#tma fanfic 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.

[i-eat-bugs-and-dirt]

JONATHAN SIMS PRIEST AU! FORCED CONFESSIONS! PEOPLE BEING FORCED TO RELIVE THEIR CONFESSED SINS IN THEIR DREAMS OVER AND OVER AGAIN!!! RELIGIOUS GUILT MARTIN!! THE FEAR ENTITIES SOMEHOW LINKED TO THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS! IM GOING INSANE!

[americanoddysey]

GERRY. GERRY ARE YOU /J OR /SRS?!?!?!?!

chapter 26 of A Fresh Pair of Eyes is up!

[driedlillies]

TMA au but it’s just Gerry posting insane things like “here’s *another piece of his art which is super impressive* sorry it took so long I was in prison” and “hey I haven’t been active for two months I was tracking down a cult got into a fight with a member and we both landed in a hospital (he died but that was not because of the fight)” and his comments are just people spamming “WHO ARE YOU???”

[hemi-demi]

Stay with me

The next chapter of I am Here is up!

[sugar--brown]

A bit of fluff

Because we need more fluff to balance all the angst people are creating with the cat!Martin AU by @ultramarinaa

I'm preparing a proper big fic, but meanwhile I made this.

What were the chances to read a book made of only two pages and turning into a cat because of it only a few months after your promotion?

Not much. Martin was sure of that. As sure as the fact, he was in deeeep troubles. What would his boss say?! Turning into a cat should be pretty high on the scale of being unprofessional. Especially after introducing himself as the incompetent fool who let dogs run free in the archives! Jon will be so disappointed and annoyed! He was toasted!

Maybe... Maybe he could fix this? Maybe if he could read the book backward…?

Martin took a tentative step forward and immediately face-planted on the floor. Right. Four legs instead of two. That was great.

He meowed - gosh! he meowed! - pathetically before standing up, ready to make another attempt. But this time, everything was blurry.

… why was everything blurry?

Oh. His glasses. Right. Face-planting on the floor meant losing your glasses. Strange thing that his clothes disappeared with his body, while his glasses stayed the same…

Ah. Great. He couldn't put them back on. Because he was a cat. Without hands. Just very big and soft paws.

He really needed to fix this before anyone sees him!

Staggering a little, Martin began to walk cautiously toward the evil book. He was scared - heck! even terrified - of it. But what could it do more? Turning him into another type of cat?

With apprehension, Martin used his front right par to hit the book quickly. Nothing happened. Ready to bolt backward, he very slowly peaked at the fourth cover.

A wonderful fairytale where only the purrest love can help the hero to save the damsel.

Ah. Ah. Ah. Very funny.

Annoyed, Martin hit the book so hard that it flew away, landing between cardboard boxes full of statements. Great! He was already sick of it!

Two hands grabbed him and lifted him up.

“Hello!” cooed the stranger who just grabbed him without any warning.

Martin meowed and hissed in panic, squirming with all his might. But the stranger hugged him against their chest and started scratching him behind the ears. Oooooooh that was good…

“There, there, it's okay now. You are safe. I don't know how you got here, but I promise I won't hurt you.”

Wait. That voice… was it…?!

“I'm Jonathan, what's your name?”

Martin's eyes grew wide in shock. That was Jon! His boss! His prickly, cold-hearted, boss! And he was cooing at him like he was the cutest thing in the world.

Oh gosh… he was in deep troubles.

“Hey bossman! Did you find Martin? He was supposed to-... is that a cat?”

Tim appeared around the corner, clearly amused by the scene. Jon immediately stopped cooing and scratching Martin's ears, becoming all tenser and professional.

“Ah. Yes, it is… it is a cat. I caught it before it can do any damages.”

Hey! Martin wouldn’t have done any damages! He knew he wasn't the most graceful person, but he wasn't that clumsy. …right?

“What are you all doing back there? Oh! That's a very cute cat, Jon.”

And here was Sasha. Each second was more humiliating than the last. Martin really wanted to run and hide somewhere dark, tiny and safe right now.

“Do you know where it comes from?” asked Sasha, getting closer to inspect Martin.

“No, I just heard him. He doesn't have any tattoos or tag on him.” answered Jon, putting unconsciously a possessive hand on Martin's back. “I have not the faintest idea how he arrived here.”

“Ha! You know cats, boss, they are real champions when they want something!” laughed Tim.

“Champion… that's a good name.”

“Wow! You are already naming him? You move fast!” teased Tim with a smirk.

“We can't keep him, he may have an owner already.” added Sasha, more pragmatic.

“W-well… We can't call him ‘the cat’, that would be properly ridiculous.”

If Martin didn't know better, he would have thought Jon was embarrassed. But he couldn't, he was never embarrassed. On the other hand, he hadn’t reacted like this with the dog so…

While he was lost in his thoughts about his ridiculously cute boss, the group had moved on back to the break room.

Wait. What about the book?! And his glasses?!

Martin was almost able to escape, but Jon's soft hands captured him over his shoulder at the last second. But that didn't stop him to agitated his fluffy paws with a few panicked meows.

“What's wrong, Champion?” asked Jon, looking back with surprise. “Oh, good spot! There are glasses on the floor.”

Martin had half a hope to see Jon putting his glasses on his nose so he could see, but of course, he didn't. Instead, he inspected them before putting them in his pocket with a disgusted face.

“Aren't they Martin's?” asked Tim with curiosity.

“Yes.” groaned Jon. “He must have lost them while clumsily searching for a statement. I still don't understand why he had been assigned here. He clearly didn't have the competences to-... hey!”

Martin had escaped Jon's grasp with a hiss. He knew he wasn't good at his job, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear it!

Before Jon could grab him again, Martin flew under a shelf, deep enough so he couldn't be grabbed. He heard the others shout in surprise and agitation, but he was too agitated to pay attention.

He vaguely heard Tim saying to “cut him some slack” and Sasha guessing that “champion surely needs space”. And Martin decided to do just that. He would stay here until everyone was gone, and then he would find the book to turn himself back.

Hours went by. And Martin must have snooze at some point because when he focused again, everything was calm and quiet. Tentatively, he came out.

Nothing to worry about. The lights were off and Tim and Sasha weren't here any more. So, he walked as silently as possible to where he had launched the book.

Until he heard a groan.

Martin froze. And slowly, oh so slowly, turned his head. 

Jon was still here. In fact, Jon was so focused on his work he hadn’t noticed Martin. So he could have continued, but… something was off. Jon didn't look… healthy. Or at least less than usual.

He seemed barely able to not passed out. He was pale, sweaty and his eyes were unfocused.

… when was the last time had Jon eaten? They didn't see him going out of his office at lunch…

With a sigh, Martin shook his head and walked to the break room's fridge. To be fair, he was a bit hungry himself. And he knew his fish salade was in here. He always brought double portions in case someone forgot their lunch.

It took a lot of time and effort, but Martin was able to open the fridge and to drag the dish to Jon's office.

“Champion? You're out? What are you… oh.”

Jon stood up quickly, too quickly because he needed a few second to make the world stopped spinning. Then, he knelt in front of Martin.

“Where did you… oh, you must be hungry. Right. Sorry… I'm a bit rusty at taking care of a cat. You are really smart, you know? Stealing Martin's food… I'm sure he wouldn’t mind, since he left work early to go find a replacement for his glasses.”

Martin huffed in annoyance. Why did Jon was so… harsh? Sure, he was a fool but still…

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Let me open this.”

That what he did, but he didn't eat. Maybe he needed some encouragements? Martin his best imitation of pleading kitty eyes while hitting softly the salad.

“You… want to share?”

Jon visibly melted, almost like he was ready to cry. But instead, he just sat on the floor and began eating the veggies while giving the sardines to Martin.

They shared in silence. But it was the best interaction Martin had Jon since… since ever! So he wouldn’t complain.

When they finished, Jon suddenly bent down and gently hugged Martin, bumping his head with his.

“Thank you…” he whispered in a broken voice.

And the genuine, honest, sweet, smile of Jon made Martin think that everything wasn't so terrible.

[regainingparadise]

Relistening to TMA Season 5, I am again struck by how goddam badly Martin and Jon need couples counseling.

I love them both. I ship them very much. But oh lord they have issues

Like, these are two individuals who, under the very best of circumstances, would really need therapy both individually and together. They are both people with plentiful quantities of relational trauma from childhood that neither of them have worked through even the slightest bit.

And then you throw them into the apocalypse. And you add a metric fuck ton of guilt, helplessness, and the dynamics of being "The Antichrist and +1"?

On a surface level--Jon is in a perpetual state of information overload. Martin is in a perpetual state of "can you please just explain the basics of what's' going on in a given situation and not just say "it's complicated" or launch into a gruesome monologue"

But on a deeper level, their childhood relational traumas have left them each with opposing avoidant tendencies: Jon is unwilling to broach a difficult conversation, which leads him to hide information until he's confronted. Martin, on the other hand, has a finely honed ability to ignore information that he doesn't like until he no longer can hide from it.

Biggest example of their avoidance tendencies: Martin's Domain

Way early on, when we barely understand any of how the hellscape works, Jon mentions it, Martin shuts it down hard and deflects quickly with a bid for affection from Jon

Martin is in deliberate denial, but Jon admittedly wasn't particularly clear to start with.

"We all have a domain."

Jon means it, presumably, as "Me, You, and other 'Avatars.'" Jon is used to being grouped with those empowered by the Entities. Martin isn't. (see also: MAG185: Martin" Is that how these creatures see us now? As one of them?") But that's not what Jon says. And this is MAG167--they've only been through four domains, at least that we've seen. Jon is speaking from a place of knowledge, and assuming his listener has that same knowledge.

And when this issue comes up much later in MAG183, Martin has spent 17 episodes ignoring or forgetting that he has a domain, not letting that information in so that he has never processed it. (See also: Mag170: "Sometimes I wonder if I forget things on purpose. Easier not to think about them, I guess. Easier to just let them… slip away. They can’t hurt you if you don’t think about them.").

Martin confronts Jon on his avoidance (because while Martin may be good at ignoring things he doesn't like, he's far better at bringing up challenging topics), Jon is able to manage some A+ communication on his feelings and the genuine challenging of figuring out how to share upsetting information when he has All The Information, Martin accepts that. I just desperately want a therapist to be there and make them continue this conversation and practice ongoing good communication skills!

Though they resolve this, even though Jon has an explanation that makes sense...he was really leaving this conversation to the last minute. Would he have "[brought] it up at the crossroads" as he claims to Helen? Or would he have avoided it entirely, as she accuses, or waited till they were at the threshold, as he does with The Desolation and the Hunt, leaving Martin to confront terrifying situations without forewarning or planning or explanation.

Again, Jon kind of tried to bring up some of the potential issues with Basira and Daisy before entering the Hunt domain, but kept it Vague and Ominous ("Things aren't...good"). Martin took that vagueness as an opening to avoid engaging with potential bad news. The teensiest bit of therapy for either of them about their communication issues could have let Jon add "I know you're exited but FYI here are some specifics that you should know" and/or Martin go "I'm excited to see them but given that nothing is good right now, can you be more specific?"

Instead, Jon approaches difficult conversations by being Vague and Ominous, Martin gets snarky or passive-aggressive at the vagueness, upset or aggressively avoidant at the Ominousness, Jon closes back up like a turtle into his shell, and the conversation only comes back up when the situation has drastically escalated, leaving them both more upset.

Jon wants Martin to trust him, because explaining what he knows implicitly is an ordeal for him, and because his upbringing by his grandmother has suggested that communicating is generally unwanted and burdensome (See: MAG081 A Guest for Mr. Spider).

Martin wants to know what is going on, because he's in an awful hellscape of shifting rules about what can and cannot hurt them, completely dependent on a brand-new romantic partner for his survival and purpose, and also because his upbringing and coping mechanisms as a caretaker rely on him knowing enough to help, and his time as an archival assistant has given him some not-inconsiderable trauma about being left in the dark (See: MAG118 The Masquerade) (There's also another post in my head about how MAG118 primed Martin for both the Lonely and his development as a more confrontational character in S5)

All that to say.

Martin needs therapy to deal with the way he chooses not to absorb information he doesn't like. Jon needs therapy to understand that sometimes it's ok to bring up important topics even if the other person will be upset. They both need therapy to cope with all the guilt and helplessness around the apocalypse so they stop taking it out on each other. They need therapy together to learn how to work through their conflicting coping mechanisms.

[dcartcorner]

Scarecrow in the Garden

Commission for @sieveyourtea for the above fic! Thank you for the support!

[possumsquat]

cmonnnn i'm just a little birthday vampire tim cmonn

[helpmeimblorboing]

Melanie - Hey, was the Black Death caused by a Corruption Avatar, d’you think ?

Jon, not looking up from his book - We didn’t do everything, Mel. Sometimes shit just happens

Melanie, rolling her eyes - It’s a yes-or-no question. Not much of an Eye Avatar if you can’t answer that, are you ?

Jon - I am not going to dignify that with a response

Melanie - Anyways, I was just asking because I think the whole situation was really quite well-done

Tim - How morbid

Melanie, a little bit indignant - Oi, Slaughter Avatar, remember ? Anyways, so did they create the Black Death or no ?

Tim, squinting at her - Why are you asking me that ? D’you think I’m a Corruption Avatar or something ?

Melanie, deadpan - Yes

Tim, rolling his eyes - Fuck off

Jon, still not looking up from his book - Will you two pipe down over there ? I just got to a good part !!

Tim - He dies at the end

Jon, finally looking up to glare at him - I know, Timothy. I’m the fucking Eye Avatar, of course I know. But it’s not about the twist. It’s about the plot setups and executions, not -

Tim - The author’s a homophobe

Jon, throwing his book aside - Fuck you

Melanie - Will someone please answer my question ?

Tim - Oh, for the love of - fine !! (pulls out phone) Lemme just phone her real quick. I’m sure she’ll be glad to have her business interrupted by your inane questions !!

Jon- Who’s “her” ?

Melanie - What business ? Worm breeding ?

Jon - Wait, worm-breeding ? Tell me it isn’t-

Melanie, nodding soberly - Prentiss

Jon, indignant - Tim, do you have the fucking zombie on speed-dial ?

Tim, rolling her eyes -She’s a useful associate, alright ?

Jon - She’s a corpse !!

[rowanraven08]

@dieanywhereelseart Fan art for the fic What Once Was Mine by Dieanywhereelse on ao3! This fic was so fun, I love the concept of Jon’s vocal cords being replaced with tape, and being able to mimic sounds and other’s voices. Just to add on to this with my own little head cannon, is that if him and Martin are cuddling and Martin has his head against Jon’s chest, he can hear the little whir of a tape recorder, instead of a heartbeat.

Anyway I dunno if this drawing conveyed that sort of concept? But it was fun to draw. Can someone PLEASE tell me how I’m able to read a 50k unfinished fic and make fanart for it in a single day, and it takes me a month to get through a chapter in a normal book, it’s getting frustrating

[ao3-shenanigans]

Iconic chapter titles

A wrong door and a wrong friend (you can't make it right) by Theshycreeper on ao3

[americanoddysey]

long wait followed by a long chapter

chapter 27 of A Fresh Pair of Eyes is now up!

[critique-masochist]

The public is sleeping on Michael's potential utility as a Gender Reassignment Clinic. It has the power to warp reality as soon as you enter its corridors, I mean, the pieces are all right there!

The question is not whether or not it's possible, it's how it would dress for the job. Am currently struggling between real-clinic and makeover-boutique-core. Please offer thoughts and prayers.

[hemi-demi]

Martin is trying so hard to be a good Knight (it's not going well.)

Finally started writing some of these two idiots, and they're cute af. Just decided I'm gonna write in whatever order I feel like for the series, jump around to whatever brainrot I've got going today. Lots of room for shenanigans and just exploring their relationship at different stages.

Enjoy some awkward pre-relationship pining on my AO3: fic here

[mintyeggs]

martin is very uncomfortable with the energy elias has created in the studio today

read A Fresh Pair of Eyes Chapter 17 here!

i promise i'm catching up on the chapter covers! @americanoddysey writes way too fast for my hands to draw