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ratdoeswriting · 2 years

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summary: Martin’s written poetry for as long as he can remember - he thinks the first poem he wrote was in year one, probably with some questionable rhyming and no actual link to whatever the task even was, but he had enjoyed it, a lot, and had entered every poetry competition (under a pseudonym) right up until sixth form.

Then, in year twelve, one of his teachers had lent him a photography guide and Martin became obsessed with the idea of taking pictures to go with his poetry.

prompt: ‘camera’ from creativepromptsforwriting

pairings: jonmartin

warnings: the lonely (entity), hurt/comfort, but otherwise i think it’s just fluff

word count: 1.4K

a/n: this is cross posted on ao3 and my main blog,, I thin this is rly ooc - its defo outside my comfort zone and im pretty sure i hate it bUt… i also have tpp on the brain and some of jons lines sounded a bit like juno??

~~~

Martin’s written poetry for as long as he can remember - he thinks the first poem he wrote was in year one, probably with some questionable rhyming and no actual link to whatever the task even was, but he had enjoyed it, a lot, and had entered every poetry competition (under a pseudonym) right up until sixth form.

Then, in year twelve, one of his teachers had lent him a photography guide and Martin became obsessed with the idea of taking pictures to go with his poetry. He would have liked to stay and learn photography, but his life was flipped on its head and he had to drop out. So he did the next best thing: he got a disposable camera and took pictures in his neighbourhood.

It was an… adequate solution - he could take the pictures when he had to walk to the shops or had to wait for his mother somewhere, and he could nip into Boots to get them developed when he was in town. In the few years between dropping out of sixth form and joining the Institute, though, he didn't have much chance to write, let alone have time for photography.

By some miracle, having a stable, full time job changed that because just after he got his first payslip, Martin found a vintage polaroid camera in a heart foundation shop not far from his house - it was quite dear, especially considering that he had to find the right parts, but it gave him the kick he needed to start taking more photographs (trying to get his money’s worth and all that).

He started off taking pictures on his way to and from work. He kept a small notebook with him all the time and tucked the polaroids in between the pages (to stick in at a later date) and would write his poems on the corresponding pages. He had briefly entertained the idea of taking a few pictures inside the institute, though he quickly decided against it - Jon would no doubt have been angry, and Elias seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.

His next venture was more nature based and he took to spending most of his time in various national trust parks and gardens with his camera and notebook, though it was at this point that most of his poetry was touched with elements of his feelings for Jon. And various horrors he read about in the archives. It was a weird time.

It had become such a habit, carrying the camera everywhere he went, that it was no surprise that he ended up with more than a few pictures of him, Tim and Sasha together, though these went in a little photo album rather than his notebook.

Sasha and Tim would tease him about his hobby - not in a malicious way, mind you, and, in fact, it turned out alright for Martin in the end because Sasha had nicked his camera once, when they were all at Tim's and took one of Martin's favourite pictures.

He and Jon had been in a not-so-heated debate about something - he can't remember what anymore - and they had completely forgotten that Tim and Sasha were even there until the camera flashed from over the coffee table and the pair of them had started cackling at the absolute horror on Jon’s face. He had tried to tell them off, but their laughter was infectious and he hadn’t been able to keep a straight face for long enough.

Sasha had given the picture to Martin and told him to put it in his photo album, and Tim had joked he should mark this momentous occasion - “the first and only time a picture of the elusive archivist has ever been taken.”

It was a lovely picture. Jon wasn't scowling at him, which was a nice change, and it was clear as day how utterly besotted Martin was - all soft smiles and heart eyes. He had intended to stick it in his photo album, really, but he decided against it - something about it capturing his feelings so plainly made him want to hide it away.

So he put it in his wallet. Maybe it was a bit weird, but it's not like anyone knew he had it or anything, and likely no one would ever need to know it was there. It wasn’t until a week later he decided to get some double-sided tape and paper to stick a poem to the back.

Wish

I wish that you didn't have to know, I wish that my thoughts would slow, I wish that you would see, How much you mean to me.

~~~

It wasn't until he and Jon were safely tucked away in Scotland that Martin was reminded of the polaroid in his wallet.

“Martin, I’m going to the shop. Do you have any cash?”

“Should do - have a look in my wallet. I think it’s on the coffee table.” Martin called back from the kitchen.

There was silence for a moment and Martin went back to the washing up.

“Martin?” Jon said, the vaguest hint of laughter in his voice. “What’s this?”

Martin lifted soapy hands out the sink and used the back of his hand to push his glasses up before turning around. Jon was standing in the doorway holding up a polaroid. The polaroid. Fuck.

“Uhh…”

They both stood there for a moment. Martin was convinced he was actually about to die of embarrassment.

“Sorry? I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything, I just-”

“Martin, it’s alright. It’s… actually kind of sweet.”

“You think? I mean, I thought it was weird when it was taken. I never thought it would be sweet, I mean, who keeps pictures in their wallet anyway? I don’t-”

“Yes, Martin, I think it’s sweet. Now, do you need anything from the shop?”

~~~

A few nights later, Martin couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep most nights, but this was a bad one, one that found him sitting on the little bench outside in his thin pajamas for most of the night. He stared blankly into the horizon, barely registering the sun rising in muted orange through the thick fog that had wrapped around him.

Martin had never been one to indulge, but since his time with Peter he allowed himself this one luxury. Being here, alone… there was cold comfort in it, a tender stiffness settling in his bones, keeping him firmly in this place - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be here, but it was familiar; it was safe insofar as he could navigate it.

He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, which was soon replaced with a blanket.

“It’s cold, Martin. Come inside?”

Martin hummed noncommittally, slowly becoming aware of how the stiffness was actually near painful, the cold comfort was not comfortable, just deceptive, and he couldn't completely tell where the empty landscape ended and he began. Except it wasn’t empty. It wasn’t empty because Jon was there, perched sideways on his lap and half wrapped in the ratty old blanket that had been on Daisy’s sofa when they arrived. Because it was freezing and Jon’s fingertips and lips were already turning a funny grey shade.

He swallowed, throat dry, “Sometimes I think that I'll wake up and you won't be here. Not… not because you don't want to be, more because I still don't know what I did to deserve this. I can’t tell if this is real.”

“You don’t have to earn this, Martin,” Jon frowned, brushing dew-soaked curls from Martin’s forehead, “You’re allowed to be happy,

Martin didn’t seem to hear him, eyes drifting in and out of focus on something neither of them could quite see, “I- We don’t even really know each other, Jon.”

“We have time, Martin, we can learn. For example, I know how to make your tea properly now - it’s very complicated but I know it’s important to you.”

Martin laughed shakily at how proud Jon sounded of himself, and absently started rubbing Jon’s hands between his own to try and warm them up.

“I wish that you would see, how much you mean to me, Martin.” It was Jon’s turn to laugh now, Martin’s cold-kissed cheeks burning up with an embarrassed blush.

“You’re shivering, come on, I’ll make tea.”

#jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #a bit #scottish safe house period #the lonely #a smidge #canon typical tea?#hurt/comfort #fluff???#lmk if i need to tag anything else #ratwrites

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thevoidcannotbefilled · 3 years

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Absolutely LOVE your tags on the post about Jon as the Pupil!!! It all comes down to the "When does the Eye make me monstrous?" conversation!! Helen was right, for once!! It doesn't need to!!! People succumb when they succumb for whatever reason, but we've seen so many examples of people rejecting the Entities through their own power! Jon acknowledging that the Eye showing him the horrors of the apocalypse feels good but still being repulsed by it in the s5 trailer! In comparison to, say, Daisy gleefully taking what the Hunt could give her! Adjskjf I'm running out of steam and can't remember where I wanted to go with this but basically YEAH

(Post in question)

#something about how this has always been jon good or bad#it's been his decisions good or bad#kinda confirms to me that it was almost never about how much if him is the Eye and how much of him is him#He is influenced by the Eye but it can never take him over#tma spoilers#mag200#mag 200#tma#the magnus#the agency and the question of it is so strong in this series bc there's the question of consent to the Eye and its machimations but still#being able to make decisions even when everything is against you so you have a choice but that choice is difficult its awful#idk im rambling but I adore how there is no ability to be lost to the Fears unless you give yourself up people ARE the fears#or at least they let themselves become those Fears for their own benefit (My tags)

Yeah!!!

What is interesting about TMA is that the entire series is about agency and the question if it’s even a thing. Because in some cases, no it’s all about luck! It’s the luck in being the victim of the day, being chosen without your consent, making decisions without knowing what the context is. But on the flipside, it’s all about the importance of decisions, of choice. We talk about Jonmartin and their entire relationship being one huge choice right until the very end, but you could also talk about the choice to go against the world. Going against the Powers, choosing to care about existing in the face of nonexistence, and so on.

I think about the one statement, Book of the Dead. The person knew they were going to die but instead of giving into despair, in their last moments, they took the book and decided to make sure no one could be hurt by it again.

I think of Tim who lost everything, who knew killing Nikola wouldn’t do anything, but got chose to destroy Nikola because he wanted personal satisfaction of destroying the monster that ruined his life again and again.

For Jon, the final episode was all about decisions. Not letting the others get their choose in how to deal with the fears. Making sure he has his agency from the Eye and make sure the Fears starve. Losing that choice when Martin guaranteed that their original plan would work. Choosing to stay with Martin and let go to another world because he loves him.

It’s a series of choices that you make that you have to live with yourself. Sometimes you don’t have a choice, sometimes you make the best of bad choices. Sometimes you choose to live while other times you choose to trust. You don’t always have control, but you do what you can anyway. What else can you do if you want to do good but live in a world that actively rewards those who do harm?

#long post #tma meta #tma spoilers #tma #the magnus archives #mag200 #mag 200 #this was a bit rambly but I have a lot of feelings about tma and choice #Anonymous #ask the void

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ratisnotcrying · 3 years

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Then, in year twelve, one of his teachers had lent him a photography guide and Martin became obsessed with the idea of taking pictures to go with his poetry.

prompt: ‘camera’ from creativepromptsforwriting

pairings: jonmartin

warnings: the lonely (entity), hurt/comfort, but otherwise i think it’s just fluff

word count: 1.4K

a/n: this is cross posted on ao3 and I thin this is rly ooc - its defo outside my comfort zone and im pretty sure i hate it bUt… i also have tpp on the brain and some of jons lines sounded a bit like juno??

~~~

Wish

I wish that you didn't have to know, I wish that my thoughts would slow, I wish that you would see, How much you mean to me.

~~~

It wasn't until he and Jon were safely tucked away in Scotland that Martin was reminded of the polaroid in his wallet.

“Martin, I’m going to the shop. Do you have any cash?”

“Should do - have a look in my wallet. I think it’s on the coffee table.” Martin called back from the kitchen.

There was silence for a moment and Martin went back to the washing up.

“Martin?” Jon said, the vaguest hint of laughter in his voice. “What’s this?”

Martin lifted soapy hands out the sink and used the back of his hand to push his glasses up before turning around. Jon was standing in the doorway holding up a polaroid. The polaroid. Fuck.

“Uhh…”

They both stood there for a moment. Martin was convinced he was actually about to die of embarrassment.

“Sorry? I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything, I just-”

“Martin, it’s alright. It’s… actually kind of sweet.”

“You think? I mean, I thought it was weird when it was taken. I never thought it would be sweet, I mean, who keeps pictures in their wallet anyway? I don’t-”

“Yes, Martin, I think it’s sweet. Now, do you need anything from the shop?”

~~~

He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, which was soon replaced with a blanket.

“It’s cold, Martin. Come inside?”

“You don’t have to earn this, Martin,” Jon frowned, brushing dew-soaked curls from Martin’s forehead, “You’re allowed to be happy,

Martin didn’t seem to hear him, eyes drifting in and out of focus on something neither of them could quite see, “I- We don’t even really know each other, Jon.”

“We have time, Martin, we can learn. For example, I know how to make your tea properly now - it’s very complicated but I know it’s important to you.”

Martin laughed shakily at how proud Jon sounded of himself, and absently started rubbing Jon’s hands between his own to try and warm them up.

“I wish that you would see, how much you mean to me, Martin.” It was Jon’s turn to laugh now, Martin’s cold-kissed cheeks burning up with an embarrassed blush.

“You’re shivering, come on, I’ll make tea.”

#jonmartin #jon sims #the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #a bit #scottish safehouse period #the lonely #a smidge #canon typical tea?#hurt/comfort #fluff??#lmk if i need to tag anything else

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bananonbinary · 4 years

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you mentioned activist!gerry in your tags and I need to know more about that.

archivist!gerry is the main Point of the fic im writing. trying to write. im three chapters in and nothing but set up has happened yet >:/

anyway. The story is, elias didnt hire a replacement archivist immediately after killing gertrude, he just moved a few possibilities to the archives before making a decision, and the eye got Restless. it’s not even human, it doesnt really “plan” or “think,” it just knows that there Should Be An Archivist and There Isn’t.

so it grabbed a willing eye-aligned avatar who’s conveniently just been sitting in storage in the skin book and is already pretty fucking far from human.

in return for doing archivist shit (like, the actual “voyeur of terror” role of The Archivist that the eye cares about, not jonah’s dumb long-con plan for the Archive, not that anyone else even knows about that), gerry gets to be an almost-real boy again. he’s bound to the institute even more than the others are, and still has his Page lying around that will definitely definitely kill him if someone burns it or w/e, but he mostly can live his life as an actual person. albeit one that doesnt really need to eat or sleep and is technically homeless b/c he super doesnt legally exist or have any money. a regular person that lives at his eldritch workplace. its fine. better than being a book.

(mild spoilers ahead if anyone cares about that, this hasnt come up in the fic yet)

archivist!gerry is a lot of fun to play with, because in addition to his canon abilities with the eye (can see when someone’s been targeted by an entity, very minor Knowing), and the normal Archivist abilities he’ll develop as he grows into the role, i’ve decided he’s also end-aligned on account of being. you know. pseudo-dead. fun end and joint eye-end powers include:

Violent and uncontrollable visions of the possible deaths of his assistants if theyre in life-threatening danger!

The ability to bind someone to an End by speaking it into existence like some fucked up greek prophet! (he can’t actually control what the prophecy is, making this pretty fucking useless for strategic purposes. maybe he’ll Bind you to die like 4 years from now, fuck if he knows)

Supernatural Dissociation where both Entities cancel each other out and his brain short circuits over things related to when he was technically dead.

its still jonmartingerry because i love all three of those relationships. one single brain cell between the three of them and jon never has it.

jonmartin is about the same as canon, altho jon isnt SPECIFICALLY hating on martin because he doesnt feel the need to punch down to assert dominance or whatever dumb shit he was doing in canon. still a “skeptical” asshole tho

jongerry is probably the slowest burn because theyre both terrified of intimacy and think its best to go it alone. thank god martin and tim and sasha are here to force them into Feelings.

gerrymartin is honestly my favorite to think about because martin is aggressively optimistic and a petty fuck, and gerry is emo and supernaturally depressed and will die for you the second you show him the barest kindness. so martin has turned being nice into an act of war, he WILL make this sadsack admit some things arent always terrible if it kills both of them.

also tim and sasha are there vibing, all 5 of them are in a sort of queerplatonic poly pile. the other three arent quite as romantic with these two but the love is just as strong and just as important.

god i was about to say tim is like everyone’s protective big brother and then i remembered theres a fucking reason he aggressively tries to fill that specific role for everyone he cares about and now im sad about both canon and my own au. enjoy your kayaking trip king, no one dies in my story.

you’d think sasha is the keeper of the brain cells except shes actually the embodiment of that xkcd comic where someone pulls a lever and gets struck by lightning and decides to pull it several more times for Science.

#fuck i wrote a lot actually #ty for asking this did make me feel better #archivist!gerry au #i hope some of yall are genuinely interested in this cause i have Many Thoughts On It #Anonymous

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