#and i tried the first of the magnus series but didn’t like it
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look at me. look at me. should i read the entire riordanverse.
#just finished my reread of the lightning thief (rereading all in prep for the show even though i need tlt)#and i’m on hold for the chalice of the gods at the library#and i read hoo YEARS ago but i do want to reread#i read the red pyramid in like 6th grade but i remember nothing#and i tried the first of the magnus series but didn’t like it#i know not all the books will be fantastic but should i.#lindsay posts
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I absolutely love Superboys Halloween costume. What costumes do you think the batboys would wear for Halloween?
Oh I’m so glad you asked.
I think as a kid Dick was very typical in that he liked dressing up as things he thought were cool, Robin Hood, pirates, cowboys. One memorable year he tried to convince Bruce to let him go as Robin and for Bruce to go as Batman, and he was unrelenting. Finally they compromised and Dick went as Batman and Bruce went as something vaguely resembling Robin. (He wore a red suit with like a green shirt and yellow tie.) As retribution Dick went as Superman the next year and now that’s his go to costume any year that he doesn’t have a better idea. The last few years he’s been really into pun costumes. Last year he went in a running outfit, then over the top he layered like sewing items and went as “Tailor Swift.�� This year he constructed a cardboard chapel and grabbed an oar to be “Chapel Row’in.” Get it… like Chappell Roan. Yeah his family all groaned too. (Credit to Micarah Tewers for those ideas, I’m not nearly that clever)
Jason loved Halloween as a kid. He was really excited by the idea of dressing up as his favorite characters, but none of his favorite characters were things that normal 13 year old boys liked. So it was always like Mr. Darcy or Dr. Frankenstein. And he’d really get into the accuracy of the costumes, totally taking advantage of Bruce’s bank account. Bruce would of course indulge him, though it was usually Alfred helping him put his costumes together. Post-Death Jason stopped dressing up all together. It’s only been recently that he’s been getting back into it. The first year he decided to dress up again he opted for something simple that he thought had plausible deniability as “not a costume.” Dick clocked him immediately.
“Are you dressed as the guy from The Shining?”
“His name is Jack Torrence. How did you get that so fast, you don’t even know his name?”
“Jason, you would never wear flannel voluntarily.”
This year he’s going as a Deep One from “The Shadow Over Innsmouth.”
Tim is the definition of low effort costumes. Most years he doesn’t bother to dress up and when confronted about it he’ll say he’s dressed as “Tony Hawk.” However, he absolutely refuses to be that person who throws on a witch hat or some animal ears. When he does actually dress up it’s usually as someone famous in a specific niche community/field that most people would never know off the top of their head. This year he is going as someone “very obvious;” Magnus Carlsen. (Aka he’s wearing a suit, no tie and carrying around a chess board.)
For his first few Halloween’s with the Waynes Damian just let Alfred choose costumes for him. He had to approve of them, but other than that he claimed to not care, but really he was insecure about picking something for himself. He had limited exposure to pop culture and didn’t really even know his own taste at that point, so Alfred dressing him was safe. Alfred’s picks were nice, if a bit generic, and super biased. One year he went as a prince, another year Sherlock Holmes, really anything Alfred wanted to see on Damian. Around 12 he started feeling comfortable enough to pick for himself. Last year he went as the male lead in his favorite Shoujo manga (I don’t know if the manga he likes in canon has a name). This year Jon talked him into a group costume, so Jon is going as Naruto and Damian is going as Sasuke (the designs from the original series, not Shippuden.)
Duke tends to opt for famous film characters. He prefers costumes that he can build out of normal clothing, but as a kid he totally dressed up in those cheap Spirit Halloween costumes. If Marvel existed in their universe, he would have loved going as Miles Morales’ Spider-Man. Now that he’s a teenager, he’s too embarrassed to go as things he deems dorky. He has toyed with the idea of a MMA related costume, but that’s still too embarrassing for him, so he defaults back to cool movie characters. He’s gone as a lot Quentin Tarantino characters. It started with Jules Winnfield, and it spiraled from there. This year he’s going as Warren from “Hateful Eight.” (Not his favorite Tarantino film but he’s running out of new characters and he thinks his outfit is cool)
You didn’t ask about the girls but I have ideas for them too.
Steph ADORES Halloween and she goes all out. She loves dressing up in costumes that she feels hot in. Not in the “insert costume but sexy” way just things that allow her to dress up nice. When she and Tim were dating she tried to get him to do a couple’s costume with her. The result was a very high effort beautiful Corpse Bride next to the lowest effort Victor you’ve ever seen. She learned her lesson and the next year she dressed Tim herself (he bitched the whole time but admitted he looked good when she was done). They went as Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett. She usually planned their costumes a year in advance, but sadly they broke up before they made it to doing Ichabod Crane and Katrina Van Tassel. Tim awkwardly offered to still do it but she declined. Instead she went as Mary Van Tassel. This year she’s doing something classic, and going as a vampire, complete with Twilight-style sparkles. She’s also a big fan of fake blood and usually tries to incorporate into her costume in some way.
Cass is the wildcard of the family. She always keeps her costume a secret until the night of. As far as themes, her costumes tend to be all over the place. She tends to stay in the generic realm, so less referential, but she mixes it up whether or not she does something scary, or funny, or cool. I do think she tends to prefer costumes that include masks or helmets. I don’t know what they’re called but I have a friend who is really into those like cyberpunk robot helmets, I think she’d love those. However, this year she really mixed it up and decided to go as Ellie from “Last of Us” and roped Bruce into going as Joel. He had no idea who that was, but Cass sharing her Halloween plans prior to Halloween is a big deal, so he agreed immediately.
Babs is also a victim of the low effort Halloween costume. She’s fine throwing on a witch hat and calling it good. When she does dress up the costumes are usually fairly recognizable and comfortable. She likes to dress up as red haired characters like Kim Possible, or that one year she went as Lois Griffin (she thought she was hilarious). Another year she went as Link from Wind Waker specifically, just because she had a lot of green in her closet already. The most effort she ever put into a costume was when she poorly recreated (intentionally) the Discowing suit. This year she’s going as Ellie Sattler from Jurassic Park.
Also not a batboy, but we’ve done the whole family might as well do the Bat himself. When left to his own devices Bruce usually goes as one of two things: The Grey Ghost or James Bond. He basically just cycles between those two costumes every year, unless one of his kids requests something else (that is also reasonable). One year he lost a bet, and he dressed up as Superman and that was memorable. As I mentioned this year he is going as Joel for Cass. He hadn’t seen the show before she asked, and to be honest he’s probably only watched the first episode simply for the costume.
When asked Alfred says he’s dressed as the “Butler who did it” in reference to the murder mystery trope.
#this was probably way longer than it needed to be#i just love these types of asks#so thank you#dc#dc headcanon#batfamily#batfam#asks
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Malec meet pre-canon divergent
(considering tv-show canon only, as I don't know much about the books) I personally found it a little weird that Alec and his siblings had to be briefed about the High Warlock of their territory, by Hodge. Shouldn't Alec, as the acting head, have been aware of the most prominent downworld leaders in the city his institute is in? Wouldn't Magnus have been in the institute before, for ward maintenance or things like that? Wouldn't they have had to call him to close rifts that demons were popping out of? (Not like those kinds of things were ever shown or discussed in the show, but then again, the show was very stingy where details and backgrounds were concerned.) Anyway, I would like to propose a series re-write, where Alec and Magnus get to know each other pre-canon, and Magnus has the chance to bolster Alec's self-worth and confidence a little. And then exploring what effect this might have, as Alec wouldn't be such a pushover where his siblings are concerned. (I actually just really like re-writes of given plots that explore changes to said given plot, so that personal guilty pleasure might heavily play into this prompt…. 😉 )
possible scene:
They could meet on site for rift closure, and Alec is laying down a plan of attack, because some demons have already gathered. And then Jace is trying to propose another plan (that's less tactical than Alec's was and more of a 'run in head first' kinda deal). And Alec is not confident about his own plan versus Jace's, and he is about to give in, but then Magnus is like: "I agree with the pretty boy." And Jace smirks and goes: "See, the high warlock thinks it will work." And then Magnus goes: "Oh no, I was talking about his plan. Yours sucks."
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I think, if a relationship between them (platonic heading for romantic) exists for some time, Magnus would probably let slip about Maryse and Robert having been in the circle. Not in a malicious way. I think Magnus assumed that Alec knew. So maybe one day Magnus offers to check over the wards, and Alec accepts and wonders loudly about why his parents didn’t commission check ups for two years,
and Magnus just "Well, they have tried to limit their business with downworlders as much as possible. Which isn't surprising, seeing as many of us feel that they haven't been sufficiently punished for their crimes while they were in the circle. But it's not as if I would have refused the job. I might have overcharged them, … Alexander? You look pale, is something wrong?"
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I just see them having lots of little conversations that help build Alec up, while not just being simple compliments. Like, when Alec doubts his leadership qualities and asks Magnus about his opinion, as Magnus has fought in a few wars and known a few figureheads. "I believe being a good leader comes down to knowing and trusting in yourself." "Shouldn’t that be 'knowing and trusting my people'?" "That, too. But it's important to know your own strengths and weaknesses. For example, I'm one of the most powerful warlocks out there with a deep and varied understanding of my craft, and I look dashing in silk. I'm also impatient, occasionally vain, and I can be quite petty. Now what about you? Let me start you off. You are afraid." "Wow, didn’t think you would start with a weakness." "I didn’t. Well, maybe a little bit. Fear can be both. But in this case, I meant it as a strength." "How?" "Think back to our first meeting. The fear of not knowing what the situation was we were walking into, made you come up with a strategy that allowed us to assess what was going on, while also ensuring minimal collateral damage. What do you think would have happened had you been as cocky as your parabatai, and stormed right in?" "… We wouldn’t have known about the circle members, or the back entrance. The perimeter wouldn’t have been secured. The teen warlock might have become a victim to a shadowhunter blade, had you not had the chance to see the enslavement collar on her." "See? You have good instincts, Alexander, and a great mind for tactical manouvers. That is something you should trust in more."
#magnus bane#alec lightwood#malec#shadowhunters tv#malec prompt#series rewrite prompt where malec meet pre-canon#canon would change due to this#butterfly effect my precious#all the change
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You know those days where everything that can go wrong does go wrong? Yeah, that’s what the last couple of minutes of this episode felt like. Jon tried to contain the fears because he’s a self sacrificing son of a bitch and Martin changed the plan in a futile attempt to save him and it backfired and he had to be the one to kill Jon, the one price he absolutely didn’t want to pay. And now the Fears have been released into other dimensions and I’m assuming that’s what the audience is supposed to be: a dimension that the Fears entered and the tapes are explaining why and how it happened. Everything went according to the Web’s plan and nobody’s choices mattered. It won. And Jon and Martin are either dead, somewhere else, or who knows? They became a mystery, the last thing Jon wanted to be.
I do try to look at some positive things when it comes to tragedies and ambiguous endings though. Like, I’m the one who likes to believe Spike lives at the end of Cowboy Bebop or that Dom Cobb makes it to the real world in Inception. And there are two positive things I’m keeping in mind with the Magnus Archives.
First, even though Jon changed a lot and was more of a monster at the end and losing his humanity was something he really feared, I feel like he didn’t lose it all. Heck, he might have become even more human in a way. At the beginning of the series, he kept everyone at arm’s length and didn’t exactly show a lot of empathy. He cared, he just tended to keep it to himself. But as the series went on, we saw more and more that he did care, a lot. He loved and cared so much for the people around him. He made mistakes, but he tried so hard to do right by them. And I know his care for others was something the Fears and Jonah used to manipulate him, but I still feel like it’s important that he didn’t completely lose that, even at the end. He became more monstrous, but he became more human too.
Second, even though Jon was manipulated by so many things throughout his life, there was one choice that I feel like was really his: loving Martin. All the fear and trauma may have pushed them together, but that didn’t mean they had to fall in love with each other. But they did anyway and they made each other better. Martin was finally moving past what he suffered and was believing that he had value. Jon had found someone that would love him no matter how much he changed. And I feel like there’s gotta be some significance in that their last words to each other were “I love you.” Love has beaten the fears before, so maybe it was enough to beat this. And that’s why I choose to hope that they ended up somewhere else, together.
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Mamahersh’s Post-MAG-200 Fanfic Recommendation Mega Thread
@a-mag-a-day
In celebration of us finishing The Magnus Archives (even if I admittedly fell off around S2 and have been mostly lurking since then), I have compiled all of my fave post series fics for your enjoyment! I will be grouping them in some big, general categories, which I’ll list above the read more here. Depending on the size of this post, it might start looking a bit like that “Do you like the sky?” post But I can assure you that I have read all of these and can give them my stamp of approval!
If you finished the series and were wishing for your best boys to finally be happy, then boy howdy do I have some fanfiction for you!
Time Travel
Somewhere Else
AUs
Uncategorized JonMartin Fluff
By these categories, we should hopefully cover all the recommendations I have, and I hope you all find some new fics! (or enjoy rereading fics you haven’t enjoyed in awhile)
TIME TRAVEL
where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten
"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?
What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."
________________________
Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.
Probably my fave time travel fic in this fandom hands down; it is also currently the longest whilst still unfinished. While I try not to recommend unfinished fics that I am uncertain of their return to activity, this is a big exception and personally I love everything about it! It’s got Jon dealing with trauma through the lens of his speaking only in Statements, Martin being saved from his downward spiral into the Lonely way earlier in S4, Georgie actually sticking around, Basira having a better grasp of the situation and being more understanding about it, and everyone generally sticking close to character while managing to buck parts of the narrative. I cannot recommend this fic enough, and I very likely already did back near the start of S5.
Something’s Different About You Lately by thesnadger
Jonathan Sims has been head archivist for just a few months, but he has memories of holding the position for years. He remembers monsters, and darkness, and the end of the world. Somehow, he'll have to keep everyone safe from what's coming. Meanwhile, his assistants can't understand why their prickly jerk of a boss has gone sappy all of a sudden.
So TMA time travel fics that focus on Jon going back tend to come in two varieties. There’s the “Jon’s mind goes back and replaces himself/inhabits his past self’s body” and then there’s the “Jon physically goes back so there’s two Jons”. The first two on this list are of the first variety, and if I remember right this was one of the first I ever read. However, I recommend this one specifically because this has an amazing ending. Like, it might just be me, but many of the endings in these feel relatively unsatisfying because there’s magically a third option where Jon comes out unscathed while saving his S1 archives crew from the Horrors. For whatever reason, it was incredibly satisfying having a fic that didn’t shy away from the options presented in S4 and S5 and I love how they characterize everyone in this one as well.
100 Seconds to Midnight by starspangledbread
Jon and Martin find themselves back in 2011 after attempting to release the fears from their reality. The world is the same one they left behind, but now something has come back with them. They have a chance to destroy the fears once and for all, but it proves harder than expected. Who knew that the best laid plans could be thwarted by nosy co-workers, office romance, the inevitable learning curve of being a time traveler turned grifter, and the refusal to believe in subtlety?
Did someone say Extinction!Jon? This also is a part of a series, though the true sequel to this one is currently unfinished (though it should eventually be completed and only has one chapter to go). An excellent romp, I definitely recommend if you’re looking for something kinda dark, some comedy, a little OOC, and Martin being able to embrace his crime side in the name of saving the world.
Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey
"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.
Written by my fave (and most prolific) JMart author, we have a perfect example of the other kind of time travel fix it fic in the form of Jon physically travelling to the past to try and save the world. As expected by someone I am calling my fave JMart author, we’re going to be getting double dose on the JMart. I highly recommend if you’re looking for something that starts a little bittersweet, but then ends in copious amounts of fluff.
Reverb (Series) by Wolftraps
Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.
Summary from the first fic in the Reverb series, I highly recommend the first two fics in this series for different reasons. “The Reverb in These Holy Halls” is a great time travel fic that takes some really interesting turns by the end and unlike most fics actually has Jon try to keep Tim safe by keeping him out of the Archives pre-S1. However “Gossip” I recommend if you enjoy those fics formatted to look like official communication of some kind. It’s got people outside the Archives trying to figure out what’s wrong with them during the events of the first fic, and while it would be very confusing to read without the first fic, I’d almost say it’s worth it if you aren’t feeling the tags on the first one. Really fun and entertaining, you can’t go wrong with either one.
The Triumph of Galatea (for Acis is transformed) by TheOestofOCs
Statement of Hazel Rutter.
Jon couldn’t stop reading.
The Fears, however, are a bit more powerful than Jonah gave them credit for. Jon opens the door, but the world can’t hold what’s on the other side.
Time falls through, instead. Past becomes present, and the future is undone.
Statement begins.
Another fic I definitely recommended back at episode 160, but is well worth the second recommendation and/or re-read. Time Travel, but what if Jon could control as well as go into the dreams of the assistants/other Eye aligned people instead of just his victims’ dreams? Very good, even if unfinished, though the author seems likely to finish someday. Check out their other work as well, it’s all very good and has my fave Circus themed fic written to date.
a map of what matters most by gruhukens
“Is that a body,” Tim blurts before he can stop himself, rising to his feet. Martin looks, if possible, even more scared.
“He’s alive!” he hisses, almost defensively. “It’s not - it’s not Gertrude again, I didn’t kill him, he just – I don’t know what happened to him, I just found him in the stacks like this.”
“And you dragged him up here?” Tim says, and then registers several things at once – the build, the hair texture; the little round scars peppering a pair of thin hands and an awfully familiar face. “Wait, is that Jon?”
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Jon stumbles back into an earlier Archive, looking for a way to fix the world. (Or, mom says it's my turn for the obligatory time travel au)
Directly inspired by CirrusGrey’s fic that I recommended earlier, this is another: Jon travels physically into the past fic. This one though is far more bittersweet than “Yesterday is Here”, but still an excellent read and does a great job at fleshing out the relationships between all the characters.
Saving the Universe: For Dummies by GhostChoir
Finding a man bleeding out in the alleyway was not what Elias wanted to do today. And he certainly didn’t mean to befriend him. But things never did go how he expected.
****** A Post-MAG200 Jon meets a 1970s Elias, an Elias from before he was corrupted by Jonah. Together, the two of them learn to cope with grief, drink more tea than any two people should be able to consume, and commiserate over shitty bosses. Oh, and just for the hell of it, they stop an apocalypse along the way.
Now for a change of pace: What if Jon time travels to the time of early Gertrude and Elias pre-Jonafying? A very good fic is what! While it’s been awhile since I read this, I do remember it’s quite good and deserves a chance. Note: this is NOT Jonathan/Elias, so my apologies if you were looking for that, but it is two very lonely men getting to just have a reliable friend in times of trouble.
A Little Game of Cat and Mouse by Paptato
“Jonah Magnus.” The cloudy silhouette snarled as it’s hand clamped tightly around Jonah's ascot. That was indeed his name, but Jonah couldn’t begin to fathom what he did to have it spat out with such hatred.
But nonetheless, Jonah was a gentleman and he would kindly address the angry figure as politely as possible, “Yes, and you are?”
“What?” The form spluttered as it slowly came into focus. Ah, yes. That probably wasn’t the proper response to being held at gunpoint by a random stranger. Must have been the blow to his head.
(Or in which Jonathan Sims goes back in time and tries to pull a Terminator, but fails and Jonah Magnus finds a new mystery to solve.)
This is that Jonah Magnus/Jonathan Sims enemies to lovers fic your friends warn you about in a good way. It’s not done, but I think it’s still being updated very slowly. Even if all I ever read is the currently released 11 chapters, I will consider it my one exception to my dislike of Jonah/Jon. As you can probably guess by the description, it’s a time travel fix it where Jon gets shunted back in time to when Jonah was still very human and still trying to figure out the Fears. The Web keeps Jon from explaining his circumstances or anything to do with Jonah’s future in particular, but this is a good thing and they both get to learn how to be more human in a world that previously was very antagonistic to those goals. It’s got a heavy dose of comedy, plenty of romantic tension, and lots of both surprising and unsurprising cameos. If you enjoy Dracula Daily, you’ll probably enjoy this imho.
Déjà Vu by CirrusGrey
Sasha remembers being unmade. Tim remembers being Unknown. Jon and Martin remember being unwound. All of them think they're the only one. -------- The S1 crew wakes up in the past with memories up till the moment they died.
So, here’s another one that’s got quite the spin on it. As you can see from the description, this one is where S1 crew all get their minds sent back in time to the time right around Jon’s first statement if I remember right. Another CirrusGrey fic, so it heavily leans on JonMartin, but otherwise it’s a wonderful exploration of the four S1 characters and ends on a very hopeful note!
oh my darling, just a moment of your time by IceEckos12
The Institute is visited by a pair of time travelers, and Jon has an important question for Tim.
Have you ever had a oneshot that just kinda guts you unexpectedly? While this might not do this for everyone, this is an amazing oneshot that gets right the point. I love it a lot, because of all of the fics where future and past meet each other, it very rarely if ever is addressed that past Jon was a douche. Or well it is but past Jon doesn’t necessarily have a character moment from it. Here he does, and despite the briefness of the fic, the author does an amazing job of giving Jon and Tim a moment while making an almost critique of the TMA time travel genre. Highly, highly recommend, and it won’t overstay it’s welcome if it doesn’t end up being your thing.
The Severing of Webs by chlodobird
After Jon kills the world, he travels back in time. Once there, he gets ready to change the future, to save his Assistants, and to watch as everyone learns to hate him again.
Unfortunately, the tapes wrap around him like a fly caught in a Web—he can't move. He's trapped reliving the original timeline, stuck acting out his past actions like an actor rehearsing his lines.
Sasha will die. Tim will die. Martin—
(Jon screams inside his mind, and someone hears him. Fate is not as immutable as he fears.)
This one is a brand new one! While basically all of the others on the list have been out/updating for over a year at this point; this lengthy oneshot just released this month. tbh, very excellent, which is why it has made the list. Also, quite the twist on the usual premise, where being sent back into his head is actually a bad thing this time. Ends with a giant pile of fluff, but who would I be if all my time travel recommendations were not also fix-its?
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Somewhere Else
it will be this, always by bluejayblueskies
Jon coughed again, and blood stained his lips and blood stained Martin’s hands where they pressed against Jon’s back and blood stained the floor beneath them and help, they needed help.
Martin doesn’t remember shouting. He barely remembers the faces that had surrounded them, wide-eyed and terrified, all utterly unfamiliar.
.
Jon and Martin wake up somewhere else. Jon begins a slow path toward physical recovery, and several important, long-put-off conversations are had as they begin to navigate a new world that they hadn’t thought they’d be alive to see.
So, I’m sure you all have gathered that I have qualms with how much disparity there is between canon and fanon Jmart. This fic is painful, but is the most in character depiction of post 200 JMart fallout I have ever read. The ending is very cathartic, and takes a “realistic” approach to what happens to Jon and Martin as they begin to navigate their relationship after they both had betrayed each other so thoroughly in the leadup and culmination of MAG 200. If you don’t want them immediately making up, this is the fic for you. They get there, but by all that is good do they take their sweet time getting there.
Out There, Somewhere by Artyphex
"I'm sorry, you were found alone."
Jon survived the apocalypse and now will go to the end of this new, unfamiliar world to find Martin again.
So I think I’m just getting all the angsty ones out of the way first lol. Another slow burn, this fic is Jon’s recovery in the new reality while he also searches for what happened to Martin. Since I don’t post the tags, I will say this ones does feature “Eventual Happy Ending”, and I do promise that both Jon and Martin made it to the new reality and lived. But Jon and Martin both get to pine and cope for a while before that happy ending tag comes into play. It’s incredibly well done and explores their characters really well. Personally, I kinda enjoyed the Reddit saga because people mistaking Jon’s pleas for Martin as an ARG is very typical internet and 100% I would have bought into that at age 13.
Of course I need a therapist. I need ten therapists, working round the clock building me a bionic coping mechanism. We have the technology. by MartinKBlackwoodESQ
A story set somewhere else.
I’mma be real with you all, if I believed that characters could write and publish their own fanfiction, I would be halfway convinced the name is accurate. All joking aside however, this is a “crack treated seriously” fic but with characterization so on point I can consistently hear the voice actors when I read this. Admittedly, it’s made easier by it being written in transcript formatting, but if you’re looking for a hilarious time where TMA is suddenly is turned into a buddy cop adventure where Jon and Martin go to a universe where the Fears hadn’t been till their arrival, and they have doubles that already exist there who are living fairly normal lives till the TMA Jon and Martin crash land into their reality... Well this fic is one I cannot recommend highly enough. It also has a sequel, and it is also well worth the read, even if it appears to be on a bit of a break in it’s updates.
Worlds like phyllo pastry by neworld
After episode 200 Jon finds himself alone in a world very much like the one he left but fractionally different. It's so similar he finds versions of his former friends existing happily in the world. Unfortunately they have never met him in this universe and have no idea who he is.
This one’s unfinished, but personally it’s well worth the read as is. Not sure how I feel about the most recent chapter, but the story up till that point is a really fun spin on “Jon and Martin get shunted to a new reality” where Jon learns how to feed in a way that doesn’t cause problems facilitated by the new reality, and re-meets all the people who he lost till this point and has a very silly antagonistic relationship with his alternate self. While fic might be more of a guilty pleasure, it still is written in such a way that I would rank it high enough for this disorganized list.
Death Is The Easy Way Out by traveller19
After having killed Jonah Magnus and ended the Change, Jon and Martin should finally be able to rest. Rest, however, proves impossible when Jon falls ill. What's more, he begins having vivid dreams of their dead friends - Tim, trapped in the destroyed Archives, and Sasha, trapped outside of them. As Jon's condition quickly worsens and the line between dream and reality begins to blur, love is all he and Martin have to hold on to, because hope is a dangerous thing.
Did someone say sickfic??? But for real, this fic has an amazing balance between an A plot and a B plot, and keeps both at the right level of tension throughout. While this is a sickfic heavy one, it also features Tim and Sasha as ghosts trying desperately not to be. There’s also a lovely sequel and plenty of fluff by the end, but this is a rough ride. ALSO, if you or a loved one had covid / any respiratory illness that caused them to be hospitalized with pneumonia and it could be trigging to read incredibly on the nose descriptions of that experience, this fic is not for you. Or very cathartic. :/
Castaways by CirrusGrey
Welcome to the Castaway Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing a safe and secure landing to those lost souls banished from their home worlds by the influence of Fear.
If you wanted saccharine JMart in a new reality where they get therapy and meet old friends from different realities, this series of (mostly) one shots is for you! As you’ve probably come to expect when I suggest CirrusGrey, the writing is fantastic, the ship dynamics are exemplary, and the character are on point. There is so much to say about this series, but mostly, if you want Jon and Martin healing and then settling together and becoming the stereotypical married couple, then this is it. It’s not done, but it is wrapping up, and I hope you all if you haven’t seen this yet enjoy it as much as I do. And for those long time readers who have been reading it longer than I’ve been in the fandom, here’s your friendly reminder that it exists.
Do Before I Die by SupposedToBeWriting
Somewhere Else, Jon can't seem to shake the strange apathy that now plagues his life. Everything reminds Martin of the end of the world. For a change of pace, he and Martin rent a campervan and go on a road trip. Their mission? To fulfill the 'bucket list' Martin made when he was eighteen and lonely. Jon's looking forward to the beach.
Jon and Martin go on a Road Trip accross Britain. It’s just a wholesome and hurt/comfort as it describes. An excellent romp, and the character studies are wonderful. The Planetarium still sticks with me.
ours is a distant shore (series) by pantsoflobster
“If they ever found out about us, we could make things really complicated for them," Jon said. Martin gave a thoughtful hum and then a loaded pause before he said, “Or simpler.” “What?” “We could, you know…” Martin then made mischievous eyes at him in lieu of expanding. “What?” Jon said, thoroughly lost. “Wouldn’t it be a bit fun to sort of... nudge them in the right direction?”
Months after they arrive Somewhere Else, Jon sees himself in the shop.
Summary is from the first fic in the series, this is a fun little romp for those who hated Martin’s defeatism over his and Jon’s relationship in MAG199 and want to see what would happen if instead he accidentally kick started an alternate version and his and Jon’s relationship Somewhere Else. It’s all very silly, tho the last fic does lean more into the hurt/comfort tag than the previous two. Over all though, if you’re looking for a little crack, a lot of fluff, and Jon and Martin being silly this is a good time.
Written in the Stars Will Have to Do by GentlemanCrow
“Yeah well, god knows why, but he thinks you hung the moon, so you might try treating him at the very least like a human being once in a while.”
It was such a small thing. Small words for a small feeling cloaked in a chintzy veneer of idiomatic dismissal. A trembling little bird cupped in his scarred and battered hands and smothered. Or so he thought. Sometimes trembling little birds turn out to be phoenixes, and those who looked to someone else to hang the comfort of a wise, silvery moon in the sky already have the hammer and the picture wire at the ready.
As far as Jon was concerned, the moon only rose on their Somewhere Else because Martin deigned to pull the strings every night, not him.
This is another one of those JMart Somewhere Else fics masquerading as a Safehouse fic that made me want to cry. It’s just, so wonderful, and once again we have themes of healing, but this time through getting a hobby and sharing it with your significant other. The writing is lovely and really gives off the stuffy academic musings I would expect being in Jon’s head (which we are for the duration of this fic) but adds a layer that I didn’t realized I needed till I read it.
On Errantry by ZaliaChimera
Somewhere Else, Jon and Martin discover that their new home has a very special sort of guardian, and Jon seeks judgement from an unexpected source.
They do say that cats purring can heal...
A cute one shot that deals with Jon’s lingering guilt from S5; this is a wonderful tale from Somewhere Else featuring a giant Cat, Martin being supportive, and Jon trying to reconcile his second chance. Very sweet and fluffy, guaranteed!
Lost, Unfound, But Not Forgotten by Elynn
They didn’t find bodies. Or anything pointing to where they may have gone. In the center of the rubble, what Georgie assumed to have once been the top of the tower, was a puddle of dried, crusted blood, and the outline of bodies in the dust and scorch marks. And she knew that wherever the Fears had gone, Jon and Martin had gone with them. The last victims, snuffed and dragged away with them. --- In the weeks after the Eye-pocolypse, Georgie Barker begins the painful process of mourning her best friend.
So, I know I’m very focused on Jon, but I have one fic of Georgie here that’s 10/10. Post 200, Georgie and Melanie eventually goes to clean out Daisy’s cabin of Jon and Martin’s things for Basira (or something like that) and Georgie finds a journal of Jon’s that he kept whilst there. It’s just as bittersweet as you’d imagine, but it’s fantastically cathartic to read and in our MAG 200 feels, this is a good one for closure.
Not Quite Somewhere Else by hawkfurze
Or you can find it on Tumblr HERE
A special entry to finish out this section, I have a long running comic from Tumblr user @hawkfurze who made a TMA x Infinity Train crossover. While I had not watched the show previously (only seen the trailer/pilot from back before it got picked up by CN), the comic is still easy to understand and explains the Infinity Train parts in such a way as to not need any prior knowledge. I highly recommend this comic for anyone who wants a visual treat delving into the relationship and psyches of Jon and Martin as they try to escape into the next reality.
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AUs
Two Graves by SupposedToBeWriting
Jon sends the fears far from Earth and flees London, leaving the others to assume the worst. He settles in a small village and opts to live there quietly until he dies, a self-imposed penance. This plan is foiled when the first former Avatar shows up - and Jon realizes that every domain-keeper in the apocalypse still has some faint connection to him.
After a year of being a shoulder to cry on for confused and distraught former Avatars, Jon leads a moderately happy life. He has a flourishing garden, a cat, and some company. All of that comes crashing around his ears (or his head) when a familiar face shows up to his cabin, demanding answers.
This fic is in my top 5 fics of TMA fandom. No contest. It has some of the best healing from MAG 200 for Jon and Martin and tbh the world I’ve seen. It’s got that incredible hurt/comfort and the ending makes me cry tears of joy every time I read it. If you read any JMart fic on this list, please read this one if you can only read one. While I was tempted to put this in a different category, this seemed like the best place to put it.
What Comes After by Mornrandir
More than a year after the apocalypse, the world is starting to move on. Georgie, Melanie, and Basira have learned to move on and get back to living their lives. Then Martin reappears- without Jon- and they have to learn to begin again.
A series based around the initial above description, each entry in the series follows the healing of first Martin, then Jon, then both of them together. While I am a Jon-centric woman, if you are of a more Martin-centric leaning, this first fic in the series should scratch that itch. The final entry is very sweet, and the second definitely has a unique reason as to why Jon shows up so late to the after-Fears party.
The Watcher’s Cows by lenioia
He still remembers the first cup of tea Martin brought him. That’s where it began, not with the dog incident. A sweet and strong blend, reasons for appearance unknown, how could it taste so good, also unknown. Jon stares at what will be the last cup between them. His miserable parting gift. Where it’ll end.
Alt Mag 200, or in a slightly kinder universe which differs by exactly one cup of tea, Martin is the one who switches plan last minute, and Jon’s last half-backed scheme, for once, works.
An AU splitting off MAG 199/200, where Jon’s plan actually happens, but instead of it being quite so bleak he finds a new path with the help of Martin. I know the original ending of the series is probably the most hopeful one realistically, but we all enjoy our fixits here, so this is a really sappy “by the power of love” Jon and Martin save the universe and still get to live in it AU. Highly highly recommend, and it finished within the last 8 months, so it’s “on the newer side” as it were. If you haven’t read it, give it a shot, and if you’ve read it and it’s been awhile now’s a good time to read it again.
The Eyespot Chronicles (series) by SupposedToBeWriting
To Martin Blackwood's surprise, he wakes up in the ruins of the Magnus Institute. He thought he would be dead. The world is back to normal, the Entities are gone, and everyone realizes that it's finally over. The only sticking point is that Jon isn't exactly the Jon that went into the apocalypse. Never one to give up, Martin is determined to make a life for himself and his boyfriend. Even if he is a giant moth.
Summary taken from the first in the series, this trilogy of fics covers Jon and Martin’s attempts at healing in a world that remembers what happened. The first fic focuses entirely on Martin’s struggles, the second on Jon’s, and the 3rd (as you might guess) focuses on them both. The series is excellent, and if you’ve got the fortitude for canon-typical emotional constipation after having just experienced MAG-200 it’s well worth the read.
Another Guest for Mr. Spider by Dribbledscribbles
Jon isn't eating his statements like he should.
Mr. Spider doesn't like it.
Written in transcript format, this AU considers the idea of what if the Web was more hands on it it’s approach to getting Jon to Become more monstrous; or at least not starve himself out. Incredible read, you need an AO3 account though. But I have never been that spooked by a Statement or encounter before I read this fic. If you DO NOT like spiders on you or in your mouth and you don’t like reading about it either, potentially hold off on this fic, or at least skip from where Mr. Spider says “Open your mouth. Do not move.” to when he says “Wash it down with this. Now.” But yeah if you didn’t get enough spider trauma from canon, this fic gives it in spades! (And if you want Mr. Spider getting his comeuppance, you get that too ;) )
Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou
As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.
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Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.
A long form AU of what if Gerry Keay was brought back by the Eye to convince Jon to stay on team Monster if you will. Goes all the way through MAG-200, has some great twists and turns, and manages to turn into an “Everyone Lives AU” as well. While it is currently updating, it’s updating every week on Saturday till it finishes, and she only has 2 chapters left. If you’ve managed to never read this, now is certainly the time for it! It is Jon/Gerry/Martin, so if that’s not your exact cup of tea I’d still say give it a shot.
we should ride this wave to shore by ClarionGlass
“archives research & statement envestigation” Timothy Stoker renamed the group “drinks drinks drinks” Timothy Stoker changed Sasha James’s nickname to saucy sash Timothy Stoker changed Martin Blackwood’s nickname to martini kart Timothy Stoker changed his nickname to stonked stonked: so how bout it lads saucy sash: oh god. A TMA group chat fic where the worst problems they have to deal with start with "h" and end with "angovers"
Right, I don’t tend to read chat fics, I’m going to be honest with you all. I have two exceptions and this is one of them. It goes interesting places, the characters are not completely OOC, if it they are at least it’s consistent OOC and not in a grating way. But in all seriousness, I recommend this because of how it ties in with MAG 160 and 200; as well as how the sequel deals with canon S5. The sequel isn’t finished and is slow to update, but I am still recommending at the very least the first one. It’s a good romp and I highly recommend.
Ask an Exec: How to Navigate Cultish Colleagues, Soul-Stealing Bosses, and the End of the World at Work by shinyopals
I've recently been unexpectedly promoted to lead a department in my organisation, wrote the anonymous emailer.
As there was no one working here when I arrived, my manager, who is head of the organisation, had promised me the choice of my own assistants. However, without warning, he simply presented me with an additional assistant. This new assistant’s first act on his first day was to let a dog into the office. It took several hours to catch and clean up after this dog and it has only been downhill from there. I admit I'm not entirely sure what to do with this assistant now I'm stuck with him. I'm hoping you have some advice?
Kind regards, New Manager
Abigail Bailey runs a successful management advice blog. One frequent contributor is from a workplace with some... issues.
While this isn’t quite an AU and is basically canon compliant, I’m putting it here because it’s a “what if Jon was an avid seeker of advice on a management advice blog?” AU. It’s beautifully formatted, and features very in character interactions. If you are a sucker for the TMA trope: how do normal people react to the weirdness at the Institute, then this is a great fic for you. I know it’s probably one of the most popular things to have hit the Jonathan Sims tag on AO3 in recent months, but this is just me reminding you all it exists and well worth the re-read.
JMart Fluff
Author CirrusGrey
Literally anything by them. I think I probably recommend them every time I talk about JMart, but I think on AO3 they are both the most prolific and one of the best writers for the tag. Pick almost any fic they’ve written for TMA and it’s probably JMart. There’s too many fics of their’s to recommend, so I’ll just link you straight to their profile and you can go swimming from there lol.
Jon’s Moving Castle by IceEckos12
Martin Blackwood may not have a perfect life, but he does have a good one. That is, until a series of magical encounters leave him with an unfortunate curse. Out of other options, he goes to the wizard who lives in the moving castle for aid.
Life never goes how he intends it to, though.
Basically Howl’s Moving Castle, but with a TMA spin. You don’t need to have seen the movie to understand what’s going on, and honestly while it sticks fairly close to the movie, it doesn’t stick so close that it feels constrained by it in places where it wouldn’t make sense in the AU they’ve set up. It’s a very sweet JMart fic with a satisfying conclusion.
The 101 Kidnappings of Jonathan Sims (and Other Inconveniences) by beetlejoos
Martin Blackwood never applies for a job at the Magnus Institute. The universe seems determined that he meets Jonathan Sims anyway. But is it Fate, or something more sinister, that keeps bringing the two of them together?
Right, this mostly crack treated seriously. It’s got hurt/comfort, but it’s fairly light hearted throughout. As one could guess by the title and description, Jon is repeatedly kidnapped and brought to wherever Martin is living/working at the time. While it’s not done yet, and not on a schedule, the chapters that are out thus far are well worth the read. That and there’s some cute fan art for it that’s linked to in the end notes. But I recommend this because it’s got that vibe of S1 Jon meets S1 Martin outside of the Institute and romance (eventually) happens. Very fun read if you haven’t read it yet.
i think we’re alone now + alone-verse (series) by milliganopen
Just a couple of guys breaking into a basement. What could go wrong?
Getting trapped in your apartment with your boss, that's what.
Season 1 re-imagined if Jon and Martin had been trapped by Jane Prentiss together.
Initially I recommended this back when we had hit MAG039/022 because it was a great AU to Martin’s Statement where Jon also gets trapped in Martin’s apartment during Martin’s no good very bad 2 weeks of worm siege. HOWEVER, the author has since continued this series and is slowly working their way through canon one season/fic at a time. They’re currently on S3, and I am definitely keeping an eye on it for whenever the next update happens. If you haven’t had the time to check it out, it’s got some very good JMart moments, and their relationship manages to move faster than a glacier.
Fate, or Something by HermaeusMora
"You can't be serious." Jonathan Sims raises his eyes at last to properly look at Georgie, expecting her to laugh and make some quip about finally getting him to put the damn book down, at least.
"Well, I am," she shoots back.
He sets his book aside and turns fully towards her, betrayal clear on his face. "A blind date, really?"
Jon makes the frankly terrible decision to go on a blind date with one Martin Blackwood. Fate ensues. AU where Jon and Georgie are still friends, Georgie likes finding dates for her friends, Martin doesn't work at the institute, and everyone is just a bit happier while canon spooky stuff goes on in the background. Takes place juuust barely pre-canon in the beginning but catches up quickly. Inspired as usual by the wonderful conversations with my friend RavenXavier/somuchbetterthanthat.
A fun AU that challenges the idea that Jon and Martin are incompatible a la MAG199. Excellently done and well worth the time to check it out.
Diary by luftballoons99
Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.
or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.
A bit of a bittersweet mostly fluff oneshot focused on Jon and Martin having a night in at the Safehouse and talking about good things from their pasts. (Warning, the sequel is rated E(xplicit) for a reason, so I am only recommending Diary. Both are stand alone however.)
Weaving My Heartstrings by arms_full_of_hyacinths
At least he was someone. Someone who could deal with the spiders. That was probably the source of the nerves unspooling like magnetic tape to fill Jon’s stomach with buzzing static butterflies.
Yes, Martin was much bigger than a spider. He was probably the kind of person who cupped them in his hands and talked to them as he walked them out into the garden, which shouldn’t be giving Jon a burst of warm feeling at all, since his preferred method of spider disposal was simply to squash them on sight.
Martin likes Jon almost as much as Jon hates spiders. When a statement from an institute employee sends them spiraling into the center of a complicated web, they'll need to rely on each other if they want to make it out alive.
Bit of an odd suggestion to close us out, but this one is a fun almost episodic plot about an original Statement and the shenanigans Jon and Martin get into trying to research it. It’s very good, features some very on point S1 Jon and Martin along with a bit of a fast forward on their relationship throughout.
And with that, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome lol. I hope you found something new to read! If not, I at least hope that you had fun rereading some old faves. This has taken me a day or two to compile and format, so I hope you all enjoy in whatever capacity that ends up being! Happy end of A Mag A Day, and it was a joy walking alongside you all. Congrats to A MAG A Day blog owners on all your hard work for the last ~210 days and with this post I wish you all a very fond farewell.
#a mag a day#the magnus archives#mag 200#tma fic rec#fic rec#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jonmartin#jmart#georgie#melanie
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TMA - Chapters 1-10: The beginning and everything I didn’t expect to see
Hello, everyone.
As promised, here is the first post with my impressions regarding chapters 1-10.
Let’s not waste too much time here: there is a lot to say and I’ll leave my final impression for the end of this post. For now, let's start.
<< Main masterlist
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MAG 1: Angler Fish
Well, that’s not what I expected.
So this series doesn't have a continuative plot, but it’s rather a “monster-of-the-week” situation. However, I don’t think it will be just like that: I’m quite sure a plot will come in the future. But since it’s not coming for now, I think the option I chose (i.e. commenting this series 10 chapters at a time) is perfect. This way, I can easily keep track of my favorite statements!
I also appreciate the small introduction. So we have a place: the Magnus Institute. I suppose this is the “library” I vaguely remembered. And we also have a person: Jonathan Sims, our maybe-protagonist. And we have Martin too! And Sasha and Tim! I have no idea who they are, but I’m looking forward to knowing them.
All I got for now, is that Jonathan (who I will surely call Jon from now on, because his name is too long) is kind of a skeptic. Clichè, but I accept it: this is a horror/supernatural series, so he will probably change his mind when he will face the real shit.
And speaking of the genre, glad to know that this story is horror/supernatural. I’m not a huge fan of horror, but I like to be surprised/scared/creeped out in creative ways.
And this first statement… fails to do that. Sorry to say that, but the story is kinda meh. The supernatural element is just here and it’s not very scary. Fine, the mysterious figure is probably just the bait of a supernatural shit we don’t see, but it’s weak. And the association with the anglerfish isn’t enough to creep me, nor creative enough to surprise me.
I hope the next statement will be better.
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MAG 2: Do Not Open
Yep, that’s much more interesting.
I like that the wooden coffin doesn’t do anything you might expect from a coffin in a supernatural story. The scratching was still kind of clichè, but I didn’t expect the singing in the rain. Or the “dream possession” or whatever it was that weird power that tried to trick Mr. Gillespie into opening the coffin.
It was also kinda funny to follow his misadventures in dealing with it. And understandable too: my man doesn’t want to open the weird coffin, so he will do everything to not open the weird coffin.
Honestly, same: I am a wimp and if someone delivered some weird shit in my place, I wouldn’t be so stupid to go face-first into it. Curiosity might be strong, but my will to live is stronger.
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MAG 3 - Across The Street
That’s another interesting statement.
First, you think it will be about Graham and his journals, then there’s the weird hypnotic table with the missing piece, then Not-Graham. There are a lot of things here and they’re all creepy and interesting and I want to know more about them. Could there be a follow-up to this story? Or, at least, to its mysteries? It would be very cool to read another story and find the missing piece of that table. Or one of Graham’s journals. Or to see Not-Graham again. It would be fun. I hope there are follow-ups.
About the supernatural stuff: I couldn’t really understand what the arm-y thing-y was, so it wasn’t exactly scary, but more… bizarre? And a bit meh. It was just a black arm-y thing-y after all.
What really crept me out was Not-Graham casually saying: “Hey Amy, we live so close to each other, what a weird coincidence! Maybe I’ll pay you a visit.”. THAT was creepy as fuck and I loved it.
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MAG 4 - Page Turner
I vaguely remember the name Leitner, so I have high hopes we will see more of his books in the future. After all, this statement looks more like an introduction to him and his books, rather than a self-contained story about Random Weird Thing no. 247.
Maybe we won’t see Ex Altiora anymore, but other books… why not? Also, Jonathan knows about Leitner and asked to search more of his books, so maybe we will see more of them.
By itself, the story is good at introducing the weirdness of these books through the equally weird figure of the Keays. I feel there’s still a lot to find out about Mary Keay’s murder, her existence, her place and her connection with Sanskrit. I want to know more about her.
And I want to know more about Gerard Keay too. Will we see him again in the future? I hope so: I feel like he has still a lot to say.
I also noticed a guy named Michael. Will we see more of him too? Is he the same Michael I’ve heard about? Or is there another Michael? Can’t wait to find out.
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MAG 5 - Thrown Away
I don’t think this statement is creepy, but rather, a great example of weird.
There is nothing truly scary here, only weird. And I love this kind of weird. Every new trash bag is a surprise and the surprises are not gore-y, bloody, or clichè with the sole purpose of shocking you. The stuff inside is harmless, just… immensely weird: a long paper strip covered with the Our Father prayer, a huge bag full of teeth that are all of the same tooth… that’s not dangerous stuff, just weird. Unexpected. And, therefore, very cool.
The metal heart was a great choice too: just like all other findings is not disgusting nor gore-y, but it serves its purpose perfectly. You look at it and you know Alan is dead. I love it when creativity is used so well.
I also noticed there is another Michael here. Is he the same Michael mentioned in the previous story? Or another Michael? How many Michaels are in this series? XD
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MAG 6 - Squirm
Another meh statement: a mysterious girl is feeling very sick, then she basically explodes into worms. Kind of a backlash, going from the delicious, subtle weird of the previous story to the disgusting stuff of this one.
However, I can understand Mr. Hodge: if my room was packed with worms, I would’ve burned the whole house down too.
Also, it looks like Jon knows this woman in red. Will we see Jane Prentiss again? Or more of her victims? No, of course I don’t want your answers: the series will tell me ;)
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MAG 7 - The Piper
A simple war tale, starring a supernatural element, the Piper. I don’t find it particularly scary, but rather a melancholic figure. Sure, it’s a bit eerie and mysterious, but not particularly interesting - not for me, at least.
The story isn’t particularly captivating either. It’s just here and it screams “filler”. Or maybe not? After all, Jon remembers the name Joseph Rayner, so we will see another story featuring this guy?
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MAG 8 - Burned Out
There’s a lot of stuff here - maybe even too much. First, Mr. Lensik’s father and fractals and math and the mysterious guy with “all the bones in his hands”. Then Mr. Raymond Fielding and Agnes, the disappeared kid, the missing hand, the tree, the green apple with spiders… woah, woah, slow down! What are all these things? Should I remember all of them? Are they all important? I feel like I already forgot something while writing them down!
Honestly, this huge number of peculiar elements is very distracting, because it gets all of the reader’s attention and takes it away from the story itself. A story that, if we reduce it to basics, what’s truly about? A man meets a ghost and pulls down a tree. Not exactly the most exciting thing ever.
Now, I’m not saying that a story with multiple digressions is bad. It just needs an extremely good writer and A LOT of time and space to properly develop everything, because it would be too easy to “forget” the story and get lost into all the digressions.
So, considering these statements are all short, I would rather avoid too many elements and keep them as simple as possible, focusing more on the story itself and adding just one or two recurring elements.
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MAG 9 - A Father’s Love
Another meh story. Some elements are interesting, like the necklace with the hand and closed eye related to the Church of the Divine Host and the mysterious something that blows out every lightbulb. But yeah, from the moment it was mentioned that the father had a shed, I knew he was doing some supernatural circle/prayer/whatever.
A simple story, but nothing truly amazing about it.
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MAG 10 - Vampire Killer
Seriously, every time there is a meh statement, a great one follows up. And if it’s not great, it’s extremely interesting. Or, like in this case, it’s surprising.
I mean, a statement titled “Vampire Killer”? I expected the same old tale about seductive vampires burning out in the sunlight.
But nope, this story offered a new vision of vampires. Even better, it did it by putting these details into the story, in a great example of show don’t tell.
I really like that the vampires' characteristics are so… bestial. Shark-like teeth, a leech’s tongue and no ability to talk: it’s new, it’s cool, it’s interesting and I would love to see fanarts of them (once I’ll finish the whole series).
I also appreciate that they burn like crisps, because without blood (i.e. a liquid), they dry out: so, not only it justifies why they drink blood and not eat solid food, but also why they burn so easily. It’s cool, it’s logical, it’s creative: I love it.
Oh-oh, am I also noticing a small hint of doubt in Jon’s words? Is he starting to think these statements are not just silly stories made by insane people/mythomaniacs? Didn’t expect him to start so soon, but I suppose a lot of things will happen in the near future and he needs the right state of mind to face them.
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In conclusion
My first overall impression is positive: this series looks promising and I want to read more statements. Sure, my impression is based on 10 chapters out of 200 (so basically nothing) and on all the assumptions I made while reading. I don’t know if there will be a continuative plot, I don’t know if the characters of these stories will return and I don’t know if something huge will come in the future. I am just assuming these things, based on my experience as an “art-forms-enjoyer”.
I just hope I am right and that, while being right about these things, the series itself will keep surprising me with creative ideas. I would be very sad if my assumptions were correct, but the quality of the statements gets worse and worse. Please, keep being creative! More surprising stories and less “meh” stuff!
That’s all for now. I’ll come back very soon with the next post about chapters 11-20.
>> Next post
(How about a coffee? ☕)
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TAGLIST:
@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl@allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia@whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24 @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue @cynicalandsarcastic @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire
@riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan @arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads
@dracayd-universe @starlightnyx @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing
@thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @coldbookworm @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist
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I have an immense debt with I Don't Hate The Gravity. It's still my favorite fic that I've written, and as far and Johann and Avi's relationship, I think I did a pretty good job. I also tried a lot of new things that ended up becoming staples of my writing (for how little I write nowadays), and I'm very happy that people to this day still see traces of it over my work, and viceversa.
HOWEVER.
Bitch, I put so many fucking easter eggs in that fic that I never ended up addressing.
TL;DR: Gravity is now a series. I'm writing a sequel and spin-offs. Yay!
Spoilers for all of Gravity, obviously.
1. Magnus, Lucretia and the Voidfish.
This one is probably the less affected, I think knowing about their relationship and seeing it in snippets throught Gravity does a good job conveying the secret nature of their relationship, both from the point of view of a third party (who will never get to know the depths of someone else's life just from standing next to them) to the actual plot reason Magnus and Lucretia had to be quiet about it. On top of that, they both had their own personal character arcs that didn't rely on the relationship, which is something I'm very proud of.
That said, I did put a lot of effort into developing their backstory, and even if I summarized it quickly and consistently during Chapter 4, when Johann finds out Magnus' connection to the Voidfish, the way I wrote it was meant to be, I'm not sure you guys picked up, spin-off bait. I totally meant to write a little oneshot of their Voidfish heist.
2. Sweet Flips
Again, there really wouldn't be much to say. They are an stablished couple with their own life. They have (what I hope is) good rapport and are a nice resting point for the narrative when all the other relationships in this fic start getting dramatic.
Except:
"(...) Just because you didn’t PDA back then or even now doesn’t mean it wasn’t obvious to everyone you had it for each other.” “Everyone but us?” “Everyone but you, yep.” “Now you know how we felt in first year,” Avi muttered. Carey started sparkling. “That was different. I actually hated Killian’s guts.” “Yeah, you sure did.”
"Wow, Shi! That sounds like there's a story there! Are you gonna write it?" Well, sure! That's literally why I put that specific conversation there!
3. Taako, from TV?
This is the worst one imho, because unlike the other two where we kinda know what happened and how it ended. Taako's whole TV crisis thing was mentioned ONCE and then never brought up again. I was talking to @crystallizedkingdoms the other day about the Gravity spin-offs I never wrote and they told me they just assumed Taako had poisoned a bunch of people again, which is totally not the case. I planned an entire saga for him about his adventures as the only teenage contestant in a very famous and widely televised cooking show, which ended in betrayal and international embarrassement, and the consequences of putting popularity over those you love.
BUT YOU WOULDN'T KNOW BECAUSE I NEVER FUCKING WROTE IT.
The problem with these three stories isn't that I didn't write them. Everyone in school (at least the named characters) has their own thing going, it's part of the main message I wanted to write with Gravity, that everyone is the protagonist of their own life, even those who don't seem to have much going on, be it because you really can't tell the high stakes everyone is going through, or simply because what might be a nothing burger to you might feel like the end of the world to someone else. Realistically I could've never written every single backstory for every single character. The problem is I actively referenced and, again, baited with these three stories.
Well, I'm here to atone for my sins.
Gravity, the series, has officially launched as The Laws of the Universe, a series of fics centred around Gravity, the fic, exploring the lives of the teenage characters in more Astronomy metaphors.
As a reward for reading this far, and because I really need to be held accountable for this shit, you get to see the titles before anyone else. In no particular order of posting:
Pluto Is Not A Planet (Sweet Flips origin story)
And Then Copernicus Came And Ruined Everything (Taako backstory)
[TITLE TBD] (Magcretia+Voidfish backstory)
All of these are working titles and thus subject to change. As you may have guessed, each title references something related to astronomy, which in turn references the main struggle of the characters in the stories. I also wanted to keep up with the negative sentence structure (I Don't Hate The Gravity, Pluto Is Not A Planet) but found out it didn't work with what I had planed for the sequel, so that has been scrapped.
So, what is up with that sequel?
I need a new post to talk about that, but the most important thoughts have already been written in the notes of that fic. So, to quote myself:
This is a story that's been five years in the making. Some of the themes were originally part of Gravity, but I ended up cutting them out of... cowardice, basically. The thing is, Gravity was always meant to be a more """""realistic"""" take on a High School romcom, and the absence of these themes is not realistic.
I know what you're thinking. Let's talk about it in another post.
Thank you for reading, and see you in future updates!
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So like. I tried getting all of my family into Percy Jackson, right?
My mum and brother have read most of the books we have, execpt for Kane chronicles and Magnus chase, so I’d say it went pretty successful on that part.
But my dad. My definitely smart dad as he is a mechanic. Started with the third book???? For some reason?? And he never finished it, he just put it on the telephone cabinet where it still is, year later. And he refuses to accept that he would do that, but the first book didn’t leave my shelf until I moved all the pjo books (execpt book three) into a new book box
Anyways, we’re gonna watch the series as a family
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The absence a brother leaves.
Worm 19.07/The Magnus Archives 104.
IMAGE IDs: A series of screenshots from Worm and from the Magnus Archives transcripts.
The first, from Worm, reads: “Rex,” Tattletale said. “Hm?” “His name was Reggie, but he got into sports in high school. They started calling him Rex, until everyone used the name. I don’t mean this to be insulting, but you were kind of opposites in a lot of ways. He was this popular guy, charming.” “Your boyfriend?” She laughed, a short sound. “My brother.”
The second, from The Magnus Archives, reads: My little brother Danny, he was always better than me. He was a couple of years younger, but by the time he hit 21 he was already taller, fitter, better looking. I mean, he didn’t have my winning sense of humour, but he didn’t need it. Charisma, it wasn’t a problem for him. I think a lot of people in my situation would have been… jealous, but not me. I was just proud of him. He was always doing some, some charity race or endurance course, getting modelling gigs, while I worked quietly away in publishing. And it made me smile.
The third, from Worm reads: She gave me a funny look, but she didn’t call me on it. “It gets to this point where, you know, your cool older brother only spends time with you because it’s his duty as a sibling. And when you realize that, it sort of hurts. Makes it insulting. I think I caught on to that around the time I started high school. I stopped accepting those token offers of siblinghood. We were brother and sister, we lived in the same house, went to the same school. Our paths crossed, but we didn’t interact. We were strangers. He was caught up being the popular senior, and I kind of resented him for it.” “For not being a brother?” Lisa shrugged. “Don’t know. More for acting like a brother than not being a real brother. For being the popular kid, being the favorite child, heir to the family businesses.” The fourth, from the Magnus Archives, reads: It was all kind of surreal, strange, and I started to think I might be dreaming, but I’d never seen him cry before. I tried to talk to him, find out what was wrong, but he just kept shaking his head. We sat there in silence for a long time. I didn’t know what to do; the whole situation was so alien. I thought maybe I could try and get him some rest, let him collect himself, so after some coaxing, I got him onto the couch. As he laid down, I heard him say something else. I thought it sounded like “the show must go on”, and at that moment, you know, I actually thought that was a good sign. I watched for a few more minutes until he was asleep, and then I went back to bed, though it was a while before I fell back to sleep. The fifth, from Worm, reads: “What happened? “I started noticing, he was in rough shape. The smiles seemed fake, he’d get angry easier. Was bottling something up inside.” “What was it?” Lisa shrugged. “I’ve dwelled on it so long I’ve imagined possibilities and derailed my train of thought. Even with my power, I can’t guess.” “And something happened?” “He slowly got more and more distant. He’d fake more smiles, get a little more angry, a little more reckless. And then one day he offed himself.”
The sixth, from The Magnus Archives, reads:
MARTIN That was the last time you ever saw your brother? TIM Yeah. MARTIN You never went back? TIM To the auditorium? No. If I had, I… I don’t think they’d let me leave a second time. MARTIN That’s why you joined the Institute, isn’t it? TIM I thought I might be able to find something about what happened, but… I guess at some point I stopped seriously looking, and started to just… get comfortable.
The seventh and final image, from Worm, reads:
Lisa shrugged. “I was already seeing too much ugly, even before the powers. Seeing more of it? Seeing when people were being fake, when everything else was still screwy because of Rex’s suicide? It was too much. I took more money than I should have from my parents and I ran.” “And Coil eventually found you.” She nodded. “And I eventually found you. I took one look at you, and I had a grasp of what was going on. Didn’t take too long for me to notice that you had that same air around you that Rex did. Maybe I did what I could to save you because I couldn’t save him.”
END IDs.
#tw suicide#web weaving#worm#tma#the magnus archives#web weave#webweaving#webweave#parahumans#wormblr#lisa wilbourn#tim stoker
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Man I Love Frogs
It's @taznovembercelebration day 21 - we're still hanging in there! Today's prompt cards were: "familiar" and "problem". You can read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday? Find it here!
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“Hello Taako.” Kravitz inclines his head and tries his best not to smile. “Do you have some comments about my paper?”
“Whaddya know, my man, I do!” Taako smiles like he’s trying to power a city with it.
Kravitz does his best not to stare, he always does his best not to stare. He fails, he always fails. It’s not his fault though! Taako’s bright and handsome and after the drunken squat off at the first conference dinner Kravitz knows exactly how toned his arse is. He checks in regularly, just to make sure it’s still the same. It is. It’s for research though, time series analysis. Anal-ysis. No, terrible. Bad! He cannot afford to think dirty thoughts or awful puns. Taako knew his shit, Kravitz had to be on top of this.
The academic comment wrestling shouldn’t be so hot, but Taako doesn’t come up to him in the usual way, the patronising ‘I’m here to talk about myself and your paper is just a mouthpiece for me to do it, in fact, this is only tangentially related’ way. Taako’s comments are actually helpful, insightful even! Plus, plus, he backs down when he’s wrong (although he does it quietly, but Kravitz can’t blame him for that.)
“Taako appreciated the way your big smart guy brain got round the translation limitations on the application sigil.”
Oh. That… was unexpected. This isn’t the usual pattern. By now Taako should be telling him about a hole in his logic or something he could have referenced but missed. He wasn’t always right, sure, but regardless of what he was saying and how right it was, he never started off with compliments.
Taako steps closer, lays an earnest hand on Kravitz’s forearm. “I’m just a simple idiot wizard, but even cha’boy can appreciate a…” Taako pauses and looks straight into Kravitz’s soul. “...solid combination.”
Taako has something in his eye, he finishes speaking and closes just one. He doesn’t seem to rub it after so, so maybe it’s not that serious. Kravitz wants to ask if he’s okay, but he probably shouldn’t make a big deal of it.
“Yes.” Says Kravitz, smartly, wittily, good at social interaction-ly, instead of fussing.
“There’s a certain combination that Taako wanted to talk to you about, kemosabe.”
Taako looks at Kravitz like he’s supposed to say something here, like he hasn’t just stopped talking part way through a sentence.
“Okay?”
Taako doesn’t seem to be perturbed by Kravitz’s conversational mastery, thank the lady. He just powers on regardless.
“See, we’re both geniuses, you and I.”
Huh. Kravitz knows that Taako’s a genius, it’s undeniable when you look at the research he’s involved in. All the bonds stuff is fascinating - especially the impact of food on the strength. Kravitz still feels sorry for Magnus and the month Taako only made food he hated to see if it changed their bonds. He also felt sorry for whatever ethics committee Taako bullied that approach through, he’d love to see the paperwork.
Taako (thankfully) doesn’t wait for a response, which is good, because Kravitz doesn’t have one.
“... and I think it’d be a good idea for us to get closer. You know, really tackle some important questions on bonds, if you know what I mean?”
Kravitz did know what he meant! He didn’t think it would ever happen. He’d hoped, sure, but to actually be experiencing it? He’s going to burst, his Mums are going to be so excited! They’d told him to believe, that he could do anything, but this seemed so impossible, so implausible!
“You want me to join the bonds research team? Yes! Yes I’d love that! Taako, thank you so much! Oh gods! This is incredible!” Kravitz tries to keep the excitement out of his voice, he really does, but it’s impossible. He knows that there’s a giant smile plastered across his face and his hands are flipping at his sides. Taako’s not going to think it’s professional, but Taako’s wearing cowboy boots with flame decals (which Kravitz would bet any money he stole from Lup) at a conference so who’s he to judge?
“Er…” Taako pauses. Taako pauses too long. Shit. Fuck. What else could he have meant? “Yeah. That’s exactly what cha’boy was asking you, Kravster. Lemme just… er… I’m just going to text the gang and let them know how excited you are, you know, to join us.” He grabs his phone and smiles at Kravitz as he backs away. “They’re all going to be excited too.” Taako says, from his corner, before turning away and frantically typing.
Kravitz waits happily, he’s riding the joyous wave still, hands locked in the inevitable tide of it swirling by his sides, riding currents which existed only in his mind.
“Hey.” Taako appears by his side.
“Hello!”
“So, I think it would be helpful to talk about over dinner. Taako’s treat. You can tell me about how frogs fit into bonds and I can tell you about not-science.”
Kravitz would very much love to hear about not-science as long as it relates to Taako. Oh… shit.
“Will you need to measure our bond?” Maybe it will just register overall, it doesn’t need to show anyone’s individual feelings, surely?
“I’d certainly like to get the measure of it.” Taako says and links his arm with Kravitz’s, leading him out of the lobby. Kravitz looks back towards the ballroom, but Taako tugs him away from the hotel. “We’re not going to the conference meal, it’s a million quid and there’s a disco.”
“I would have thought you’d like to dance.” Kravitz says absently. He knows it’s supposed to be about work, but Taako’s his new colleague, it’s important to get to know each other.
“Taako loves to dance. Taako does not do conference dancing. I’d eat it up. Obviously. But it wouldn’t be fair to anyone else who came. They’d be distraught, they’d never dance again.”
“Oh no. You’ll definitely have to demonstrate for me though. I’m ready to be impressed.”
Taako shimmies next to him. “Don’t tempt me, handsome.”
Handsome? Taako called him handsome! Kravitz doesn’t care if it’s an objective colleague assessment, Taako said it, Kravitz heard the words come out of his beautiful mouth and there’s no take backsies.
“Okay.” Kravitz says happily. “I might later though.” If they go and dance after dinner he’ll get so much time with Taako!
“Cha’boy is amenable to some late night temptation with you.”
“Great! I’m in!” Says Kravitz happily. Maybe they can dance together wherever they end up?
He looks down at their looped arms and smiles. To think he nearly missed this conference, a new colleague, a new project! He can’t wait to get started on the new research.
“Anyway.” Says Taako. “... about the frogs? Don’t worry about the phone, I’m just taking some notes.”
-
I hope you enjoyed! Wanna read more? Here's the next prompt!
#Kravitz makes a very compelling argument for the frog bonds link - even Lucretia's sold by the end of it#Taako knew exactly what he was doing the whole time#taz nc#taz november celebration#Noodyl Writes
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What the Autobots learned from the humans
The humans weren’t the only ones who learned from the experience. The Autobots learned as well. There are spoliers for Transformers Prime, especially key episodes so if you haven’t seen it, you may want to miss this one.
Optimus
- The most obvious is the concept of family as he told Ultra Magnus. The humans don’t act like the Autobots, sure the Bots banter from time to time, but I doubt that Optimus had the same experience with silliness or kids just being kids. I think this would help him relax and remember what they are fighting for, not just the next part of the fight.
Ratchet
- He saw humans as “Less then” before. With his experience with the humans, he had to take the time to know them as individuals and soon saw them as friends and watched them grow. Perhaps if he ever was on another planet, he would remember that other species have their own strengths as well and be less dismissive.
Arcee
- She learned how to let people in. Not just Jack, but also Miko and Wheeljack. With Miko, Arcee was honest about her struggle with what happened to Cliffjumper and allowed herself to be vulnerable, which she likely wouldn’t have done earlier in the series. In season 3, she advised Wheeljack not to block people out, explaining she learned from experience. I the first episode, she didn’t talk to the others about how she felt, she went for a drive alone. Now she may be more likely to admit if something is bothering her.
Bumblebee
- Even with the other cybertronians being able to understand him, Bumblebee didn’t speak up for himself. This is shown by when Arcee decided to go “on patrol” (it was clear she just didn’t want to deal with the humans), Bee went with her when Arcee told him to, though how he shown interest in being teamed up with Raf, he may not have wanted to leave nor did he question the rule. He also didn’t seem to think he was ready to be a warrior even when Optimus did so by how he was talking to Raf. In the end of the series, he directly confronted Megatron, landing the winning blow.
Bulkhead
- He seemed to struggle with his place on the team, telling Miko that Optimus never picks him to be in charge and the fact he apologized for bringing Miko despite the fact she snuck onto the mission and seemed worried when Miko stood up for him. With him politely arguing with Ultra Magnus about Miko’s involvement in the Wreckers, it shows that he learned to say what he believes.
Smokescreen
- At first, he saw the mission as a dream come true and had an idolized idea of the battle. He took reckless actions, believing it would work out naturally. Even though his line to Arcee, “Humans squish easily, I know that now.” sounds dismissive, it shows that he is realizing that the battle isn’t going to work out just because they’re right. He also shows this by deciding to save Optimus instead of being a Prime. He doesn’t tell the others about the choice until a long time later (and it’s not done as a form of bragging). He learned to take the mission seriously.
Ultra Magnus
- He learned how to adapt to a more family based team dynamic. Earlier on, he tried to force the other members of Team Prime to fit into the idea of what the groups on Cybertron were like. This was not working with the team. By spending time with the humans and the other members of Team Prime, he learned to relax. Yes, he was till very formal, but as shown by reacting with confusion but not annoyance when Fowler told them to bring their kilts, it shows he relaxed in his expectations. This also shows by how he admitted that it was good that Wheeljack brought Miko even though at first he didn’t like her coming and seemed to see humans as these weird species that don’t know the chain of command, now he sees the humans play an important role.
#transformers#tfp#transformers prime#maccadam#optimus prime#bulkhead#bumblebee#ratchet#arcee#smokescreen#ultra magnus#observation
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Here Comes Judgement Day Pt.3
A few years ago, I attempted to draw a fan comic to resolve the ambiguous ending of the MTMTE/LL Comic series. I managed to complete one panel, but lost the other three when my computer crashed.
Now, after some time has passed, I feel encouraged to try again. This time, I've written a multi-part story to better guide my comic.
It's worth noting that when I began this project, I was feeling edgy, so it's all based on the song posted below
A Summary:
Megatron faces his impending execution in Garrus 9. As he reflects on his fate, Ultra Magnus grapples with his role as a witness. Through introspection and discussions with Rodimus, Ultra Magnus ultimately decides to attend the execution as Minimus Ambus, embracing his true self and honouring Megatron's last request. Tensions mount as the time draws near, with Rodimus struggling to cope as Megatron's death approaches. WARNING: Major Character Death
"Debts Are Due, It's Time to Pay"
The camera drones felt as if they were venting down his intake. The hovering hum of the drones buzzing around his restrained helm made him dizzy. He tried to focus on the window of the witness viewing room, attempting to see past his own reflection. Council bots and their alien allies had begun to file in once the bells sounded. Their expressions were professionally neutral. Amidst the sea of blue optics, he sensed their excitement at seeing him in this state, well-contained. He looked further, scanning the lower portion of the room for pinpricks of red other than his own, searching for Minimus.
Legally, Ultra Magnus would have the right to attend as a live witness, being his legal representative throughout the trial and sentencing. He had heard rumors that the council had honored this law from the unprofessional murmuring of guards while he awaited execution in his cell. Though it would be a comfort to see Ultra Magnus, Megatron hoped for Minimus Ambus to step up to the glass for a solemn goodbye.
He knew he was punching above his weight in his final request to Minimus. The fact that he had Magnus’s legal representation at all was an undeserved blessing, and he should have left it at that. However, his passing would feel incomplete if he died knowing his friend continued to live hiding behind that blasted mask of Tyrest.
‘Friend,’ he thought, settling his helm back against the berth, pointedly avoiding looking directly into the cameras. He didn’t have many friends left. Never really had many in the first place, not one overly fond of attachments, and it shows with 99.99% of the known galaxy celebrating behind those cameras. He was aware of at least one mech in mourning and he sincerely hoped Rodimus wasn’t watching the live feed. In truth, it was the most prominent reason he avoided looking at the drones. Drift wouldn’t let him, he hoped, but deep down he knew not even he, with all his strength and intimidation, could force Rodimus from doing what Rodimus wanted to do.
He never intended to get the young captain attached; he didn’t think he could. With all that kid's brash ignorance and selfishness, deliberately endangering the crew for the ‘wow’ factor had Megatron certain his processor would implode before he ever respected that bot as an equal. But now, Megatron held Rodimus in higher regard than any Cybertronian alive. ‘The approval from the universe's most hated mech likely wouldn’t get Rodimus far,’ he thought, ‘But it certainly meant a lot too Rodimus’. He wanted to smirk but not in front of his audience, so he keep his emotions in check; the universe could see the slightest change of his spark pulse.
A galactic council orator had moved into view, preparing for his speech to address the witnesses and multitude of gathered drones. He didn’t see Magnus in the stands. He was entering his last kliks now and was struggling to suppress his growing desperation. Evac’s demeanor had become cold and calculating once the cameras began to transmit, removing her comforting servo from his chassis and keeping her optics glued to the medical monitor. He understood her nonpartisan shift, taking no offense to it; she obviously had a reputation to protect. Still, he felt as though he should acknowledge her kindness, before he missed his chance.
“Evac…” his lips barely moving, attempting to be subtle so viewers wouldn’t know he was addressing her. He knew it would be missed with attention on the speaker of the Council. She didn’t respond with words or a touch, but he knew she would be listening. “…Thank you,” he whispered.
As he expected, it was followed by silence. After a moment, he could hear her shuffle slightly, moving from her seated position behind him. Her peds touched the floor and she rounded the corner on his left side, grabbing his wrist and jostling the cable as she began to uncoil it. Her other servo slipped subtly into his. It surprised Megatron, but he kept his optics forward.
"*You are welcome,*" she responded through chirolinguistics. "* I am under oath and cannot remain as a witness. This will be the last time you will see me.*"
Her servo slipped from his quickly as she finished unspooling the wire, handing the loose end off to another bot hidden in the corner. Turning, the medi-bot nodded curtly before making her swift exit. He was alone now, and very aware of the menacing presence lumbering in his neural net. The jack burned his circuits with every movement. Thankfully, there was enough remnants of sedation to take the edge off. But not enough sedation to block out the isolation. His optics drifted back to focus on the window, slowly coming to terms with the fact that Magnus – Minimus- would not be coming. He didn’t feel a sense of betrayal as he thought he might, he only felt cold nothingness and a reminder that no one owed him anything.
“Today we stand together as witnesses of a justice long anticipated by billions. Together, Cybertronians, colony worlds and allies of the galactic council shall close the book on the darkest stain of our past and move towards a brighter future.”
Megatron rolled his optics. They should have let him write his own send-off, lest it actually be memorable.
---
“-our past and move towards a brighter future.” The voice of the orator was muffled behind the metal door. Minimus all but hurled himself at it, not caring for the potential interruption it may have caused. He was showing up five kliks late to the most significant event of modern Cybertronian history, and he was showing up naked and bloodied. Reputation be damned to the pits. The door spilled open faster than he had anticipated, stumbling messily into the crowded room of towering mechs, who turned in unison to stare. Bewildered. There was a quick, confused pause from the orator, but with practiced professionalism, he continued with his pretentious sermon.
The confused stares continued as his identity was clearly being questioned. Cowering slightly at the foreign feeling of being looked down upon, he almost felt the need to explain himself.
Almost.
His timid blemished faceplates hardened with resolve, and with a venting huff of vigor, Minimus stood to his full height, marching forward. No one needed to know who he was, the door opened for him, that would be enough. Let the council mechs piece it together in their own time.
“Pardon” He pushed between the legs and drapes of bots who didn’t step out of his way, and he did so without apology, determined to make it to the front.
“Megatron of Tarn, founder of the Decepticon movement, terrorist instigator of the manual class uprising, Warlord of the Cybertronian civil conflict, and genocidal tyrant responsible for the deaths of trillions: cybernetic and organic…”
Minimus could see the window through a forest of legs and armor plating. Panicking, he began to run with helm low and arms bracing, dozing and squeezing his way desperately past bots now. He managed to push through into the front row, stumbling out of the frontlines and jumping up to the window like a sparkling, he pull himself into view. 'I’m here!' he reassured in his head. 'I’m—' He locked optics on Megatron through the window, and his determined expression dropped in an instant as his spark’s adrenaline was replaced with dread.
Time slowed with shock as his optics wandered over Megatron, frame bound and exposed in such vulnerability it made his bruised tank churn in sympathy. Megatron was a mech who let few near him, let alone witness a hint of weakness. The dim lighting of the chamber emphasized his open spark chamber, pectoralis plating removed and casing pried open with what Minimus could only assume were override codes. The low pulsing hum of medical monitors displaying Megatron’s vitals echoed ominously. It was ironic in a way, the mech who broke away from his chains now gets to die in them. Minimus’s spark felt heavy in his chest in solidarity. He hoped Rodimus wasn’t seeing this, it would be too much.
Megatron’s spark was sea-green, like his own, and it pulsed at a steady practiced pace, displaying a disturbing lack of anxiousness for a mech on their deathbed. Megatron was a bravery bot, detrimentally so, but Minimus could tell this was a sedated calmness. The Ex-warlord could hold his composure in intense situations, but never in vulnerable ones. He dragged his optics back to Megatron’s face. He was smiling brightly. Stupidly so, dentae exposed and all. His optics burning with reassurance and deep gratitude. It was contagious, Minimus’s own lips pulled up at the corners but his optics failed to follow suit. How dare he make Megatron comfort him right now.
Time resumed abruptly, and the drone of the speech was only a distant noise in the background.
"—For the atrocities committed under your reign of terror, you have been sentenced to death by the Council and people of Cybertron."
---
A disturbance in the witness chamber pulled Megatron back into focus. The slight pause of the oration grabbed his attention as light quickly flashed throughout the room. A door opening? Someone arrived? A ping of hope, he heard his vital monitors speed up slightly. All the bots looked towards the interruption, looking down. He held in a vent as his audience began to shuffle around, some in slight annoyance as they were seemingly pushed aside by a an unseen figure.
Then suddenly, an all too familiar face burst into in the bottom corner of the viewing window. Red optics pierced sharply, unmistakable green face plating contrasted ocean of blue optic tri-colored mecha surrounding him. His little, comical mustache scrunched at the effort of holding himself in view. Megatron couldn’t control his relief, loosing composure as an uncharacteristic smile split out across worn faceplates.
Minimus Ambus.
They locked optics. Despite his deactivated systems and corrupted senses, Megatron could physically feel Minimus’s shocked horror at the sight. It was not an expression he cared for. ‘It’s okay, Minimus,’ he attempted to project some semblance of soothing reassurance through his stare. But it wasn’t a talent he excelled at. Despite the barriers, it seemed to be communicated. Tension eased slightly from Minimus’s frame as a gentle smile broke out on his lips, optics poorly masking his restrained turmoil. With his optics, Megatron pressed, ‘Don’t mourn for me,’ his smile relaxing to mimic Minimus’s gentle grin. ‘I deserve much, much worse.’
The harsh words of the orator sentencing him to death brought Megatron back to reality. Perhaps smiling through the listing of his charges wasn’t conducive to the image of the ‘changed mech’ he supposedly was, but frag it, it changed nothing now. He would much rather see Minimus smile than save face for the cameras. The cameras…Rodimus.
Megatron shifted his gaze to locate a media drone, twisting his helm to look directly into its lens. Though he hoped Rodimus wasn’t invested in the livestream, he knew better. With a light smirk and a reassuring nod, he saluted to his co-captain—No, his captain. It was an incomplete salute with servos restrained, but he hoped it was the acknowledgment Rodimus needed. A thank you to his friend, as only Primus knows the immense amount of patience and forgiveness Rodimus displayed during their adventures.
“…the appalling nature of your crimes would otherwise revoke the right for last words, lest you use them in martyrdom…” the orator was addressing Megatron directly now, his voice dripping with dramatic menace. “However, with the role you played in the Luna 1 crisis, the orator of your defense swayed the council to generously grant you final words, a privilege which shall be revoked instantly if inappropriate conduct is observed.”
Megatron turned to face the live witnesses. He did not have a planned statement prepared, didn’t think he would need one. He was honestly surprised he was still alive at all. These bots who stood before him wouldn’t care for anything he would have to say, and an apology now would be hollow and meaningless. Why waste his words on a universe no longer listening, only watching, anticipating the next phase? He looked to Minimus. The small bot was still standing in the front row, balancing on the tips of his peds, desperately listening. One of the few bots still listening. One of the only bots left who appreciated his articulate words. He recalled warmly a moment they shared on the Lost Light, during their final toast. He knew exactly what he wanted to say.
“You flare, you flicker, you fade…” He began, voice gentle and laden with finality. He wasn’t addressing the masses. No, this was a personal conversation.
Tears welled up in Minimus’s optics, yet he kept his smile firm as he began to mouth the words alongside Megatron, placing a small servo on the screen of the viewing window and resting his chin on the sill. “Till all your tomorrows become yesterdays…” Megatron’s optics were unwavering, though he did catch the movement in the corner of the room. An unknown medical bot stepped into view, working on the monitor he was connected to. A command code shot past his corrupted firewall, startling him with a hitch of his vents. Suddenly exhausted, he realized he was going into stasis. He wasn’t finished yet!
“Do not yield to broken ways,…” He jolted, shaking his helm, fighting. "That seek to bind us, keep us slaves…"
Minimus’s eyes widened. It was another poem, one famously chanted throughout the streets of all major cities prior to the Deception insurrection. A verse shared by many, which became famously intertwined in both ideologies as the war developed. It was released anonymously, originating from the underground fighting pits of Kaon. Or at least it was thought. It seems that Megatron published anonymous works in several lower caste languages and cities to throw the senate off his scent.
“Till battles are won, till tyrants fall-“ His optics were going offline; he couldn’t control them any longer, but he kept them focused on Minimus as they faded, green faceplates blurring, grey waning in the peripheral. He could feel his intake slowing, slurring. He wasn’t finished yet! The monitor behind his helm hummed slower and slower as his processor slowed. Thoughts were slowing, staggering. He held on desperately to the words he needed to say.
Minimus grew ever more uncomfortable watching him struggle, but he held fast. He made a promise to not look away until the very end. It was the only comfort he could give. He leaned in closer to the screen, helm touching the glass.
A medic could not administer the kill code. The medibot stepped away from the panel, nodding to a blacked figure to take control. This figure, blurred in Megatron’s peripheral, stepped up quickly. A satisfied smile painted their white faceplates, and the contrast was such that Megatron, with stunning clarity, identified his executioner, even with rapidly fading optics.
Prowl.
He was glad it was Prowl. Megatron knows his death will leave a void in the enforcer. He’ll cope by calling it a sense of satisfaction. A sense of closure. But he will feel nothing. Killing always did that, made you struggle for solace.
“Till…All…” He vented hard to get the words out, fans beginning to stall and hydraulics hissing as they decompressed. He lost his visual feed fully, fighting to keep his helm up and facing Minimus.
“Are-“ His voice was a wheeze of static now, losing all of its bite and intensity as his vocalizer began to seize.
“May the well of sparks be merciful.” Prowl growled mockingly. Impatient as always, he hit the kill button, eyes seething and searing as he attempted to steal Megatron’s lasts word. The medic stepped forward, furiously grabbing his wrist and pulling it back, but it was too late. The code had been sent.
Megatron, as far gone as he was into a stasis shutdown, felt it instantly. The medical port searing on his left wrist caused him to recoil, weakly baring his dentae and interrupting his thought. The malicious code harbored in his subsystems exploded outwards, infecting and forcing the shutdown of the remainder of his systems. His helm fell back to the berth in a breathless gasp. The code burned through his neural network; he could hear the whirling whine down of his systems stalling, vitals failing, fuel pump halting, motor relays shot. The Spark monitor was beeping and droning in concern behind his helm. The sound was moving further and further away; distant now. The code was moving to his spark, and that would be it. He had one more word left, one more word. With all the strength and determined stubbornness he could draw on, for all his worth, he fought, he fought harder than he ever did in the mines, the pits, the war. He had always been fighting for his words, fighting by his words, now, He fought with everything for his last word. For Optimus, for Rodimus, and especially for Minimus…
“…One…” he whispered nearly voicelessly. The code reached his spark, and he let go instantly, ready to rest. Everything went dark. Thoughts. Feelings. Conscious. Quick. Painless…Peaceful.
------
The surface of Cybertron was ablaze with thunderous noise and celebration. The magnitude of jumping and prancing in the streets of the great cities shook buildings. Chants, songs, cheers, and whistling filled the air to the near limit of Cybertronian aerospace, registering on satellites and moons. Light shows of fireworks and aerial acrobatics encouraged the excitement and festivities to continue, but not much encouragement was needed. The oil house was no exception, with the cheering so loud and consuming it caused the optical feed to fizzle with the frequency and intensity.
Megatron’s slack faceplates haunted Ratchet more than he cared to admit. He said he wasn’t going to watch, but it was difficult, given the circumstances. It was a clean clinical kill, he rationalized, definitely more than that slag bastard deserved. However, it certainly made it no easier to watch. The monitors continued to display Megatron’s cooled frame like a trophy, and it disappointed the Autobot in the old medic. Bots used to flood to the Koanian pits like this, prancing and cheering over dead mechs. Ratchet shook the thought, no need to stoke his already bitter fire. He had other concerns to manage.
Luckily, the rambunctiousness of the bar distracted from the hunched form of Rodimus at the bar. He was sobbing silently into his servos, his whole body shaking as he struggled to pull in vents. It was grief Ratchet had not seen in a long time, not even when news of Optimus’s death reached Cybertron. He had faith that Rodimus would pull through, that was until Megatron’s smiling goodbye, and now? He wasn’t so sure.
Drift was draped over Rodimus’s frame like a protective blanket, holding him close to his chest. He hummed and shushed soothingly as he rubbed gentle circles down the side of his faceplates like consoling a lost and orphaned sparkling. Ratchet's spark squeezed uncomfortably. He stepped towards them from his shadowy corner of the hall, sensing Drift's need for backup.
Ratchet placed a hand on Rodimus’s shoulder, leaning in slightly to let him know he was there, but he didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say. Instead, he defaulted to medic mode, monitoring Rodimus’s internal temperature and ventilations. A coping mechanism, a nice little remnant from the war. It wasn’t long before Ratchet felt Drift bury his faceplates into the side his neck, optics offline and expression pinched, EM field flared uncomfortably. The medic realized he wasn’t backup for Rodimus anymore. Extending his other arm around Drift's shoulder, he pulled the two speeders close to his chest, resting his chin on the back of Drift's helm. They held that position for quite some time, unseen and forgotten in the midst of the celebration of the planet.
"Minimus," Ratchet pinged urgently over comms. "Wakes happening now, better get a move on…"
The noise was deafening. It reverberated through his body, rattling his plating, rendering it impossible to think. Luckily, he wasn’t thinking at all. The witness room had erupted in celebration, as if they had reached the end of a countdown to a new cycle. The sound was a muffled roar in his audio receptors, with a piercing ring cutting through his helm. He swore he could hear the chanting and hollering all the way planet-side. Minimus made not a sound. The only thing he could do was stare.
And he continued to stare long after Megatron’s spark went out. He watched as the monitors flatlined, and the little color that marked his frame bled away to a cold grey, duller than living sentio metallico. Despite everything, it was a peaceful way to go. Megatron looked peaceful. Like in recharge. The little medibot from before had returned, removing cables and confirming the time of death for the historical records. He appreciated that it was her; no one else seemed to have an ounce of respect. The sound never died down.
Minimus was broken from his trance as movement from the corner of the execution chamber caught his attention. Prowl stepped into clear view, also staring at Megatron’s cold frame. He was smiling, clapping even, though it seemed hollow. Forced. Minimus knew the only satisfaction Prowl could get would be slitting Megatron’s throat cablings. It brought an ounce of joy to the minibot knowing the rogue enforcer had lost that opportunity.
Prowl turned his helm, staring directly at Minimus and clapping harder. It made his optics harden and cool into something deadly. Despair spiraled into an unprofessional rage as his grip tightened on the window sill. Prowl approached the viewing screen, clapping in a taunting rhythm now, almost in beat with the cheering of the room. The enforcer made it to the glass, bending down to meet Minimus at face level, his clap slowing to a halt as his smile faded into a crooked grin.
"The bells aren't ringing in Tarn, I hear," Prowl teased through the glass.
Minimus reared on his peds, fist raising hard and fast with a shout and bared dentae, rage exploding from his core, restraint weakened from grief. He plowed his bunched servo into the screen of the viewing window with a resounding crack, disrupting the room amidst the festivity as the force fields recalibrated with a hum. Witnesses and aliens stared at Minimus in silent, baffled confusion, but he remained focused on Prowl, his optics burning with fury.
His hit left no trace on the screen, designed to withstand even phase sixers' violence. All it accomplished was drawing attention to himself, exactly what Prowl had wanted. Minimus vented hard, fist still resting on the screen as he glared at Prowl's smiling face—a coward.
"I suggest you run and hide there," Prowl threatened before pressing a button, causing the viewing screen to fade to opaque orange, the Autobot insignia spinning in the middle.
Taking a slow step back, Minimus tried to control his vents, his rage simmering beneath the surface. His tunnel vision faded enough to notice the room's eerie quietness, and he touched his olfactory sensor, feeling it bleed again. Embarrassment washed over him as he realized the room's attention was fixated on him. A comm pinged urgently, a notification from Ratchet indicating things were going poorly on the surface. He was needed elsewhere now. Glancing back at Megatron's frame before remembering he was alone, Minimus raised a servo to his forehead, ducking his helm low as he made a speedy breakaway to the door.
"If you would excuse me," he chimed quickly as he left, the party continuing without interruption.
He sprinted down the corridor of the gallows, noticing the distinct lack of bots and guards. Good for them, it made disappearing easier. He needed to get off this prison, away from these cruel bastards. His friends needed him, and he needed them more than ever. He had no intention of returning to the hab suite, Magnus's armor be damned. However, as he approached the corridor, he saw a bot standing outside his assigned unit's door—waiting. It was a small bot, the medibot attending to Megatron personally in the execution chamber. What was she doing out here? A violation, but Minimus couldn't bring himself to care.
"Excuse me! Sir!" She threw her arms up, not in authority, but in a plea for attention, holding a shining object in one servo. "I know this is inappropriate, but please wait."
Minimus halted, arms raised slightly in a defensive posture. Unsure who to trust, he observed the medibot's flustered state, mirroring his own. She extended the object—a Rodimus star, weathered and battered, but unmistakably Megatron's.
“He waited…I noticed you…He-“ She stumbled over words, undecided on how to explain. “I found it in his Sub-space. He murmured about getting it to his captain…you look like you know”.
Minimus's defensive stance softened as he stepped forward to accept it, understanding the risk she took to give it to him. It was the only physical object of Megatron’s left. Illegal to have, but sentimental none the lest. Rodimus would be greatly appreciative of the gesture.
"Thank—" Minimus began, but she hushed and hurried past him, helm low and disappearing down the corridor as if nothing had happened. He understood, clutching the badge tightly to his chest before subs-pacing it before transforming to vehicle mode. It hurt with his dented plating and bruised internals, but he needed off this hellscape now. He needed to get back down to Cybertron, and back down too Rodimus.
#megatron#transformers#macaddams#mtmte#mtmte megatron#minimus ambus#ultra magnus#idw transformers#drift#ratchet#rodimus#rodimus prime#lost light#idw mtmte#tf mtmte#prowl#transformers fanfiction#Spotify
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City of Lost Souls, Chapter 7: A Sea Change
please see the masterlistfor notes about this series/collection of works
Jordan had only just fallen back asleep when the banging on the front door came again. He rolled over and groaned. The clock by the bed said 4:00 a.m. in blinking yellow numbers.
More banging. Jordan rolled reluctantly to his feet, dragged on his jeans, and staggered into the hallway. Blearily, he jerked the door open. “Look—”
The words died on his lips. Standing in the hallway was Maia. She was wearing jeans and a caramel-colored leather jacket, and her hair was pulled up behind her head with bronze chopsticks. A single loose curl fell against her temple. Jordan’s fingers itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. Instead he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Nice shirt,” she said with a dry glance at his bare chest. There was a backpack slung over one of her shoulders. For a moment his heart jumped. Was she leaving town? Was she leaving town to get away from him?”Look, Jordan—”
“Who is it?” The sudden voice off to his side was rough, and he noticed Rowan reheating coffee from the night before in the microwave. Not the most appetizing choice, but they looked exhausted. Their hair was more of a mess than it had been the evening before and the shadows under their eyes were more pronounced.
Maia’s mouth snapped shut. “It’s me,” she said in a not particularly friendly tone. “Are you…visiting Simon?”
“Simon’s not here,” they said distractedly. Shut up, Jordan thought frantically. “He’s out somewhere.”
Maia’s cheeks reddened. “First he’s cheating on me with Isabelle, now you and Jordan are screwing around—”
Rowan dropped their mug. Thankfully, it was only about an inch above the countertop, so it didn't break, but a bit of coffee sloshed out. They cursed as the hot drink hit their hand. “Oh—by the Angel, no. Not at all what’s going on here.”
“Maia—”
“No,” Maia said sharply. “Don’t. Forget about Simon and Jordan. What I have to say, it’s something you need to hear, too.”
Rowan paled, though they continued to clean up the spill. “If you’re talking about Jace and Clary, I was at Magnus’s last night, then came here. I heard,” they said, their voice taking on a harshly bitter and tired tone. “Magnus wants to get ahold of the Praetor.”
“Woah,” Jordan said, looking between the two of them. Maia nodded, as if agreeing that was what she came here to talk about. “Does someone want to fill me in?”
So they did. They explained everything in pieces, filling in the gaps where one had only heard part of the story as they went. Jace had gone after Clary, tried to convince her to come with him and Sebastian. There had been a fight and Luke ended up injured, and the pack was trying their best to heal him with little luck.
“Magnus called and asked me to come and see you. He tried to reach you but he couldn’t. He wants you to put him in touch with the Praetor Lupus.”
“Put him in touch with….” Jordan shook his head and looked to Rowan. “You didn’t want to mention this last night?”
“I won’t lie, I was so tired by the time I got here, I’d forgotten that you were the one I was supposed to ask.”
Jordan ran his hand over his face. “You can’t just call the Praetor. It’s not like 1-800-WEREWOLF.”
Maia crossed her arms. “Well, how do you reach them, then?”
“I have a supervisor. He reaches me when he wants to, or I can call him in an emergency—”
“This is an emergency.” Maia hooked her thumbs through her belt loops on her jeans. “Luke could die, and Magnus says the Praetor might have information that can help.” She looked at Jordan, her eyes big and dark. He ought to tell her, he thought. That the Praetor didn’t like getting mixed up in affairs of the Clave; that they kept to themselves and their mission—to help new Downworlders.That there was no guarantee they would agree to help, and every likelihood that they would resent the request.
But Maia was asking him. This was something he could do for her that might be a step down the long road of making it up to her for what he's done before.
“Okay,” he said. “Then, we go to their headquarters and present ourselves in person. They’re out on the North Fork of Long Island. Pretty far from anywhere. We can take my truck.”
“Fine,” Maia hoisted her backpack higher. “I thought we might have to go somewhere, that’s why I brought my stuff.”
“Hey,” Rowan said suddenly, catching Jordan’s arm before he left. Their eyes bore into him, pleading for some kind of answers; that was all they’d wanted when they showed up the evening before, too. Answers to why Simon had basically been ghosting them, to their brother’s whereabouts, and if there was any way to gain any modicum of control of the situation presented to them. “Get back fast. And safe.” Their eyes flickered to Maia. “Both of you.”
He didn’t know Rowan well by any means. If this was about Luke, still, he didn’t know why they cared so much about someone they barely knew. He thought back to the night before, and what they’d said about Clary. Maybe that was the difference: people did crazy things when they cared about someone, one way or another.
He nodded. “I’ll keep you updated if we find anything.”
Maia spoke again, a note of seriousness in her tone that wasn’t there a moment before as the severity of the situation set in on them. “Magnus sent me with another message—for you. He wants you to get Isabelle and Andy, and get back to the apartment as soon as possible.”
#xx.rowan#shadowhunters#the mortal instruments#shadowhunters oc#shadowhunters ocs#the mortal instruments oc#the mortal instruments ocs#magnus bane#alec lightwood#clary fray#simon lewis#isabelle lightwood#clary fairchild#izzy lightwood#jace herondale#jace lightwood#jace wayland#sebastian morgenstern#maia roberts#jordan kyle#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#city of bones#city of ashes#city of glass#city of fallen angels#city of lost souls#city of heavenly fire
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Devout - a Magnus Archives fic
An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.
Spoilers for the whole podcast.
Jonah wasn’t going to let me avoid him. Some people always had to have it their own way.
AO3
---------
How badly did I not want to see Jonah? So badly that I was looking for a job.
I sat at Martin’s tiny table and stared at the brochures Mike and Jane had brought. There were so many.
“So I’m guessing nothing too physical for you,” said Mike in his delightful voice, honestly not trying to be mean.
“Don’t be mean,” said Jane.
“Excuse me? I am not,” confirmed Mike. “Look at him. He’s a stick in a sweater.” Such an amiable timbre with such terrible words, had Mike. You’d never guess from his tone just what he was.
“I… I did research in school,” I said. “Historical paranormal studies.”
They both stared at me.
“That exists?” said Mike. “Absolutely wild. Tea?”
“Such a waste of time,” said Jane. “Studying what dead white men care about.”
“Yes, well,” I muttered. “Yes, tea would be lovely.”
Mike headed into Martin’s fancy kitchenette area to make it (and I tried not to be envious of his obvious familiarity).
Jane stared at me. I stared back. “So how well did you know me?” she asked.
And at the same time, I said, “Why did you kill me?”
So that was awkward.
“Your blush is fascinating,” she said. “The way your cheeks just sort of darken. It makes your eyes stand out; they weren’t that weird green in my timeline.”
“No, they’re… they were brown. Just brown.”
Jane tilted her head in Martin’s direction (he was walking Mike through making tea with the tone of someone who’d had this discussion too many times to be civil). “Not ‘just’ brown, apparently. Someone sure thought they were nice.”
“Yes, well, they’re freakish green now, and I’ll probably need contacts,” I muttered at the brochures.
“Or just let people assume you’re already wearing them.”
I blinked at her. “I can do that?”
“We’re nearly in the twenty-second century. You could sew a dick to your forehead, and only some jobs would be out of reach.”
I stared at her again. Tried to speak. Failed.
That was, I think, what she was going for. “Point to me,” she smirked. “As to your question… well, it’s your Eye, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Do you have any idea, Jonathan Sims, what it is to be known, but not loved or feared?”
“Yes,” I said, but apparently didn’t say it in a dire enough tone.
“To people who aren’t freaks, it is horrible,” she said. “It feels like judgment of the worst kind.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I saw people suffering under it for a long time.”
“That’s right— you did. The one I knew was too in his own head to be aware of anything. Did you know he’d fired his Martin?”
“Fired him?”
“He didn’t show up at work, and, well… you didn’t like him at all at first, did you?”
“How much has he told you?” I blurted in absolute horror.
She just smiled.
I sighed and hunched in my seat. “I… I thought Elias sent him there to spy on me and gather evidence I was doing a bad job, all right?”
She started laughing. “You what?”
“It made sense,” I muttered. “I hadn’t asked for him. He clearly wasn’t qualified, and I barely was. And…”
“And the being watched paranoia already had you by the balls,” she said.
My face was burning. “Yes.”
“Well, anyway, you saved his life by it.” She smiled, and it was deeply unpleasant. “He wasn’t there when I took the Institute.”
“Ah. Well. Good,” I said, my eyes huge.
“Of course, he died, anyway when I took the world.”
Dear lord. “About that.” I sat back up. “How?”
“How?” She tilted her head.
“How did you manage a ritual? You… you aren’t marked by all the Fears. I can see that.”
And Jane Prentiss looked confused. “Marked by all the Fears? Gods, what a terrible idea. Why would I need to be that?”
I was stunned.
Mike returned with tea. “Right, here we go. English joy-juice, hot off the kettle.”
“Ooh!” said Jane, absorbing his weirdness, accepting her cup.
I took my and inhaled slowly, eyes closed. The essence of Martin was in this simple drink; all our years together, all the times we spent—all the ways he’d reached out to me while I still had my head up my own arse.
I smiled, eyes still closed. How many cups of tea had he brought to me before I finally realized he’d meant them as a gift?
One thousand, one hundred, and fifty nine, the Eye informed me, and each and every time Martin put tea on my desk flashed through my mind in an instant.
Oh…
Oh, he…
Again and again, that sweet and hopeful smile, looking at me through his lashes, cheeks slightly flushed, just edging the teacup as near as he dared—whether I was awake, whether I was asleep, whether I snapped at him or not, he saw me, and he forgave my churlish self.
Jon? Hey, Jon. Come on. Follow my voice. You can see me, can’t you?
I could see him. I could always see him. He glowed to me, appearing from the gloom of my mind and my regrets, and I suddenly came back to myself.
There were tears on my cheeks. Mike and Jane stared at me, and Martin bent before me, gently cupping my face, talking. “Hey, Jon,” he was saying, patient, eyes soft. “Oh, there you are! There you are.” He kissed my forehead. “Hey. Where did you go just now?”
Oh. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking a little.
“Don’t be.” He rested his forehead against mine. “Was it the Eye again?”
“Yes. I wondered how many times you’d given me tea before I realized how wonderful you were, and It… Showed me.”
“Well,” said Martin, grinning. “I suppose that means It, uh. What was the term you learned from Manuela?”
“Ships us?” I supplied weakly.
“There you go. You’re all right.”
I did not feel all right. I felt hot, and foreign in my own body. “I’m sorry,” I said to Jane and Mike.
Neither of them seemed overly shocked.
“It happens,” said Mike. “You don’t think I lose myself every damn time there’s a thunderstorm?”
“I must be… so careful,” said Jane to no one, gaze distant with memory. “To avoid rotted flesh, to avoid places of garbage, to avoid things that could make me remember the world gone to corruption.” She made that last word into a thing of love, and she shuddered.
I stared at them. Martin was right. They understood. I barely understood, but they did—they understood.
Stupid tears.
“Keep looking,” said Mike, tapping the brochures. “We’ll find you something you can do.”
“Even though I… disassociate, or whatever that was?” I said.
“Even though.” For the first time since we’d met here, Jane looked… softer. “You’re going to be fine, Jonathan Sims. You’ve come into this at the right time, you know? It’s all figured out already. There’s a path.”
That was the second time I’d heard that. It still felt considerably less sure than they wanted it to feel.
I couldn’t believe it. Not yet. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe if I refused to accept it, I could be prepared for whatever doom was coming. Or maybe, by being paranoid, I’d fuck it all up again, destroy the metaphorical table keeping us safe, and ruin what they’d built.
I froze.
Mike’s stomach rumbled. “There goes my alarm,” he said cheerfully, and stood.
Jane watched me. “We shall speak more, you and I,” she said as formally as anyone had ever said anything.
“Yes,” I agreed. “But I can’t right now.”
She shrugged one shoulder and stood.
“Thanks, guys,” said Martin.
Mike’s grin and slow look up and down him got my hackles up—for a moment. “Anything for you, yeah?” He couldn’t help it, could he? He was just… what he was—and felt comfortable enough around us to not pretend anything.
I needed to process that.
Jane was already leaving, and she raised her hand in farewell. Mike followed, giving us a ridiculous wink before closing the door behind him.
“So,” I said, because I’m an idiot, “everybody wants you.”
Martin went bright pink.
I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. “Is there a reason for that?”
“Yes,” said Martin. “It’s a sort of… side effect? I’m constantly fighting not to make everyone around me feel isolated. Unfortunately, that means there’s sort of a vacuum? And it goes the other way?”
I stared at him. “You’re telling me that if you actively avoid making people feel alone, they feel like you’re their best friend?”
“No, they… they sort of…” He rubbed the back of his head. “Think they need me?”
I snickered. Like some goofy teenager. “What?”
“I know, I know, it’s… weird.”
“It sounds like absolute hell to me,” I said, sliding my arms around his shoulders. “How do you ever get any privacy?”
“By running the hell away,” he said with solemnity, and then grinned back.
“Lucky I knew you before all that, hm?” I said. “You know I love you for you.” I eyed him. “You do know that, don’t you?”
“I think so,” he said slowly. “I mean… we’re neither of us exactly the same people we were.”
“We are,” I said. “We’ve both just gone through things. Also, we’ve been living together for weeks now, and if we were going to hate each other after all that, I’m pretty sure we would have.”
He laughed.
And he dipped me like some book-cover heroine.
“Martin!” I said, clinging.
He grinned like a fiend. “Let’s go out for lunch.”
“What?”
“Out. For lunch.”
“Together?” I said, inanely.
“You are such a dork,” he said with great affection, and kissed me properly senseless.
It took a while.
“Okay,” I breathed, remembering to say at long last.
He was still dipping me. That… that was something. “I might have manipulated the circumstances,” he said.
“You are welcome to manipulate me, anytime.” I wasn’t sure that had enough innuendo, so I waggled my eyebrows.
He was still laughing when we left the apartment five minutes later.
#
Surreal. Absolutely surreal. We sat outside a tiny cuban place on a major street, and watched birds in the trees, and breeze in the flowers, and people on their rapid, focused way to whatever they had to do (and the Eye tried to show me the life of every single one, but I refused), and silent cars (that must be truly dangerous—no audible warning they were coming), and a single gray tomcat who stared at us from the awning overhead, watching my plate with great attention.
I didn’t need to eat. It was nice, though. Even if the Eye insisted on telling me every damned spice that touched my mouth. (Garlic, cumin, oregano, bay leaf, salt, pepper, cilantro—)
“All I’m saying is you could go the internet route, too,” Martin said. “I mean, it’s worked for me.”
“Yes, but you got the idea from another version of you who did it well,” I pointed out. “I don’t have another version of me to learn from. It seems, in fact, that I’d better not do anything the lot of them did.”
His smile was shy. “Maybe not anything they did.”
My own smile was shy, too. “Well. I suppose some of them got one thing right. But I don’t really want to lean on the Eye that much.”
“You wouldn’t be a proper psychic,” he said, scraping his plate clean of ropa vieja. “I mean… you could just make stuff up. Other people do.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I also don’t want my face out there.”
“Well,” he said. “That could be part of the mystique—you wear a mask, or something. It could just be your voice.” Quieter, he said, “I know I’d pay money to hear your voice.”
I poked at my picadillo. “Yes, but you’re biased.”
“You have a lovely voice, Jon.”
I pointed at him with my fork. “Biased.”
He grinned. “Based.”
“Based?” I stared. “What—oh.” The Eye, of course, told me. “That’s absurd.”
He was snickering at me again. I didn’t mind at all.
Regardless: I just didn’t want to do internet psychic, no matter what the payday might be. There had to be something I’d enjoy.
We paid. Rose. Complimented the cocinera. And were just walking down the street when it happened.
Jonah Magnus, there in broad daylight, see-through like a ghost, wearing hospital scrubs and an expression of wonder.
I stared.
Martin saw nothing. “What?” he whispered. “Jon. Stay with me, okay?”
“I…” I shook my head, blinked.
He was still there, gawking at me.
“Go away,” I mouthed at him.
He looked absolutely wounded. Then his mouth tightened in a line, and he sort of bowed, and disappeared.
“Oh, hell,” I said. “I doubt Sasha knows about that.”
“About what?”
“Jonah is doing something. That son of a bitch.”
He looked conflicted. “We’re not far from the facility, but…”
“But this is our time. I know.” I rubbed my face. “Martin, he just appeared on the street. He’s projecting himself, somehow.”
“Are… are you sure?” he said.
“Yes. Completely.” Because I was.
I knew I wasn’t seeing things. That was, at least, a nice perk of being made of eyeballs and light.
“Then we’d better go. Come on.” He slid his arm around my waist and led the way.
We walked, and I was grateful, because I needed that time to think.
#
Sasha’s facility used to be just your basic Georgian period homes—one long, flat-fronted building, windows and doors delineating individual flats. A lot of the walls inside had been knocked down. Manuela had… made space underground somehow for all that was needed, and they’d filled it with equipment, and rooms for people like me, including all manner of restraints. I couldn’t even imagine what Historic England might think of all this.
Sasha answered on the second ring. She opened the door and blinked at me. I think she might have gotten taller, too. “Hey,” she said, looking quite confused. “It’s not for two more days?”
“I’m not here for me,” I said darkly. “I’m here for him.”
“Magnus is doing something weird,” said Martin. “He’s projecting, somehow.”
“He’s what?” said Sasha. “What? He’s unconscious. He still has to be sedated most of the day.”
“I want to see him right now,” I said.
She peered at me. “For… non-nefarious purposes, right?”
“Is he in hospital scrubs right now?”
“Er, yes,” said Sasha. “Not much of a guess, there.”
“Pocket here.” I touched. “And there is a tiny stain on his right sleeve.”
Her eyes widened. “There was. We had a minor IV incident about an hour ago. His shirt’s changed now, but… do you just know that?”
“No. I’m telling you, he showed up in the street, incorporeal.”
“Well, that’s upsetting,” she said. “And new—but then, he’s the first of his kind we’ve rescued.”
“You said there are seven more, right? I think we should figure this out before you bring any more into this place, don’t you?”
Sasha considered me. “Swear to me, Jon, right now, that you’re not going to do something to him. He’s new. He deserves the same chance all of us got.”
“I’m only going to talk to him.”
“I told you—he’s sedated.”
“Sasha. Please.”
“Hm,” she said.
“Please,” said Martin.
Sasha sighed. “All right, one condition: I’m monitoring and reporting everything.”
“Go right ahead. I’m not the one being spooky right now,” I said.
“Deeeebatable,” said Sasha. “Come on in.”
The first time I walked this hall, Sasha had just deemed me safe for a glimpse of the outside.
I’d taken baby steps—literally and figuratively—clinging to her arm, and stood in the open door, and stared at a whole world of sunshine and birds and trees and people, and been overwhelmed in three and a half minutes, and wept as she led me back underground at the same easy pace.
She said I’d lasted longer than she’d expected.
I’d told her it was because Martin was out there, and I couldn’t go home with Martin until I was well.
She’d kissed my forehead as I fell back asleep.
I’d been here many times since. Some part of me felt the same horror and amazement every time I walked this hall.
Another part knew a strange relief as we descended the stairs to the sanctuary Manuela had created—and Sasha had personalized.
It could have been as cold as the deeper parts of Manuela’s lab, but Sasha would not allow it. She’d added colorful throw rugs (more muted toward the actual hospital and more colorful toward the door, like a journey). She’d pained murals—flowers, fields, one wall a swirling night sky. Neither people nor animals; nothing to instigate hunting feelings, or the thought of rot.
We were silent on the walk down. The stairs were shallow and easy, which was good, because this trip took us a hundred meters down.
There was an elevator and an emergency ladder, too. We all chose the stairs.
Those stairs represented our effort. Those stairs represented our sanity’s gradual return. Those stairs were the pathway to regaining a life none of us deserved—but maybe could retroactively earn.
They gave me plenty of time to think today, which, I’m certain, she’d planned.
The facility had six beds. No more than four had ever been occupied at a time, and usually, there was only one.
Today, Jonah was that one.
Sasha had done a miracle. He looked like the mental image he’d had of himself. Gone was the matting and curlicued nails, the crusted layers of grime and unspeakable filth. His hair had been cut quite short, but was already growing back out; his cherubic cheeks had color, and yes, his lips were pink.
His eyes moved behind lids as if dreaming.
I knew he was not dreaming.
The Eye wanted to give me everything Jonah had, as if he were a present I wouldn’t just burn.
“See?” said Sasha. “Sedated.”
“Not as much as you think he is,” I said. The Eye wanted to show me—
She checked the monitors. “So,” she said. “Brain activity is completely normal for what I’d expect to see. Is it actually doing that, or is my perception off?”
“No,” I said. “It’s real. He just doesn’t happen to be home.” The Eye—
“Does he need to be restrained further?”
The Eye was trying to—“He needs to stop pretending.” The Eye wanted me to—“Jonah Magnus.” The Eye wanted me to see. “Wake up.”
Barely, I heard the beeping of panicked machines as his system threw off the effects of the sedative he’d only allowed as a courtesy. Barely, I heard Sasha shouting as deeper alarms went off presaging…
Something impossible. Jonah Magnus woke up.
To a backdrop of screeching and shouting and ignored commands, we stared into one another, and there was no screaming this time.
The Eye wanted—
Your brother, It tried to tell me
My rage at that thought made It stop—though I knew It had not changed Its mind.
“My lord and my god,” he whispered, and I heard him above all the chaos around.
“Bullshit,” I said, and knew I could destroy him.
(The Eye wanted—)
Knew how his cells worked, knew exactly the chemical structure keeping his skin one solid substance instead of a pile of composite gore, knew how to unravel his mind in just a few simple words—
“Jon?” said Martin, and that one word in his perfect voice was enough to pull me back.
I breathed.
It wasn’t nearly as chaotic as it had seemed. The monitors by his bed were beeping, and Sasha was talking to Leitner via some kind of video call, but I hardly cared. I leaned into Martin, and breathed again.
Jonah looked back and forth between us.
“You all right?” said Martin softly.
“Yes, thanks to you.” I wasn’t releasing his arm. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said.
“You have a consort,” said Jonah in wonder.
“Excuse you,” said Martin.
Right. This had to stop now. “I’m not God.”
That didn’t land at all. “Why him?”
“How were you on the street?” I countered.
He seemed so surprised at my question. “You don’t know?”
I opened my mouth to be rude as I could.
The Eye showed me.
Showed me exactly how he did that, how it felt, how he saw through the eyes of others so intensely that he didn’t even realize he was projecting himself into those places, visiting and hiding like a Peeping Tom, crouching behind their minds like bushes.
Fool.
But that wasn’t fair. He couldn’t see that. For one reasonable moment, I knew this was how Elias must have felt watching me stumble about, making inane assumptions about my experience because I simply knew no better.
For one human moment, I pitied him and his ignorance.
Then I went back to rude. “Of course I know. Better than you, in fact. You’re wrong.”
Dear lord, I’d hurt him. His whole expression twitched, lips trembling for a beat, eyes downcast as though my opinion meant so much.
That wouldn’t last. I was certain.
God disapproves of me, he was thinking without words.
“For the last time, I’m not a god of any kind!” I snapped.
He looked up. A keen look, cold as ice and sharp as, too.
“Right, here he is,” said Sasha, followed by the tiny black drone broadcasting this mess to Leitner. “Jonah? How do you feel? Do you know where you are?”
It took him a long moment to turn toward her. When he did, he became a different man.
The cheerfully squinty smile, the head guiltlessly tilted up, the little lean toward her, the twist of body language so he properly faced her from the waist-up like an open and honest person would—
Gods, I hated him. The level of manipulation…
“I do, Ms. James,” he said.
I shuddered. He’d said Ms.
That was a portmanteau that hadn’t existed until the 1950s, and he’d somehow already adjusted to it. Oh, gods. He was so dangerous.
“Right, good on question two, but you ignored question one, I’m noticing,” Sasha said.
(Of course he couldn’t manipulate her. That was the one aspect of this I didn’t need to fret over.)
“Well,” he said. “I’m not sure, because that is God,” he said and pointed (and I threw my hands into the air), “but he seems to have forgotten, which isn’t something I knew God could do, so I’m a little bit concerned, to say the least.”
Dear lord, it really was him. Different voice, but him, through and through.
“He’s not God,” said Sash. “His name is Jon. He’s an avatar of the Eye, like you.”
Oh, that familiar condescending chuckle—“Oh, no, Ms. James. Definitely not like me.”
It suddenly hit me that I didn’t know why I’d come down here.
Why the hell was I here? What did I think I could learn that I couldn’t simply have known without putting myself in this position? What had I been thinking?
“Well, it is more true than him being God, all right?” said Sasha. “It’s good to see you so very functional, though.”
His gaze had tracked to the drone. “And I’m being watched again—that motion-capturing device?”
“Oh, yes,” she said with great cheer. “Always.”
“Good,” he said, because it made him uncomfortable, and he believed that surveillance that made him uncomfortable created a lovely atmosphere for our patron.
He was right. And he willingly gave of himself as much as he’d given anyone else he saw, in absolute devotion.
I’d fought consciously feeding It much of the time. I’d certainly never been so giving of myself or willing to sacrifice others. Even when I’d taken live statements, I’d done it for me because I felt like hell and it eased that pain.
But I was still the Eye’s favorite?
Yes.
Was I in danger of being supplanted by this wicked man?
No.
Why the hell not? This made no sense! Why wouldn’t It prefer someone who’d fully given It the world on purpose, and right now, would again?
Jonah looked at me. At Martin. Back at me.
Nothing crossed his face, no visible change occurred to indicate anything, but I knew he didn’t think Martin was good enough. “Why?” he asked again.
Oh, that was the wrong way to go. “Let me make this clear,” I said. “Touch him, try to affect him, do anything to him to harm him or drive him away, and I will make you suffer so much that you’ll believe I am the being who created Hell, do you understand?”
Jonah‘s heart rate picked up; I knew he was afraid, but that’s not what came out. “Oh,” he said in a sweet, smooth tenor. “It seems you certainly remember some of yourself, after all.”
I stared. I looked at Sasha.
“Don’t look at me. This was your idea,” she said.
Martin snorted.
“Don’t even think of harming him,” I added like a moron.
And so smoothly, so instantly, did he switch mindsets that, again, I was shaken. “Of course, lord,” he said. “I’ll protect him as I would myself.”
Damn it. Now what had I done? “That’s not what I meant, either!” I said.
“It’s okay,” Martin murmured to me, hand on my shoulder. “Take it easy. I can defend myself, remember?”
He could. With prejudice. This was not the same man who’d been helplessly thrown to his doom out of pettiness and a bet gone wrong.
That helped. So much. “Yes,” I said, relaxing. “Yes, you can.” I put my hand over his.
Jonah watched all of that without comment.
Right. I knew what I wanted to say now. “Spy on me again without my permission, and I will dig your gods-damned eyes out of your head with my bare hands,” I snapped, and headed right for the door.
“Sorry about all this,” Martin said to Sasha as we passed.
“No harm done,” she said. “New things learned. Good day, overall!”
Why had I done this?
(The Eye wanted me to know—)
“Hey. Hey, it’s all right. Hey.” Martin stopped me on the stairs and held me tight. “I went off screaming the first time I met Peter here, did I tell you?”
I choked. “You did not tell me.”
“Well, I did. Not in front of anyone, though, because what I actually did was invade his Lonely space just to yell at him.”
I pulled back emough to gawk at him. “You what?”
“I don’t know that I made him cry, but, well,” he said, smile slowly taking over his face. “Any time he saw me for the next month, he ran away like a scared child, so.”
I laughed. “That’s incredible!”
“Well,” he said, pretending to preen.
“Wait. You’re friendly now. How?”
“We both chose to move forward and try,” he said. “We’ll never be blood brothers, or anything, but we found the way we could live with it.”
“Martin, you’re… you’re amazing.”
He colored. “Just practical, I think? Anyway, that’s all I’m saying. You did really well, for what this was.”
“I don’t deserve your optimism.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “You don’t deserve my ice cream, and therefore will have to get your own.”
“You and comfort food, I swear,” I said.
“It works.”
“You’re absolutely right, it works.”
“Come on.” His arm around my shoulder, our warmth shared, these steps climbed. “You did fine. Nobody says you have to be friends—just not kill each other.”
I leaned. I wanted to say something clever and pithy, but I couldn’t think of anything. I felt exhausted.
Why had I done this?
(The Eye wanted to show me that he belonged to me. )
But why? Why? I didn’t understand!
I envisioned piñatas with Jonah’s face on them and sighed at my own imagination.
“As if I’d let him interrupt this date,” Martin said.
“Aren’t I the one who interrupted?”
“No, you’re the one who defended me against a used-up Eye avatar in a hospital bed, then took me out for ice cream.”
I laughed. “A hopeless romantic, you are.”
“I believe you’ll find history shows me to be calculating and bullheaded,” he said
“Brilliant. And adorable.”
“You’re adorable.”
“Not this, again.”
We exited, walking back out into that frightening sunlight, into the entre world stretched out like a sheet between many hands, ready to catch the fallen.
Maybe it would be safe to trust this. Or maybe I just wanted to, and that yearning for an impossible world would be my undoing.
Or maybe, I could enjoy this day with Martin, then help him set up for his cooking show, then endure whatever pablum he wanted me to watch because I got to do it while cuddling him.
Maybe we could get a cat.
Maybe… we’d be okay.
But deep underground, Jonah pondered me with the devout fervency of a sworn cleric even as he pattered amiably with Sasha, and I felt him.
I didn’t know what I was going to do.
#tma#tma fic#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jmart#tma spoilers#jonmartin#jonah magnus#magnus monsterverse#mike crew#jane prentiss#sasha james
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I got tagged by @mcbangle for a WIP snippet game, choosing snippets from my WIPs with the following words: evening, spell, color, slow, blue. (The tagging was a while back; I accidentally left this post unfinished in my drafts, which is fitting).
Thanks for the tag! My WIP folder is really more a folder of UFOs (unfinished objects, no progress is being made, I might make progress again later but don't bet on it). Still, I wanted to play, so here are snippets from the least fully dormant stories.
-Color
She longed for nothing more than to find a way out of her small, drab house into a land where she might be a princess or ride a unicorn or simply live a big, colorful life. So she began to search. She shone a torch down rabbit holes and pushed through hedge gaps. Her parents were forever losing track of the girl, eventually finding her in the neighbor’s garden or feeling the back of the linen cupboard in an aunt’s house or wandering into the employee breakroom of a shop, having pushed open the door marked Authorized Personnel Only. Her parents chastised her and told her that opening strange doors without asking them was dangerous. It turned out they were right, though not in the way they imagined.
From a Magnus Archives S5 canon divergence fic that I'm tentatively calling "The Anchor, the Eye, and the Corridor." Jon and Martin see an opportunity to fix the Eyepocalypse hellscape through (among other things) true love and the power of portal fantasy, but first they're going to need Helen's cooperation.
-Blue
It was a cloudy day, cooler than average for so early in autumn, so he threw on a blue flannel shirt over his black t-shirt and jeans, then added sunglasses to make himself a smidgen less recognizable. Generally people didn't bother him much in public (Lee preferred to attribute that to their Canadian good manners rather than the obscurity of his show), but he didn't want even one besotted fan approaching today.
This comes from a fic for Tanya Huff's Smoke series of urban fantasy books. The fandom is minuscule but I deeply love the characters. The fic so far is a lot of fun banter set between books 2 and 3 while Lee Nicholas pines and tries to work through his Crisis of Surprise Bisexuality and Also Magic is Real and His Crush is a Wizard.
-Slow
There was no path. It was slow going, but somehow it didn’t feel like the island was hostile or unwelcoming. It simply didn’t have a place for them yet, though they could perhaps make one.
From a post-canon Magnus Archives fic wherein Somewhere Else is more or less the afterlife.
-Evening
As they grew older, Natasha (Natalia back then) and the other girls learned how to pretend. They practiced slipping between identities as ordered: Russian or American, innocent or cosmopolitan, ditzy or intellectual, fighter or apparent victim, Morning or Evening. Whatever would best allow them to control the target.
From a Natasha-centric sedoretu AU (MCU), wherein the Red Room raised its operatives without belonging to either of the two moieties that determine how a person forms relationships, and Natasha has to figure out her later life without this very basic aspect of identity. I am fond of the existing parts of this story, and occasionally open it up to give it a poke, but realistically am never going to finish it due to the immense size this story wants to be and my lapsed interest in MCU fandom.
-Spell
I couldn't find this word in any of the fics I checked.
OK, that's mine. New words: fire, table, fresh, peace, and hand.
No pressure tagging: @kaydeefalls, @destinationtoast, @blasphemous-lies-and-deceit, @vulgarweed, and whoever else wants to play.
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Adapting Part 1
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Character/s Included: Alec, Magnus, Reader, Raphael, jace, Clary, Simon, Izzy
Word Count: 3677
Series: Adapting
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4
A/N: Triggering Acts are in the next few chapter (SA)
---
Y/N= your name
Y/N/N= your universal nickname
M/N/N= Magnus’ nickname for you
You always got to Magnus’ parties many hours earlier not because I wanted to be first there but because of Izzy. You love Izzy; she’s your sister but she makes you wear such scandalous and revealing clothing so you could ‘pick up’ guys, doesn’t she understand you don’t want a guy who will fall in love with your body and not who you actually are. Magnus has always let you come to his place when you needed to, he tells you stories when you came and today was no different. You sat down on the sofa after you got dressed for this party.
“(M/N/N), today I’ll tell you how you met me and the lightwoods” Magnus said quietly.
‘This will be fun’ you thought ‘I don’t really know much about my past’
“Okay then” you said smiling, you were going to find out more about yourself.
“Well I met your biological mother years before you were conceived. You look a little like her” You watched as a picture turned up in his hand of a lady who looked in her early twenties. “This is her and this was taken about a year before you came along. She never told me much about your father. But this here,” He touches the necklace around your neck “That was from him. I found it at my door a few days after you came to stay here with your mum. You were only meant to stay with me till your mom was done with a job she was sent here to do but she never came back so I adopted you as my child which you have known. What you didn’t know was that I adopted you when your mom died and you were really young, You were only a tiny little baby” Another picture appeared of Magnus holding a baby.
“Is that me?” You ask looking at the picture carefully
“Yes that is you” he hands the picture to you “Your mom took it hours before she died. She always said that to her I was going to be your father figure and that I shouldn’t be afraid to use my magic on or around you cause one day you’ll come see me and want to know everything about your mom’s life”
Suddenly there was a knock on his front door and you raced to it so you could open it before Magnus could. You liked running around his apartment even though you sometimes get trouble from him for doing it. When you opened the door there was a boy there.
Looking confused you yelled “Magnus I think it’s for you” before running away to Magnus scared, you was expecting an angry Izzy or a concerned Alec, not a stranger.
Magnus grabbed your hand squeezing it lightly before moving his arm around you walking me back to the door.
“M/N/N, you’re meant to invite people in. This is Raphael” He said but you got out of his arm and hid behind him.
“He’s a stranger and I don’t like people I don’t know he’s just…”
You were cut off by the stranger Magnus called Raphael, “I didn’t know you had a visitor already Magnus I can come back later if you like”
“Don’t be silly come in” Magnus said and the stranger walked in so you tried to hide more behind Magnus.
Raphael just looked at you before saying “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her around here before Magnus. Who is she and why is she hiding behind you and not in a different room?”
“Oh I forgot” He rotated and put his arm around your shoulders and pulling you to his side where you could still hide my face but still felt safe “Raphael meet (Y/N), she my daughter”
Raphael let out a little gasp as if surprised “I didn’t know you had a child”
“I’m adopted” you whisper into Magnus’ side
“(M/N/N), he won’t hurt you and if he does or if anyone does they have me and the Lightwoods to deal with”
“But you were telling me stories and he interrupted it”
“How about this I’ll continue telling you that story while you help him cook”
You sigh before moving away and mumbled “Fine”
The three of you all walked to the kitchen. Magnus sat on a barstool on the other side of the counter while you sat on one of the counters watching Raphael cautiously and listening to Magnus.
“Once you grow up into this little girl” He handed you another picture “I had to take you to the Lightwoods so you could become who you are today but you still lived here with me since this is your home and I’m your adoptive father and the Lightwoods understood all this cause a few years later they took in Jace” Magnus was smiling at you while you looked at the pictures he had given you.
“Can I see?” Raphael asked and you looked to Magnus who was nodding.
You held up a picture of your mother “You look like her you have her hair and her smile” Raphael said.
You never really knew your mum or had pictures of her, you always knew your only parents were Magnus and the Lightwoods. You moved the photo back and looked at it again carefully before handing it back to Magnus.
“There’s a man hidden in the bushes near the sign in the picture” you said to Magnus who then looked at it.
Raphael stops cooking and moves behind Magnus “He looks different like a multi-downworlder” Raphael said.
“I thought the same he looks like a werewolf Seelie which shouldn’t be normal” you said loudly
“But he also seems to be warlock. We should contacted the Lightwoods” Magnus said
“I’ll call Alec” you got off the counter running to your phone and calling Alec telling him what the you had found. He told you to come right to the institute and they would examine the image there.
Once you three got there Alec was waiting outside and you ran to him hugging him tightly. It was rare that you really saw him since you never moved to the institute but stayed with Magnus. You all walked to a big monitor where Izzy and Maryse joined you. They looked at Raphael, Izzy seemed happy but Maryse looked mad or disappointed but looked back at the monitor. Alec already had the image up on it and was zooming in on where you saw the man was as it went closer you could all see it more clearly.
“He’s the ultimate downworlder” Izzy said grabbing a whiteboard pen off the table handing it to Raphael.
Raphael walked up and wrote vampire down with an arrow to the man’s lips. We wouldn’t have noticed that if it wasn’t enlarged. Raphael handed the pen to Magnus who did what Raphael did but with warlock and his hands. Maryse quickly took the pen off Magnus looking sad before writing shadowhunter down and putting an arrow to a rune that was partly hidden. Izzy was next and wrote Seelie and put an arrow to the leaf mark on his face. Alec looked stunned, so you took it next and writing werewolf.
“We need to contact the clave and downworlders this shouldn’t be possible” Maryse said before looking at Magnus “How old is that picture?”
“Around 17 years old maybe 18 I’m not good with time” Magnus replied
“You said it was taken about a year before I was born, I’m 16 so about 17 years old” you said.
“This persons been out and about 17 years and no one has ever seen him till this picture” Izzy said shocked.
You just walked into the garden at the top of the institute, not because you didn’t like coming to the institute but because this person in that photo hasn’t been seen ever. You were joined by Jace who was on a mission when you came. He and Alec were the ultimate big brothers. Jace sat next you and put an arm around you pulling you closer.
“You okay (Y/N/N)?” Jace asked
“Not really, did you see the monitor when you came in?” I said quietly
“Yeah why?”
“He was in the background of a photo of my mum that’s why Magnus and I are here.” You looked at him sad before whispering “What if that man is my father? He looked like he would be that type of guy to prey on my mum; he’s staring at her in the picture. What if he you know hurt my mum and did…” I started crying.
Jace picked you up and took you down into his room leaving his door open so if anyone came looking they would see you here with him. After about ten minutes Izzy and Alec showed up sitting on Jace bed near you.
“Can someone go get Magnus” Jace whispered and Alec jumped up and ran out the door.
“It’s going to be so weird if he starts dating Magnus” you giggle as you say it.
Izzy and Jace look at you confused before both saying “Why?”
“Causes Alec is like my brother and Magnus is my adoptive father” I looked at them before pulling out the picture of Magnus and you when you were a baby.
“Can we see that picture?” Izzy said moving closer to Jace.
You nodded before handing Jace the picture. “Magnus said my mom took it of me and him only hours before she died.” you snuggled into Jace’s chest and started crying again.
Alec came back With Magnus. “Alec sit down and take (Y/N) I need to talk to Magnus alone”
Alec took you from Jace’s Chest and places you on his lap holding you tightly as Jace walks out.
“He’s telling Magnus about my thought” you whispered
“What thought (Y/N/N)?” Asked Alec just as quietly
“The thought that the ultimate downworlders could be my biological father and um… raped my mom resulting in me” you slowly took your necklace off and handed it to Izzy “Hold onto it just in case he isn’t my father” you just wanted to be safe and with Izzy, Jace, Alec and Magnus you felt like you were. You always will you believe.
It took all four of them half an hour to calm you down. Once you were mostly calm Izzy grab your hand.
“Let’s get you into something else. Tonight well make you forget what has happened today okay? We’ll have fun with this and it’s only a small group going to there.” Izzy said walking you to her room full of clothes; at least they gave your room to her for all these clothes.
“A small group? Magnus doesn’t do ‘small’ what’s small?” you ask confused
“Just me, Jace, Alec, Magnus, Clary, Simon and the rest of the downworlder community”
“That isn’t small that’s quite big but ok dress me up, make me forget today”
“Your wish is my command.”
After what felt like a hour Izzy had done your hair and make-up and dressed you up in something that actually looked quite good as well as a new necklace since you were used to having a necklace around your neck.
When you walked out into the main floor of the institute everyone’s eyes were on you and you started to feel uncomfortable so you ran over to Magnus trying not to trip over your dress or in your heels. Luckily you managed to get there uninjured and you hid your face into Alec’s chest cause it seemed weird to do it to Magnus around this many shadowhunters and Alec is your semi adoptive brother. You felt Alec put his arms around you.
He whispered “You look girly and cute and ready for anything just like Iz”
“And hot you forgot hot Alec” you heard Jace say.
“Everyone’s staring though it makes me feel uncomfortable and I don’t like it” you mumbled into Alec’s chest.
“Jace can you take her home for me I need to stay here with Maryse to help with this thing” Magnus said
“But I’m going to pick up Clary and Simon in a little bit” Jace replied sounding worried.
“You can just drop her off Raphael went back there and he’ll look after her if something comes to harm her and I have a protection spell up she’ll be safe there when you go to get Clary and Simon.”
“Okay then” Jace sighed and grabbed one of your hands that was wrapped around Alec “Come on (Y/N/N) I’ll protect you” When you looked at Jace he was in the superman pose making you giggle.
You had a tight grip onto Jace’s hand as you walked out the institute. On the way home you talked about a lot of things.
“Do you remember meeting me?” Jace asked a bit curiously.
“Not really I was what 5 maybe 6 when you came to live with the Lightwoods” you reply
“You hid behind Alec you always did whenever I was in the room at all. As you got use to me you would come out and hug me. Then when other people came in you hid behind mine if Alec wasn’t there.”
You giggled “I hid behind Magnus earlier today when Raphael turned up.”
“Awe that’s cute, Raphael won’t hurt you at all he may seem mean to start with but you’ll get use to him”
As you walked into the apartment you held Jace’s hand more tightly as you walked into the kitchen area where Raphael was.
“You’ll be fine when I leave if you get too uncomfortable you can hide in your room” Jace said
Raphael looked up towards you, raising his eyebrows “You weren’t uncomfortable with me earlier when Magnus was here you were sitting on the counter talk with me and Magnus and tasting the food I was making” Raphael said
Jace just looked at you surprised “I wasn’t in a dress and in god damn heels” you said.
Jace moves you both into the kitchen and picks you up placing you on the counter “Now loosen your grip on my hand I need to get Clary and Simon from wherever they are” Jace looks into your eyes “He won’t hurt you, you’re safe with him trust me okay?”
“Okay Jace” you mumbled before letting go of his hand
“I’ll be back as soon as I can” He said before kissing your forehead and leaving.
You look towards Raphael cooking and smiled “You cook well for a vampire who can’t eat. How do you know it tastes good?” you ask inquisitively
“I use someone who can eat real food” He said walking towards you with a spoon with sauce on it “Try it”
You smiled tasting it “Tastes amazing”
“For someone who seems shy you aren’t scared of me. Why?”
“Jace said you won’t hurt me and ‘dad’ says I can trust you to protect me so I trust them and you haven’t really done much to make me scared of you. You don’t come fast towards me and you don’t force me to try much and you’re cooking in a place that’s rarely used and making amazing tasting foods”
Raphael laughs “Jace actually said I won’t hurt you that’s funny”
“Why is it funny?”
“When Simon turned he went mad at me wouldn’t let any of the others near me and he keeps a close eye on me still, that’s why I laughed and why I’m surprised he left you here alone with me”
“You won’t hurt me thou will you” you whispered
“Of course not Magnus would kill me if I did”
He went back to cooking and stopping to give you taste tests of what he was making at the time. He had cut an apple up to make an apple pie you had watched him make the pastry from scratched and he knew how to cook well. He walked over to you with a piece of apple in his hand; you took it out of his hand with your mouth.
“(M/N/N), Raphael what are you two doing” Magnus raised his voice slightly amused
“Well Jace put me up here before he left he hasn’t came back and Raphael needed a taste tester” you looked at Magnus smiling.
Magnus looked from you to the living room and back “He’s in the living room with Clary and Simon”
You jumped off the counter storming over to Jace where you slapped him hard in the face “You could have told me you were back” you raised your voice in anger.
“Gosh (Y/N/N) I’m so sorry but you looked quite cute and comfortable with him” Jace said raising his phone for you to look at the pictures he had taken.
Simon put his opinion in “I’ve never seen Raphael like that with anyone”
“Shut up Simon” you heard Raphael yell from the kitchen
You just walked away into your room where you locked the door and sat against it but you could still hear everything going on out there. Clary tried to coax you out of your room but failed. When Izzy turned up you heard the others tell her about what they saw in the kitchen and Iz yelled at them before walking to your bedroom door and sitting against the opposite side of it.
“What they did was wrong (Y/N/N)” Iz said slowly
“Well the pictures show I seemed happy and comfortable with him and what Simon said about Raphael just made me want to hide away in here. I don’t want to go to the party I’ll stay in here all night and watch movies”
“I’ll join you in doing that I don’t want to party with them if they treat their family like that”
You slowly got up and opened the door “Get in before they see it open”
Izzy just smiled and entered “You know Magnus is kind of flirting with Alec again”
“Let them I’ll start calling Alec my other dad soon” You said as you walked and sit on your bed “Close the door and sit with me”
Izzy closed the door but doesn’t lock it and sits with me. “Raphael is still cooking food”
“I tasted his cooking while Jace was out as well as when he was sitting in the living room before Magnus got home”
“I also heard you slapped him”
“I did slap him I couldn’t bring myself into slapping Clary or Simon and I can never slap Magnus he raised me”
“I’m proud of you” Izzy smiled before there was a knock at the door.
“If you’re family leave” you said proudly
“I have food for you both” Raphael said from outside the door
“Go get the food Iz”
Izzy got up and took the food from Raphael and sitting back on the bed with you.
“Thanks Raph” you yelled smiling before starting to eat slowly
As he walked away Iz said “Raph? You called him Raph” She started to laugh.
“I want to eat without being judged or laughed at or whatever Jace and Simon did”
“I’m not being mean it’s kind of cute you calling him Raph and him not yelling at you for calling him it. You know we will have to go out there Magnus will be missing his little girl”
After you ate you two walked out to put your plates in the kitchen but Izzy got ambushed by Simon so you took her plate and put it on the sink in the kitchen. You walked out onto the balcony and sat in one of the chairs out there. You could see the party clearly but also could watch the city as the sun was setting. Magnus walked out with Alec hand in hand.
“If it isn’t my dad and his date whom is my brother” you smiled at them
“Your dad and your brother?” Alec looked at Magnus confused
“You like making things sound so wrong (M/N/N)”
“You’re my adoptive brother Alec and Magnus adopted a baby me” You handed Alec the picture of baby you.
“You didn’t tell my parents you legally adopted her because you believe it wasn’t right to adopt her and didn’t tell me because it would have made things awkward. You’re adorable Magnus” Alec said kissing his cheek before walking away trying to pull Magnus with him.
“You better follow my brother. He hates to wait” you smile at Magnus
“This isn’t awkward at all?”
“No Magnus it’s not now go follow my brother he’s waiting”
You watched him walk away with Alec and your attention went back to the sky, you knew that even though it seemed weird it was nice seeing Magnus happy with Alec. After a while someone else came out.
“At least you are out of your room now” Raphael said
“Yeah my room got boring and Jace seems to be dancing with Clary so his attention isn’t on me.”
“You still had many eyes on you as you walked out of your room to the kitchen and then out here”
“I didn’t even notice. How many eyes were on me?”
“Most of the vampires in there as well as a few werewolves�� He decided to sit next to you “Magnus is right though no one can hurt you around anyone in your family or me. I promised Magnus tonight that I would make sure no one hurt you.”
You looked at him and smiled “I don’t want to stay in here and watch this party but Magnus won’t allow it coz I’m safer here then out in there.”
“I’ll ask him”
You watched as he got up and walked back into the party to talk to Magnus. After a few minutes he comes back and holds out his hand.
“Come on we’re can leave but we have to get you back here before sunrise”
You smiled taking it before getting up and walking to the front door with your hands in his.
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