BuriedInTheArchives
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Recent works
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Seasons May Change But I'm Still the Same by BuriedInTheArchives
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
01 Jun 2026
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Jon stared out of Elias' window to the rose bush he had favored hiding behind. It had been pruned aggressively and tied into a more pleasing shape with twine.
The first bits of green where starting to show, waiting to bloom into something vibrant and bristling. He was certain the first blooms would be gorgeous. Worthy of this home and the man who cared for them so meticulously.
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I'm Thankful to Be Here Now by BuriedInTheArchives
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
02 May 2026
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"I-I…" Jon curled in on himself, clutching the delivered statement closer to his chest. "I'm so s-"
Georgie closed her laptop with a snap, cutting Jon off. He eyed her, readying himself for her to ask him to leave. She had that determined set in her shoulders now, eyeing him critically, before she scooted over to his side of the couch - this one was a fair bit larger than what they had shared before.
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Final Meals and Devlish Deals by BuriedInTheArchives
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
31 Mar 2026
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Basira didn't quite know if she should feel thankful for the fact that the Institute was covering the cost of Daisy's physical therapy. Daisy was no longer a part of the force, and with what Daisy had gone through, and what she had been capable of before, private really was the only option - minimizing risk to as small as pool as possible.
Bouchard, even from a prison cell, still pulled all the strings it seemed.
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Will You Hold My Painted Eye Close? by BuriedInTheArchives for yumi_mc
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
18 Feb 2026
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The home of Jonah Magnus was less grand than Moorland -just as old - and more gaudy, but still, less.
It was not the Eye's seat of power, but still served Jonah well, passing it down from institute head to institute head so he'd never have to leave. The walls were steeped almost as much in the Lonely as the Eye. It put Peter at ease, when it should not have, blunting the ever present prickle of sight into a more familiar cold numbness.
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"The changes did not take long to manifest, whether it was a curse of initial transgression, or continued proximity to those damned books; I cannot say.
Tell me Jonah, did you know what they would do to me? Did you have even the slightest inkling as to what horrors those pages could inflict? Do you know what it feels like, to feel something spin around and blink within you?"
Recent series
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- Works:
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- Words:
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- Works:
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Recent bookmarks
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Jon held a whole lot in his head, these days. Guilt. Love. Anger. Knowledge. The combined and horrific suffering of an entire planet, broadcast to him, live and in Technicolour, without rest or cease.
So it was rather surprising that he had any room left, around the edges, to think about Jared’s garden, after they’d left it.
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Elias shuddered as he walked across the gravel up to the cottage. The fog had lifted this far out into the wood, but the air remained chilly.
Although Elias wasn’t fully sure that the weather was the reason for the gooseflesh on his skin.
The walk to the front door was longer than anticipated. He had parked his car at the far end of the driveway; driving any closer to the home felt like a bad idea. A feeling that, even now, Elias still wasn’t sure was his own.
His footsteps, although light, still make a solid crunch underneath the rocks. He never understood why Peter wanted all that noise from visitors. Surely he didn’t need a warning. And if one’s walking this far into his dwelling well, there’s not much one can do.
A warning Elias knew well, and knocking on the large wooden door an acceptance of that fact.
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patience my brother (and patience my friend) by OllieoftheBeholder
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
30 Jun 2026
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Just as they managed to get themselves under control, Paul realized where they had stopped—directly in front of the nursery. There were several bassinets already lined up, occupied by tiny bundles in blankets topped with tiny stocking caps in pale colors, with their fathers’ names printed proudly at the foot. As they watched, two more were wheeled in and added to the lineup—a blue blanket with a yellow hat and a sign that said SIMS, a pink blanket with a white hat and a sign that said KING. The other babies were sleeping, but these two were wide awake and staring.
And even though he knew they couldn’t see that far yet, Paul couldn’t help but notice that if they could, they’d be looking directly into one another.
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Arthur is late to work, so he will have to make things up to his client. If only his Manager would spring for a better brothel location, how was he meant to dominate a man properly with the smell of copper pipes bleeding through the walls? (It's not the pipes that are bleeding) (John did a bad to Arthur's client) (It's okay tho John will be a good boy to make up for it)
Now with plot!
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It was only for three months. Three months, before the series was ended; another region was chosen; and the crew got ready to put a new lot of poor bastards under the microscope.
A mere three months of twenty-four hour, intensively scrutinised, hell.
Jon paced around his rooms, when the camera installers had gone, and felt each one looking back at him, relentless, inescapable.
He’d never felt anything so hungry in his life.