they say that you should be the change that you want to see in the world, so I wrote a magshawe fic
Jonah Magnus/Jonathan Fanshawe | Explicit (for a description of self-injury) | 2297 words
“Any proper gentleman is supposed to marry, is he not?”
Jonathan pauses, lost at Jonah’s seemingly serious question. He is so difficult to read, at times, even though Jonathan has known him for years. It is something he’s deeply ashamed of, but something that he has learned to mitigate. Somewhat.
“No proper gentleman is a friend of yours, Jonah. Besides, I cannot marry – you are aware of it. I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else to help you bring revenge to Mordechai.”
Jonah tilts his head in confusion. “I am not aware of any such limitation, no. Your ring finger is intact – what else do you need to be able to marry?”
…He is joking. Surely.
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I'd like to imagine that Jonah didn't hold grudge against Fanshawe after he decided to cut the connection and disappear from his life nor he planed to act against him.
However he kept sending him letters. He wasn't writing in them anything interesting. Mostly about weather or about boring paperwork or simply about his day. The content of the letters really wasn't the point.
Jonah just wanted to remind Fanshawe from time to time that no matter where he moved no matter where he trief to hide he still knew his exact position. At even though he was not about to hurt him in any way he could if he wanted...
Ahhh thank you Elle! This probably isn’t what you had in mind, but I needed to drop in a bit of optimism, so here’s a Jon-as-Fanshawe AU!
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“I can’t do this,” Jonathan says, and his voice is as ragged as the look in his eyes. “Every time I look at you, I see him - I see those things inside of him—”
“I didn’t do that,” Jonah whispers. “I didn’t put them there.”
Jonathan laughs, a brittle sound. “You didn’t put the eyes inside him, but Jonah, you did this to him. And you knew what you were doing, what you were condemning him to. And I cannot—” He stops, rakes a hand back through his hair. “This has to end now, Jonah.”
“What?”
“This - this institute, this affair you have with the darkness. Or—” He sucks in a breath, squares his shoulders. “Or us.”
It is only through years of practice that Jonah does not flinch. He makes his voice cold. “If you have something to say, then say it outright.”
The look Jonathan gives him is exhaustion and grief. “I don’t want to fight with you, Jonah. But we cannot go on like this - I cannot go on like this. I cannot stand by and watch you sacrifice everyone I care about to these powers you’re chasing - including yourself.”
“Get to the point, Fanshawe.”
“The Institute - or this.” He gestures to the space between them. “I need you to choose.”
Jonah is silent. They both already know what his answer will be.
Jonathan sighs. “Yes. I thought so. Then, this is farewell.”
He takes a step forward. Jonah jerks back before he can stop himself. “Don’t—”
He is silenced with a kiss. Featherlight, and controlled, and over too quickly. Jonathan doesn’t look at him as he walks away.
“Goodbye, Jonah.”
.
“Hello, Mr Bouchard.”
Jonah looks into the warm brown eyes of the interviewee on the other side of his desk, and feels an ache in his chest so sharp and so familiar that it threatens to overtake him. But Jonah has had two centuries’ worth of practice, and so he draws in a slow, controlled breath, and smiles.
Another chance.
“Hello, Jonathan. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Shall we begin?”
sometimes, I feel weird about taking Jonathan Fanshawe, one of the few men who managed to escape Jonah, and making up his story in such a way that it turns out that he didn't actually manage to do that. and then I realize how hot and cool it would be if Jonathan only thought that severing ties with Jonah would be enough to save him. if Jonathan's hope that he could resist the natural disaster that Jonah is was just his naivety. if Jonah was more like a plague than a person to everyone around him – if you linger around him, you are as good as dead; there is no way to stop the progression of that illness once it touched you. no way to get out of the downward spiral of otherworldly horrors and madness if you were careless enough to let that charming handsome man lead you to the first steps of it. how fitting would it be if everything dear to Jonah rotted under his touch, first against his will, then for his entertainment. and I calm down ❤️
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Jonathan Fanshawe has been having a problem sleeping lately. Name of that problem is Jonah Magnus.
Read on AO3
...
Jonathan Fanshawe is awakened by the sound of insistent knocking. Few years back he might have been concerned by such urgent peruse of his attention in the middle of the night. Is someone dying? Has anyone been deadly injured? Or struck by a sudden illness?
Nowadays emotions that sudden late visitors strike in him could no longer be described as worry. It is mostly just an annoyance.
He yawns and sits up. His hand reaches to his night table for a candle and matches to light it up with. Then he considers if he should change from his night clothes since he doubts he will be able to fall back asleep after this interruption. Another set of urgent knocking makes him finally grab the candlestick and head towards his entrance door.
“What took you so long, Jonathan? I could be dying!”
“Good morning to you too, Jonah.” Jonathan haven’t check the clock but the color of the sky is seeming to be more shade of the dark blue than the blackness of a night. Rubbing his eyes he lets his friend in. It would be only waste of time trying to reason with him to come at another time when the sun has fully risen – he tried that in the past.
“I apologize but you know that I would never interrupt you if it wasn’t important. But this time it might really be matter of life or death!” Fanshawe in fact does not know that. Probably because what he finds important and what Jonah finds important are two very different things.
“Hm…”
“Are you even listening to me Jonathan?”
“Yes… please feel free to elaborate. What are the symptoms of your illness?” He resists adding this time for it would only lead to melodramatic cries about not being taken seriously enough. For how knowledgeable his friend usually is he has never met anyone more paranoid about being struck by a sudden illness. Not even any of his elder clients living past their expected age are so worried by the littlest sign something might be out of order.
“I’ve come here as soon as I noticed it,” Jonah starts quite pointlessly since Jonathan was not about to assume that symptoms appeared yesterday’s afternoon and Jonah simply chose to visit him in the most inconvenient hour. “I’ve just finished work in my study and started to undress to go to sleep. But as I was untying the bandages-…”
“Wait. Pardon me but have you said you were just about to go to sleep? It is… well, I am not certain what time it is exactly but the sun is about to rise. Jonah I thought we talked about your sleeping regime quite thoroughly last time.” Only real health issue that Jonah presented to him in past few months was his tendency to unexpectedly faint sometimes. At first Fanshawe was naturally very concerned for it might be just first sign of something more serious. However upon further interrogation of Jonah and one conversation with Mr. Bennett which provided him further context Jonathan was successfully able to pinpoint lack of sleep as the culprit of described problems. Jonah seemed not very happy with his verdict. Nor he has seemed to take his advice to heart.
“I am trying to improve my schedule it is special case this time. I could not simply leave in the middle of work what if I forgot till the morning what I was about to write? Anyway that is not important right now Jonathan!”
It is way too early to try arguing with him. “Apologies. Please continue.”
“Yes, so just as I was changing my clothes to sleep I have noticed the pain in my chest. Well not pain exactly more of a pressure? As if I was lying on my back and someone has trapped me under a heavy rock. It appeared out of nowhere I might have had it for a bit longer but you know how hard it is notice needs of the flesh sometimes when one is occupied by work.”
Jonathan is doing his best to keep his eyes open. “So, sudden pressure in the chest and… is it all?”
“It makes breathing harder. And also actually when I move in certain direction there sometimes appear a little stab of pain too… Before you ask it cannot be broken rib I haven’t been doing anything that could lead to me hurting myself in such a way and I also already examined my ribcage myself. Oh, something like stabbing pain was a symptom of heart failure isn’t it? Do you think it might that? Jonathan you must help me!” The panic on Jonah’s face is rising as he decides to self-diagnose himself first and ask questions later as per usual. He takes back all those wishes for his patients to be more aware and educated about their bodies. His dear friend knows way too much for his own good.
“No. Calm down Jonah. I think I might know what the problem it. But first you are still regularly binding your chest because of… your condition?”
“Naturally since as I said before it makes my condition a bit more comfortable. Now how exactly is this relevant?”
“I was just wondering.” His dear friend Jonah Magnus happened to be born with a wrong body which is something he never heard about before. Though he can imagine whoever was unfortunate to be born this way would very unlikely be able to get someone to believe them.
After all even he had a bit of hard time to overcome the conflict between the clear biological evidence and Jonah’s manners and intelligence which has undeniably been pointing towards him being a gentleman. But after enough consideration he must have admitted that it probably is not even the biggest curiosity he encountered during his career. As morbid as that may sounds if Jonah died sooner than him he would love to do an autopsy to study more of his condition and whether there really is no biological prove of conflict between one’s body and one’s psyché…
Ah but this line of thought is a bit off topic. He probably tortured his friend enough with uncertainty.
“Well? Can you finally tell me what illness I have? Can you cure it? Do you not wish to examine me closer?”
“No need for that. You would have much less problems if you followed my advice for once Jonah. I’ve been telling to you for a while you should not be tying the bandages around your chest so tight. And also there is no reason why you should wear them at your home. They are most likely cause of the discomfort as they are pushing on your ribs.”
“But… You don’t understand I need to… uh, are you completely certain it might not have any different cause? Or maybe…-” Jonah whines and Jonathan would probably feel much more pity for how uncomfortable his friend must feel if he didn’t wake him up. He might have been awake but all his compassion is still asleep.
“Do as you wish Jonah. But if you want to get rid of the feeling of pressure in your chest this is the only cure I can recommend to you. Stop binding yourself so often and so tightly.” Fanshawe stands up to make it clear that this is end of the discussion. “Now if it is all… It would be pleasure for me to continue in our conversation in later hours.”
