Summary: Jon is rattled by Jane Prentiss’s statement and has a migraine. Elias helps.
Written for @joneliasweek’s hurt/comfort prompt.
Summary: Jon is rattled by Jane Prentiss’s statement and has a migraine. Elias helps.
Written for @joneliasweek’s hurt/comfort prompt.
Day 1 @joneliasweek LETS GOOO
https://archiveofourown.org/works/58459915
No Powers / Try Again
JONELIAS WEEK DAY 2 IM STILL GOING
Royal // Forbidden Affair
beyond closed doors - hauntedteacups - The Magnus Archives (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
With the threat of Prentiss looming over them, Martin goes to check on Jon at the end of the work day. To his surprise, so does Elias.
(Rated T + no archive warnings)
JonElias Week Day 2: Forbidden Relationship
My first fic for the Jonelias week 2024… and also my first Jonelias fic! I had a lot of fun figuring out how to write the two. ^^ They are living rent-free in my brain, which is very appropriate, I suppose.
This one is for the prompt “try again”. It contains a lot of introspection. And stalking!
Hopfefully this is only my first work for the week out of two! I have a second fic in mind, but that one is a bit more… elaborate, so we shall see, if I can get it done in time…
Ao3 Info is under the cut!
Jonelias Week Day 1 (Which is definitely today I swear), for the prompt “No Powers AU”
This one… maybe got away from me. This is actually only the first half of what I’ve written so far, and probably the first third overall! I do plan to post this to Ao3 at some point (although I suspect I’ll need to do a lengthy round of editing first lmao). It’s some very self-indulgent nonsense, which is a lot of what I write, but now it’s getting put in the main tags of a ship during said ship’s event week. So. It may also be a little bit “aromantic dude tries to figure out what having a crush is supposed to be like.” Also a lot of “dude who took Principals of Accounting once pretending it knows what office work is like.” Anyway, quick warning before we begin, and the rest will be under the read-more:
- Stalking (played for laughs) for most of the fic.
- Just. A weird amount of obsession.
Ok that should be it I think. Fic under the cut.
JE week day 3 (for the prompts “sick” and “confession”)! Which is also today. Please don’t look at you calendars. Anyway this one is much shorter than previous. Warning for second-hand embarrassment I guess? Sorry Jon you’re just so bulliable. Fic under the cut.
(Edit I forgot to re-italicize everything lmao. So if you saw a version of this where nothing was in italics uhhhh no you didn’t. Also added some other stuff cause this baby needed some editing)
Jonelias day 3! It’s when people start to realize that, wait, I truly do have an endless recurring theme, huh.
Setting: sick // Prompt: confessionsThis… was not what Elias had expected. The goal, of course, had always been for Jon to be marked by the encounter in some fashion, and Elias had been eagerly waiting for it. This was to be the first stepping stone to his grand and final plan, after all, the apotheosis of centuries of work – And yet, as Jon laid down on the ground, worms burrying into his skin, there had been no satisfaction whatsoever.
Hours later, Jon trembling with fever in Elias’s bed, Elias still couldn’t make out what had gone wrong – or, rather, he feared he understood too well, but the idea was so ludicrous it was hard to entertain.
Half gone from both the sickness and the medication he’d taken for it, Jon was murmuring under his breath bribes of statements, mostly from the Corruption, his voice regularly shifting to the pitch of Jane Prentiss. Elias sat next to him, running a fresh wet towel over his face and neck, and kept staring, and staring, and staring.
Jon was going to be better in the morning – he was too tied to the Institute for a few worms to claim him, and even if he hadn’t, the spiders were protecting him; a few had slipped under his tongue a couple of hours ago, no doubt to devour the last remains of the unwanted parasites. Elias ought to let them to it, ought to let Jon to it, have him fully take in the encounter so that he may wake up stronger, changed, more beautiful still than he’d already been –
But he couldn’t. Just as he hadn’t been able to stop himself from bringing Jon home to him, ignoring Jon’s fervent and exhausted insistence he was going to be just fine on him own despite having fainted mere minutes before, while finishing to interview Martin. Just he hadn’t been able to stop his arm from pulling the handle of the fire sprinklers much earlier than first planned.
Jonelias week, day 2!
Setting: Royal // Prompt: Forbidden affairEver since he’s been deposed, Elias has had his fair share of visitors; being the former head of a kingdom affords you many amenities, including being able to have the finest food and clothes and furniture one can wish for in the tower they’re kept in, and so he doesn’t lack anything to entertain his angry or wary guests.
Jon, however, is not like any of them; he shines bright in a corner of Elias’ mind, who cannot help, even know, to reach out for him, despite the danger behind them finding themselves in the same room. Truly he should have prepared for the fact Jon would not respect the orders given at the base of the tower, but he had thought that, as reluctant new king, he would have much more to care about than to come here, to the edge of their domain, where the fog curl around the stone.
As it is, when Jon appears, Elias realizes he’s been starved until that very moment. God but he is beautiful in his new royal gown, his eyes as dark and dangerous as Elias knew they could become, his posture taller, more confident, his power shimmering all around him, visible only to Elias. His most perfect work, Elias thinks, and it takes all the restrain that usually comes so naturally to him not to get up and breach the distance between them to devour him all.
Not yet. Not. Yet.
“My king.” he nods instead, shadow of a smirk on his lips, as is proper for the role he plays in this story. “I assume the hour is grave if you come to me when there is so much to oversee already; or have you come to have my head, perhaps?”
Jon only stares at him for a long moment, which means Elias has to stare back, to be safe. It’s a thrill all on his own, although the fact Jon wavers and leans forwards, like he’s smelling a delicious meal, is nothing but gorgeous to witness. Still. Business must go on.
“Well?” he insists. “Which is it, Jon?”
“I–” Jon blinks. shakes his head. “I’m not here as king,” he says, dragging that last word like it’s a curse. “Basira insisted you didn’t want me here but I needed – I wanted –”
Jonelias week day 4! I’ve been meaning to write this for soo long. So of course nothing will end up being satisfying. I wish I was going enough at poetry to write this moment the way it should be written :(.
Setting: hurt/comfort ; prompt: last wordsIn the moment, Jon’s eyes are merciless, and they’re the most beautiful they’ve ever been. A perfect, dark reflection of what Jonah had glimpsed into mirrors for centuries and long learnt to embrace. His fingers find Jon’s sweater and the pain that bubbles up his chest is only second to the terror that grips him, the cold knowledge that, at last, he is dying, and he is dying despite everything he’s done, everything he’s given up, everything he’s ever tried to accomplish running from the end of it all.
A minute, two at most, beholding whispers. It doesn’t turn its Gaze away, not yet, not fully – it will give Jonah that last grace and insult of watching the blood pour out of him until there is nothing else of its servant – but everything else is already slipping away as he coughs, tries to breathe, and wavers when he realizes he can’t without hurting anymore.
When does Jon begin to tremble against him? When does Jon’s righteousness start to fade, as their God welcome home, at last, its favourite child? One moment Jonah is blinking, panicking, dying, the next he is staring back into Jon’s endless gaze and seeing, properly seeing, the magnificent creature that he’s become and the terrified man that had loved Jonah, once, before Jonah had led him right here to both their personal doom.
A mirror, Jonah thinks again, but that’s not right. Jon might be swallowed by the Eye, might be trapped by the Web, but above all he is what Jonah has made him, what Jonah has chosen for them both. Yes, he is Jonah’s end – but he is also and foremost Jonah’s legacy. He’s his.
It takes the last of his strength to raise his hand up to Jon’s cheek. Jon’s eyes flutter. In that miraculous second, in between two difficult heartbeats, as the impossible weight of a ruined world fades away from Jonah’s gaze and begins to gleam into Jon’s, Jonah leans forwards and kisses Jon, mouth filled with blood.
This will be so much, without Jonah to share half of all of this with him. He Knows that Jon understands it now, from the desperate way he kisses him back, from the way he starts to weep, but Jonah isn’t scared anymore – certainly isn’t scared for his Archivist at all.
Jon will succeed, whatever he decides to do. Jonah, after all, has made him perfect. He only needs the reminder; he only needs that one, last comfort.
Jonah’s thumb brushes against Jon’s jaw. He is so, so cold, and Jon is so warm, so alive, so powerful. He opens his mouth; murmurs against Jon’s lips “good..luck..” and, with one, last, satisfied smile…lets go.
Jonelias week day 5! This one is hard, not gonna lie, I don’t quite know what to make.
Setting: sci-fi // prompt: firstsJon looked straight ahead as long as he could; the ceiling of Elias’ lab had very little to offer, and neither did the white walls, but he did try, blocking off both Elias’ clinical remarks and the… noises. He wished he’d been asleep for this, but that was the whole point of not being quite human anymore, wasn’t it? He didn’t need to be asleep anymore to be cured. Or, well. To be fixed up.
In the end, of course, his curiosity was too strong. He glanced down just as Elias carefully parted the skin of his chest in two perfect symmetrical half, got a glimpse of the blood navigating through the wires and pipes and too shiny bones and jerked backwards, repressed feelings of horror bubbling back up to his throat.
“Easy,” Elias told him, putting a firm hand over his thigh. “They’ve already made quite a mess out of you, we don’t want to make it worse.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you made me this.” Jon snapped, because anger was always easier than tears.
Elias looked back at him, utterly unapologetic as ever, damn him, and simply said: “No matter what you think of your new condition, it’s the only reason you’re still alive right now, which I cannot say I mind terribly. Do you?”
“Fuck you,” Jon retorted and tried to go back to sullenly glaring at the ceiling, failing miserably as Elias’ thumb began to caress his hip, oddly soothing.
“The first time is the most unsettling,” he offered, like he was giving Jon some sort of gift. “But I promise you it’s not nearly as unpleasant as human flesh. Quite the contrary. Technology is easier to control, to understand, to take care of. It is ever evolving, as well – if you know what you’re doing, then there is nothing in your body that cannot be replaced, reprogrammed, or repurposed when it starts feeling…Obsolete.”