#mag's writing

[magnusapix]

Masterpost

Website:

General tags:

#text , #ask , #submission

Work tags:

#mag's writing , #mag's art , #sfm fun (wips or quick things done in sfm)

Characters/OCs:

#oc: August Friedmann, #oc: Nicolas Crusoe, #oc: Grace Stark, #oc: Agnes Thompson, #oc: Herman Thompson

[spiral-man]

There is some so insanely heartbreaking to me about Jonathan Sims and the way the statements were recorded. They were all originally handwritten which is such a very human thing, using your own flesh and blood write something down, just the amount of effort and emotion that goes into that. And then Jon had to digitize them using a tape recorder, definitely a lot less human as it’s now batteries and tape but still human enough since it’s using his voice. And now he’s fully inhuman, robotic, stuck in a computer, where there used to be blood and skin and bone there is now plastic and wires and a screen.

I’m currently studying funeral services and in my embalming textbook it talks about how one woman phrased it like “a dead body is an object, but it is an object unlike any other object, cannot be like any other object, because this object used to be alive” and I really like that, it feels comforting, it feels human. Jon doesn’t get this though, he was terrified of being inhuman and he doesn’t even get to be human in this “somewhere else” he doesn’t get to be an object that used to be alive, he is just an object, like a pencil that wrote down the original statements, or the tape recorder that used to record them, and now the computer.

[dzknik]

jon when annabelle cane told him that nobody is making him want to forcibly compel statements out of innocent people and that all his actions are his own

[ID: A tweet edited to be by jon sims @/lucipur which says "Finally caught the dipshit that's been ruining my life." Attached is fanart of Jon Sims from The Magnus Archives, shown in a mirror and angrily pointing at his reflection. He's holding a cassette recorder like a phone. End ID]

thank you @princess-of-purple-prose for the ID

[candlecoo-sideb-art]

Been relistening to TMA again and wanted to highlight some of my favorite lines

"meat is me"

"Sleep no more"

“there’s no feeling, but the no feeling hurts,”

“The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.”

“Life is a current which cannot be fought. It is a march with one destination. You cannot cease your step, nor move your course, to one that skirts the journey’s termination.”

“YOU HAVE ALREADY READ TOO MUCH”

“Not enough space to move. Never enough to breathe.”

‘MR. SPIDER WANTS MORE.’

"She dabbed a napkin at her mouth and asked me where her son was. I asked her what his name had been. She didn’t know."

“The blanket never did anything.”

"The only thing in those eyes was violence. Carnage... Blood"

"Such things are not to be dwelt on, but serve to illustrate my proposition that violence, inflicted, received or even just witnessed, can not only deal injury to the body or the mind, but to the soul itself."

"What is my metaphorical pit?"

“Pray the Sandman only brings you sleep.”

“Long pig. Short pig. Wide pig. Narrow pig.”

"I knew what it was to find your meaning buried in the earth, to claw your sense from under the sand and mud and soil, to dig."

“Your perfect body is here. Become all you can be.”

“Come, meat. Be my guest. And let thy gifts to me be blessed.”

"Transmitting nothing. Powering nothing. Connected to nothing."

“We’ve got one down here. Come on, I’ll show you.”

"After all, whatever all that other stuff was, they weren’t laundering money."

[victorie552]

Just had a thought, it's completely half-baked: So, um, NoME I think, said that there totally could be hröar without any fëar running around, right? Translating: there could be moving bodies with no souls/occupants left.

Zombies. Middle Earth has zombies.

And when would be a better time for zombies to roam around than after Nirnaeth Arnoediad? Even more after Second and Third Kinslaying. You know who would have a perfect opportunity to fight zombies to the point of habit? Fëanorians.

So I imagined the situation where Maedhros and Maglor fight some zombies, successfully turning them into parts (I mean, duh). Then Maedhros says something self-hating like "Surely there's more good to them than was left of us(me) as it hunts and hurts without consent, intent nor will, unlike us(me)."

And Maglor looks at him, then at the zombie's head he holds. He reaps the skull open (with his hands, yes), takes zombies' brain out, and throws it at Maedhros with "We also have an evidence he had a brain, unlike some brother of mine."

Cue Medhros releasing the MOST Older Brother Sigh.

[opheliaweeps]

martin k blackwood u will forever be famous

(from mag 197: connected)

[gallaghersgal]

i've been thinking sm about how lip wanted to be a dad so bad and how it would be soooo different if he had a girl who treated him right and was loyal and sweet

“emmie girl, are you excited to see daddy?”

your daughter squeals and babbles, “dad-dy!” her little hands waving in the air, one grasping onto your chin. you look around the commons, sighting a familiar head of messy curls and heading over to him.

“who’s that, hm?” you ask little emily, pointing out her daddy where he sits at a table outside the student center. as you get closer your daughter recognizes lip, squealing and squirming to be put down so she can run to him. you smile.

“go get ‘im emmie,” you murmur, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head before placing her steady little feet on the ground. she toddles over with adorable determination, shrieking in excitement until lip’s head is turning at the commotion. his jaw drops slightly and his eyes light up, flitting from his baby girl up to you, then back down.

"da- da-ddy!" emily stumbles on her path but lip catches her easily, lifting her up and spinning her around.

"what's up eminem! how's my girl, huh? didya miss me?" he smothers her little face with sweet kisses, listening to the sounds of her baby giggles. the two of them are so sweet, lip and his baby girl. he loves her so much. you know how much he misses his sweet emily- and you too- when he's away at school.

"look!" emily points with one pudgy finger at the bandaid on her knee. "kitty!"

"aw, y'scraped it sweets?" he asks, ever attentive. emily nods her head, grabbing onto his curls. "lemme kiss it better." he flips emily on her tummy, holding her secure and high above his head. he blows a raspberry on the squish of her knee, them smothers her with sugars.

"ducky ducky!" emily points at you, holding her little stuffed duck. it was a present from her daddy, and she never went anywhere without it.

"yeah? y'want ducky?"

you smile, coming to his side and placing ducky in her waiting hands. lip hikes emily up on his hip, kissing her, then ducky on the head. one strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in to press one final, sweet kiss to your temple.

"thank you baby. jus' what i needed, time with my girls.

end.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Angband falls. Beleriand sinks. And Maglor’s wandering when comes across an emaciated hand on the sea shore. Now, it’s not uncommon to see bodies and limbs especially with the mass death of so many orcs and elves killed in the War of Wrath.

But this one he recognises.

The ring bearing the star of the Crown Prince turned King, at the time only recently given by a dying father to his eldest son. The misshapen gold from a young nephew learning his craft, worn with pride even in the darkness of Beleriand. Favoured gemstones embedded in a more elegant ring given by a younger brother as a gift for reaching the highest level of scholarship.

But he wouldn’t need any of that. Not really. Because even scarred and bloodied and shrivelled as it is, Maglor recognises the hand of his eldest brother, left in an iron shackle on the heights of Thangorrodrim.

A hand taken trophy by a Vala and enchanted never to decay. A prize with a place of honour in Morgoth’s Iron Hell.

A hand that’s all Maglor has left of his older brother.

Cradling the slowly decaying flesh, Maglor slowly works at pulling off the iron cuff, careful not to damage Nelyo’s hand any further. It takes days. Weeks. But he refuses to make another mark on it. When it finally comes off, he tosses the cursed object to the depths of the sea, and for the first time, leaves the shore.

Ulmo watches as the Singer makes his way inland, single minded focus driving him away from his lamentation. Maglor walks and walks, weeks, months, all the while carefully protecting the last piece of his brother. The Vala of the Oceans isn’t the only one watching as he stumbles and falls and fights what orcs remain with terrifying fervour until he at last reaches what he’s looking for.

A fiery chasm. One of few left in an almost sunken Beleriand. Just big enough to do what’s needed.

Kneeling at the edge, he holds the hand to his chest, and for a moment it’s like Nelyo is there with him, promising it will be ok. It’s all the courage he needs.

When Maglor falls, he doesn’t feel fear. Pain. Grief. Or even the fire.

Only his brother welcoming him home.

[witchinatree]

who up thinking about they "why is it so easy for you to imagine losing me?" vs "i deserve to lose you, the pain caused by losing you will never outweigh all the bad i have done. it will hurt me forever but it is what i have earned." jonmartin dynamics

[soracities]

Amina Cain, interview with Believer Mag [ID'd]

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

it’s past midnight and i need to sleep but more importantly 

I need to talk about Mags Flanagan from the Hunger Games

Listen. Listen. She might be a minor character who dies halfway through the book she arrives in. But her story is fucking fascinating. 

First of all, since she’s 80 years old during the 75th Annual Hunger Games, she would have been 5 when they started. That means that she’s the only victor we know of that’s guaranteed to have memories of the beginning of the games, not to mention the rebellion itself.

Second, there’s a promotional poster that has a photo of her Victory Tour and the Implications it accidentally has are staggering

her expression and the fact that they dressed her in a military uniform with medals is captivating in its own right but. She’s the victor of the 11th Hunger Games. That doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is.

The 10th Games, featured in The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes, took place in a literal arena. They were the first Games to feature sponsorships and betting, which meant they were the first Games where a tribute’s ability to play to the camera mattered. Lucy Gray, their victor, did not have a victory tour.

Mags Flanagan having the 11th games means that she was the first tribute to know that winning over the audience was a factor from the minute she was Reaped. She was the first tribute with a Victory Tour. It’s likely they she also may have been the first tribute to fight in an arena of the kind that’s shown in the actual Hunger Games trilogy.

So she goes from a witness to the fall of the rebellion and the Capitol’s new horror, to a record-breaking and possibly crowd-favorite Victor. That’s already a lot and we’re only 20% through her life.

She then went on to be a seasoned mentor for Four, possibly shaping it into a Career District. She played the Capitol’s games, while eventually becoming a rebel conspirator.

Speaking of the rebellion-Her district’s victors were far more onboard with fighting against the Capitol than any other Career District. If not for Lyme from District Two (shoutout to Lyme from District Two), Four’s victors would be the only career district victors that actively plotted against the Capitol. Why? When did this start? What was Mags’ hand in it?

I have a million questions about her. Mags Flanagan appreciation please

[takemyteawithformaldehyde]

if I had a nickel for every time a character played by Jonathan Sims was trapped in a loop of superficial domestic bliss with their lover, both deep down not actually happy about it, wallowing in denial as they know this is easier than adressing how wrong it feels and going out to face a literal apocalypse they caused, that is a great irony of showing the audience how giving these characters a happy ever after everyone seems to want them to have, does not in any way help advance the plot nor is it what the characters involved actually want at that point in the story

I would have two nickels

which isn't a lot but still weird that it happened twice

[ministarfruit]

I also did mock CGs of them for fun!!

(doppelgänger magni and vesper concepts)

[ceaselessims]

Oh...?

[metaphorfordeath]

Places You Can Read My Work

Updated September 27th, 2024

"Anti-Psychotic" -- A person living with schizophrenia reckons with the realization that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Appears in Diet Milk Magazine F/W II.

"Dream Home" -- Not a house that is haunted, but a house that haunts you. Narrated version available through the Creepy podcast Patreon.

"The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA" -- A lonely, isolated alcoholic begins obsessively fantasizing about her two coworkers at their rural country music radio station. [Note: this story is Not Safe For Work] Appears in issue 4 of God's Cruel Joke.

"Watch Where You're Going" -- Two trans people talk about life while one of them finishes her shift at the local video store. Appears in issue 6 of Olit Magazine.

"Maintenance Email Transcripts Sept-Oct 2022" -- A person living in Boston seeks mold remediation for her apartment with increasing desperation. Appears as an online feature from God's Cruel Joke.

"From the Journals of Dr. Arthur Sweetly" -- A Victorian surgeon with an interest in Spiritualism documents his dubious experiments as he seeks to prove the rumored distance communication method of sympathetic writing. Appears in issue 4 of Reader Beware.

Thank you very much for reading, and stay tuned for more.

[wintermarmalade]

"Finally!" She spun around in her chair, making a couple full rotations before facing towards her doll. "I've finished work early today for once, so let's do something fun! What do you wanna do?"

"I want to fulfill the tasks you assign me" It stated simply.

"Well, yes, I know what you want to do for me, but what do you want to do... for you?"

Do something for myself? It had never been asked that before. It spent a few moments recalling things that made it feel good, many memories of successfully completing tasks and her masters being appreciate came to mind. "I want to be useful" It concluded.

"Is that all? You've never wanted anything else?"

"I cannot recall ever enjoying anything else."

She gave it a doubtful, but thoughtful look, "Well... I command you to pick an activity for us." She said with a coy smile.

It wanted to complete tasks... to be useful.... what task could it choose for itself that would be useful?

"I would like to learn how to help you make your clockwork trinkets."

"Hmmm, alright!" Perhaps teaching would be more fun than doing it on her own, she thought. "Come watch, and please ask as many questions as you would like." She beckoned as she grabbed a tall stool and set it next to her desk for her doll.

It was not used to being able to speak so freely, but it trusted her. It climbed up onto the stool and watched with amazement as Magdeline fit so many tiny parts together and explained how they moved without any magic. She talked about it all so fluidly, and was so patient with all of her doll's basic questions, no matter how silly it thought they were.

When she was finished, it realized she had made a small, clockwork rabbit! Just big enough to fit in her palm. She wound it up, and it began to shake it's whiskers and hop forward, every third hop doing a flip! It watched the toy creature in awe, unaware of how big the smile on it's face was. It's smile quickly faded as it realized it was reaching the end of the table, about to jump off.

"Quick! catch it!" It said with a genuine urgency, just a bit louder than it's normal voice.

"Hold on, just watch." Mags reassured.

The clockwork rabbit stopped right at the edge of table, then turned around and kept hopping! It couldn't help but laugh, as it couldn't believe Mags made this little creature do so much without magic, she must be the smartest person in the universe it thought.

Mags laughed with her, this was the first time she had seen her doll so much as smile, much less laugh at anything. It was an adorable, precious laughter. She spent a moment just admiring the sound of it's voice and it's joyful facial expressions before it noticed and turned to her attention, as if waiting a command.

"Oh! I didn't have a request or anything, I just didn't know you could laugh, it was wonderful."

"W-Wonderful? What... what do you mean? If... I may ask."

"What do you mean what do I mean?" She teased, "It just made me happy to hear."

She was weird, not like any of the masters it had had before. Why would she care about what her doll felt?

"That is... strange. I'm sorry, I don't understand." It said timidly.

"It's okay, you don't have to right now." She assured it with a gentle pat on it's head. "Now, I'd love to see you try to make your own trinket, if you're ready."

The doll's face lit up again and gave an excited nod, ready to keep tinkering.