DemeterAnna
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Jon and Martin go back in time to stop the apocalypse. Or, just Jon goes back. Or, wait, actually, just Martin goes back. Jon and Martin both go back, and nothing gets fixed, but at least we're together this time? No, no, no, wait, we both go back, we fix everything, we get our younger selves together, and - wait, was that... supposed to happen? That wasn't a problem last time, was it? Oh, god, this is all so hard to keep track of... Oh, Annabelle! Hi, Annabelle! Going to tell us what's going on? No? Just... going to smile at us like we're a pair of idiots? Great! Great. Um. Don't suppose we could have another do-over? I'm sure we'll get it right the next time...
A Not-Time-Travel Not-Fix-It fancomic. Updates weekly.
Bookmarked by DemeterAnna
10 Jun 2026
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- saying you loved me (made things harder, at best) - by rodrikthelocalghost
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
20 Feb 2026
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He downed the rest of his glass in one quick motion, trying not to cough on it, and...half-succeeded. Just about.
Jon just chuckled as he gasped and choked a little on the motion, the laugh soft and slow from a few feet away, and something in him thawed out a little more at the sound, the sight. His throat felt warm. All down through his chest, it spread, with a light burning playing through the caverns of his body as the wine warmed him from the inside out. As the relief dripped in, solid and easy and fucking painful. But sweet, still. Sweet.
The light from the kitchen was playing off the curve of Jon's nose, catching in the breaks between strands of his hair, and it was worth every half-assed sensory-dulling deal and whatever bottle of putrid alcohol he had to force down to see it. To stay, and see it, and be present enough to feel how important it all was to him, again.
(If he could just let it be.)
It was worth it.
He swallowed, and smiled around the lump in his throat. The aftertaste.
"Next time, we'll get straight vodka, don't worry."OR
Jon and Martin get a little too drunk and confess their feelings. Talk. It’s as much of a disaster and a blessing as could be expected.
Bookmarked by DemeterAnna
09 Jun 2026
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- the surprising resilience of the rock ptarmigan - by rodrikthelocalghost
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
16 Dec 2025
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Something in him fought at the consideration, a little rough and instinctive, and bit back against even the possibility.
But…it was nice to be cared about, worried about.To hear Jon care.
And it’d been a shitty night for no good reason, and Jon was trying, and it was enough of an opening to maybe just talk, and not have it mean too much. To sit next to his boyfriend on the couch and talk about all the things they could never quite touch, without any of the pressure.They could watch the birds, instead.
(And maybe he shouldn’t let the thought of care get him into conversations he’d rather not be in, but then…well, he’d probably never talk to Jon properly again, at that rate. And he’d already had more than enough of that. Maybe he just needed to suck it up and meet him halfway, on it.)
Jon could muse on it, ask his questions, and they could just…keep it small. Casual. Casual talk, about what was probably the worst year of Martin’s life, right after they finished breakfast. Homemade muffins and dishes that Jon did and trash that they needed to take out.
...Neat.
Bookmarked by DemeterAnna
09 Jun 2026
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“Oh. Well…Peter was…I mean, he was fine, actually, I think?”
Martin laughed lightly, the sound catching somewhat in his throat, blurred a little under the slow roll of the water just starting to boil.The flippancy in Martin’s voice dug at him, made something in him turn and twist and convulse. Peter had been…fine. It had all been fine. The man had forced Martin into whatever this hellishness had been, irreparably torn him down to nothing over the last year, and…and he was –
“…Fine.”
Series
- Part 2 of taste, bitter, on a guilty tongue
Bookmarked by DemeterAnna
08 Jun 2026
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- but pay no mind, it fades in time (don't we all?) - by rodrikthelocalghost
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
30 Jan 2026
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He let his hand run over the soft skin and took in every detail; the freckle on his shoulder, halfway across the length of his collarbone, half-hidden by the collar of his shirt. The patches of barely visible stubble growing in, prickling against his fingertips as he trailed them along his jaw. The subtle curve of his collarbone, soft and rounded by the solidity of him.
All of it, and the way Jon’s hand fit almost perfectly in the shallow dip where neck turned to shoulder, with the heel of his hand settling ever so easily into the divot.Martin breathed into the touch, barely seeming to give any reaction at all, beyond a vague contentment, but that was perfectly fine by him.
He was here, and Jon could feel him, know he was here, and he could -
He could feel the give of a just-off shape, right around the edges of his fingertips.He shifted his hand, slightly, and something in his stomach sank, hard and sharp. It still took a second to register, beyond just the fact that it was *scar tissue*, light and faded along the side of Martin’s neck, in a spread that very closely mimicked the placement of Jon’s nails.
It…it did take a moment. And then, dripping in bit by bit, it flooded.
Bookmarked by DemeterAnna
08 Jun 2026