#jmart fantasy au

[jcryptid]

Once upon the misty moors...

... there lived a lonely young man, living simply with his mother as many did in a small house in a village on the domain of their lord in Greymoor.

Not much can be said of those early years, not much this young man would have wanted to repeat that bore mentioning at least. All that can be said was that one day his mother fell ill, and with the rumoured sightings of a strange woman in a red skirt, face hidden by a cloak and smelling of death, bringing with her to his door nothing more than rake whilst he was away...they should have known there was nothing that could be done.

But that certainly didn't stop him from trying though. Working hard and long each day on their farm and on the properties surrounding it. Selling their only cow, their chickens and what little of value they could spare to afford the herbs that could ease her pain, only to return to scorn and stubborness in her delirium with a soft smile on his face as he tended to her, nevertheless.

All the same it didn't change her fate. Nor the fate of the lonely young man, now adrift and lost without much in the way of direction.

Untill at least, he was approached one misty afternoon by their Local Lord of Greymoor, who spoke to him with hollow geniality, and offered him a job as a servant in his castle.

And so, with nothing in the way of excuse to prevent him from doing so, he accepted. And soon, Martin Blackwood found himself selling what was little was left of his mother's small slice of domesticity in Greymoor, and like so many others was whisked away to live and work at the feet of their lord. Bouncing between fetching food from the kitchens or fixing pots of tea; setting kindling alight to warm cold rooms that made your breath fog up if left to themselves too long; keeping clean what he could when he was ordered and keeping his head down whenever he could.

All the same he found something of a friend in that castle more than once, and had to himself the gift of an extra hour each day to sneak away and write poetry on a little rock in the shade of a willow tree by the loch. One of the few things he could say was truly his.

Of course even setting aside the whispered legends of the figure of pestilance that had taken his mother, Greymoor, just like the other lands just on the other side of the Deep Wood, was no stranger to monsters of its own. So much so that despite the dissmissals and denials of their Lordship for as long as anyone can remember, there have always been the mists.

Not much is known, as with any of the beings that creep along the shadows of rumors and heresay and children torn from their beds before they can so much as scream. What can be said, was that at least once a year, maybe more than once, should someone be caught out too late at the wrong time, they would find themselves lost to the mists. Alone and forever wandering between a state of life and death to wither away as nothing more than ghosts on that very same moorland from which they dissapeared.

And so it was, that after a time of keeping his head down and doing what he was told, Martin would one night find himself staying out a little too late by the loch into nightfall; and in doing so soon found himself running into one of his fellow servants, a woman named Naomi Herne; who'd go on to explain, had been sent on orders from Lukas to pick berries under the cover of moonlight from the nearby woods (having found his supplies empty of such fruits despite the supply run they'd made just earlier that day).

Of course, finding the request rather unreasonable given the dangers of ventering out too late into the night by one's self, he offered to help her in her task, and not too long after, the two ran afoul of the mists, and knowing the legends, and hearing the whispers on the gentle wind that only one of their number need be lost, handed the only stubborn flame that hadn't gone dark to Naomi, and told her to run back to the Lord's castle.

Naomi, despite her hesistance to leave her only companion in the misty darkness, complied, and ran back with their only light to the Castle in a panic and raised all the nearby servants she could from their posts to come and help him. Immediately, despite the fear, a few rose to help her. Some stepping in to calm her down and ascertain what had happened, a few of the others grabbing their coats and lighting lanterns to aid in the search, despite their fears and the insistence of a few that there was nothing that could be done. But not a foot had breached the doorway when their Lord and employer Lukas stepped into the room and forbade them from going. Demanding they stay and not risk themselves catching a cold or getting lost in the dark. Ordering them wait and do nothing more than pray that by morning Martin found his way back to them on his own time.

No one beleived he would of course. The mists were like that you see. Those who wandered too far would never return to them, they never had.

And then, three days later, Martin returned to them.

Stumbling up the grassy hill just as the sun was setting. Freezing cold to the touch; dispondant and pale, with hair turned a snow white and breath misting even in warmer in air. Changed, or so it seemed, by his time alone in those mists.

The others were astounded of course. The head of them sending some of them off to fetch warm cloths and furs to warm him whilst they let him sit by the fire of the servants quarters. Asking him what happened despite his barely there eyes and the and the shaking hands cupping a hastily made mug of tea.

All the same it didn't take long for the news to find it's way to Lord Lukas, who at once demanded Martin's presence in his study despite the soft protests of those who could tell he was not well.

All the same Martin stood without a word from his place, still hardly warmed from his time by the fire, to meet with him.

"I saw you in the mists," he said once they were alone, "You told me I would forever be alone,"

And then he asked, simply, though by no mean masking the anger in now cold blue eyes, "You sent her out on purpose didn't you? You knew the mists were out that night."

Not a moment later, in a sea of fog that swept through the room and drained the life and colour from its walls, and the Lord Lukas was alone. Martin nowhere to be seen when he opened the door and stepped out, refusing to answer anyone's questions when they inquired on his health.

This time, it takes two days for Martin to return, and when he does Lukas gives them all new orders.

Namely that Martin Blackwood, not be allowed to return to the Grey Moors, lest it be with the head of the Watcher Beast, residing so they said, in ancient ruins found in the deep woods by the borders of land Panopticon.

He's given a day to prepare his leave.

And so it was, with nothing more than a single short sword, a map and some rations put together by those that asked after him, Martin was sent away without so much as the chance for a goodbye.

Martin himself, under no illusions that their Lord of Greymoor, had sent him there to die.

"Let them try," he'd whisper to himself as the foggy outline of a cold stone castle faded away by the rhythm and rumble of a horse pulled cart. "Let them try," even as the thought came again, that maybe this really was nothing more than a good way to get killed.

[gammija]

tiefling jon's first day at the Archives

[dcartcorner]

Commission for @rookfeatherrambles and their as of yet unnamed cozy magic fantasy AU, featuring Hearthwitch Martin and Archmage Jon, and a plot relevant cat! Thank you for the support!

[rookfeatherrambles]

Apparently the commission from @dcartcorner about my unnamed cozy fantasy Jmart AU is at like 400 notes of people just screaming about how much they want it so! Introducing: (It still doesn't have a name yet), the cozy (ish) fantasy au!

Jon is an archmage in training at the Magnus Institute of Arcana, (I gotta think of a better name) where he is apprenticed under Elias Bouchard, the actual Archmage of London. That's an important figure who keeps the balance of magic (and more)

Being close to the Archmage, Jon is learning some pretty incredible magic. But when he accidentally discovers Elias harnessing power from ancient, Eldritch and forbidden gods, Jon realizes that the magic he's been taught to use is furthering some kind of ritual to bring those terrifying creatures into their world and he's been helping all along without realizing it.

With knowledge that could throw London into chaos, Jon seals the knowledge away somewhere safe and then curses himself to become a cat, permanently, and flees the Institute for the city streets as a stray.

It was supposed to be permanently, anyway.

Meanwhile, Martin's moved away from his very overbearing and at the same time distant family. Heir to the powerful magic of the Lukas/Blackwood bloodline, Martin throws away all his prestige for the quiet of a cafe somewhere in the city and a modest life as a Hearthmage. It's a rundown place he's bought to make his own, but he's up to the task of fixing it up.

After a few months of living there, established and settled, he starts noticing that some of his fruits and vegetables are being eaten by a mysterious animal. After many stakeouts, he finally catches the culprit in the act. It's a scrawny black cat with green eyes and a crooked tail, and it has a fondness for tomatoes! Try as he might though, Martin cannot catch the cat. And then, one day, Martin opens the door to start the day and there it is. Sitting outside the door as if its an impatient customer. And there is a tomato in its mouth! Martin's tomato.

He is too stunned to speak, and just watches the cat saunter into the cafe, cool as you please and hop up on a chair to eat it's breakfast.

This is how the war of the veggie patch ends. With a tomato, some warm cream, and some cautious chin scritches.

[screechwhisper]

If madness overtakes us both

Then nobody would be alone

The ghost of us can linger here

Forever not to disappear

Stay

Stay near

Oh, stay

We could be together here

Forever we're together bound in madness

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing Ch1

ao3

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

-

Jonathan Sims was in a foul mood. It had been approximately 37 hours since the intrusion attempt, but he was only just now able to get himself out of bed. Bad pain days were nothing new of course, but he had so many things he needed to get done and the fact that his schedule could be so derailed by a group of misguided youths daring each other to harass the dangerous recluse who lived in the woods was aggravating to say the least. 

He’d tried to expend as little magic as possible to strengthen the barrier and reroute them back in the other direction, with vague suggestions of horrors flickering across their vision to hopefully deter future attempts, but they were persistent and it had left John completely drained. 

At least it had worked in the end. Settling on this method to keep out intruders had been a long trial-and-error process, and he bore scars that proved it necessary. This was the safest method for all involved. 

Not for the first time he wondered if he should leave, move far away, but he’d already tried that. That was how he’d ended up here in the first place, except the pre-existing building and defenses had been a stroke of luck that wouldn’t be happening a second time. There was no way he would be able to build a house and start over all on his own. 

Besides, it wasn’t like magic was looked on more favorably anywhere else. He’d be in danger wherever he went, and he couldn’t hide forever. At least these woods were dangerous to travel through, discouraging most from exploring. 

The irony wasn’t lost on him that he was more afraid of those in the town nearby who had discovered him than he was the monsters that lived with him in the forest. Then again, the fact that the monsters didn't seem to want him dead on the same level might be because they saw him as one of them, and that didn’t exactly set him at ease either. 

Regardless, all of this had led to him outside, elbow deep in soil, replanting herbs well after dark. They had been outgrowing the hanging basket for some time now and he simply couldn’t put off relocating them any longer. The forests were dangerous once night fell, but he was more than safe inside his little haven. 

At least, he was supposed to be. 

There was a loud crash followed by his chickens squawking in surprise and indignation and John felt his blood run cold. If a wild animal or monster had gotten in, the chickens would be making very different noises. In a lot of ways, it would have been better if it had been, at least then he wouldn’t have to find a way to fend them off without harming them. 

No, it had to be those delinquents, back to try again, and John had just been too weak to notice their approach. The runes were still in place and the barrier was definitely still up. If they’d discovered how to pass through without destroying it, he would be in serious danger. He could be overrun by the entire town, a proper angry mob, and he would stand no chance. 

His old injuries ached, reminders of why it was so much safer to isolate himself, to hide away from the world. It was scary enough being confronted with one reckless kid trying to impress his friends let alone the entire town. He let himself cling to his anger, at the indignation of it all, the constant fear he was too tired to feel anymore, and he let it stoke that anger. 

He knew he wasn’t exactly an imposing figure, but he had an impressive temper, and it had successfully chased off some before they could realize how frail he looked. If he could utilize that now, he would. Anger was easier than dwelling on that fear anyway. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he fumed, raising his voice as he grabbed his cane and used it to help leverage himself onto his feet. “Back again so soon? I was lenient before, but if you insist on intruding, you’ll wish I had simply killed you when I had the chance, instead of running you off—“ 

He came around the side of the chicken coop and froze. Lying on the ground in a heap was not a young delinquent but an injured man, looking up at him in bewilderment, breathing hard, presumably from running away from whatever had injured him. And, no doubt, the shock of winding up in John’s little hiding place. 

“Good lord, are you hurt?” John asked, taken completely off guard. He bit his lip to try to focus, get back on track, because he couldn’t show that sort of weakness here, not in front of a stranger. He raised his cane as if he or it were anywhere strong enough to bludgeon someone. “If you leave now, perhaps I will show mercy— wait, you’re bleeding rather a lot—“

“Sorry,” the man said, throwing him off again. “About your chickens.”

He didn’t even look afraid of John like he should be. Confused, yes, and certainly in pain, but the fact that his concern was immediately on the chickens he had frightened left John with no idea what to do. Especially when the man collapsed, unconscious. 

“Well,” John said, studying the man, bringing his cane back down to lean on. “That’s inconvenient.”

John himself had been described many ways; wiry, scrawny, lanky, and the like, and the man on the ground was anything but small, more than twice as wide. This would be difficult, but not impossible. Over exertion would leave him unable to move much the next day or so, but he should be able to get him inside and tend to his injuries before his bad leg gave out. Probably. 

-

Honestly, John was grateful that the stranger hadn’t been conscious for any of his puffing and panting as he dragged the man into his bedroom and eventually onto his bed. It was altogether an undignified experience. He was successful in the end, though, and finally set to tending his injuries. 

There were plenty of superficial cuts on exposed skin, a hazard of sprinting through the trees and brambles. There was an ugly gash on his side, though; one that looked suspiciously familiar. If it was what he thought, this man could have been marked and still be in danger. He should strengthen his wards just in case. 

He was about to draw away when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He barely managed to stop himself from yelling in surprise, looking down at the large hand holding him in place. The grip wasn’t particularly tight, but it still caused his hand to shake minutely, unwelcome memories helpfully supplying possibilities for the sorts of terrible directions this situation could go in. 

He looked up at the large man currently in his bed. He still looked pale and weak and afraid. No anger or accusation in his eyes, which was possibly a good sign. To his surprise, the man’s eyes widened at John’s reaction and he quickly released him, raising his hand as if to reassure. The shock of this was enough to surprise John out of his own fear, leaving him bewildered.

“Please, wait,” the man said, voice weak. “Please don’t go.”

“You— want me to stay?” John asked. Maybe he just didn’t understand what was happening, too delirious with pain. Maybe he didn’t know where he was. 

“There was something out there—“ he said with wide eyes. 

“It wasn’t me,” John said quickly, and the man looked confused, as if it didn’t make sense for every townsperson to accuse John of any ill that befell them in the forest. 

“No, I know,” he said, still looking confused. 

“O-okay,” John said. “I’ll stay.”

The man looked so relieved he let out a heavy sigh, his eyes falling shut. He must have been exhausted. And if he’d had an encounter with one of the more insidious monsters in the forest, John felt for him and what he must be going through. 

And then John berated himself for the thought. It didn’t help to feel for others, to get attached. Yes, this stranger had such an open and friendly face, and he appreciated the consideration he showed in releasing and reassuring John despite his own fear. But once he was properly awake, he was sure he’d change his tune. Still, John didn’t want to have to see this man’s expression twisted in disgust or hatred, directed at him. 

John shook his head as if that could banish the thoughts. This was pointless, this always went the same way. As far as the town was concerned, John was the boogeyman they warned their kids about. The monsters in the area were supposed to be all his fault, and every death they caused was blamed on him. This man would look at him just like all the others, as a monster who had sold his soul or some such nonsense. 

The truth was, he was just as much a monster as far as the townspeople were concerned. Any time he’d found one injured and tried to help, they’d usually fled as soon as they were able. After a few days at most, this man would be gone and John would be alone again, as he was meant to be. As he deserved. 

The biggest danger would be trying to avoid angering the man or accidentally getting in his way during his escape and getting injured for it. His body had taken more than enough punishment over the years and he wasn’t exactly keen to add to his collection of scars. And this man was solid and strong even despite his injury. 

John waited another hour before he left the stranger to his sleep. He knew all too well the nightmares the things in the forest could give, so he weaved a little magic, hoping it might help keep them away, allowing him to actually rest peacefully. A wave of exhaustion washed over him for his efforts, but he simply sighed. It was time to get back to his planting. 

-

John was moving much slower today, exhaustion and pain seeping through every part of him. He wasn’t going to take a break, though, he had too much to do. He’d changed the stranger’s bandages that morning, but he didn’t have a chance to check in on him again until early evening. He was halfway across the bedroom before he realized the man was sitting up, watching him, and he stumbled to a halt. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, blinking in surprise. Then winced. He of all people knew how invasive it could be, stuck in an unknown place, at the mercy of someone else. He wanted to do this properly, make sure this man knew he would be given as much privacy as possible, and he’d already messed it up. “I apologize, moving forward, I will be sure to knock before entering.”

“It’s fine, it’s your house,” the man said with a shrug. “I should be thanking you, you saved my life. I’m Martin, by the way.”

“Um, Jonathan. John,” he replied. “You do know where you are, right?”

“I think so,” Martin said, glancing around at the room, as if it held the answers. John wasn’t much for interior design, it was mostly filled with practical items, tools and supplies, extra blankets. No evil talismans or dead birds or whatever people thought he should collect. “I remember running through the forest, running from— something. So I assume that means you’re—“

“It’s fine,” John said casually when he stopped to ponder his next words. “You don't have to find a polite way to say it, I know they call me a witch.”

“A-are you?” Martin asked, and to his credit, he did look more curious than fearful. 

“No, but people don’t exactly care about the nuances,” Jon said with distaste, conveniently leaving out the bit where he did in fact know magic and didn’t exactly get this ability from a reputable source. “If they see something they can’t explain, they usually chalk it up to witchcraft.”

“Okay,” Martin said, as if that answered everything, as if he was going to simply accept his word for it. John told himself it didn’t mean anything, he could just want to move on. But there was something so trusting in his eyes. It made him feel unsteady. 

“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat. What was he even doing? He had a script and everything to make this as smooth as possible. He needed to get back on track. ”I have gone to great lengths to tend your wounds, so I suggest you not do anything to worsen them. Unfortunately, that means a return journey back to town is ill advised, so I am forced to extend my hospitality while you heal. You are, of course, welcome to leave at any time, but my protection only extends to my land here. Once you cross over the perimeter, if you collapse, I will not be carrying you back here again. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes,” Martin said quickly, but he looked concerned. “I don’t want to impose—“

“Nonsense,” Jon said dismissively, because there was no chance he would ever throw someone out while they were hurt. “While you are under my care, you will be provided food and shelter. And, no, I don’t plan to poison you. There would be no point.” 

He’d had to add that to the end of his little speech after being accused several times, as baffling as that was. He didn’t even grow anything poisonous here. And then he waited. The man still showed no inclination to flee. 

“O-okay?” was all Martin said, more of a question than confirmation when the silence dragged on a little too long. 

“Usually this is the part where you would try to flee. I won’t chase you if you do.” He indicated his cane by gently tapping it against the wooden floor. “Even injured, you’ll likely be faster.”

“I have no idea what is happening right now,” Martin said. “I don’t really want to run, do I have to?” 

“Wha— no, obviously not,” Jon said. He’d been doing his best to stand straight, give some sort of weight to his presence, even if he wasn’t exactly imposing. This entire thing was so confusing, though, he couldn’t help but deflate, clutching his cane close to himself with both hands, like he could hide behind it. “Like I said, I’d advise you to stay. It’s just that people usually wish to get as far from here as possible when given the chance. Are you sure you know who I am? It’s just that, I’d heard my reputation was quite grim.” 

Martin pondered this for a moment before he spoke. “You saved my life. I was so terrified and alone, and then you were there. You stayed with me. How could anyone not trust you after that?”

John couldn’t remember the last time someone reacted this way. Had anyone ever, after he’d gotten his magic? He’d come so far, to a place where no one knew Elias Bouchard, where he wouldn’t be associated with the likes of him. But it hadn’t mattered, they could still see the magic in him. 

Not that John had ever been great at lying or hiding his nature. He discovered that the hard way when he’d first gotten involved and went looking for help. That was why he needed a cane most days. Not that he blamed them, they’d been right. This had all been his own fault.  

He pivoted, trying to get back on track, returning to his script to help him through this interaction. He couldn't let himself get so thrown like this, he couldn’t let himself be vulnerable. 

“Well, as I said, you will be staying here until you are well enough to leave. Please make yourself comfortable as this will be your room. I will have dinner prepared shortly. I make three meals a day, but you are of course welcome to any food in the kitchen whenever you like.”

And with that, he turned and left the room. He was on unfamiliar ground, now. So very few people stuck around after this point, and his paranoia was throwing out all sorts of suggestions, reasons why this had to be a trick or a trap. But what would even be the point? 

He sighed and leaned heavily on his cane as he headed for the kitchen. He still had things to do. And a suspiciously endearing individual to cook for. He grimaced. He shouldn’t be thinking of Martin as endearing, he was only going to get himself hurt. He was usually so much better at not getting attached. Maybe he was just more lonely than usual and this was the first person to not lash out at him in— a very long time. 

-

It was a bit of a balancing act, holding the tray of food as well as leaning on his cane all while fumbling with the door after knocking. Eventually John got it open, though, and felt much too proud of himself. Martin made as if to stand when he saw, but he just glared at him and waved him off. He did not want to have to redo any stitches so soon. He then hooked his cane around the leg of a small table and dragged it over to the bed and placed the tray down on it. 

“Dinner,” he said with a gesture, as if that was needed. “In order to avoid aggravating your wound, I thought I would bring it here. However, you will be expected to take meals in the other room in future so long as your condition doesn’t worsen.”

“Of course,” Martin said, nodding enthusiastically. “I’m sorry you had to go to all this trouble.”

“That’s— that’s fine,” John gave him a confused look, because grateful or apologetic was not typically the reaction he received and he found himself thrown once again, uncertain how to proceed. Somehow this made him more worried than anger would have. 

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Martin exclaimed as he examined the food, oblivious to his internal turmoil. 

”Um,” John’s cheeks darkened and he awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “You can leave your dishes there when you are finished. I’ll retrieve them later.”

And then he turned and slipped out of the room at impressive speed before he could say something else kind, that made his chest feel so warm. He decided it was time to scrub the floor. That would distract him from all this. 

[rocksanddeadflowers]

I have this tma fantasy au I am DYING to write but it's like,,,, writing is hard,,,,,,,, daydreaming is more fun so I'm just gonna tell you the basics here for now to get it out of my system

basically we got tim, sasha, and martin as dragon riders. (which is a Highly Illegal thing to do in this universe the monarchy wants dragons dead so they're Cool Outlaws rescuing dragons. yes I was listening to the HTTYD soundtrack shush.)

jon is a fae who's been hiding out in a little cottage in the woods after Disrespecting his Court and high tailing it across the globe. by some fate or luck or what have you, he and martin meet (not under the best circumstances tho) and it's all breaking the law, 'romantic flight', and found family from there.

ALSO pretty sure there's some gerry x micheal hiding out in there. thinking gerry lives near the sea (maybe he's a fisherman or maybe just for fun, I might even make him a witch) and micheal is a giant merperson thingy who saved gerry from drowning and is now attached to the strange little human.

also micheal's mute (well, probably can make sounds but he can't speak any human languages? like, cause uh, gills) so I really like the idea of them bonding through Gerry teaching him sign language to break their language barrier.

[rauchendesgnu]

A little update on the next At Thy Will chapter:

it's not done yet. I'm having a bit of a writer's block currently, and I'm trying to get out of it so yeah. Can't promise anything for now, but I'll try?

You can read the first 6 chapters here!

[mice-and-moonbeams]

Ohhhh look at them!!!

I was Not expecting the extremely positive response to my silly fairy doodle so here have another :3

[shellody]

Chapter 3 of my current fic is going slowly. I know that soon my friend who's been lightly threatening me to finish it will be at my door with a baseball bat. It has been an honor working with you all /j

Anyways if you like fantasy aus or jmart or both u should go read my fic chapter 3 comes out super soon!!

[hemi-demi]

Wrote a very short JMart fantasy AU snippet for funsies the other day, and now I have dragon!Jon brainrot.

I have a mighty need to draw more of this man. Also need some Knight Martin, because my god.

There is no saving me, I am a lost soul.

[occudo]

Choose the next comic!

I will make the comic when the kofi goal is met, and If you support me on there and tell me what you picked, I will take that as a double vote!

Confused? You can read Gertrude is still around au here and the the Magus Archives au on ao3 here!

[canon-autopsy]

I need more jonmartin AU fics!!!!

I have this list of ones I love so much, they are each FANTASTIC. so if anybody sees this and has any more recs I would really appreciate it

The Lonley Knight - fantasy AU, wizard jon/knight martin, GREAT world building and relationship build up, so so sweet they both deserve the world

Sea Glass Promise - selkie martin/hydrologist jon, SO FUCKING CUTE, unfinished and i think about it every day🥲

Strange Manner - vampire jon/sugar baby(?) martin, the power dynamics!!! Hot! they work through toxic mindsets and come out the other side happy, so satisfying

Beastly Behavior - beauty and the beast AU w beast martin, this is the Story ever, so very well done and put together, what a Romance

Tongue to Teeth - victorian AU, vampire jon, short but such a great dynamic and atmosphere right from the start, victorian monster hunter magnus institute is an amazing concept

Dustsceawung - fantasy AU, fae moth jon, soooo sweet and lovely❤️ two outcasts finding a home in the other, MOTH JON

Idk what it is about jmart that I specifically love an AU for (with one or both being some kind of monster ofc) but it's really my favorite thing right now and I only found these through tumblr recs so im looking for more

[rookfeatherrambles]

So many ideas. Dumping them here for a pinned comment to keep track. When these have AO3 links, I'll list them here The Angel that Cries Ink (Jmart, Jonelias) Jon has been locked under the Magnus Institute for 200 years, waiting for one person. Martin Blackwood. IN PROGRESS)

Bound by Spider's Thread (Jmart, time travel, somewhat fix it, No sex, Annabelle asks Martin to kill a bitch for her in exchange for saving Jon's life somewhere else) WIP)

The Beast in your Heart (La bete dans coeur) Jonelias, Eventual jmart, Hunt!Jon, Kai!jon. Jon finds out about the watcher's crown ritual and chooses the nuclear option. To throw himself at another fear. He is subsequently transformed, and elias is not nice to jon when he finds out what he's done. Dead dove, very dark, very smutty WIP)

Chiaroscuro (Jmart, timsasha, Artist/Muse au. Jon is a infamous artist who paints the most captivating art but has remained out of the spotlight. A medical diagnosis makes him decide to retire, but he's going to do one final piece. Enter Martin, and Jon's inevitable falling in love with his final muse, no sex, ace jon (WIP

Under skies and sea (Vast Jon. No sjhip. Jon is becoming a sea bird. this is problematic for many reasons) WIP)

Sable Island AU (Jmart, Foggyskies, Jon is a low profile environmental researcher that takes a job on a remote island studying seabirds. He starts to become one, and chronicals his journey. Then Martin, the sun of Peter Lukas, one of two men that are wagering over Jon's life, crashes the supply boat onto the island. They reflect on life, and death (WIP

The Storm Singer : (Jmart, Jonpeter, Foggyskies) Jon is the last siren in the bay and he's sworn to destroy the man who ruined his life. Peter is the fisherman turned monster hunter that massacred Jon's people. He wants Jon dead because he killed his wife. Martin and Simon are also there and they are in love! (not with eachother) Sirens and Sailors! Smutty (WIP

The Lonely Bride: Jonpeter forced marriage. Martin refused to run away with jon in s4 and Peter offered him an alternative way out. Dark, exactly what it says on the tin. smutty (WIP

The Hunter's Stag (Jonpeter, fantasy au. Faerie au.) Jon is a magic white stag that was cursed by a faerie king, to run until he's caught and killed. Peter is the hunter that doesn't want to do that. They become friends. And then more. (WIP

Wintergreen AU: (noship. Jon is 8, has a boat, and is going to america. he gets caught in bad weather and picked up by the Tundra. Now there's a child on board his ship and Peter Lukas doesn't know what to do with him. Silly, lighthearted fun i guess. WIP)

I'm not your Protagonist (I'm not even my own): Jmart, Jonelias) Jon wakes up somewhere else and realizes he's not happy. He does his best to figure out why. (EVERYONE HAS TRAUMA AND GETS THERAPY FIC) WIP)

YEOMYTIM (Your eyes on mine, your Teeth in me _Jondaisy, WIP)

The Hearthwitch's Cat (Jmart, Fantasy) Jon is a powerful arch mage that learns a terrible secret and for his safety, becomes a cat. Martin is the hearthwitch he chooses to adopt as his owner. Fluffy, romance, silly fantasy shenanigans (WIP

The red strings of fate (Can go fuck themselves) Jonelias, eugenics au) Jon is someone who never ever wanted to have a partner, but the system matches him to some bastard name Elias Bouchard. Jon's only way out of having children (legally) is to be a holy terror of a wife. Shenanigans ensue. Smutty, fluffy, light hearted i guess. Elias is not evil and Jon is ace spec WIP)

Non TMA stuff:

Dawn of Shadows (Wip, fantasy)

Everyone loves Fucked Up Houses :) (wip, horror)

That weird creepypasta thing, (wip, horror romance)

A real War (wip, Everymanhybrid)

Mabel vs the Grim Reaper (wip, Gravity Falls)

Grimoire Falls (horror fantasy, gravity falls au)

If I think of more of these, I will add them!

ALSO IF YOU ARE CURIOUS, SEND ME AN ASK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT! Seriously yell at me about my ideas please im desperate :))

EDITED 3/29/24

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

The Witch and the Wanderer

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/nN0TSGZ by Jadealaide “What were you thinking?” “WhawasIwha?” Martin mumbled, clutching a hand to a head wound. “Stepping into a fairy ring like that?” The stranger continued, their voice frantic and angry. “What, do you want to get yourself killed?” Martin is looking for a witch to cure his mother. He finds someone who offers to help. He is absolutely not going to fall in love with him. Words: 2935, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Mentioned Michael Shelley - Character, mentioned Martin's mother Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Background Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley - Relationship, Gerard Keay & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Fluff, I speedrun Jmart, First Meetings, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Elves, Magic, I like witch AUs too much okay, No beta we kayak like Tim, Jmart Day 2024 read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/nN0TSGZ

[milkteamoon]

Fantasy jmart scrib bc I've been rotating @drunkenartwhore's au in my brain for the past few days