Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1
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rusty_kinkRules
1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on AO3/Tumblr/website of your choice is allowed, but comments here must still be posted anon.
2. Concrit is welcome if the author requests it, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking threads by derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage, character death and worms is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts between Rusty Quill Gaming and The Magnus Archives may be posted to both posts.
5. Please link all fills to the fill post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.
7. While it should go without saying (kink meme and all) please be advised that much of the content here may not be appropriate for individuals under 18.
8. Update: All prompts can be filled by more than one person. Two cakes (or three, or four) are always appreciated.
While spoiler warnings are not required, if you would like to spoiler cut anything, you can use the following code:
Prompting Guidelines
1. The prompt should begin with "Prompt:"
2. The fill should begin with "Fill:". Otherwise there should be no change to the title.
2. Include the names of the character(s) or pairing(s) in the title, followed by the kink or trope if applicable. Pairings should be formatted A/B(/C/D).
3. If you would like to provide warnings, please put them in the first line of the comment to prevent the titles from getting too long.
And example title: Prompt: Jon/Plant monster, sex pollen
Links
Ask a Mod
Fills Post
Chat and Off-Topic Discussion
AO3 Collection
1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on AO3/Tumblr/website of your choice is allowed, but comments here must still be posted anon.
2. Concrit is welcome if the author requests it, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking threads by derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage, character death and worms is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts between Rusty Quill Gaming and The Magnus Archives may be posted to both posts.
5. Please link all fills to the fill post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.
7. While it should go without saying (kink meme and all) please be advised that much of the content here may not be appropriate for individuals under 18.
8. Update: All prompts can be filled by more than one person. Two cakes (or three, or four) are always appreciated.
While spoiler warnings are not required, if you would like to spoiler cut anything, you can use the following code:
<div tabindex="-1"><b>spoiler title</b><div>Some spoilery content.</div></div>
Prompting Guidelines
1. The prompt should begin with "Prompt:"
2. The fill should begin with "Fill:". Otherwise there should be no change to the title.
2. Include the names of the character(s) or pairing(s) in the title, followed by the kink or trope if applicable. Pairings should be formatted A/B(/C/D).
3. If you would like to provide warnings, please put them in the first line of the comment to prevent the titles from getting too long.
And example title: Prompt: Jon/Plant monster, sex pollen
Links
Ask a Mod
Fills Post
Chat and Off-Topic Discussion
AO3 Collection
Re: Prompt: Gen, Pupil!Jon transformation
Date: 2022-10-20 10:41 pm (UTC)Fill: Gen, Pupil!Jon transformation (1/2)
Date: 2022-10-20 10:56 pm (UTC)-------------------------
The upper floor of the panopticon is dark when Martin gets there. Rosie isn't at her desk either, and while he wants that to be a good thing, he knows it's not. Pushing open that familiar, hated office door takes all of Martin's courage.
The air inside is close and unmoving, and the lights are out here too. Martin takes a steadying breath and recognizes the scent of blood. Damn it. Damn his stupid, self righteous, know-it-all boyfriend. Heh. Jon really gave new meaning to the words "know it all" didn't he? Martin wishes Melanie was here to laugh with him about it, but oh yeah, she's on a suicide run downstairs with Georgie. And Martin has very limited time here. He takes another breath, tries instinctively to tug the Lonely around himself like a shield, and steps into the room.
As the door swings shut behind him, a single spotlight comes on, illuminating the body sprawled on the ground. Dramatic much? Martin can see right away that it's not Jon, too pale and well-dressed. Elias, then. A few more steps confirms it; Martin can see his face, twisted in shock and terror. Not a sight that Martin is displeased to see… he just wishes he didn't know the implications of it. Elias was apparently stabbed to death; a mundane and hopefully mortifying end. No matter what else happens, Martin is glad Jon made it hurt.
Speaking of which… "Jon?" Martin hisses, glancing around, but the dimensions of the room seem to make even less sense than they did before. He can't even find the edge of it, much less wherever Jon is hiding. Something rustles and chitters behind him, and Martin whirls, but… nothing.
"Jon, please, I know you're here. We don't have time for this!"
A weird scraping sound to his left. Martin catches the movement of something out of the corner of his eye, but his mind refuses to process the shape of it. More strange noises, from above this time. Martin jumps as something large briefly blots out the spotlight.
It spirals to the ground with almost comical slowness, giving Martin plenty of time to see what it is. The sight is so incongruous that his brain doesn't know what to do with the information. It looks for all the world like a butterfly wing, if the butterfly in question had been the size of a person. The iridescent scales on it catch the light in a wave of royal blue and white before it touches the ground… and dissolves into the darkness as though it never existed.
"Jon, answer me," Martin begs. Dread is heavy in his chest. "I don't care what you did to Elias—well. Okay I do care but we can talk later, we have to go right now!"
"Martin." The voice is as much in his head as in the room, and Martin flinches from the feel of it. It's like someone took all the cassettes from Hilltop road and synced them together for one horrible word. And then the word flows into another, and another. "Forgive me, I—I'm still coming together I think. Don't worry, we have time."
The voice is a little more like Jon's by the end of it, although the words are underscored by a sickening series of cracks and… Martin wishes he could think of any descriptor besides "wet meat" sounds.
"No, we really don't. So whatever you're doing, whatever sick game this is, stop it and come here right now." Martin channels his fury and hurt into his voice to keep it from shaking, but it only goes so far. "Please, Jon."
"Oh, Martin." Jon's voice is tender, but still wrong in a way that makes Martin's stomach churn. "It's not a game. I'm just trying not to scare you, as much as possible. Rosie is terribly afraid of butterflies, did you know?" His voice is normal again suddenly, like a camera lens shifting into focus. "She hates the way their eyes look, and the little hooks on their feet that catch in your hair if they land on you. Purple Emperor butterflies don't eat flowers, she used to tell people when they teased her. They eat corpses, and—"
"Stop it, Jon!" Martin is relieved when his shrill demand stops Jon's recitation cold. "What have you done to Rosie?"
"Nothing, Martin." Jon has the gall to sound hurt at the accusation. "I told her she was free to go. I assumed she went to the tunnels… did you not see her?" Jon's voice is finally coming from one direction, somewhere off to Martin's left, and he turns to face the source.
"No, I—look, this isn't about her. We have to go, Jon, Melanie and Georgie—"
"Have been herded back to the tunnels as well," Jon interrupts calmly. "Georgie dropped the lighter in her rush to help Melanie escape. The Archivists have disposed of it properly. So there's nothing to worry about."
Martin has never wanted to turn and run more than in that one blinding moment of despair. Instead, he swallows hard and plants his feet more firmly. "Let me see you, Jon."
Fill: Gen, Pupil!Jon transformation (2/2)
Date: 2022-10-21 06:11 pm (UTC)"Martin—"
"What the hell, Jon, I thought you were—I thought you killed Elias so you could take his place as the stupid pupil or whatever even though—"
"Martin," Jon tries again with a little more urgency, although he's brought his arms up to hug Martin back now so everything is fine.
"—you promised you wouldn't, you said we'd go together, but I was so worried because you were just gone this morning, why didn't you tell me, I would have—" Martin stops abruptly. Not because of Jon's protests, but because something just… moved. Under Jon's shirt, right where the palm of Martin's left hand rests.
"Martin, please listen." Jon is gripping Martin's shirt very tightly, trying to keep him from pulling away, and he's talking fast. "I did take his place. I'm sorry, I just… I couldn't go through with it, I won't let the Web have its way. The fears stay here. We stay here, we stop this."
"No… no, Jon, you didn't. You didn't! Let go!" Martin starts to struggle, trying to push Jon away, but his grip on Martin is unnaturally strong. On top of that, Martin isn't getting much leverage because every time he puts his hands on Jon he feels that horrible shifting under his clothes again, and instinctively jerks away.
"Martin please, I'm trying to warn you, I'm… I'm different." Martin thinks Jon is trying to sound apologetic, but it's coming off as euphoric. "I can See your fear, yours and Rosie's and… everyone's. And the Eye wants you to know. It wants me to reflect your fear back at you. It wants to make the very act of interacting with me an act of worship."
Martin has gone very still as Jon speaks. It's wrong, Jon is wrong, but at the same time he isn't, he's just… he's just Jon. Martin swallows down his terror, squeezes his eyes shut, and hides his face in Jon's neck. "That's insane, Jon. You're saying you were… a giant butterfly or something for Rosie?"
"Or something," Jon replies, and Martin feels sick with how smug he sounds.
"And now you're… what? What are you for me? What does your precious Eye think is so scary to me?"
"I'm just me," Jon says, sweet and gentle, running his fingers up and down Martin's back soothingly, the way he always used to. "As I was made to be."
Martin keeps his face buried in Jon's neck and opens his mouth, not sure what he's going to say. He feels something shift in the skin under his lips, and without the barrier of clothing it's horrifyingly obvious that the movement was that of an eyelid opening. Martin's lips brush something soft and moist. In that instant of realization Jon finally lets Martin go and steps back, which leaves Martin free to drop to his knees in the tacky pool of blood and vomit.
"It's sweet, really." Jon is speaking softly, but his voice still cuts through Martin's sobbing and retching. "I get to be myself around you. I don't know that anyone else would have such a clear image in their head of me. Thank you." Martin feels Jon's hand touch his hair and he flinches violently away, keeping his eyes screwed shut. He doesn't want to see Jon like this. There's blood all over Martin too now as he falls backwards over Elias's body, desperate to escape.
"Shh, love." Jon's arms are around his neck suddenly, Jon's slight, familiar body pressed against him, his weight settling in Martin's lap like he belongs there. "It's all right." Jon's hand is on his cheek, and Martin can feel at least five of those damp, slightly sticky orbs against his skin. He won't look.
"No, it's not," Martin sobs, turning his face away. It's all he can do… the rest of him feels frozen, paralyzed by fear or something else, he doesn't know. "You left me, Jon. You promised me, and you lied."
"Oh, Martin. My beautiful Martin." Jon's other hand comes up to hold Martin's head, gently but inexorably forcing his face back. "Together. That's what we said, isn't it? I would never leave you." Martin has the barest fraction of an instant to process the implications of that sentence before Jon presses a kiss to his forehead and he feels something in him shift.
Martin cries out, thrashing, but Jon stays planted on top of him, fingers digging into his face with painful force. "Shh," he soothes, like Martin is a fretful child. "Let me help you." The skin of Martin's face feels like it's bubbling under Jon's hands, slowly and painlessly boiling, except it isn't air rising to the surface. Martin squeezes his eyes even more tightly shut. Martin blinks into the palm of Jon's hand. Both of these things happen together.
By now Martin is incoherent with terror and denial, screaming and screaming until Jon silences him with a kiss that closes his throat, puts it to quieter use. Martin can see his own tongue behind his teeth and he wishes he could pass out from the pain, but the truth is that it doesn't even hurt.
"I promised you we would stay together," Jon is whispering, in between pressing kisses to every piece of exposed skin he can find. "I promised the Eye that you would feed it well enough to earn your place beside me. You're doing wonderfully, love." Everywhere Jon is touching him, Martin feels eyes opening, eyes that aren't his, eyes that see things no one should see. Desolation, corruption, madness, darkness. Martin can't control any of them, and every eye that opens brings a new torrent of fear pulsing through him.
It still doesn't hurt.
"Beautiful," Jon sighs, and Martin finally opens his own eyes to look at him. It hardly matters now. Jon has many more eyes than Martin, packed together so tightly in places that it reminds Martin of the honeycomb flesh of Jane Prentiss. A handful of Martin's new eyes helpfully flicker to corruption domains to provide a comparison. He whimpers, the only sound he can manage, and watches himself try to swallow from the inside.
"You're going to help so much. You'll be so good." Jon slides a possessive hand up Martin's shirt, raising a trail of staring eyes in Martin's skin as he does. "My Martin." Jon's hand comes to rest over Martin's heart, and he feels it skip a beat. Then it skips another, rhythmic pounding turning lopsided and irregular. Martin doesn't want to know what his insides would look like on an autopsy table. He stares at Jon, tears spilling out of the only eyes that are really his, and wishes he could ask why.
"A healthy human body has two eyes, Martin," Jon replies anyway, voice a parody of the dry academic tones he'd once used. "Two eyes mean two pupils."
Despite the blockage in his throat, Martin finds that he can still scream after all.