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frickfrackiwastakingabath · 2 years ago

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Ooh boy! First tma g/t here we go!

...

Proposition

Tw for fear play and general Elias-ery, panic attack I think? Spiraling/circling thoughts

...

Jon used to love living in the institute. He could see all different kinds of humans and here what they were scared of. Not to say it was comforting, knowing the creatures that towered over him could feel small and terrified like he could...

But it was definetly comforting knowing that the creatures that towered over him could feel small and terrified like he could.

The lady, "Archivist" Gertrude read the stories out loud, and Jon, from when he was a little boy, had always been entranced. Much to his grandmother's chagrin, he would stand at the edge of the wall entrance to her office and listen.

He found himself wandering the walls to her office even more, after the spider. Too big, too spindly, hypnotizing. Jon was lucky a chair bumped onto the wall he was in, snapping him out of the terror of the spider and into the terror of the human.

A few years after that, Gertrude didn't show up to work. The day after, people were in and out of her office like ants in a line. The man with the clicky shoes- Elias bossed people around as they lifted boxes of stuff out of the room.

One of these days, Jon was on the book shelf. He enjoyed going behind the old dusty books and being pressed against, like knowledge was giving him a hug. Of course he could never read that big a book, it'd take him ten minutes to turn the page, but it was comforting.

That's where Jon was when he heard the clicking shoes. Elias. He froze in place, not breathing or moving a muscle. The office had been finished being cleaned out a week prior. Surely he wouldn't look at the dusty old books NOW.

"I Know you're there."

Jon bit his tongue. What the hell. He must be talking to someone else, there was no chance he saw Jon, and there's nothing Jon left behind that would make a human think "borrower" first, rather than "a few scraps of string I need to pick up".

No, there was no way Elias was talking to him.

Jon was thrown out of his thoughts at the book he was behind shifted, pulling away from him and letting the too bright lights filter onto the shelf where he was.

"Jon."

Shit.

Okay okay okay. Elias peered down at him. It's fine, he just needed to shimee behind the shelf to get out. But that takes a few seconds, and that might prompt Elias to try and pick him up. But he was exposed, standing there and breathing so hard that all the archives could hear.

He couldn't tall he couldn't think he couldn't BREATH-

Jon has lived in this place long enough to know what humans did to things they found unnatural. Maybe Jon would be in a box in a cabinet for the rest of his life. Or dissected. Or just killed like any other pest, an intruder. In his own home.

Jon backed up into the wall and shrunk into the shadow. Please no please god no-

"Oh cone on," Elias picked him up with ease, wrapping a hand around the full length of his torso like it was nothing. Jon yelped as his whole body was washed over mith motion. "Don't be like that. I thought you were interested in what we did here."

Jon was placed on a hard metal surface- a desk. He tried to back up again, not wanting to crane his neck up to look at that already way bigger than he thought human, but was stopped by Elias's cold hands.

Elias's eyes cut into him more than any scalpel could. Jon felt like his insides were already open to study. He was frigid cold, but his face and chest were damp with sweat. His breathing was unsteady, and the intake of cold air made him shiver.

"Do you have any other friends?"

"No." The answer spilt out of him. Jon gasped, slapping a habit over his mouth.

He felt like he was looking up at the spider.

"Hm," Elias hummed. He chuckled. "I can assure you I am no spider, Jon. And though I do wait for my prey to come to me-"

At that he bapped Jon on the head with a single finger, ruffling his dark hair.

"I do not intend to kill so quickly," Elias smiled. Jon didn't like Elias's smile, he decided. "I prefer my patience to be rewarded handsomely. What do you know of the archives and the institute?"

"I've lived here my whole life, humans come in here to tell stories of scary and abnormal things that have happened to them," Jon's mind raced to answer Elias was quickly as possible. "Sometimes there's scary objects and they're all kept in a room my grandmother wouldn't let me go into. The Archivist read some written stories out loud and she has been gone for two weeks. There used to be... actually a lot more people before she worked alone."

Elias hummed again. "Very astute. I would have thought someone of your sort would have wanted to keep themselves as far away from the host it leeches off of."

Elias cut off his back handed compliment and returned his full focus to Jon, pulling in his arms closer to force Jon to scuttle closer to him.

"I've caught you," Elias stated the obvious. Jon still felt his mouth go dry. "So you're not exactly in a position to refuse anything I offer you. So here's how this will work. You will fulfill Gertude's roll in reading statements and being the Archivist and you can continue living in the archives."

"And the catch?" Jon said automatically. He had heard Gertrude say that to plenty of people. The lady with the books. Her assistant that could pull any string. The boy with black hair.

Elias didn't like that much.

Hands encased Jon, compressing him tight to the point he could Varela breath. With how short and fast Jon was getting air, he doubted he'd last more than a minute like this.

"The catch is same as it always has been," Elias glared. "I can See you at any moment, I could do away with you whenever I want. I can send another spider on you, I'm sure my friend would just LOVE that. I can give you to any monster I want. I See and Know you, and all these years I let you live in comfort and ignorance. So just be thankful, and don't try and get anything else out of me."

The hands released their pressure, allowing Jon to breath. But they were still around him.

"Do you accept?"

It wasn't something he could say no to, Elias already made that clear. The fact he was asking was anything if a little insulting.

"No one can know I'm here," Jon balled his fists, looking back at Elias. "I'm... humans shouldn't know we exist."

Elias sighed. "I suppose that doesn't necessarily detriment your new job. And I do like the idea of a secret only I know. No one shall know of your existence."

Jon flinched back. If someone knew he was here, even if it was a human, they could have saved him.

"I'll... I'll do it." Jon nodded.

Elias smiled. God, did Jon loathe that smile already. "Excellent."

Elias swiftly opened a drawer, nearly throwing Jon inside. He hit the rougher wood with a thud.

"Ex- excise me!" Jon shouted up, doing his best to stay cordial as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. "You said- I thought I wad able to return to my home!"

"Oh Jon," Elias tsked, looking down on him. The walls were not quite double his height, but still impossible to climb without his equipment. "I said you can stay in the archives, didn't I? I'm simply restricting your access. Besides, here I can watch you and make sure no one else will see you. You'll be much safer in here than in some dusty walls, where another less... compassionate human could find you, or where another spider could get you for good this time.

Jon covered his ears as the drawer slid close, the world going completely dark. Jon tried to keep his sobs quiet, knowing it was futile to keep up a defiant facade if Elias could "See" him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Archivist," Elias's shoes clicked towards the door. "And don't worry, I'll have some friends to keep you company soon."

Jon pressed himself into a corner. Stale dusty air ripped through his lungs as he cried himself to sleep.

#tma g/t #tma gt #tiny!jon #giant!elias

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voiceless-terror · 4 years ago

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TMA Polychives Fic Recs

I’ve been in a polychives mood, so I figured I’d round up some of my favorites. Feel free to add on, these are just a sampling!

The Project by Semnai/ @acemartinblackwood Rating: G Words: 2.5k

Sasha was still staring at the notebook in Jon's lap with the very familiar expression of burning curiosity. "You're always writing in it in front of us," Sasha said, gesturing towards the notebook, "but then you won't tell us what you're doing. It's killing us," Sasha groaned. "Well, me, at least."

Martin shrugged. "I mean I get it, I don't always want to share my poetry."

"This isn't poetry!" Jon said, affronted.

Martin gave him a kiss on a cheek. "Yes, I know, dear. If you were writing poetry, I would assume something was very wrong and be appropriately worried."

hold on to me by Zykaben/ @zykaben Rating: G Words: 2.6k

After Prentiss traps him in his flat for almost two weeks, Martin's partners decide that a sleepover is in order.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream by Doodlelupin/ @doodlelupin Rating: G Words: 4.7k

Martin's always had a bit of trouble falling asleep. Having his partners around definitely helps, but it's not a perfect solution.

to take the road less traveled by by bluejayblueskies/ @bluejayblueskies Rating: G Words: 9.9k

Once upon a time, in a land divided by water and mountains and the hands of men into fourteen kingdoms, there was a prince. His name was Prince Timothy of the House of Stoker, ruling over the land of the fae, and though he was neither fae nor human, he would do as a prince should, even if his heart lay beyond, in the kingdom of ever-watching eyes.

So when his father commanded him to venture beyond the land of the fae and into the spiraling forests of the Twisting Deceit, wherein lay a tower so high it was thought to touch the stars, and rescue a trapped princess from that tower, Prince Timothy donned the lightest of leather armors, plucked his bow from the armory, and left his kingdom behind in the glow of the rising sun.

Of Prince Timothy, his lovers, and a princess trapped in a tower.

Plus One by Prim_the_Amazing Rating: T Words: 40k

“Good,” Elias says, gathering some papers into a leather folder. Casually, he adds, “And bring a plus one.”

“A-- excuse me?”

Jon needs to find a plus one for a party he has to attend.

Test Run by hikikom0ri Rating: NR Words: 2.2k

"Sasha," Tim whines, and suddenly he's prying Jon out of her hands like he weighs nothing, propping him against the wall. "You have t' share."

What?

Sasha, unlike Jon, apparently understands exactly whatever the sweet hell is going on and giggles. "Sorry, Tim, just couldn't wait. Martin with you?"

Weather the Storm by rosy_cheekx/ @rosy-cheekx Rating: G Words: 2.4k

“Sasha, any word from Rosie?”

“Mhmm. Two things. Firstly, power’s out in the whole building. Apparently there’s a bit of a blizzard. Elias said we can have the day off. Secondly, Elias said he’s promoting Tim to his personal ass-isstant.”

Its snowing harder than Jon anticipated.

and two of my own!

More than Enough Rating: T Words: 3.3k

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

Or: How One Became Four.

Tis the Season Rating: G Words: 1.4k

The Archives Polycule spreads a bit of Christmas cheer at home. Featuring Disaster Jon, Hot Baker Martin, and Master Decorators Tim and Sasha.

#tma #the magnus archives #fic recs #polychives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james

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theskywaslookingback · 3 years ago

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tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽

Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!

[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]

I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.

Under 5k

means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]

“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.

“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.

A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]

In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.

“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”

“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”

Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”

where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]

Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.

It's complicated.

all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]

Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.

a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]

"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.

“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”

interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]

In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.

searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]

Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".

Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)

how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]

Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.

Good thing Martin has two.

A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]

A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.

Martin helps.

A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]

Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.

"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.

"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."

Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.

Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.

Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.

stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]

“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”

It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]

“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.

nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]

So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.

Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.

When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]

Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.

Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.

go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]

And there is nothing else besides this.

Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]

“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.

“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”

Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.

shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]

“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”

Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.

get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]

Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.

Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.

i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]

'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'

Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.

lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]

Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.

Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.

only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]

This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…

Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.

Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved

5k-20k

and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]

It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.

ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]

How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!

Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]

“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.

“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?��

“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.

Jon and Martin go home for a little while.

Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]

Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.

But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.

house by tomatoes [G] [9k]

Martin can take care of himself.

roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]

Jon is hiding under the desk.

----

There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.

Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]

“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.

i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]

After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.

Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

---

In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Over 20k

The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]

It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…

“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.

Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.

“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”

It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?

By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.

The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.

Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]

Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?

if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]

In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]

“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”

“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”

The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]

"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.

A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]

It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".

Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.

RATED E *MINORS DNI*

A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.

“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.

“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”

Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.

Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]

"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light

There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.

Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]

“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”

Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”

At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]

A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum

triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]

A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics

a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]

Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.

Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.

Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?

#statement ends #anonymous #fic recs #save #((this took me like two hours lmaooooo))

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limelocked · 4 years ago

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oh christ its a transcript

this it the first and LAST transcript i will ever do God DAMN it took two hours for 6 minutes of content, nothing but respect for people making transcripts for like TMA.

this is a poorly formatted transcript of ranboos talk with the voice (nicknamed Muse in the transcript) in the panic room on todays stream (15th of january)

ranboo: let’s give our friend a little visit [pause as ranboo opens the memory book and scene starts] muse, kinda happy: you’re back! ranboo: yeah... I am! didn’t really plan to be but.. I am now ranboo: [sigh] muse: well, welcome back 8) ranboo: yeah- muse: you’re always welcome ranboo: [sigh] I don’t think I’m ever gonna have to come here again after today muse, serious: hmm, why’s that? ranboo: because, I’ve realized something, I’ve realized that... ranboo: you aren’t real [pause] muse: well.. I mean I’M not real but I mean.. I’m also just as real as your Thoughts muse: are you real? ranboo: .. ranboo: yeah..? muse, thoughtfully: okay | ranboo: but-! muse: I’m real too! ranboo, distressed: no, but you’re not real! | muse: I’m not dream ranboo: yeah, you’re not- you’re not dream but.. you’re just the manifestation of my catastrophizing, you're not.. real in the sense that, what you say... isn’t.. true. muse: well.. it’s just as true as the rest of your thoughts I mean I’m you! [short pause] ranboo, sounding surprised at his own words: no. muse: I don’t know why you Hear me as dream muse, verbal shrug: I’m just yourself muse: I mean- dream isn’t here, you can check yourself, dream isn’t even on the server! ranboo: ..yeah... ranboo: but- muse: I mean why would I- why would I lie to you? I’m yourself. would you lie to yourself? ranboo: ... ranboo: yeah, actually. i write down things in my books that I sometimes want to forget so.. it alters my actual memories, cus the books are much more powerful than I first made them out to be... so ranboo: I don’t... | muse: huh ranboo: I don’t think that- I think you’re just something to fill in the gaps of my memory muse: ... muse, bemused: okay..? ranboo: you’re not- you just make up things based on the slight information that you have, I mean this tnt! this tnt- I picked this up from l’manburg!- on the day of the explosion, it was.. two.. un- unplaced things of tnt and I- I broke them [slight voice crack] I picked them up, they weren’t exploded, and I just put them in this chest!- muse, more monotone somehow: why did- why’d’you put them in that chest? behind the wall? ranboo: to.. [sigh] I don’t- b- t- to protect myself maybe?! as kinda of like a last resort? muse: yu- use it to Remind yourself, you- you were Trying to help yourself, you were trying to remember ranboo: but why would I- why would I Want to remember the things that I do wrong? muse: because you wanna know the truth ranboo: bu- | muse: eh that’s what I am, I’m just- I’m just the truth, maybe the hard truth but the truth ranboo: you’re NOT tho, you’re NOT the truth! you are Lies that are made up because I- ranboo: don’t remember- | muse: what have I lied about? ranboo: the community house! there’s NO WAY that I would blow up the community house! or even Help, with Anything that dream was actually doing muse: well you Did muse: like I said, I’m- I’m you- I’m- I’m- I’m parts of your memory that you don’t... wanna hear, but you did blow up the community house, you did a lot of things! ranboo: I.. well wadda things like I- I helped dream get the tnt an’ that’s why there’s only two pieces, why would I not have stacks if I helped dream get that much tnt?? muse: Mmwell cus they’re- they were used, they’re all- they’re all gone, they’re all blown up, the evidence- y’know the evidence is the Crater ranboo: but... but there’s no more evidence that I helped with that, I woke up, in the same place.. Before.. And After the explosion ranboo: when I- when I passed out in the- in this box I woke up In this box ranboo: and you’re saying that I helped dream pl-collect tnt so that means I would have to go Outside, Help Dream, and then Come Back and that just doesn’t make any sense to me! muse: okay let’s think! let’s- let’s try and remember- let’s try an- let’s try an’ y’know we can- we can work together, alright? we can piece it together ranboo: okay muse: okay? so whe- where did you wake up yesterday? ranboo: aaat... my.. house! muse: where do- where were you.. last time you remember before that? [pause] ranboo: I was... in- in my- in my house again? I’m pretty sure, yeah muse: okay, what about the day before that? ranboo: I- think I was... here muse, approving: you were here muse: where’d you wake up? ranboo, sinking despair: I woke up at my house... ranboo: but- | muse: that’s interesting ranboo, panicking slightly: maybe- maybe I just wandered there though, maybe I just wandered there tho, there’s- there’s no saying that I do evil things, maybe it’s just, I naturally go home from this place because want to- muse, patronizing: just remember! just remember! | ranboo: -be in this place muse: think about it! | ranboo, frustrated: I try- ranboo: .. ranboo: I- I Can’t. you Know I can’t ranboo: if you’re ME then you know I can’t remember muse: yeah bu- but I’m- you so I know You Can because I know [pause] ranboo: I- ranboo: I must- | muse, encouragingly exasperated: just be Honest with yourself! ranboo, distressed: I- I am! I’m being the most honest that I can be ranboo: I know that I didn’t blow up the community house, I Know that I- ranboo, agitated: I move around- so what?! I move around whenever I- I- g- go asleep sometimes, I randomly wander.. that doesn’t mean that I’m- muse: you’re not being honest with yourself! just Think! remember muse: Think. ranboo: okay | muse: Just. Focus. ranboo: okay muse: Focus muse: what were you doing- | ranboo: I- muse: -the day the community house blew up? ranboo: the- the- the night before.. I... was helping out with the decorations and everything.. and then I made the panic room, and then I.. and then I blacked out in here ranboo: and then the next day I woke up.. also in here muse, accusatory: that’s weird that you- that you Black Out when bad things happen muse: you just coincidentally don’t remember Anything between when the community house was There and then when it Wasn’t there ranboo: see- tha- that’s- No! tha- what you just said proves my point, you’re just filling in the gaps with my memories with evil things, cus you’re not- muse: but I’m Not! | ranboo: -truthful muse: I’m- I’m- muse, deflated and defeated: okay 8( muse, serious: listen muse: I..... Am You muse: I dunno WHY you’re- you- y- you hear me like dream, But I’m You! muse, very convinced: I’m You. muse: I’m not making anything up, do You make things up? Do You make memories up yourself? ‘n wright fake memories in your memory book? ranboo, ashamed: only when I don’t want to hurt people muse: ‘kay muse: well, let’s go back, two nights ago ranboo, regained confidence: okay muse: you Blacked Out. ranboo: yeah muse: you were here. ranboo: mhm | muse: then you were at your house ranboo: yeah muse: just try to remember, what happened, what happened that night- ranboo: okay | muse: something happened, something- ranboo: okay | muse: I remember, and I’m You, you can remember, just Think ranboo: okay ranboo: I... I- I do remember walking out [pause] I went.. towards the portal [pause] an’ then.. ranboo, concerned: the- there’s a gap [short pause] there’s a gap between me, about to find the portal, and.. muse, frustrated/annoyed: okay! you Talked to Dream! what did dream say? do you remember? you talked to dream- ranboo, alarmed: I talked to dream?? muse: -you met up with dream, you met with dream in the nether! what did he say? ranboo: wha- muse, frustrated/annoyed: YOU CAN REMEMBER! | ranboo: he- muse, frustrated: Just Think! | ranboo: keeping muse, frustrated: Just Think! | ranboo: keep- ranboo, testing the waters: keeping something safe? muse, interested: yeah?~ you’re getting closer ranboo: keeping-... something very valuable safe, saying that he trusts.. muse, interested: okay ranboo: -my.... this state of me [pause] ranboo: more than the other state, meaning this state ranboo: what did I- what did I keep safe?? [pause] muse, giving a hint: he got it from skeppy [pause] ranboo: ..disc muse, as if his time is almost up: listen- muse: just- just remember ranboo: he- he gave- he gave me a disc to keep.. safe [pause] ranboo: wait but- wha- whe- where did I keep it? ranboo: where- where could I’ve- ranboo: where could I’ve kept it? where could I’ve- ranboo, urgent: I have to go back

#mcyt #dreamsmp #dsmp #ranboo #ranboolive #my fucking hands dude im so cold #reference

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silver-colour · 4 years ago

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New fic: Even for an Hour

Tma fantasy week DAY TWO, organised by @tmafantasyweek , written for the prompt "twilight"

SUMMARY: When you can only see the one you love during twilight, and must be separated during both the day and the night, the hours seem to go so very slowly- in which Martin is a spirit of the day, and Jon of the night and every twilight they meet again, and part again.

Rating: T

Length:1.2k

Cws: kissing, and yearning

Read it under the read more or right here on Ao3! Comments and kudos are massively appreciated in either place 🧡

Other fills: Day one: Lantern

Martin watches the Sun sink slowly, ever so slowly, towards the horizon. How he hates summer. The interminable hours of daylight that keep him away, keep him waiting, missing and remembering. He knows Jon feels the same about winter, when Martin’s days are short, and Jon’s nights endlessly long and dark. It is inevitable, and it will pass. Eventually. But knowing that, having lived that for these long years since their first meeting doesn’t make the waiting easier, nor time pass any faster.

They had agreed to meet here, this morning, in the last ephemeral moments of dawn when the night finally loses its grip on the sky, and the day breaks. Jon had overheard a few humans talking about a party happening on this beach tonight. Something Jon called a “proper party”, meaning no unfathomable thumping music, but actual dancing.

It was a wedding celebration, apparently. Martin had been watching them all day, though no humans ever saw him. No one ever saw him, except Jon. There were others like them, even the spirits aren’t unique, but they were few. And what with each of them having their own domain? It required quite a bit of luck, or some very good timing for two spirits to meet. Or they simply needed to arrange a meeting place, and show up on time.

Martin glanced at the Sun. Still there, still sinking, not quite at the horizon yet. But definitely closer now.

Martin tried to distract himself by watching the human’s wedding party as drinks were poured and the band started tuning their instruments. In fairness, he couldn’t quite tell if the two adorable elder ladies were getting married, or possibly renewing their vows. Human language is so fleeting, so sound filled and wondrous that Martin always struggles paying attention, instead just listening to the sounds like one might to a soft song in a new language.

What the spirits speak is perhaps more, perhaps less than a language. Certainly it doesn’t produce the varied sounds that human language creates, but it has a music all it’s own. And Jon’s words most of all...

Perhaps the possible-wedding was not quite as successful a distraction as Martin hoped. Glancing again at the Sun, he could see she was almost touching the Ocean now. Martin’s heart leaps inside his chest: Jon should be here soon.

Staring into the light, willing it to go faster, faster– but not too fast, or it would eat away his time with Jon. He hates it, sometimes. This forced separation, this eternal waiting game they play. Jon says there’s nothing to be done for it, they cannot change what they are, in the same way the Night cannot become Day. They can only ever replace the other, touching at the edges. And in those edges Martin met Jon. In those edges he fell in love with that sharp, clever, brilliant man. And only in those small bits of overlap can they meet each other.

Finally, finally, the moment Martin has been waiting for all day: the Sun has reached her horizon bed; it is dusk. As the band strikes up the first song behind him, a gentle hand lands on his shoulder. Martin spins around and there, waiting for him, is Jon, who looks more radiant in this moment than the sun herself.

“How was your day?” Jon asks the question with a smile, as though they do not ask this every evening, and every morning. The question remains, even though the answer varies sometimes. Today, Martin’s answer is as heart-felt as the vows of the two brides now stepping onto the dancefloor behind him for their first dance: “It was way too long.” He takes Jon’s hand from his shoulder, twines their fingers together, and wishes he need never let go. He will have to, one way or another, but not right now, and he plants a kiss on the back of Jon’s hand. Jon’s blush is beautiful, and adorable and Martin will never understand why he blushes still. No one could stop them except the inevitable passing of time. Except the same passing of time will reunite them as well, an endless cycle of meetings and farewells, and–

Jon tugs at their hands, still entwined, and pulls Martin out of his thoughts: “It really was a long day, huh?” A smile that is only half a smile stretches across Jon’s lips. He puts on a brave face, a cool facade, but Martin knows feels the same way. The other half of that smile is twisting into sadness, and Martin can’t have that. They’re here to enjoy the party, while they can. They can be sad another dusk, another dawn.

Martin leans close, and presses a feather-light kiss to the not quite smiling corner of Jon’s mouth. He retreats only far enough to watch the way Jon’s eyes light up at that, and even as he thinks he could stare into those eyes forever, Jon reaches up his other hand and pulls Martin back, crashing their lips together with a hunger Martin knows he wouldn’t dare voice.

Martin once lamented out loud the fact that they still need to breathe, despite their less-than-corporeal forms. Jon had looked at him askance, and talked for half an hour at least about the importance, as well as the significance of breathing, and why even as spirits there were certain laws that could not be broken. Then Martin had kissed him breathless, and after Jon finally caught his breath he’d blushed a magnificent shade of sunset-red when he admitted that Martin made a good argument.

This kiss isn’t quite breathless, although Martin can taste the hunger of it as Jon licks into his mouth and presses himself close and closer. They both know they have other things to be doing, however, and Martin separates them, even as Jon whines a small protest. Breathing heavy, breaths mingling in the short distance between them, Martin asks the question he’s been waiting to ask all day: “May I have this dance?”

Behind them the wedding band is playing something that may or may not be a quickstep, but that hardly matters as they join hands, and step close together. Closer, perhaps, than is practical, but lack of full corporeality has some advantages.

They dance, around the humans, and around the music, to a song all their own. If the music in the air is too fast for the dance they flow through, they skip some beats. If the music is too slow, they use the beat of their hearts to guide them, ever closer, forever together. While the song lasts, they think of nothing else but the song, and each other, until eventually Jon looks over Martin’s shoulder to see the Sun has almost left them.

Jon slows, and Martin does too, but only reluctantly. They’ve danced this metaphorical dance too often for both of their tastes, and will dance it again many more times. But the alternative is not knowing, and not seeing Maritn again. So they dance this conversation as well.

“Shall I see you at dawn?”

“Oh Jon,” Martin plants a kiss on Jon’s lips, and adds a softer kiss to his forehead as well. “You know I’ll be here.”

A small smile grows on Martin’s face, even as he begins to fade with the last dying rays of sunlight: “Will you save me a dance?”

And Jon can only smile at that, even as his heart breaks the way it always does when dusk fades into true Night: “For you? Always.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tmafantasyweek #jonmartin #tma fantasy au #silver writes fic #soft #yearning

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Chapter 59: Statement of what comes now.

[CLICK]

[PANTING BREATHS, ECHOING SLIGHTLY, THAT SLOWLY EVEN OUT]

JON

Wh-what…what…?

Martin! Martin, where—where are you? I can’t—oh, God, I can’t see anything, I can’t—did that—

(in a different tone of voice) Martin? Are you here?

[ECHOING SILENCE]

JON

…Okay. Okay, this—this isn’t reality. This isn’t—he’d be here if I was—

Right. Okay.

(more loudly) Hello? Hello, is anyone out there?

[MORE SILENCE]

JON

W-wait…wait, is that—there’s something—okay, okay, I’m not blind, it’s just…dark. I can cope with that.

Right, okay. Think, Jon. After what you just did…if you’re not in the Institute, if you’re not in the world you’re used to, then you’re probably…somewhere else. So things are going to follow dream logic, right?

Right. Dream logic. (sigh) So I suppose I go looking for a switch.

[ODD CHITTERING, BUZZING NOISE THAT SUDDENLY STOPS]

JON

Oh, for—there has got to be away around this. No light switch, no walls, and I don’t trust the floors, so…

What am I supposed to do, say “Let there be light”?

[LOUD THUNKING NOISE, LIKE SOMEONE SWITCHING ON STAGE LIGHTS, OR AT LEAST A SPOTLIGHT]

JON

Seriously?

(frustrated sigh) Well, at least I can see now. I—wait. What in the—who’s there?

[A VOICE BEGINS SINGING SLOWLY, FAINTLY AT FIRST BUT SLOWLY GETTING LOUDER]

ANNABELLE

One elephant went out to play Upon a spider’s web one day She had such enormous fun She called for another elephant to come…

JON

You have got to be kidding me.

(resigned sigh) Right, here we go…

[ODD NOISE STARTS UP AGAIN, PUNCTUATED BY STICKY RIPPING SOUNDS, FADING IN AND OUT AS IF RESPONDING TO PRESSURE…OR FOOTSTEPS]

ANNABELLE

Hello, Jon.

JON

Annabelle Cane. Why am I not surprised?

ANNABELLE

You don’t sound pleased to see me.

JON

Let’s just say yours is not the first face I wanted to see when I woke up.

ANNABELLE

I have good news for you, then. It isn’t. You’re not awake.

JON

Oh, you can invade dreams now too, can you?

ANNABELLE

You aren’t asleep, either. And I think you already knew that.

JON

Oh, goddammit.

[A MOMENT OF SILENCE, SAVE THE FAINT ODD CHITTERING NOISE]

JON

…Wait. That noise, that’s—

And it gets louder every time we—

[CHITTERING SUDDENLY GETS LOUDER, WITH A FEW CLEAR WORDS HERE AND THERE, THEN FADES AGAIN]

JON

Are these tapes?

ANNABELLE

A fine material to spin a web with, don’t you think?

JON

It’s you.

A-all this time, all these—the recorders, the, the tapes…it’s all been you?

ANNABELLE

Well, not all me. Not all of it, anyway.

The Mother of Puppets has always collected stories. There are more reasons than one it’s called spinning a tale, you know. And spiders…it’s so hard to keep them out of places. People don’t generally call exterminators for them. Not for only one or two, and not if they don’t seem dangerous.

So yes. The Web has been lurking about the Magnus Institute, and the Archives, nearly as long as there has been an Institute. Listening. Drawing from the stories. Weaving a tapestry that tells the history of the world…and its future.

But this web? This one is mine.

JON

The tapes I recorded…

ANNABELLE

Oh, yes. All the tapes since you became the Archivist are here. Listen to this!

[A SQUEAL, THEN A CLEAR PLAY OF THE TAPE FROM MAG 000.2 - PRE-LAUNCH TRAILER]

ARCHIVIST ON TAPE

It’ll get you too. You can stare all you want, make your notes and your inquiries, but all your beholding will come to nothing. When the time arrives, and all is darkness and butchery, you’ll wish you had stopped listening and run.

[ANOTHER STICKY SOUND, LIKE SOMEONE PULLING OFF AN ADHESIVE BANDAGE]

JON

(shocked) That—that was—I only did that one as a test, to—to see if the recorders would work…

ANNABELLE

And they did. Admirably.

Go on. Try one.

JON

Look, I don’t—

ANNABELLE

You’re curious, aren’t you? You want to know.

There is no time here. Not really. No hurry. No pain. Nothing can hurt you if you indulge your curiosity a little bit. And it might not be so easy to believe once you leave.

Pick a strand. All you have to do is touch it, like so—

[ANOTHER SQUEAL, AND THEN ANOTHER RECORDING BEGINS TO PLAY FROM MAG 22 - COLONY]

MARTIN ON TAPE

—wasn’t anything to do with spiders that ended up after me. Almost wish it had been. (nervous laugh) I like spiders. Big ones, at least—

[RECORDING CUTS OFF WITH STICKY SOUND AGAIN]

ANNABELLE

—and you can hear them.

JON

He doesn’t anymore, you know.

ANNABELLE

Like spiders? Oh, believe me, I know.

I don’t think he’s liked them since he found out what happened to you. Not that I can blame him, of course. How do you feel about clowns these days? Or being alone?

JON

I—

ANNABELLE

Go on, Jon. Touch one. It doesn’t have to be…fresh.

JON

Why are some of these—

Is that…ash?

ANNABELLE

Dust, mostly.

(considers) Well, some of it might be ash. It depends on why that section of web isn’t used anymore.

JON

(tartly) I didn’t know being obscure and mysterious was in the Web’s domain.

ANNABELLE

It is if you want to manipulate somebody who’s addicted to knowledge.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to manipulate you. It’s just a habit at this point, really.

JON

…Fine.

[A COUPLE OF CAREFUL STICKY, CHITTERING FOOTSTEPS, THEN A SOFT SQUEAL BEFORE A RECORDING SHARPENS IN, FROM MAG 134 - TIME OF REVELATION]

PETER ON TAPE

What does—puzzle me though, and I mean that genuinely, is—why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin while Jon was in there. (brief pause) It’s a question, Martin, it’s—it’s not an accusation.

MARTIN ON TAPE

I don’t know. And I just – felt like it might help. He’s always recording, and I thought it—it might help him…find his way out.

PETER ON TAPE

Interesting. Were you compelled?

MARTIN ON TAPE

I don’t know. Maybe? I-I, I definitely wanted to do it.

[RECORDING FADES OUT ON THE LAST WORD]

JON

(shocked) Th-that, that was—that hasn’t happened, that didn’t happen…

ANNABELLE

This time.

JON

You knew? When, when I met you at Hill Top Road, when you…you knew I’d come back from the future.

ANNABELLE

Of course.

You and Martin, your Martin, you came back after Jonah Magnus made you end the world. The Keeper of the Light led you to a door, that led you through some halls, that led you to another door, that led you…back. To get—

JON

—a second chance.

ANNABELLE

A second chance? Hardly.

JON

And just what is that supposed to mean, exactly?

ANNABELLE

Only that.

JON

…Fine. F-fine. Be mysterious and vague. See if I care.

[ANNABELLE LAUGHS KNOWINGLY]

JON

How do you know…the tapes. You just told me you’ve been listening to the tapes. Martin made his statement about those halls—

ANNABELLE

But you didn’t.

You haven’t talked about what your journey was like to anyone, have you? Not even Martin. He knows you came through the same halls, but not what you saw. He doesn’t know that for you, there were no colors and no changes, that every hallway was the same and there was no way to tell when you were getting closer, until you reached that long tunnel.

The one with the glass walls and ceiling, like an underwater aquarium. With dark shapes you couldn’t make out pressing against the outside, trying to get your attention. With thousands of whispering voices, over one another, so hard to make out, pleading, promising, coaxing. Offering you anything you desired if you would only make it stop, blaming you for their suffering, demanding how you could just walk on by as if—

JON

Stop.

ANNABELLE

You didn’t know you were recording, either. You’ve grown so used to those recorders that you didn’t even notice them anymore. And yet, I was listening.

JON

You were—what?

Y-you—you’re from the future, too!

ANNABELLE

Mm. That’s more complicated than you think it is.

JON

How did you know what we were doing?

ANNABELLE

Because I set it in motion.

JON

…You…you what? Those halls, that—that portrait gallery, that—

ANNABELLE

Which one?

JON

Which—both of them. The ones that—that Martin had to face.

You said you listened to the tapes, you—

ANNABELLE

I did. And I was…shadowing you both, I suppose.

You never wondered how I was at Salesa’s, did you? Not why I was there, how I was there.

JON

I…to be honest, I don’t remember much about those days.

ANNABELLE

I don’t mean while you were there. I mean after. You never thought about how I could have ended up outside my own domain, let alone outside the Apocalypse altogether.

JON

I tried to think about you as little as possible.

ANNABELLE

(heh) I’d be hurt if I didn’t understand completely. I suppose if I’d been lucky enough to escape the Spinner of Webs, I’d want nothing to do with any of her children either.

But you know the rules of the Apocalypse, Jon. It never occurred to you to wonder how a Watcher could stray from their domain?

JON

Martin did. And Helen. They both—

[STATIC CRACKLES; IT’S THE ARCHIVIST’S STATIC, BUT IT SOUNDS UNUSUAL IN A WAY THAT’S DIFFICULT TO PINPOINT]

JON

The Distortion never truly left its domain. Never went far from its doors. And while the domains we saw Helen in were seemingly those of other fears, they all had at least an element of the Spiral in them.

Martin was in the unique position of being both Watcher and Watched. He had the domain he oversaw, small though it was, but he was also, perhaps, the only sufferer in a domain that belonged to me as me and not me as the Eye itself. He could walk the world unharmed because what hurt him was watching my pain and power grow in equal measure, the suffering of not knowing what I would choose in the end.

And you…

Your domain was like Daisy’s. It was the other domains, woven through them like a silken thread, a subtle tug of manipulation. It was the tapes that kept recording our journey and the tugs that led us to people we tried to help or conquer and a thousand tiny maneuverings to keep us moving ahead.

[STATIC FADES; JON GASPS SLIGHTLY]

JON

That…that shouldn’t have felt like that.

ANNABELLE

You’re a bit far from the Eye here. But to be fair, so am I.

JON

We’re in the middle of your fucking web!

ANNABELLE

But my web. Not the Web.

Any power the Mother of Puppets has here is residual, and comes through me. Any power the Ceaseless Watcher has here is residual, and comes through you. I brought the web to show you, to help you understand, but it doesn’t belong here any more than we do.

JON

You were—you were manipulating those tunnels. To…what? Slow us down?

ANNABELLE

To help. Well, you didn’t need it, but Martin…

JON

Martin is stronger than you think.

ANNABELLE

Do you know whose domain that was?

JON

The Spiral’s. Of course.

ANNABELLE

And the Eye. Together.

Together they hung that gallery of accusation, the paintings that all seemed to hold Martin responsible for their deaths. His friends, his family…strangers he never met but felt responsible for. Its purpose was to keep Martin lost—disorientated and in crippling pain and anguish. Forever.

If he had kept going down that corridor, he would never have found the door to the past. And the Keeper would never have been able to find him. Both of them had too much of the Lonely in them—just enough to keep them both isolated and searching. If they didn’t know where to meet.

JON

(whispers) My God.

They—they knew what we were trying to do. Of course they did. And they didn’t—

ANNABELLE

It’s not about foresight. Neither of them really have that. That domain was a mix of the Spiral and the Eye. It’s just what it was designed for, that’s all.

JON

That’s all? It was more than enough.

So which did you—

(with horrified realization) The paintings of me. You did that.

ANNABELLE

To remind him.

JON

Of what, for God’s sake?

ANNABELLE

In part, of what he had to prevent—what he had to stop from happening. What you’d been through and he had to make sure didn’t happen. In part, it was letting him experience your pain. He’d heard what you went through, of course, but to actually see it…in so many ways, that would make it worse, and make his determination stronger.

And, of course, part of it was just putting you back in his mind over everyone else. It was the last little…anchor tethering the two of you together, to the past. Something to keep him present so the Keeper could find him.

JON

And show him that last painting. Thankfully.

Did you know about that one?

ANNABELLE

I put that one there, too.

Surely you didn’t think the Keeper knew enough to have done it.

JON

I—n-no, no, but—

Why?

ANNABELLE

Why show it to him?

JON

Why that moment?

ANNABELLE

Because it wasn’t on tape.

I left you alone while you were in Scotland, up until the end. You two deserved a few weeks…unobserved. Alone together. To figure out what you are to one another.

Actually, I had quite a job keeping the Distortion distracted so it wouldn’t pop in and interrupt. It was something of a challenge.

The first time, anyway.

JON

The first time?

ANNABELLE

Oh, we’ve done this dance before. In its fashion.

JON

What dance?

ANNABELLE

The Apocalyptic Tango, I think Martin called it once.

[JON SIGHS IN EXASPERATION]

JON

Do you ever give a straight answer? Or tell the truth?

ANNABELLE

I’m hurt! I’ve been nothing but honest with you this whole time.

JON

(dry as the Sahara) And the other times?

ANNABELLE

Mostly you wouldn’t have believed me.

I did try a time or two. You always insisted it wasn’t possible, or that there must be some sort of catch. You only believed me once, and even then, I don’t think you believed. You simply wanted it to be true.

JON

Are you trying to get me to compel the truth out of you?

ANNABELLE

The way you did Peter Lukas? Or…which one was it? Breekon?

You don’t need to force it, you know. All you have to do is…ask nicely, and I will spin you the tale.

JON

…

Statement of Annabelle Cane, regarding the Web’s plan. Recorded direct from subject…ah…

ANNABELLE

At the end.

JON

…Statement begins.

ANNABELLE

This is the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

These are the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the hero that wielded the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the story that begged to be told of the hero that wielded the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

So few of the things that are Fear are gifted with foresight. The End, of course, knows what will come, because the End is inevitable. All things end, sooner or later. The Web cannot see the future but it can see…patterns. The threads of a story, and what they will be when they weave together.

When the Mother of Puppets first saw the crack beneath Hill Top Road, she thought she understood what it was. A hole in reality, a portal between universes. Places where fear had not touched, where it was not known. But then she saw it for what it was. A crack, not in space, but in time. A way to move between moments. And she began to plan For she saw the threads, and she knew that someday, someone would end the world. And when that happened…eventually, all would end. Even fear cannot last forever, in a world where nothing new is born. Eventually, all must end.

Her plan has been the same, for years. Generations. Choose a champion, mark them young. Put them in the path of a fear, and wait. Then, should the world end at the hands of that fear, tug that champion to cut the strings of fate and send all bound up in it through the crack…and back in time. Back in time enough that they could stop it.

And really, it should have worked.

To a point, it did work. Again, and again, and again, and again. Jonah Magnus sent you his ritual, you read it, the world came to an end. You tried to repair it. You walked to London…and there it got complicated.

The trouble is the Spinner’s plan depended, in the end, on your choice. We told you that you would have had to simultaneously blow up the Archives and stab Jonah Magnus, and then all would have been thrown back in time. In truth, that would not have worked—not if Jonah was still the Eye’s Pupil. It had to be you. You had to choose to take his place…and then have the tethers cut. Then, and only then, would you be sent back with the knowledge to alter things.

Sometimes I told you the original story, that it was a crack in reality and would send all the fears somewhere else, or scatter them across worlds. Once or twice I told you the truth. As I said, it was so hard for you to believe me, regardless of what I spun. Mostly you thought I was manipulating you, lying to you, trying to get you to doom a thousand other worlds. Occasionally you thought it would end the world faster. Only once did you believe me—in a time when I came to you in a cabin in what was once Scotland, a time when I knew you would not act if you did not know you could turn back time, a time when the man you loved turned back for his umbrella and understood what he was hearing and tried to save you and the world.

JON

No…

ANNABELLE

It never quite worked, in the end. Time and again, the strings would be cut, the world would snap back…and time and again, we would retread the same paths. Over and over. So little I could change, so little I could do differently before the Apocalypse and I tried to find a new way to get you to be in position to be dragged back.

Finally, finally, it happened. You tried to take Jonah Magnus’ place, to hasten the end and starve the fears…it would never have worked, of course, but you tried. Martin anticipated it, though, he tried to stop you before you killed Jonah, to delay you while the others lit the fuse. You were faster than he thought, though, and had already become the Pupil of the Eye. You told him to go. To save himself. But Martin would not leave you, despite the danger. Rather than watch him die for nothing, you told him to cut the tether. And he did.

It worked the way the Web intended, of course it did. But for you to remember and be able to fix it, you would have both had to be alive when you came through at the other side. Even one of you would have been enough. But when I woke again and plucked the strand of the Web, I could hear that neither of you remembered.

Neither of you had survived.

[JON MAKES A PAINED NOISE OF DISTRESS]

ANNABELLE

It was then that I realized that Mother’s plan depended too heavily on precise timing. She wanted me to try again, of course. Strangely enough, the Fears never knew it had happened, not even the Web. But she reminded me, again and again, about her plan, told me what strings to pull.

This time, though…this time I thought I’d try something a bit different.

I did what I have done every other time. I stayed with Salesa, I spoke to you both. I followed your progress through the tapes, and when you disappeared beneath the tunnels…I acted. As I promised him, I killed him, and I took his camera. I brought it to London, to the Institute…to the Panopticon. But this time, I brought it up to the belly of the beast. I took it to the office of Jonah Magnus.

The camera wasn’t strong enough to dispel the entire Apocalypse there, of course. But it created enough of a hole to break Jonah free of the Eye’s hold.

He was as pleased to see me as you might expect. Demanded to know what I was doing there. And I told him. I told him I had come to warn him.

JON

What?!

ANNABELLE

I told him that his precious Archivist was far from resigned to this new world he had brought about, that he was coming to stop it. To stop him. I said that you were bringing Martin with you and that you had a plan, and if he wanted to continue his reign, he’d best do something to stop it.

JON

Did you have any idea what that something would be?

ANNABELLE

Patterns. Of course I knew.

Jonah would never have harmed you, even if he could have; he still hoped to get you on his side. As you learned tonight. On the other hand, he would have known, or at least guessed, that the only thing stopping you from joining him was Martin. And even if he couldn’t hope to win you over by separating you…he would at least have found a way to use that bond against you.

JON

(shouting) Martin could have died because of you!

ANNABELLE

Perish the thought! My dear Jon, do you know know how many times I’ve been through this loop?

Even when I filled him with spiders, there has never been a time you could bring yourself to harm him in the slightest, let alone kill him. Faced with a choice between letting him die or getting revenge, I knew you would save him. Of course he wouldn’t have died.

[JON SPUTTERS INDIGNANTLY]

ANNABELLE

And I made sure you had somewhere to recover. I had already nudged the Keeper towards that door.

He couldn’t have done it, of course; he was too tightly bound to the Light—not the Lonely, not the fear he watched over, but the Light itself. If it fell, so would he, and he cannot leave it for long. Even if he had come back, he would have been unable to make a difference in anyone’s past. But of course he thought of the Archivist. His godson. And when you thought Martin might be taken from you, you experienced the precise fear that summoned one of his doors—the fear of being forever separated from the one you love.

Perhaps the original plan would have worked eventually. Perhaps someday you, or Martin, or both of you, would have survived long enough to awaken in the past and remember. But I think it’s better this way, don’t you? Much more…direct.

And look how much you’ve spared the others from.

JON

The others—G-Georgie, Melanie, Basira—in, in that timeline, the one Martin and I left. Did they…what happened to them?

ANNABELLE

The Keeper and I took care of that. Don’t worry.

After he saw you safely through, I introduced myself to him and told him what needed to happen. He fetched Basira and took her to the tunnels beneath the Institute, and then I came myself. I told them what Jonah had done, what you had done, and what they needed to do.

I gave them the choice. The same one I often gave you. I told them they could either…let things stay as they were, allow things to die out in time, and keep apart from it, or end it. Take out Jonah Magnus and blow up the Institute simultaneously, and send all the Fears back in time as well—the Fears, and any of us too tightly bound up in them to survive without them.

I know you won’t believe me, Jon, but I never influenced them to make the choice they did. Basira did ask me what they usually chose, and I did tell her that I had never known them to choose anything other than one option, but I didn’t tell her what it was. I knew it would be important for you to know that, whatever they chose, it was their decision and their decision alone.

JON

(heh) I can’t imagine Melanie not choosing the option that allows her to kill Elias.

[ANNABELLE LAUGHS]

ANNABELLE

Neither can I. And she didn’t choose differently.

As I understand it, Melanie made her way up alone—being blind, of course, the fearful things on those stairs could not affect her—while Basira provided a distraction and Georgie lit the gas aflame. Melanie took the camera and aimed it at Jonah Magnus to bring him down, and then while he tried to belittle her, she stabbed him, just as the building blew.

JON

And then what happened? Did they survive?

ANNABELLE

I don’t know. But they succeeded, or I wouldn’t be here.

JON

…

How many others has the Web done this to? Tried to—manipulate into a savior?

ANNABELLE

Oh, I don’t know. Hundreds?

Most of them would have failed. Many never made it beyond her. I was one of them, actually, a child tested out but ultimately found lacking, although I was the only one I think she would have trusted with this. But you…the Mother of Puppets saw the threads of your life. So many Fears noticed you as a child that you were bound to fall afoul of one of them eventually. And as soon as she realized where Jonah Magnus’ thoughts were trending, and where they would eventually lead, she knew that you would be a perfect candidate to complete the ritual in the end.

So she chose you. She lured you in. And you resisted her pull. She knew then that you would be the only one strong enough to succeed.

JON

I only survived because someone else took my place! I would have died if he hadn’t—

ANNABELLE

My dear Jon. Has anyone meant to be claimed by a power ever actually handed away a book or an artifact willingly?

Had you been meant to be the Spinner’s in the end, Mitchell Hopkins would never have been able to take that book from you, let alone read it. Mister Spider was a test, a test that you passed.

A test I never would have.

JON

…

…Was that his name? Mitchell?

ANNABELLE

It was.

It is.

And now you know everything.

[A FEW MOMENTS OF SILENCE, SAVE THE TAPES CHITTERING IN THE BACKGROUND]

JON

I—I suppose I should be grateful that we don’t remember all of…these. All these…cobwebs.

I’m damned grateful I don’t remember—

ANNABELLE

I must admit, that was a bad one.

JON

Getting through that…it was hard enough with Martin. I don’t—I don’t see how I did it alone.

Especially after—especially knowing I—

Did I know?

ANNABELLE

…

You spent far longer at Salesa’s that time than you did any other time. In the end, I had to go with you almost all the way to London.

…Yes. You knew.

Not at the time. Not when it happened. But the Eye made sure you Knew the details in the end. You ran into Basira and she asked where Martin was—

JON

—and the Beholder forced me to describe it.

ANNABELLE

You said yourself, more than once. None of this has ever been to the benefit of humanity. Or any individual human.

JON

Or whatever I—whatever we are.

ANNABELLE

What defines a human, anyway? The limitations, or the abilities?

We can do more than what an ordinary human can. But we can still do all the things that an ordinary human can, too. We think. We feel. We love, Jon.

As far as I’m concerned, that makes us human.

JON

…Who do you love, Annabelle?

ANNABELLE

I was the first to hold him. Did you know that? I was staying with Harry and his wife while I was at university, just before I took part in that study. They wanted someone to read to him before he was born, so he would learn the stories. Harry worked late, trying to make a better life for them all, and Elizabeth…well, she was blind, so she could tell stories fine, but she wanted him to hear books too. Every night, after dinner, I’d sit and read to her belly. He came early and Harry didn’t get to the hospital in time, so after Elizabeth, I was the first one to hold him.

Harry picked out his first name because he knew I hated that book. Elizabeth softened it by picking a middle name after me, but…she always called him Charlie. I think she knew, even then.

A couple years after I became part of the Web, the Desolation took Harry, probably to spite me, but…Harry was never the one I cared about. Elizabeth, at least, died as peacefully as anybody can. It may not have been pleasant, or timely, but at least it wasn’t to serve a power. Just bad luck.

…

Get him away from that grandmother of his if you can, will you?

JON

One of us will.

ANNABELLE

That’s all I ask.

JON

Well, I—I suppose, in light of all that’s happened…it’s the least I can do.

ANNABELLE

You believe me, then?

JON

It happened. It’s over.

Whether once or a hundred times…it happened the way you said at least once. And we won. That’s enough for me.

…Yes, Annabelle Cane, I believe you.

ANNABELLE

For what it’s worth, Jon, you did all the hard work on your own. You and Martin, and…the others. In your time and this. All I did was get you here.

JON

The others…

(sharp intake of breath) Oh, God. The Unknowing. Has it—have they—I-I can’t, even if we were in the Panopticon, I couldn’t See it. But you—there, there were tapes.

Are they…?

ANNABELLE

That one. I think.

JON

You think?

ANNABELLE

It added itself to the web just before you got here. It’s either theirs or yours.

[BRIEF PAUSE, THEN THE SQUEAL OF TAPE BEFORE A RECORDING PICKS UP - FAINT CIRCUS MUSIC, THUMPS AND TAPS THAT MIGHT BE SOME KIND OF FOOTSTEP, FLOORBOARDS CREAKING, SHALLOW BREATHING, FABRIC RUSTLES]

PRESENT ARCHIVIST ON TAPE

I love you.

PRESENT MARTIN ON TAPE

I love you.

TIM ON TAPE

I love you.

Tell me when.

[DEEP BREATH]

PRESENT ARCHIVIST ON TAPE

Three…two…one…

[MORE FABRIC RUSTLES, DETONATOR CLICKS, EXPLOSION BEGINS BEFORE ABRUPTLY CUTTING OFF]

JON

Oh, God.

ANNABELLE

And to think I thought you had a terrible sense of timing.

JON

At least they said something before—

O-oh, God, Tim. Tim—you know as well as I do that in my time, he—and I—were they all in the middle of that?

ANNABELLE

More or less.

They didn’t walk into the Unknowing, at least. Martin listened to what you told him and wouldn’t let them open any doors. But it had to be blown up from the inside to be sure of getting all the charges. Your counterpart and Martin’s wouldn’t leave Tim behind, however much he tried to make them.

JON

What happened after that?

ANNABELLE

I don’t know if there is an after that yet.

JON

And we’re back to the cryptic bullshit.

ANNABELLE

On the contrary. I said exactly what I meant.

We aren’t exactly anywhere right now, or any when. This…place…I wouldn’t call it a domain, but it exists outside of both time and space. The rules are different here. Time, if it passes at all, passes differently.

They might have just pressed the detonator. They might have pressed it hours ago, or days ago.

JON

(dismayed) Days?

ANNABELLE

All I can say is that wherever, whenever they are, they are out of reach of my tapes. And your sight.

Fortunately…I know someone who can give us those answers, even from here. Maybe especially from here.

JON

Who else is here, for God’s sake?

[ANNABELLE SINGS THE NEXT LINE IN THE SAME SLOW, MEASURED VOICE AS BEFORE]

ANNABELLE

Two elephants went out to play Upon a spider’s web one day They had such enormous fun They called for another elephant to come…

[STICKY FOOTSTEPS APPROACH OVER THE TAPE WEB]

OLIVER

Hello, Jon. It is all right if I call you Jon?

JON

…Oliver? Oliver Banks?

OLIVER

In the…well. In the manifestation, I suppose. I don’t know if any of us is here in the flesh.

JON

(disbelieving laugh) You’re…not quite what I expected.

OLIVER

Is that an invitation for me to comment about how Death so rarely is what we expect, or a manifestation of you wondering why Martin would possibly be jealous of someone like me?

ANNABELLE

If you knew either of them a little better, you’d know Martin’s reasons for being jealous are almost entirely in his head.

Also, he’s never met you.

OLIVER

Mm, true. We always seemed to miss one another.

JON

You—hold on. You’re from the future as well?

OLIVER

Like you and Annabelle. Well, more like Annabelle, I suppose. You had to be the Pupil of the Eye before you were tangled enough to get dragged back with the Fears. Me? Without Terminus, I’m just…dead. And we’ve already established that that’s not where I want to be.

JON

…Did you know? When you came to the hospital?

OLIVER

That we’d done this before? Of course. I long ago stopped being surprised at what you would choose.

JON

Then for God’s sake, why—

OLIVER

Because you had to choose, Jon. It was always your choice.

Think of it as a crossroads. You stood at a fork in the road, where one path would take you back to life and the other would take you on to, well, whatever came next. The trouble was that the signposts were covered.

You could have chosen without knowing which path was which, but that’s not your way. Not when you know enough to know that one was…mm, wrong, shall we say? One would have led you where you wanted to be, one where you didn’t.

JON

I didn’t want to die.

OLIVER

There’s a difference between not wanting to die and having something to live for.

JON

(deep breath) Right, well, I definitely have something to live for, so I’ll be going now.

Uh, how do I get out of here?

OLIVER

Ordinarily? You don’t.

JON

What?!

OLIVER

This is Terminus’s realm. Well, sort of. A little pocket on the outside edge of it.

JON

Another crossroads.

OLIVER

Mm, not so much. More that you’re standing in the middle of the path.

JON

So which way is back?

OLIVER

Life is a journey traveled in one direction only.

JON

(tartly) Yes, well, so is time, but here we all are.

I’ve already chosen to live, Oliver. (with slight malice) Can I call you Oliver?

OLIVER

(not rising to the bait) This isn’t a place where you get to choose.

JON

…So you’re saying that’s it.

After all that, after everything I—everything we did…this is the end. There’s nowhere else for me to go.

ANNABELLE

How many times have you walked out of another entity’s domain? Not counting the Apocalypse. We’ve already talked about how that doesn’t count.

JON

I…twice. The Buried and the Lonely.

Three, I suppose, if that crossroads counts.

OLIVER

That was a metaphor. You were close to Death, but not its realm. If that makes sense.

JON

Not really.

ANNABELLE

The Buried and the Lonely, then.

What brought you out?

JON

From the Buried, it was the—the tapes…it was Martin putting those tapes on top of the coffin. W-weaving me a rope…or a ladder.

The Lonely was simple enough to leave. The way out was together.

ANNABELLE

With Martin.

JON

…Yes.

ANNABELLE

Exactly.

Not all strands of a spider’s web are to capture or to control, you know. Sometimes, they are simply…to anchor.

JON

…

…That’s why you offered to bind me to Martin. It wasn’t about—it wasn’t for strength or power at all.

ANNABELLE

Not to defeat Jonah Magnus, no. There’s more than one kind of strength, more than one kind of power. I did tell you that you would need it to survive what was coming.

JON

It brought Martin back when Peter Lukas visited the Archives and he almost got swallowed by the Lonely again. It—it grounded me, kept me from losing control while I was taking down Jonah.

And now…

ANNABELLE

It can guide you home.

[OLIVER LAUGHS]

OLIVER

You know, people always talk about some legendary “red string of fate”, but I’ve never actually seen a real one before.

Let alone one woven from cassette tape.

JON

You knew I had that tether from the beginning.

OLIVER

Truthfully, I didn’t think it would work. Plenty of people have things they think are tying them to life, but they aren’t strong enough to resist the pull. Most threads snap.

JON

Not this one.

I made Martin a promise. And I never break my word.

OLIVER

A good thing, when your tether is almost literally made out of your words.

JON

Ha, ha.

…Wait. B-before I go…the Unknowing. Are they—she said you would know.

OLIVER

It’s over. It worked. They brought the house down.

A lot of tormented souls set free, all at once. Quite the rush, really.

JON

The three of them—my counterpart and Martin’s and Tim. What happened to them?

[OLIVER SIGHS]

OLIVER

Two of them will be fine. Some cuts and bruises, but they’ll be up and about sooner rather than later. They might already be up and about. Time’s difficult to discern here.

The other…I suspect I’m going to need to pay a visit at some point. Clean off those signposts.

JON

Don’t wait six months.

OLIVER

I shouldn’t be more than a couple weeks behind you.

JON

…That’s less comforting than you think it is.

OLIVER

Then it must be terrifying, because I was definitely going for ominous.

[JON SIGHS…AND LAUGHS RELUCTANTLY; ANNABELLE AND OLIVER LAUGH TOO]

JON

I suppose we’ll meet again, Annabelle.

ANNABELLE

…No. No, I don’t think we will.

JON

Tired of me already?

ANNABELLE

I was watching them for you. Not just through the tapes. I was lurking in a corner of that room.

I don’t know that I made it out.

OLIVER

(gently) You didn’t, I’m afraid.

Your choices are more limited. Stay here with your web…or see what comes next.

[A SHORT PAUSE]

JON

We’ll keep the recorders going.

In case you’re still listening.

ANNABELLE

…Tell Charlie his aunt loves him very much.

JON

I will.

Oliver…don’t take this the wrong way, but if I ever see you again, it will be too soon.

OLIVER

Death always comes too soon.

JON

That was definitely not meant for that aspect of you.

OLIVER

Fair.

ANNABELLE

Have a good life, Jon.

You and Martin deserve it.

JON

If I may borrow from another…may you find your rest where no shadows are cast, and no eyes may see you slumber.

ANNABELLE

(audibly smiling) From you, Jon, that is a true blessing.

[DEEP BREATH]

JON

Right. Hold on, Martin.

I’m coming home.

[CLICK]

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #unreality tw #darkness tw #blindness tw (kinda)#manipulation tw #violence tw #explosions tw #death tw #implied mental torture tw #just...this chapter might be a Lot #the formatting's better on AO3 #holy shit I can't believe I'm almost finished

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gentlemancrow · 3 years ago

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Tagged by both @pocketsizedquasar and @distortingbones!!

1- Why did you choose your url?

I absolutely ADORE crows/ravens/corvids in general and my usernames/urls have had something to do with crows/corvids since UHHH like college-ish?? My primary one used to be "TheCrowsFeather" but then I eventually decided I liked the image of a dapper lil Crow in like... a lil top hat with a monocle and spats on his feet and GentlemanCrow sounded really cute?? Also with the added benefit of people being able to shorten it to just call me "Crow" online and I liked that too!

2- Any side blogs?

Nooooot really? I have one set aside for my original works of fiction but since I don't have too terribly much written I don't actually use it?? AKSJhfajsf

3- How long have you been on tumblr?

OH crap uhhh I think I made this blog originally in summer 2011?? I used it pretty extensively/primarily until about 2016ish when most of my friends gravitated toward Tw*tter instead. So there's a gap there! I picked it back up this past summer to ravenously consume TMA content and post my fan fics since this seemed to be the place where the most fan content for that series lived, so here I am again! :>

4- Do you have a queue tag?

QUEUE WHAT'S A QUEUE I DON'T KNOW HER.

5- Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Honestly my friends bullied me into it I had literally no idea what it was or what to post BUT I GOT THE HANG OF IT AKJHFSKS.

6- Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

OH THAT UHHHH. Shit I've had that for literal YEARS now it was a cute little simplified face picrew type thing and my best friend and I made matching birbs! They don't use tumblr anymore, but it's still cute so I just haven't bothered to change it lmao!

7- Why did you choose your header?

I will forever laugh at the joke/pun of two crows together being an attempted murder, so I just found a picture with the text already on it and slapped it up there ffffft

8-What’s your post with the most notes?

I have 2 that INEXPLICABLY BLEW UP back in the day This one about Big Hero 6 And this one about getting a refund on adulthood

Both of which were typed up on a whim when I was having emotions and I still have no clue why they blew up the way they did :T

9- How many mutuals do you have?

Wait this is a thing you can know?? Like is there a way to find out other than counting the lil green icon dealies?? CAUSE YEAH NO CLUE

10- How many followers do you have?

UM 681 but that list is inaccurate due to my VERY long absence from tumblr I'm ABSOLUTELY certain at least half of those blogs have been abandoned/don't exist anymore ahah >> It's probably closer to like... 50-100 or so given the count I have accrued posting TMA stuff and ones that are still active?

11- How many people do you follow?

691! But again a LOT of those are probably dead!

12- Have you ever made a shitpost?

Maybe? What counts as a shitpost these days anyway :T

13- How often do you use Tumblr each day?

I have a very reliable scroll through my dash at about 5:50 am after my alarm clock goes off and I'm trying to be awake enough to actually leave bed! Then usually I'll scroll through a little on my prep period at work, then I'll just casually have it open in the BG in the evening while I write/watch TV etc

14- Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

No?? I am neither important nor influential enough to have quarreled with anyone on the tumblr dot coms

15- How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

NEXT. Tho honestly I don't see them like ever except to mention how shitty they are? I must follow the right people fffft

16- Do you like tag games?

OH YES! I almost NEVER get tagged in them though so this was absolutely a treat ; w ;

17- Do you like ask games?

OH HELL YES PLEASE ALWAYS SEND ME ASKS FOR ASK GAMES I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 🥺

18-Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

UHHHH... I honestly have no clue? Maybe not Tumblr famous but maybe a few of them are fandom famous?? AGAIN I AM BUT A SMOL AND HUMBLE BIRB WITH A TINY FOLLOWING AKSJHFDKAS

19- Do you have a crush on a mutual?

DEFINITELY NOT NO AKJSFHKASJHFKASJ

Oh balls um this is the hard part tagging someone IF YOU WERE ALREADY TAGGED SO SORRY but maybe @bowtiesandfireflies @clarionglass @lucky-numberme and also just if you see this on your dash and you wanna do it consider yourself also tagged by me! ; w ;

THANKS FOR TAGGING ME GUYS <3

#Crow Caws #Tag game

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pomrania · 5 years ago

Text

TMA Entities as Normal Horoscopes

(To clarify, the Entities from The Magnus Archives, as represented by horoscopes from @normal-horoscopes. Entities presented in alphabetical order, horoscopes in the order that I found them.)

BEHOLDING

Libra: Your eye for detail is one of your most defining traits! Most people only have two general purpose eyes.

Gemini: Unleash your curiosity upon an unforgiving world and dissect everything you are afraid of with an olive fork until you understand it so well it can’t scare you anymore.

Pisces: You are the last one still awake. What are you still doing up? This late at night, with only one pair of eyes. You might see something you weren’t supposed to.

Gemini: You’ll have to throw out or donate most of your novelty t-shirts when you awake to find several bonus eyes hovering around you in elliptical orbits.

Sagittarius: Careful not to blunt those sharp eyes on an unforgiving task. Passion for learning is all well and good, but you’re venturing into uncharted territory that may contain things that want your eyes.

Gemini: Most of us have spare eyes. You have far too many.

Taurus: I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. Wait, watched isn’t the right word. Watched and something else.

Cancer: Quit your peeping. Something is looking back at you.

BURIED

Virgo: The weight of the world will crush you into a diamond.

Virgo: Your horoscope today is just dust. That’s it. Buncha dust.

Libra: Pressure can be an excellent motivator in the right amount. Also, they meant social pressure, doing paperwork in a deep-sea diving bell will not improve the quality of your work.

Gemini: From dust to dust. You came from the earth and she wants you back.

Taurus: Cave buddies.

Capricorn: Spend some time huffing large amounts of dust to make your insides dustier.

Scorpio: As you lay on your back, head tilted to an uncaring sky, the very earth whispered to you. She reached up her hands and fingers and you gave her everything you could. Sleep now. Mother is here.

Taurus: It goes far deeper than you imagine. Talk about it.

Cancer: You’ve come across something you should not have interrupted. Run. Run now. Go, or the very earth will swallow you whole.

Scorpio: Your natural drive and ambition will lead you to some interesting places! Who knew a person could even fit in that small a hole?

CORRUPTION

Aries: Live in the level of filth that is comfortable to you. Just make sure you are practicing self-love.

Pisces: You will see a cool picture of a plague doctor this week. Hell yeah.

Pisces: Growth is simply growth. Gardens and cancers alike.

Ophiuchus: When she awoke to see the infection had taken her shoulder she did the only sensible thing. She cut off her own head. She holds it by the hair in her left hand.

Ophiuchus: Worms in your brain. Worms in your brain. There are very helpful worms in your brain.

Gemini: The discomfort you can’t seem to shake is likely due to the large nest of bees that have made its home inside your ribs.

Ophiuchus: The value of today’s fortune depends heavily on your opinion of rot.

Virgo: The position of Mars says the virus is spreading and soon you will be reborn ascendant to join in the virulent bacchanalia.

Leo: We can only hate what we see in ourselves. Consider that you may be full of mosquitoes.

Aquarius: A lavish and ostentatious estate. Empty and bare because the previous occupants couldn’t stomach a little plague. Wimps.

Aries: When she touched you she laid several eggs in your skin. Free babes! Nice.

Ophiuchus: Having trouble in an academic setting? Try lying down in a field and letting insects use their tiny voices to whisper the secrets of the world to you.

DARK

Scorpio: A ray of night from the clouds will darken the banks of the river. Look only. Touch nothing.

Capricorn: The massive black roadrunner that followed your car through Utah. You didn’t say a word the whole night.

Leo: When you see the black, many eyed owls, immediately turn around and snuff out any lights. Your light up sneakers will have to go. Sacrifices must be made.

Aries: Take their hand. They will guide you into the night. Finding your own way out will be its own task. Feel as your heart starts to quicken.

Pisces: There is so much the world has to offer. So much beyond this fervor. Steady your hands and rest in the gentle dark.

Leo: The Diminutive Beings of Shadow and Dread are raccoons. They are raccoons. Close your trash cans.

Aries: You visibly absorb light from the area around you, consider medication.

Leo: Something moves soundlessly through your neighborhood, avoiding the streetlights. Check on your pets.

Pisces: The night is a blanket over all of us. There is fear and comfort in the privacy of the dark.

DESOLATION

Scorpio: As much as the stars and I admire your zeal, human hair candles will not catch on.

Taurus: Ensure your friends sit next to you by burning all other chairs and eating the ashes to hide your trickery.

Virgo: Fire is a powerful cleansing force, but that doesn’t make arson legal. The one thing fire cannot purify is the law.

Gemini: It absolutely could hurt to try. Pain is just pain.

Aries: Today your horoscope involves fire and children. The stars wouldn’t clarify anything past that.

Ophiuchus: A chapel made from old shipping containers. The priest is setting herself on fire for the third time in the sermon.

Cancer: It will not actually solve anything, but you can put your problems into perspective by setting everything on fire.

Capricorn: You’ll look back on all of it and wish it to be burned. Start the fire as soon as possible.

Libra: Watch the fire dance between your fingers. You only have so long.

END

Aries: Look buddy, only one of us can leave this pumpkin festival alive, and I’m already dead.

Gemini: What’s the rush? Nothing has happened but you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, you can feel your eyes dilate. Literally nothing has changed but your body seems convinced that you are going to die any second.

Scorpio: No sense in arguing over the supposed opinions of a dead man. Dig him up and ask him why don’t you? It’s a once in a lifetime chance.

Sagittarius: Today you will be legally dead for about 140 seconds but you’ll come back with a complementary mint.

Leo: After selling your soul to the devil, the sheer negative value of your soul will crash the soul market, causing the dead to walk again.

Ophiuchus: The only permanent state of being is death and even that’s debatable.

Pisces: A good strategy here is to simply refuse to die.

Aquarius: Fuck it. Carry a scythe around. Who even gives a shit.

Capricorn: Statistically, there is a chance that something you do today, however small, will lead to the death of an innocent.

Ophiuchus: Death is only the beginning. The beginning of not being alive anymore.

Aries: Your obsession with death will be satisfied. Eventually.

FLESH

Ophiuchus: Have yourself a feast and invent a new catholic saint to justify it.

Taurus: The stars say to get of your high horse and quit genetically engineering horses to have such legs. Horses are poorly designed as they are. It’s irresponsible.

Aries: Your newfound ability to scale a brick wall in seconds flat is kinda scary. Your bones make weird noises and everything. Try not to do it around kids.

Virgo: Do you know what flavor you are Virgo? Well get ready to find out!

Capricorn: You know Capricorn, you’re really one or two big steps away from being a sausage.

Leo: There will be a distinct element of aggression to your emotions today, specifically towards chefs that are a member of the ancient secret society of cannibals who just murdered your science teacher.

Taurus: Money troubles Taurus? Try growing new bones and selling them to bone farmers for extra cash. If you get good enough at it, you can use wholesalers.

Sagittarius: Fear not, there is pulled pork aplenty for those with the courage to seek it.

Virgo: There is a mad little part of our heads that looks at a meat cleaver and says “just chop your hand off”. Don’t listen to that bit. It's a prick and it owes me $120.

Pisces: Your body is not a temple, it is a river. A river made of meat and blood and stuff.

HUNT

Aquarius: Speak softly, carry a big stick, hide a gun inside the stick just in case the bastard is outside of stick range.

Pisces: If you are being chased by something unearthly, go for the selfie. Life is short, especially when you are being chased by something unearthly.

Aries: Nothing evil stalks the forest. The wild is bigger than you could ever imagine. You are nothing to it. No skinwalker or boogeyman or revenant could ever aspire to the persistence and hunger of the wild untamed.

Leo: Allow fear to inform you. To accept fear as sovereign is sin against the self. Fear is very correct about the large hungry mammal chasing you. Run.

Aquarius: Those assassins from the meat of the month club have finally found your new address and are planting the explosives as you read this.

Scorpio: Dreams of chasing smaller weaker things through the woods. Waking aching to remember. You will remember soon.

Sagittarius: The hunt is on! No starbucks will escape your horn-blessed gaze.

Scorpio: You will get into a fight. Go on a quest for revenge. And know the true visceral feeling of the hunt.

Virgo: The blissful are being sold a lie. The only true bliss is the glory of the hunt and a slaked bloodlust.

Pisces: Nothing gets the panties wet like the sound of hundreds of spectral mounts crashing through moonlit woods while the call of the hunt echoes among the trees, striking fear into the hearts of your ghastly quarry.

LONELY

Ophiuchus: You can’t stop feeling just one thing. Stuffing down one emotion means stuffing down them all.

Aquarius: You may be stunned to find that the introduction of a new person into your life will make you less lonely.

Taurus: Spend some time outdoors today. Reflect on the state of the world. See yourself reflected in the world and try to fight the other person who is interrupting your reflection time.

Aquarius: Do you remember the seaside? That strip of sand that made you feel at home? Do you remember how quiet it was?

Virgo: Remember Virgo, you can click the control stick to go into stealth mode. Use this to avoid your problems easier.

Aries: You are beyond the pale, transparent really.

Taurus: It's not fog. It's a curse. A curse that looks like fog. Stay away.

Cancer: The stars and I regret to tell you that you will, actually, have to talk to people at some point.

SLAUGHTER

Capricorn: Some things cannot be prepared for. Who even uses flintlock pistols anymore? Especially in the parking lot of a grocery store?

Pisces: There is a number of knives that it is appropriate to own. It is quite high. Let’s say you need to curate your collection.

Pisces: Romantic bloodsport for two.

Leo: Nobody really cares that you’re not one for fighting. Preparation is its own reward.

Leo: Having trouble with your customers at work? Strike the head for critical damage!

Aries: When things seem confusing, just start swinging at whoever you see. At the very least, you’ll get some breathing room.

Capricorn: It may be that you fight for good, and your opponent fights for a love of bloodshed, all that matters is that you are fighting.

Virgo: Ruthless efficiency produces results but blind rage is more fun.

SPIRAL

Libra: Drawings of wildflowers that don’t exist. Diagrams and advice in a language that nobody speaks. Strewn about your room in impossible places.

Capricorn: Reject the concept of direction. There is no up, there is no down. Orientation is for losers.

Sagittarius: You are correct Sagittarius! That small wooden carving of a fox wasn’t there last night! Yes, it is cursed! Right on the money there.

Capricorn: There is no old woman following you around throwing small potted plants at you.

Scorpio: Relieve stress by planning a trip that isn’t a trip to a place that isn’t a place. Relieve stress by conceiving of time collapsed into a single semipermeable plane of events that anchors all the things that could be.

Leo: When the world stops making sense, play with the perspective. Go Escher on your problem’s ass.

Taurus: Two strangers meet in a Mediterranean country that does not exist. They discuss silver and poison and the nature of madness.

STRANGER

Aquarius: You are never done growing. It takes real effort, and for you, it will take many hours of prowling around the backs of hardware stores for stray screws to eat.

Libra: There is something in the wires practicing its voices by leaving spam calls in your inbox.

Sagittarius: Whoops! Something stole your friend’s face again! Get that ritual dagger and get to work.

Capricorn: Well lookee what we go here, a full shipment of mannequins that look exactly like you except with minor errors in body part proportions. Whoda thunk?

Sagittarius: Enough improvements and you’ll barely recognize yourself. Harvest the parts and avoid the authorities.

Cancer: If you’re gonna copy other people, don’t half-ass it. Ritual cannibalism is the only way to go.

Ophiuchus: The creepy carnival set up outside of town that only certain people can see is not to be trusted, not matter how cool the rollercoaster looks.

Cancer: She’s a fake bitch. Literally, she has a heart of clockwork and armored skin made of porcelain. Even unholy things like her shouldn’t gossip though.

Taurus: Beware the almost. The almost real, the almost breathing, the almost human.

Virgo: Keep a close eye on the puppets. One of them has no strings.

VAST

Aries: The stars say you may find yourself falling from a great height. Remember to tuck and roll.

Virgo: Do not look down. There is nothing beneath you. Carry on with your day as if the world is sensible and solid beneath you, and it will follow suit.

Aries: The storm sirens wail, the sound of colossal footsteps thunder closer. A low mournful sound that seems to crack the sky.

Pisces: Today you might fall into a bottomless pit. This is not a metaphor.

Aries: Ever feel under the weather? You are lightning.

Aquarius: You can also see the stars if you’re not in a gutter.

Leo: A man on the roof of his home during a tornado warning, laughing.

Aries: The world seems to be getting smaller and smaller. One day you will be confronted with the magnitude of it all. The vast unexplored deep. The wild unknown, and all those that would build a home in its bosom.

Aries: The space between two mountains in the distance. The sky looks different. You can hear the beating of colossal wings.

Aquarius: Your desire for human contact can be satisfied by being struck by lightning for some reason.

WEB

Capricorn: Today you will finally locate and kill the college student with a writing credit on your life.

Capricorn: The stars say to make friends with the harvestmen in your bathroom. They are helping clean up all the lil bug corpses and would appreciate some recognition.

Aquarius: It’s time to make a nest. Don’t ask questions. No thought, only nest.

Gemini: You’ve got a productive day in store Gemini. Will it be on something you actually want to do? Let’s say there is some minor will enslavement involved.

Aquarius: You’ve done an excellent job so far of making friends with the spider people that live in the abandoned subway tunnels. Keep it up!

Gemini: People are depending on you to uphold your promises. The last thing you want to be known as is a trickster. Or is it? That’s exactly the sort of thing a trickster would do!

Leo: You are a puppet, you know exactly who is pulling the strings.

Libra: A tiny spider who has made a friend.

Ophiuchus: The spider lady would like her copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends back.

Aries: See how the cobwebs catch the light? Be sure to thank the spiders.

And some others that didn't necessarily fit with a particular Entity, but gave off such strong TMA vibes that I had to include them anyways:

Gemini: This week you will be faced with your greatest challenge yet, a twink with massive burn scars.

Libra: Preserve yourself for all eternity by outsourcing your aging to other people.

Pisces: One man’s panic inducing siren-song is what another man uses to fall asleep.

Virgo: Confused? Do not worry. Everything not saved will be lost.

Taurus: This week should be one of experimentation! Push the boundaries of what it means to be mortal!

Capricorn: Answer the Door.

Scorpio: Tomorrow will be the last time you dream of the crown of teeth.

Cancer: The thing that watches over the prison transport ships. It used to be two things but now they share a spine.

Aries: Trust your instincts Aries, your dead wife does have a new form made of dried paint and she is slowly hunting you.

Taurus: They died when the radio tower was bombed. Sometimes you can hear them sending messages before the sun rises, whispering over the unused channels.

Virgo: Your capacity for learning will come in handy today when you smash your head through an old Apple II and download the entire internet into your brain, along with several shards of glass.

Libra: Look, nobody said it would be easy, but at least now you’re suffering for something you love.

Pisces: There is a hole in the world where you cannot see, and through this hole there seeps the things that can never be.

Scorpio: Sometimes being too oblivious to even notice a problem can be an asset. Can’t sweat the small stuff if you don’t even notice it.

Libra: Financial problems? Try encasing your credit cards in a block of ice. Encase all money in a block of ice. Keep all wealth frozen in a block of ice.

Ophiuchus: Maybe your prayers would be answered if your god wasn’t such a pussy.

Gemini: Limited options make choices easier! There are only so many places you can get a human heart!

Taurus: Remember, now matter how many false eyes something might have, at least one of them has to be real. It boils down to a question of bullets over time.

Libra: When others can’t decide, you will be there to make the tough choices with your brave disregard for things like “Rational Thought” and “Basic Self-preservation”.

Virgo: Ribs are important. Make sure you have a good grasp on the importance of ribs.

Pisces: Your constant near death experiences may be putting you under some stress. Time for some light reading, or maybe some breathing exercises. Honestly the stars say you’re handling constantly being faced with your own mortality pretty well.

Aries: After hearing that cursed song today, you’ll only destroy 80% of the objects around you. Recovery is a slow process.

Cancer: There is an aggression to you today. There is an aggression to you all the time. There is an aggression to all things, it is simply your turn on the wheel.

Leo: The hunger you feel is not for food.

Capricorn: Woo her. She is terrifying isn’t she?

Gemini: You are hunting the guy down seven years later and bashing his knees in with a pipe.

Capricorn: What happens when you open a door marked “exit” and all you find is another hallway?

Ophiuchus: Nothing makes a friendship like shared intense suffering.

Taurus: Analog recording devices are surprisingly sensitive. Listen to your old tapes again and hear the tiny voices that whisper along with the song.

Taurus: Clawing your way back out has dulled your talons and blunted your fangs, you are a soft and gentle creature for it. You can buy a knife at most stores.

Sagittarius: When you needed patience, you thought of those who loved you. When you needed fury, you thought of those who hurt you. When you needed strength, you thought of yourself. When you needed just one more chance to get it right, you thought of that cat.

Libra: Keep a journal and write down everything you see, it may save the life of whoever finds it.

Libra: Did you feel it? Just now, the world ended. There's no going back. Saddle up and find a mask.

Leo: The night is long, the tea is hot, the eyes are plenty.

Ophiuchus: Your eyes can’t lie to you if you don't have any eyes.

Aries: Now is the time to try new things! Experience new forms of pain! Suffer in new and interesting ways!

Cancer: Someone is missing from that big social meeting you’ve got planned! Luckily they were just preoccupied with being suspended in limbo between life and death.

Libra: If someone says they have power over you, don't believe them until you see for yourself. Test those limits.

Aquarius: The danger you pose to others is dwarfed by your ability and desire to help. Nothing is without its dangers. You know this more than anyone.

Taurus: Turn some of your energy towards improving the space around you, especially if the space around you is bad and the energy is heat. Burn your house down.

Virgo: The stars say an authority member might be causing you some minor trouble. The important thing to remember during professional squabbles is to use your psychic powers to rip them apart with the strength of your will alone.

Taurus: It's a tough thing, allowing yourself to be known. The stars say the time may be coming up, are you ready? Too bad fucko, it's happening anyway.

Ophiuchus: Hiding under the covers actually works with some things. It is technically a threshold and so some things do actually have to be invited.

Cancer: Watch for a box that carries no address. Do not open it. It will be gone tomorrow.

Ophiuchus: Your choices are yours alone. This is important to remember, especially when not making choices.

Scorpio: Goddamit Goddamit shut the fuck up and tell a story.

Sagittarius: That could be you in a few years. Keep your feet about you.

Gemini: There is a deep and old power in that of the image. As long as cameras existed they have been a tool to tell what is really there.

#fandom: magnus archives #not a reblog

548 notes · View notes

theotpauthor · 4 years ago

Text

Hi! This is my gift for @kbaycolt for the @tma-valentines-exchange this year! You requested JonSasha and I hope you like it!

“Jon!” a voice called, making him startle. He put down the can of soup he had been looking at and glanced down the aisle.

“I didn’t know you went to this grocery store,” his boss, Sasha, said happily. She was tugging along one of those hand held baskets, packed with some fruits and veggies.

“It’s the closest to my apartment,” Jon replied, “so it’s convenient. I thought you lived further out though?”

“I do,” she admitted easily, “but the produce section in my normal grocers is complete garbage. Half of the time they’re only a couple days from rotting.”

“Unpleasant.”

“Indeed. Especially after that last batch of statements. But while you’re here—would you mind staying after hours tomorrow? I have a non-work related favor to ask, but it’ll take a bit of time to explain and we both look a bit busy at the moment.”

“Ah—” If it was anyone else Jon would have said no easily, or at least fumbled his way through an excuse, but this was his boss, and (though she hadn’t meant any cruelty by it) one of their first conversations had been her laying out, quite explicitly, his complete lack of credentials for his job. That was six months ago, and they had both grown closer as a unit in the archives, but he still felt an underlying need to prove that he was worthy of his job. He desperately wanted her to think he was competent, and refusing to help her was just another way of saying he wasn’t capable of doing so. “Of course.”

“Thank you!” Sasha said with a grin. “I know this is a little out of nowhere, but it’s nothing too bad, I promise. I’ve gotta run now, but I’ll see you on Monday!”

. . . o0o . . .

“You wanted to see me?” Jon said, peering into Sasha’s office. He tapped his fingers together at his side and hope she didn’t notice; he still wasn’t sure what the issue was and his nerves had steadily increased since their meeting at the supermarket.

“Ah, yes,” Sasha nodded. “Here, come in, sit down.” He did. “Well, easiest to tear the bandaid off quickly I suppose. Will you pretend to date me so Tim gives up on me?”

This was—not what Jon had been expecting. He hadn’t really had set expectations in the first place, besides something probably professional, and this was far from that.

“Has Tim been . . . making you uncomfortable?” Jon asked, eyebrows crinkled in confusion and a hint of worry, but Sasha was shaking her head before he got the chance to finish.

“Oh no, nothing like that. Tim is a good guy. He’s just . . . the type to hold out hope, you know? We had a brief fling and he keeps trying to make it more. And the only way to get him to move on genuinely instead of pretending is to convince him that there’s no use waiting for me to change my mind.”

“Huh,” Jon said speculatively. “He hadn’t struck me as particularly romantic. At least, not in that way.”

“So, will you do it?”

Jon hesitated. He remembered working with Tim before, and though Jon had acted as prickly as ever, it had never seemed to bother him. They hadn’t quite gotten to a level that Jon would call friends, but they had been getting there before Jon’s transfer to Archives.

“Won’t this hurt him? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you’re actually in a relationship?”

“Ideally, but I don’t want him to be pining over me for who knows how long before I find my person. He’s my friend, and I don’t want him to miss out on someone because he was too busy wanting something that will never happen.”

“. . . And as for hurting him?”

“A necessary evil.” Sasha pursed her lips. She had known Jon and Tim were friends, but she hadn’t been sure how deep the bond had been on Jon’s end. She still wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt her scheme. “Look, I don’t like it either. But he’s going to get hurt at some point, and I’d rather have it be short and—well, not sweet really—than long and drawn out. This’ll be better in the long run.” She stared at Jon, and wiped her hands nervously on her pants. “Will you do it? I know this might be a bit weird since I’m your boss but—”

“I—no, I’ll—I’ll do it. But we’re going to need to work out the logistics. I mean, Tim knows both of us. We can’t just be dating out of nowhere.”

Sasha grinned, relief flooding over her. Her teeth shone.

“I’ve already made a plan. You could come over my place so we could talk about it? Figured it’d be better to discuss it here than in a more public place.”

. . .

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Jon said, blinking slightly. In front of him were various papers, all tacked up onto a corkscrew board, describing different versions of how they could have started dating, their various dates, and more. It might have been creepy, except for the fact that Sasha was a constant overplanner, and he was somewhat surprised she hadn’t simply told him a backstory she had created.

“I was trying to find something realistic that still wouldn’t hurt Tim too badly,” Sasha admitted, chewing on her lip as she glanced over the various papers. Jon noticed for the first time that her concealer had slipped, and she had bags under her eyes.

“Are his feelings that strong?”

“It’s not that they’re strong,” Sasha said slowly, trying to think of how to say it. “It’s that they’re constant. Tim acts flippant but once he cares about people, it’s very hard for him to stop.”

That hadn’t been the impression that Jon had gotten, but Jon had only known him for a couple months before his transfer, and Sasha had known him since university, so he was willing to assume she knew better in this case.

“That aside,” Sasha said, “I say we figure out the most awkward part first and get it out of the way. When did we first have sex?”

“We didn’t,” Jon said dryly. “I’m asexual, and not particularly prone to PDA either.”

Sasha paused for a moment, readjusting her plans with the new information.

“Well, we still need to act comfortable around each other. We don’t need to go making out in back corners of a club or anything, but couples usually have an ease around each other.” She smiled over at him, teasing. “Unless hand holding is too scandalous?”

“Haha,” Jon rolled his eyes. “No, that’s—fine. I know I’m agreeing to this, but I just didn’t want you to think that—er, that is, I—”

“Jon,” Sasha cut in gently. She thought of placing her hand on his knee before thinking better of it. “Even if we were dating, no string attached, I would never make you do something you didn’t want to. Sure, I like hooking up with people, but in the list of things I couldn’t live without, sex doesn’t even reach the top twenty.”

“Oh.” Jon’s face went pink. He coughed. “Ah, well, right then. Glad that’s sorted.”

“Yes, though we definitely need to discuss more about how we started dating . . . “

. . .

Jon looked at the address Sasha had texted him again, checking for the countless time that it was right. Tim was throwing a small house party, and he was Sasha’s date. He had offered to pick her up, but Sasha hadn’t even given the idea a thought before saying no.

“It’s quicker for both of us if we just meet there,” she had said over the phone. Jon wasn’t much of a talker, but Sasha had insisted on using phones rather than texts that anyone could read later. “and I would that to anyone I was dating too. Actually caused some issues in the past, but I never got what the difference between ten minutes was.”

So Jon was in front of Tim’s house by himself, and trying to convince himself that walking up to the door and knocking was not nearly as hard as it felt. It was only when he started considering waiting for Sasha outside that he pushed himself out of it and forced his legs to move.

“Hey Jo—woah,” Tim said as he opened the door, face going slack in surprise before his grin was back, “I’ve never seen you in casual clothes. Feels like I’m breaking the law.”

“Haha,” Jon said, rolling his eyes. He glanced down at his clothes—he had the foresight to stay away from his old college clothes, but honestly his outfit wasn’t much. Just an old t-shirt from a band he used to follow and a pair of jeans. Sasha had warned him not to be too formal, and he had tried to follow that advice. “I do, actually, have a life outside of work.”

He didn’t, really, but Tim didn’t need to know that.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Tim said. “Casual looks good on you. Come in.”

After a couple minutes of small talk and being introduced to Tim’s friends, he found himself sitting on the couch next to Tim.

“So you and Sasha, huh?”

Jon felt his cheeks warm and was glad his darker skin made it hard for people to tell. If he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t have known Tim had feelings for her at all.

“If you’re going to interrogate him, you could at least wait until I’m here,” Sasha cut in, and Jon felt himself relax. He wasn’t good at lying, and her easy grin made the whole farce seem more believable.

“What’s the fun in that?” Tim shot back, laughing. “And did you pick the lock? I don’t remember you knocking.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sasha grinned.

“Hellion,” Tim said. “A complete and utter hellion.” He turned to Jon, whispering in a way that was meant to be heard. “Run away before you have to change all your locks.”

“Leave my boyfriend alone,” Sasha rolled her eyes.

“. . . I don’t see how changing locks would do anything if she can pick them?” Jon replied honestly, trying to wrap his head around the logistics of it. His blunt, honest tone made the other two laugh, which hadn’t been his intention, but was workable.

“So you two are official then? I have to say that I am betrayed that neither of you told me earlier.” His words were overly dramatic, as was the way he threw his hand over his heart, but Jon had a feeling there was a kernel of truth in them.

“We didn’t want to tell anyone. I’m his boss, and his transfer was so sudden that we didn’t want people to think the wrong thing.”

Sasha and Tim talked a bit longer, with Jon occasionally chiming in. It was obvious that the two had known each other for a long time; there was an ease in their teasing and back and forth that was almost enviable. It was easy to see why Tim’s feelings hadn’t faded before.

Eventually Tim was called away by a different one of his friends, leaving Sasha and Jon alone.

Sasha’s shoulders relaxed, and suddenly Jon felt guilty for not doing more in their little ruse. He should have put more effort in—but he couldn’t exactly apologize with people still around, so he pushed it down and made a note to apologize later.

“God,” Sasha muttered, “this would be so much easier if he realized how Martin looked at him.”

“Martin?” Jon asked, and she startled.

“Yes,” she said recovering, “the poor bastard is completely besotted, but turned Tim down for a hookup, and in Tim’s mind that means he could never be interested in a date either.”

“Ah,” Jon said, seemingly confused.

“Martin is romantic,” Sasha explained, “but Tim has never been in a relationship that hasn’t started off as purely sexual. But if they got past that hurdle I think they’d actually be a cute couple.”

“If Tim is a fan of constantly having stray animals in his house, then that’s his taste I suppose. Don’t get it myself.”

Sasha snorted.

“Martin apologized how many times about letting that dog in?”

“Not enough.”

“You know, he’s not that bad of a person. You might like him if you gave him a chance.”

“Doubtful,” Jon said dryly. “But we aren’t in the same department, so small mercies I suppose.”

“Ah yes, god forbid you have to work with anything less than complete competence.”

“Well, you’ve set the bar rather high,” Jon responded, the complete honesty in his voice making her blink, pleased. She was more used to teasing back and forth, but there was something nice about not feeling like she was in a competition.

Other people milled about, and they had various conversations with people that Jon immediately had forgotten the names of. At one point, drawing came up, and Jon went into a tirade about the evolution of crayons and other drawing materials as if he had a degree in it. There was a slight crinkle in between his brows, and his hands moved as he talked—different from the usual stiff, purposefully scowling persona he carried at work. Sasha stared, surprised.

Then she smiled, not thinking about it as she reached out and held his hand. He paused, seemingly only half aware of it. He glace at their hands, eyes lighting up slightly, before continuing, this time only gesturing with one hand, though she felt the other twitch in her hands at times.

. . .

The next Monday at work, the atmosphere was not awkward the way Jon had feared. It was incredibly easy to go back into the familiar patterns of researching statements that were patently fake. He had yet to find a single one that was true. Sasha felt the same way but said that this was as good a job as any other, and he agreed.

Once they both clocked out, Sasha asked Jon if they could talk.

“Did Tim believe it?” Jon asked. She nodded.

“You might not believe it, but he doesn’t normally drink quite that much. But I saw Martin watching over him and making sure he was alright, so I think he’ll be okay.”

“That’s good,” Jon said. There was a pause. “I know that you said it would just be one date, but I was thinking—” He stopped, knowing what he wanted to say but unsure of how to.

“Ah, well,” Sasha hadn’t expected to say this, had thought it would be a one and done sort of deal, but before she can think her words through, she adds, “It might be suspicious if we’re only together once. Tim might think that it’s just—just a fling.”

“Of course,” Jon said just a second too quickly. “Tim isn’t dumb, if we go back to acting as friends, he’ll realize something was up.”

“We’ll have to continue,” Sasha said in relief. “So he believes it.”

“So he believes it,” Jon echoed, and they shared a happy smile.

“He invited me to drinks this weekend with some friends if—”

“I’ll be there.” Jon stopped, flushing slightly as he backtracked. “Ah, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Don’t worry about it. So it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

#tma #sasha james #jonathan sims #jonsasha #tim stoker

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