#jonahmagnusfictive

[fictionkinfessions]

For canon divergences ask game: I'm pretty sure my Barnabas was almost halfway to becoming a servant of the Spiral.

From the very first time we met there was something strange about him, something that confused other people: I remember people around me struggle remembering what he looked like, sometimes arguing about his face, eyes, hair and even height. My father always referred to him as being pretty short for a young man, and my mother has commented once or twice that he, in contrary, was lanky.

While others struggled remembering, describing and identifying him, he just was giving me headaches. Only later, after I found out about all this eldritch bullshit and our possible places in it, I figured that his alignment with the Twisting Deceit was messing with my ability to See. However, I have always seen right through him, and despite his nature being contradictory to my own, I've always loved him exactly for it. I'm pretty sure being Seen was as uncomfortable for him, but he never left my side either, so I guess we were a couple of freaks even amongst our own kind.

- Jonah Magnus fictive (The Magnus Archives)

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[fictionkinfessions]

So. I've been not so friendly reminded that this blog exists, and wallowing in emotions inside one particular head isn't the only option, so here I am, I guess, with my own apology. No ukulele in this one, but I can play pipe.

I can't say that I really am sorry: my journey so far hasn't been so much about remorse as about relearning humanity once again, so I know I should hypothetically feel sorry, but the only thing I can offer to everyone I have wronged is a confession that I understand their points of view. My whole long life kind of has been devoted to understanding and seeing and Knowing, yet I didn't bother viewing others as anything more than pawns for a very long time. At least since I lost my dear Barnabas.

So, first and foremost: Jon. My archive, my main victim, my passion project. I hope you will have a fulfilling life with little to no supernatural occurrences now, Elsewhere. I shouldn't have put you through every horror imaginable in order to shape an ultimate weapon. I see you (figuratively in this instance) as a person, I see you as a human being, and I am sorry.

Martin. You are one incredible bastard: lying to the kind of creature I was then and tricking me into underestimating you, sticking to Jon throughout the whole ordeal and making the hardest decision one can possibly make. You are strong, and you will only grow stronger from now on, and I wholeheartedly wish you will find peace.

Timothy Stoker. Though I kind of wish you had more respect for authority, your lack of such is astounding. You have proven yourself to be a good, honest man, and I dare to think have we met under other circumstances we would become good friends; I hope your friends will value you as much as you and Sasha valued each other.

This brings me to Sasha James. I am unable to recall the real you, as I am no less prone to Stranger's memory mumbo-jumbo than anyone else, but I know a couple things: you were incredibly smart, you would be a rightful successor to Gertrude weren't this whole institute about bringing the apocalypse, and you were too young to meet such awful demise. If you are out here, I wish just as much happiness and serenity for you as I do for everyone else.

And Peter. I don't know what to say to you, but despite all schemes and mind games we played, trying to put our respective patrons on the throne, I thoroughly enjoyed your rare company and I loved you as you were. I was devastated to see you die, it was as if my heart was ripped out of my chest all over again. I love you still, and with this I bid you one last goodbye and dare to advise you against finding yourself in one of those on-and-off situationships again. It may have fed the Forsaken before, but here a relationship like ours will be straight up unhealthy with no benefit to you, and you should avoid abusive fucks like me.

As for Barnabas... I don't have much to say, partially because I doubt there is a trace if you left in this particular reality, partially because I have said it all to the thought of you, to the phantoms my brain created under certain chemical influences throughout the years. My heart aches, but there are no tears left to cry. I miss you.

On that sad note I shall finish my letter and leave you all in peace.

Yours, Jonah Magnus. (The Magnus Archives fictive)

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[fictionkinfessions]

Host’s birthday is today and I’m just thinking about. Cake. They got the one with strawberries and everything. Like, yeah, we technically celebrated it on the weekend before and I ate most of the strawberries last night, but... there’s at least some left for me to actually have on the day. Beholding doesn’t matter we got food on the brain. Ceaseless watcher turn your gaze on this epic snack :) - Jonah Magnus of the #🎶🎮💼 tag

[fictionkinfessions]

Me, a Jonah Magnus fictive : I think I'm hot shit. || Other User, reading an ask I sent them : Oh this is funny :) || Me, immediately : This is great. I'm going to get a good grade in human interaction while staying anonymous, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve. #🎶🎮💼

[fictionkinfessions]

Dearest L.B. , DESPITE you being a fictional creation of our host, I still retain.. certain FEELINGS towards you. Thank you for your offer of villainy. You worked awfully well as a hitman and also an armrest because of your height. That was very funny. You didn't appreciate it in the slightest. I wish you luck on your world conquering. You've a better shot than me, hm? - Jonah Magnus ( Fictive )

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