or to talk to and I hate it. Then I saw everyone just talking about a party and I know it’s dumb, but I heard them say they were going to invite everyone and someone asked even me, but then they laughed and said of course not and I just couldn’t anymore, so I went here and I cried.”

It seemed he was finished and went back to small sniffles and silent tears. Sims gently put a hand on the kids knee and said: “Did that help?”

“Yeah,” the kid looked at him, “bit cathartic, honestly. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, Edward.” Sims said.

The kid didn’t seem to realize it, but the three silent watchers noticed the kid had never mentioned his name.

Sims went on: “If you like, you can come over to my lecture hall. There are a few older years there, nice people, who I’m sure will want to help you. And a cup of tea.”

Edward rubbed his eyes and said: “They wouldn’t want to talk to me, I’m a loser and I don’t want the to think I’m even more one by telling them what happened.”

“I’m sure you won’t have. They’ve been where you are.” Sims responded, there was a bit of an edge to his voice and they realized he knew they were there and he was right. Jesse had been too brash, Jane too shy and Sam too blunt, it’s what had made them flock together. It was much better now, but they all remembered those awful first weeks. Without saying a word they hurried back to Sims hall.

When he came back they were making tea and lounging around. Jesse greeted him: “Hey, Sims. Where were you suddenly off to?”

Jane pushed her slightly and said: “Don’t pry.” then she turned back, “Want a cuppa, we just put on the kettle?”

Sims smiled and said: “I’d like that, could you make one for my friend, Edward here, as well. I had forgotten I was going to meet him, he’s curious about the Minor course and I thought maybe you could tell him a bit about it. If it isn’t any trouble, of course.”

“Of course not.” Jane smiled, then gestured to a chair: “Here, come sit with us.”

Edward did and later left feeling much better with a few new friends.

Friends, who were beginning to be suspicious about their teacher. They had a lengthy discussion about his knowing stuff and his spooky vibe. But no certain conclusion could be made and they decided that the mission for this year was finding out at least one personal fact about their teacher to prove he was at least somewhat normal.

They didn’t have to wait long. Their classes had been thrown around due to an unfortunate miscommunication. So two classes were switched, causing Sims to teach on Wednesday instead of Thursday for just one week. He looked a bit pale that day, but nothing out of the ordinary. It was the season, so no one spared it a second thought. Until a larger man came through the door after a gentle knock.

He was tall, about 6ft2, and chubby with a crème sweater and jeans. His face was freckled and he wore a gentle smile like it was second nature. His hair was curly and looked very soft, he in his entirety looked soft, you know, like the kind of person you know gives good hugs the moment you see them.

Sims was the only one who didn’t seem startled by his knock, just looked at the man and frowned as he said: “Martin, what are you doing here?”

“Sorry, sorry, Jon.” the man, Martin, said apologetically, “I know you said not to come and such, but I saw you had forgotten your statement and I know how you can get without them, so I thought I’d bring them to you.”

“I was going to read it tomorrow.” Sims said, “It can wait for one day. It’s not like it used to be.”

“Yeah, I know that as well, but we agreed that a rhythm would be good for you and your body to get used to.” Martin replied, holding out a folder.

Sims grabbed the folder and sighed: “You’re probably right, annoying as that may be, but couldn’t it wait till after I was done?”

“No, I’m meeting Daisy to discuss the proper storage of a Hunt artifact and you know how Daisy can be.” he answered.

“Yeah, I know.” Sims chuckled, absentmindedly touching the scar on his neck.

“Besides, I wanted to see you.” Martin said, then he brushed a lock of hair, that had freed itself from Sims’ messy bun, behind Sims ear and pecked him on the cheek. Turning to leave immediately after calling out over his shoulder: “Read it, Jon! And don’t forget to pick up milk on the way back if you want any good tea.”

Martin opened the door and Sims smiled, like a real and soft and dopey smile, as he touched his cheek and yelled back: “I will, say hi to Daisy from me.”

Then Martin was gone and the silence that had fallen over the hall with Martins entrance was broken. Multiple people called out questions and it was a bit of a chaos. It took a few minutes to get everyone settled down again and Sims returned to his lecture as if nothing happened. Sam called out from the second row: “Really, Sims? Nothing?”

Sims shoulders sagged, he had clearly hoped he could get away with it and was sad that it hadn’t worked. He said: “Mr. Jacobs, although I appreciate your interest in my personal life, I hope that I don’t have to explain how normal it is for my husband to come bring me something I forgot at home.”

The hall exploded again, but Sims ignored it all again telling them there were more important things to talk about, for example the lecture, which will be on the exam.

For Jane, Jesse and Sam it was enough. Their teacher was weird and off, but he was nice enough and if someone as soft looking as the Martin figure was willing to marry him, then he was good enough in their opinion and not worth the detective work.

[haberdashing]

A Rude Awakening

TMA fic. Elias Bouchard has one hell of a time when he wakes up.

Inspired by this art.

on AO3

The first thing Elias registered when he woke up was pain. He had a few aches and pains all across his body, but the majority of it was centered on his head, his face feeling like it was burning. He’d thought he’d felt agony before, when he’d gotten some especially nasty hangovers in uni, but this? This was on a whole new level.

The second thing Elias registered was that he couldn’t see a thing. He couldn’t even tell if it was light out or not. The world was just a sea of blankness, almost like his eyes were closed tight, but when he tried to open them nothing happened except even more pain punishing him for the attempt.

The rest of the situation came to him more gradually. The cold, hard ground that he was splayed out upon, which felt almost unnaturally smooth. The wet, sticky feeling coating his face that had to be blood. The murmurs in the background that he couldn’t quite make out, belonging to voices that he was pretty sure he didn’t recognize.

Elias groaned and tried to push himself off the ground with one hand, which quickly proved to be a mistake. Moving his head even slightly upwards sent a shock of white-hot pain coursing through him, and he sunk back again, getting another jolt of pain for his trouble when his head made contact with the floor once more.

The only upside to his attempt at movement was that the murmurs in the background grew louder, enough that he could hear some of what was being said, though it didn’t help that several of the voices kept talking over one another.

“Is that-”

“Shh, don’t-”

“-think he’s awake.”

Elias took the opportunity to voice the main question that was going through his mind.

“What the hell is going on?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” It was a woman’s voice, awfully calm given the situation at hand. (She had to know, right? Between the pain and the blood, she had to know that this was something of a rude awakening for him.) A bit blunt, too, given that she was talking to someone who’d clearly been badly injured. Not even a hint of sympathy for his predicament in that voice.

Elias let out a shaky laugh, which made his sides ache slightly. “I asked first.”

“Yeah, well, tough. You’re still going first.”

“I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on, that’s why I asked you-”

“Jon?”

The next voice--”Jon”, presumably, whoever that was--was a man’s voice, also calm and level in its own way.

“Who are you?”

Something about the question dug into Elias somehow, made a tingle run through his body, convinced him that he had to answer, and answer immediately (not that he was terribly keen to avoid giving information to those who might actually know what the hell all this was about)...

“My name’s Elias.”

Jon didn’t say anything, and neither did any of the other voices, but Elias could just feel that somehow that wasn’t enough, that they needed more from him.

“Elias Bouchard. I- I work at the Magnus Institute. I’m James Wright’s secretary.”

“James Wright?” Another woman’s voice, one with a bit more energy to it.

That strange need Elias had felt to answer was gone, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to explain further. “He’s the big boss there. Uh, the head. That’s his official title, anyway, Head of the Magnus Institute.”

Somebody let out a sharp laugh, though Elias didn’t have a clue why.

“He’s not lying, at least.” Jon said. “He can’t be, not to me.”

“So what does that mean?” Another man’s voice, a bit higher-pitched, a bit unsure of itself.

“You don’t think...” The first woman again, still sounding thoroughly unimpressed by Elias’ answers, though he wasn’t sure what more she expected from him.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Elias?” It was Jon speaking again, and with the question came that same weird, tingly pressure to respond.

“James called me into his office, and I- I honestly thought I’d gotten in trouble somehow, but instead he started talking about how he’d served the Institute for so long, and how it was about time for somebody else to take his place running it so he could go off and retire. When he got to that bit I figured he was just letting me know I’d have a new boss, but then he said I should be the new head, which- which is ridiculous, really, I work hard and all but that’s way beyond my pay grade, I can’t imagine myself running the place-”

Somebody--one of the women, Elias thought--snorted with amusement, which, yes, it was an amusing mental image for him too, but given that he didn’t know these people in the slightest, why would they understand how weird that had been?

“But James insisted, said something about having to make final preparations before handing the Institute over- over to me! He stopped talking, and then... well, and then this. Whatever this is.”

Things were silent for a long moment before Elias spoke up again.

“Since it seems like you’ve finished badgering me for my life’s story, can somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?” He paused for a moment before adding, “And call 999 while you’re at it, I think I need an ambulance, my face hurts and I can’t see a thing-”

“That’s because we took your eyes out.”

Why did that woman sound so... okay with that? Happy, even?

“Daisy, don’t say it like that.”

Oh, God, they were all some kind of- of creepy serial-killing psychopaths, weren’t they? And he was at their mercy, unless he could get up, find his way out of wherever he was, besides in the middle of some kind of bad horror movie-

Elias tried to push himself off the ground again and managed to pull himself into a sitting position before pain and nausea got the best of him. He started feeling the ground around him, trying to get his bearings, possibly even latch onto something he could use as a weapon, though he didn’t even know exactly where his would-be opponents were-

“Calm down, Elias. It’s going to be alright.”

Elias laughed, because he’d rather laugh than cry.

“You took my bloody eyes out! That’s pretty far from alright!”

“Not in this line of business.” Was that supposed to be a joke? If so, it was an awfully dry one. And confusing, but that was quickly becoming par for the course.

“Basira, please.” Jon sounded annoyed at her, but not truly upset.

“I’m just saying.” The woman--Basira--replied.  “Didn’t you try to get Martin to do it with you that one time?”

The other man--Martin, perhaps?--spoke up. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

...were they a cult? Some sort of eye-gouging cult? And they... what, went after him because he was supposed to become James’ successor, or something?

He had been in James’ office just a moment ago, and now he was stuck on the ground somewhere with his eyes gouged out while a bunch of people he didn’t know talked about how they’d considered gouging their own eyes out...

“...what the fuck.”

Elias hadn’t really intended it as a question, because he was getting the sense that he wouldn’t get a straight answer from these people, and he wasn’t even entirely intending for them to hear him, but his speech did bring their ongoing discussion to a close.

“...you really don’t know about any of this, do you?” Probably-Martin said.

Elias shook his head, then brought a hand up to his forehead because fuck that hurt, and if steadying his head meant getting blood on his hand, well, that seemed to be the least of his problems right about now.

“You weren’t aware of the presence of the Eye at all?” That was Jon again. At least he was starting to get a handle of who the people he was speaking with were, even if everything else about the situation was still up in the air.

“Jesus fucking Christ what is with you people and eyes-”

“The Beholding, then, if you prefer. One of Smirke’s Fourteen.”

“I- look, I don’t know what all this freaky cult speak of yours is getting at, okay?”

Somebody sighed.

“This is going nowhere.”

Basira was the one who said it, but Elias couldn’t help but agree, though he only expressed it through a soft “you’re telling me.”

“Alright, alright, what do-” Jon paused, hesitated. “I would like to know how much you know about Jonah Magnus.”

That, at least, was a name Elias recognized. It was a start, perhaps. “I mean, I read up on the history of the Institute a bit when I got hired, but-”

“Anything beyond that?”

“I... what d’you think I’m gonna say, that I go have drinks with the guy every Friday?” Elias laughed a little at his own joke, but wasn’t terribly surprised that none of the others joined in. “He’s from the 1800s. So no, nothing beyond that. Why? Is there some big historical revelation I’m missing here?”

A few people spoke up at once in response, and finally, finally Elias started to hear a bit of sympathy in their voices.

“He- he really didn’t-”

“Oh dear.”

“And I thought you were clueless-”

“Hey!”

“Don’t deny it-”

“Elias.” Jon’s voice was calm and serious as always, and the others settled down at the sound of his voice. “That conversation you had with James Wright. When did that happen?”

Elias didn’t see how this had to do with anything, how the exact time of his last memory would help explain why a bunch of eye-gouging cultist freaks had gotten their hands on him, but he felt that strange pressure he’d felt before when Jon had asked him questions, knew he had to speak, had to share his response no matter what-

“Well, it wasn’t long after I took my lunch--I think it was two, maybe two-thirty?” After a brief pause, Elias added, “In the afternoon.”

That eerie pressure didn’t let up, and as Elias felt the need to continue specifying, part of him started considering why. He was guessing that Jon and the pressure were connected, that if it was still there it meant that Jon wanted to know more, but if Elias had to specify which afternoon... had he been out for more than a few hours? He was far from a doctor, but he knew getting knocked out for long could mess up your mind something fierce, so if he’d been unconscious for days... that... well, that was definitely not good news. Not that he’d really been expecting any at this point.

“On the fourth.”

Still the pressure. Okay, so the month had changed recently, but was it really so ambiguous that he had to state it? “Of... May...”

Even that wasn’t enough, and... they had to be fucking with him, right? There was no way a calendar date wasn’t enough information for them, unless their freaky eye cult didn’t use the same calendar as normal people or something...

“1996?”

The pressure vanished, which in one sense was a relief, but in another made things even scarier because it suggested that they really were satisfied now, which meant that they hadn’t been by him supplying the month and date and time of day.

A long silence fell over the room.

“We need to tell him.”

Elias was pretty sure Basira’s words were directed towards the rest of her little gang rather than towards him, given that he was being referred to in the third person now (which, rude), but he responded anyway. “Tell me what?”

“Elias...” Basira hesitated for a moment before continuing. “It’s not 1996 anymore. It’s 2019.”

Elias laughed, soft and shakily. “Don’t- don’t try to convince me this is some bullshit time travel conspiracy-”

“Not time travel. Not exactly.”

Elias started to open his mouth to ask how else he could have skipped over two decades in the blink of an eye, but Jon spoke up to answer his question before he could even pose it.

“Your body’s been here the whole time, you just haven’t been the one using it. The man you know as James Wright is actually Jonah Magnus, and shortly after that conversation you had with him, he went from controlling James’ body to controlling yours while maintaining control over the Institute. While we’ve worked for the Institute, we knew him as Elias Bouchard.”

“Or ‘that asshole.’“ Daisy added. Somebody Elias couldn’t identify let out a sharp laugh in response.

There was a lot to take in here, and most of it sounded like sci-fi bullshit, which had never really been Elias’ thing. Sure, he worked for the Magnus Institute, but he’d chosen his workplace less because he had any actual interest in the supposed paranormal encounters being chronicled there and more because they were willing to take him and it seemed like a cushy enough office job, possibly a way to pivot into academia even, if he played his cards right and really felt like delving into that ivory tower life. And he’d stayed because, upon arriving there, he found that the work was decent and the coworkers were nice enough and James was a surprisingly understanding boss.

James, who according to them was actually the guy who had founded the Magnus Institute back in the 1800s, and had stolen over two decades of Elias’ life in order to keep control of it.

“...do you have any proof that you’re not just crazy, or, or making all of this up, or both? Because if you expect me to believe this without any proof, well, that’s one hell of a leap...”

There was a pause before anyone responded, and for a moment Elias felt that his instincts had been validated by that pause, that all this crazy talk about his body being controlled by someone else for twenty-plus years was just that, crazy talk and nothing more.

Then Basira asked, clearly and pointedly, “Did you always have that scar on your left hand?”

“I-”

Daisy spoke up in agreement. “Your body must have changed a lot over twenty-three years, even without us taking your eyes. New scars, wrinkles...”

“He’s not that old.” Probably-Martin objected.

“He’s not that young, either.”

They kept bickering a bit, but Elias tuned it out as he ran one hand across the other, seeing what he could feel, whether anything felt off in the way they were suggesting. Granted, he wasn’t exactly in the habit of examining his hands by sense of touch alone, and he went into it fully expecting to be unsure if anything had changed, but...

But he could feel that scar Basira mentioned on his left hand, a thin line raised slightly above the rest of the skin, and no, that definitely hadn’t been there beforehand. His fingernails were shorter than he remembered them being, too--he’d been procrastinating on filing them for some time now--and the paper cut from last Tuesday, and the handful of skin tags left from absentmindedly picking at his cuticles, were nowhere to be found.

“...shit.”

“I’m sorry.” Jon’s voice had more emotion in it now than he’d heard in it before, though it seemed closer to pity than the sympathy Elias would have preferred. At least it seemed genuine enough.

“So, uh, how does this all tie into you gouging my eyes out, exactly?”

“It’s the only way to get away from it--the Institute, the Beholding, Jonah Magnus. Leave the Eye by losing your sight, or not at all.”

“I honestly thought it’d just kill him--er, you, I guess.”

“But evidently not.”

Elias felt like he was going to be sick.

“What about- about Jonah Magnus? If he’s not in my body-”

“We’re hoping to get to the Panopticon and kill his original body before he can take over anyone else.”

Elias didn’t have a clue what the Panopticon was. Elias also didn’t particularly care right this moment.

“If- if all this is true--and I’m still not sure that’s the case, mind you, but if it is, if Jonah Magnus made me lose twenty-three years overnight... fuck, I’ll kill the bastard myself.”

Someone let out a low whistle, while someone else let out a loud, raucous laugh.

“That’s the spirit!”

“I take back all the times I cursed your name. Elias Bouchard, you’re alright in my book.”

(There was a backstory there, obviously, but Elias was in no hurry to learn the details.)

Elias felt a hand grip his, one that was soft and warm, and as that hand helped pull him up, he heard Probably-Martin say, “Welcome to the team, Elias.”