2020-09-01 4:00:59 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

## And in the distance, thunder

apatheticbutterflies:

> Have some soft Jonelias for Jonelias week. Just some fluffy pre-apocalypse discussions of the world they want to make together.

> ***

> “I know you’re not asleep, Jon,” Elias says into the dark of his room. Darkness has never agreed with him well, he prefers to be able to see what’s coming, but he must admit Jon strikes a particularly fetching lump curled beneath the blankets, a pillow crushed tight against his chest like a child might hold a teddy bear. And it’s not like Elias needs to be able to see what’s coming now. Not tonight.

> “As if I could sleep,” Jon mumbles, curling tighter into himself as if he could deny the truth of it. The sleeplessness. His body. This world.

> “I thought one last stroll beneath the Eye would suit you. Something familiar before it all goes—” Elias makes a fluttering gesture with his hand that would be obscured by the dark of his room, even if Jon had been turned to face him, but in spite of that he is sure that Jon saw and understood. The certainty of it rests warm in the bottom of his chest like a good wine.

> “Will I not dream?” Jon asks. There’s no compulsion to the question, just a tight line of anxiety that has Elias’ hand drifting over and smoothing across Jon’s forehead calmingly. Brushing his bangs aside over and over again like a child.

> “I don’t know,” Elias answers. “No one knows. No one has ever done what we will do, ever in the history of mankind. Everything we experience will be a discovery.”

> “You make it sound beautiful,” Jon murmurs and Elias feels him press back a bit against the palm of his hand. “I should know better than to trust in beautiful things.”

> Keep reading

2020-09-01 19:01:03 ¶ ● ⬈

## Jonelias Week Prompts - bluebismuth - The Magnus Archives (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

blizzardeggs:

> i kept forgetting to post my prompts on here, so here’s all the prompts i’ve finished!

> i decided not to do day 5, and days 6 + 7 are a 2 chapter fic, so keep that in mind

2020-09-02 19:01:17 ¶ ● ⬈

## A New Perspective

hibibun:

> > Series: The Magnus Archives
> > Pairing: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
> > Summary: “Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding a tome that… appears to transmogrify humans to have catlike features. Statement given direct from subje—Ow,” Jon glares, trying to ignore the unintentional way he feels his newfound tail swish to reflect his annoyance, ears flattening. Elias’s normally well-manicured nails have elongated to claws, and currently one was digging through the thin fabric of his skirt and into his thigh.

> > “Oops,” Elias says, infuriatingly blasé. Jon hesitates another moment, before sighing and leaving the tape recorder going. If the topic ceased being important, surely it would turn itself off.

> > “You could at least pretend you didn’t do this on purpose.”

> > for day 5 - alternate universe
> > Notes/Warnings: Catboy Leitner, Seduction to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Asexual Character, Demisexual Jon, Nonbinary Jon, Intercrural Sex, Misuse of Beholding Powers, mild bloodplay
> > this is the self indulgent fic i gifted to myself this week and by virtue of that very little set up for this AU dynamic. i just wanted to use the day five prompts for catboys and was encouraged. thank you theo for suggesting specifically catboy leitners.

> > also jon’s gender identity is not super elaborated on here, but he has been experimenting with presentation and finding comfort in some more typically ‘feminine’ clothing, but hasn’t given much thought to pronouns or labels beyond it yet. he just realized after hiding out at georgie’s and needing to borrow her clothes again that wow skirts are nice and he deserves to feel good about that after everything that’s happened. if i ever play around in this universe again, the progression may develop, but for now. here we go!

> > AO3

> “Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding a tome that… appears to transmogrify humans to have catlike features. Statement given direct from subje—Ow,” Jon glares, trying to ignore the unintentional way he feels his newfound tail swish to reflect his annoyance, ears flattening. Elias’s normally well-manicured nails have elongated to claws, and currently one was digging through the thin fabric of his skirt and into his thigh.

> “Oops,” Elias says, infuriatingly blasé. Jon hesitates another moment, before sighing and leaving the tape recorder going. If the topic ceased being important, surely it would turn itself off.

> “You could at least pretend you didn’t do this on purpose.”

> Elias makes a noise implying he’s listening, but doesn’t do much else besides repeat that same flexing of claws and Jon hates the hiss that leaves his mouth. It’s unnatural, and for that reason it catches Elias’s attention, an upturn to the corner of his already smiling mouth, which Jon recognizes as the man holding back laughter.

> Keep reading

2020-09-04 19:01:30 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

bastard-men-prefer-jon:

> waldos-art:

> > That isn’t proper gun safety.

> “You’re perfect like this,” Elias said gently, cradling Jon’s head. Jon had recently had the back of his hair clipped short again, and Elias indulged his fingertips in ruffling the rabbit-soft salt-and-pepper fuzz.

> Jon moaned harmlessly around the metal filling his mouth as it pressed on his tongue. Elias tilted the barrel down slowly until the top of it clacked against Jon’s teeth. Jon’s pupils blew impossibly wider. His eyes crossed to anxiously gape at the rear sight of the full size 1911 before flitting up from beneath dark lashes, first to Elias’s crotch at face level, and then to meet Elias’s gaze. Beads of perspiration were beginning to form on Jon’s temples, glistening against the strands of silver there, and Elias smiled fondly. He could almost taste the salt as he imagined licking up Jon’s cheek in one long, languid stroke.

> “Doesn’t it feel amazing, Archivist?” Elias asked softly. “To be so full of fear, and to simply let it happen?” Elias nudged Jon’s thighs apart with his foot and offered his shin to the straining front of Jon’s trousers. Elias wondered with some amusement if Jon even noticed how he shot forward to lock his hips onto Elias’s leg. Jon hadn’t even strayed from eye contact as his lower half ground for relief seemingly of its own accord.

> “Doesn’t it feel right?” Elias murmured. “To feed our god on your knees, and to allow me to fill you to the brim with that which feeds it?”

> Jon mumbled some manic attempt at a reply, and felt his saliva start to flow around the greasy metal. He made an irritated sound as he sucked to swallow spit, still too proud to let himself drool all the way down his chin. “Exquisite creature,” Elias breathed, committing to memory the vision of the way Jon’s cheeks hollowed out when he accommodated Elias feeding something past his lips. Elias rewarded him by rocking the top of his leather loafer up and down the pulsing rock-hardness of Jon’s cock. Jon whimpered.

> The tone of Elias’s voice dropped to something more human, even tender. “You’re so good, Jon,” he said. Elias had ordered Jon to take off his shoes and socks before kneeling, and Elias felt unexpectedly warmed when he saw Jon’s toes curl adorably from the compliment. As if all that had happened so far hadn’t been delicious enough, Elias gasped when Jon wiggled forward almost imperceptibly to take more of Elias’s weapon, not being prompted or forced. Jon had shakily reached one arm behind his ass to assist him in better arching his back, thus eagerly delivering easy access into his throat. “I’m so proud to have you,” Elias said in a reverent hush.

> It wasn’t that Jon trusted Elias now. His fear had not subsided. Rather, he let more of it flow back to Elias on his own terms—gifted, not stolen—and in this context, it was all the sweeter for it.

> “I wonder what scares you more, Jon,” Elias whispered gratefully, “that I could kill you right now, or that you’re powerless to even Ask why?”

2020-09-05 13:00:51 ¶ ● ⬈

## i don’t want your crown

hibibun:

> > Series: The Magnus Archives
> > Pairing: One-Sided Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
> > Summary: Jon and Martin reach the Panopticon. It doesn’t have the answers they’re looking for, and it doesn’t go how Elias expects.

> > for days 6 & 7: beholding and dynamic shift
> > Notes/Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Reluctant Relationship, Manipulation, Dynamic Shift, Body Horror, Eye Horror, Discussion of T erminal Illness, Jealousy
> > AO3

> The tower looms overhead, ostentatious and as daunting as it was when only a blip in the distance. A horrid beacon that Jon knows they’ll have to enter, however much he’s torn on it. He’s being called—has been presumably by both Elias and the Eye itself, but he doesn’t know what awaits them up there, nor if it will help anything.

> He wants to know what’s up there.

> He doesn’t want to know his place up there. Acknowledge the burning desire to see it all.

> “So this is it,” Martin’s voice breaks his thoughts, and it’s grounding to hear against the stress of the impeding climb.

> “Yes, this is it,” Jon reiterates a bit pointlessly. He’s done his best to avoid looking directly, but it’s obvious Martin has more questions for him. All he can focus on is trying to steel himself for whatever remaining trap Jonah might have for them, and what Martin might expect him to do once they’re up there. There are so many more people he owes it to, to fix things, but he can’t think of them right now either. If he even can do anything about Jonah, there’s no guarantee it would fix anything or mean anything beyond petty revenge.

> Whatever he expects Martin to ask, he’s instead surprised to see his outstretched hand.

> “Ready? Walked long enough to get here, couple of flights of stairs can’t be that much worse.”

> Jon only offers an uneasy smile back, but accepts his hand as they enter.

> Keep reading

2020-09-10 13:01:11 ¶ ● ⬈

## If your prompts are closed please ignore this but how about jonelias or Jon&Elias coronation

tulireboi:

> Thank you very much for the prompt, and they’re still open! Here’s some JonElias, with ‘coronation’ – no warnings.

> Coronation

> Holy − that’s the only word on his tongue in that moment. Elias looks intoxicating, almost divine, in that moment. Eyes fixed on the book, words slipping from his lips like gentle, quiet prayers. Each word, though they should be inaudible from where Jon is, sounds clear and bright in the soft, greening halo of light encircling them. He knows the others are right above them, feeling the effects, feeling every second, but not quite part of it enough to have their presence in the sacred heart of the rite.

> Elias tastes of heaven, when their lips meet, and he feels himself slipping much closer to that dangerous edge he’s been teetering over for a year now, tempted between humanity and the heady feeling of power of the Archivist − no more human than the other man he’s with, whose hold on him is tight, searing. He feels his attention slipping for but a moment, and suddenly he can feel the whole Institute abuzz in his mind, his eyes closed as Elias tilts his head, his Eye open as he feels brought so far past the point of caring and of no-return that he lets himself fall into the feeling.

> It doesn’t matter what he thinks in that moment, because he knows that when he opens his eyes again, it’ll be entirely different. King of a new world, Jon, doesn’t that sounds exhilarating? Elias had said, grey eyes shining in the dimmed lights, his lips crooked, his voice soft. And this was their crowning, feeling as his mind seeped much further than ever, and he feels that door he’s so hard tried to keep shut, fling wide open, and he drowns in the new era he’s creating. Elias smiles against his lips. Jon can barely catch his breath enough to call it beautiful.

2020-09-11 13:00:53 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

## Ohhhh I haven't seen the extended kiss prompt list before. 67 for jonelias?

somuchbetterthanthat:

> 67. When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More ||

> There’s no particular reason as to why Jon follows Elias to his office once Elias is done with his little group briefing, but he does so anyway, avoiding the icy, piercing stare of Daisy, the light, curious frown of Basira and, most of all, the disappointed curl of Martin’s lips. They walk in silence through the corridors of the Institute, Jon filled with nervous energy he cannot seem to shake off, Elias unsufferably calm next to him.

> “Rosie,” he says when they pass through the reception. “Would you be kind enough to make sure I’m not bothered for the rest of the morning?”

> “You do have an appointment with er, Mr Lu -”

> “Ah, yes, well,” Elias cuts her off with a pleasant smile that makes Jon frown slightly. “I’m sure he won’t mind me cancelling this time; if he does, please tell him he’s more than welcome to pass by any other time of the week, that ought to satisfy him.”

> Rosie’s eyes are bright like she knows there’s something more implied in Elias’ words; Jon tells himself it’s not infuriating, but she merely says “Of course, will do then.” and Elias glances back at him, amused like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. Which he probably is. Jon scowls at him, for the principle of it.

> “Come along then,” Elias tells him. “I’m sure we’ve got a lot of things to - oversee before your next business trip.”

> Keep reading

2020-09-15 19:01:02 ¶ ● ⬈

## 29, Jon/Elias or Jon/Martin?

cuttoothed:

> 29. selcouth - unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful.

> *

> Jon comes to him after Ny-Alesund.

> Elias knows that he’s coming. It isn’t a surprise when his cell door opens and he sees Jon framed there, righteous and wrathful. But it is an utterly singular experience, seeing his Archivist in person after all this time. Elias might call it religious, if that weren’t so trite.

> He already knows how Jon has transformed. Emerging from the chrysalis of sleep wet-winged and uncertain, unfurling through the heat of adversity into something beautiful and deadly. But he hasn’t truly seen it until now, the full splendor in the flesh.

> It steals the breath from his lungs.

> Before he can speak a word, Elias finds himself crowded against the wall, Jon’s hands curled in his collar. Jonathan Sims is not a physically imposing man, but the look in his eyes sends a thrill down Elias’ spine. They promise fear and pain, knowing stripped like muscle from bone.

> “Nice to see you, Jon.” He keeps his voice level with an effort of will. Jon’s lip curls.

> “You knew,” Jon says harshly. “You knew what would happen, and you didn’t give us a hint of warning. Basira almost died.”

> Still the same Jon despite it all, so rare for an Archivist, so tender hearted. Beautifully wounded by the cruelties of the world, and determined to defend others from it.

> “Basira made her own choices,” says Elias, “As have you. But you’re not here only to chastise me, I’m sure. What do you want, Jon?”

> Jon’s fingers flex and twist in the fabric of Elias’ shirt. He is glorious to Elias’ eyes, glowing with a radiance he can’t believe other people do not see, the Archivist’s magnificent dread seeping from every joint of him like liquid gold. It is nearly blinding, but Elias cannot look away.

> “The truth,” Jon tells him. “And that’s why you hid from me, isn’t it? Because you were afraid I’d get it from you.”

> Jon’s brow is furrowed with fury and confusion, as if he himself isn’t entirely sure what he wants, what this truth is that he seeks. Elias’ chest aches at the familiarity and the strangeness of him. His Archivist, grown beyond all expectation. He raises his hands to cover Jon’s where they grasp his collar. Jon’s skin feels electric under his palms, unknown and enthralling.

> Elias closes his eyes for a moment, and still sees Jon, bright as an afterimage against his eyelids.

> “I didn’t want to influence you. Your…development. But you’ve done so well, Jon. You’ve become so much more than I could have imagined.”

> Jon flushes involuntarily at the praise, but his expression is fierce and unsparing.

> “I’ve become something,” he says, leaning close. “Something I think is stronger than you. I’m going to ask you some questions, Elias. And you’re going to answer me.”

> His breath is warm on Elias’ cheek. His voice is filled with the promise of compulsion, irresistible and terrible. It is a promise that Elias believes. He tightens his fingers around Jon’s wrists.

> “If you can make me answer,” he says hoarsely, “Then you’re ready to know.”

> Jon’s lips part by his ear, and Elias shivers at what’s to come.

> Prompt List

> I’m full up on prompts for now, thanks to everyone who submitted one!

2020-09-16 13:00:54 ¶ ● ⬈

jonathanstardustsims:

> institute husbands au! it’s a little different than the first post i made about it but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. pre-slash jonmartin, jonelias, 499 words, sfw.

> Great. First day on the job and he was already making enemies.

> “I—I really am sorry,” he offered weakly. “Do—here, let me get you some paper towels—“

> The man Martin had just spilled tea on scowled at him. “I think you’ve done quite enough.”

> Keep reading

2020-09-17 19:01:07 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

jon-elias:

> Short little jonelias drabble I wrote at like 4am

> ////

> A sickening crunch is heard and Jon doesn’t even have to see the blood pouring down his face to Know Elias’ nose is broken. The confusion and anger in his eyes would be comical if Jon wasn’t wishing he could do more than break a simple bone on the man.

> He knows Elias is still the Heart of the institute and his death would mean everyone else’s deaths too. It’s honestly not worth it. It’s selfish, he knows, but he wants to save them this time.

> Tim is pulling him back and shouting something, but Jon doesn’t bother to listen. He has to make sure Elias knows he’s not in control anymore. He pours images of his ruined world into Elias’ mind and relishes in the nearly imperceptible widening of his eyes.

> Green eyes staring at him in horror and excitement.

> “Jon, can we talk?” The words are just shy of professional, the blood still pouring down his face really makes his words hard to take seriously, but Jon nods regardless. Elias motions for the three gawking assistants to leave. Jon can’t keep the smirk from his face even as he watches his co-workers staring in confusion.

> “Uh, double boss, are you sure you’re okay with being alone in a room with him right now?” Oh, poor wonderful Tim. He’s so protective of a monster. Not that he knows the truth about anything, but it’s almost sad to watch.

> “I’m more than capable of handling myself, Tim. Thank you for worrying, but I’d like you all to get back to work please.” Tim hesitates and keeps trying to say something else, but never finds the words. He just pulls along Sasha, Not-Sasha Jon notes, and Martin along and with one last glance at their two bosses, they’re gone.

> “So,” Elias asks carefully. His eyes give away the excitement building in his chest and Jon doesn’t bother even reading his mind when his body language is already screaming at him. “Care to explain the situation, Jonathan?”

> He hums as he stares at Elias. As he stares at Jonah. As he stares at himself through the man’s eyes.

> “I don’t go by Jonathan anymore.” Curious eyes watch him as if trying to predict his next words, but they both know it’s futile.

> “What would you prefer I call you then?” Elias calmly asks, his thoughts the only thing betraying his cool exterior.

> “The Archivist is preferable.” The sheer excitement that filled Elias in that moment overflowed the room. Waves upon waves of joy, of excitement, of fear, covering every inch available.

> “What happened to you, Archivist?” The words are spoken in a breathless whisper and The Archivist wishes killing the man in front of him was still on the table. He hates how much Elias gets off on everything he does as he practically worships him. He hates that he enjoys it.

> “You did.” He allows the eyes, all the same shade of green as Elias’, as their Gods’, open at once and takes a deep breath at the knowledge that instantly flows through him. The door in his mind gets washed away after each wave crashes through it. It’s exhilarating.

> Elias is looking at him like he’s just as beautiful as their God and the sheer amount of love and loyalty he feels from Elias is mind numbing. He crosses the distance between them quickly and pulls Elias’ face towards his.

> His lips are soft and wet and perfect.

> Jon hates it.

> The Archivist loves everything about it.

> And he’s not been Jon for a very long time.

2020-09-18 13:00:52 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

##

Elias/Jon, "Stars in your eyes, the infinity of you." (specifically about Jon/Jon's eyes)

gaslightgallows:

> (A/N: Less Jon/Elias and more “Jon/Elias”; i.e., Elias being creepily interested in Jon from a distance. I have to start slow on the sketchy pairings. XD Vague spoilers up through S4)

> Elias has always measured people in possibilities, in the amount of usefulness he can extract from them before they get too tired or too broken or - frankly - too annoying.

> Keep reading

2020-09-21 13:00:47 ¶ ● ⬈

##

Imagine orgasm denial with Elias pleasuring Jon while he does a statement and not letting him come until he finishes the statement

:

> (Reminder to blacklist thirsty to not Behold thots like this)

> I am actually intensely curious about what Jon feels and how present he is during a statement …

> My mind goes to something like … Jon is alone, in his office, deep in a statement. He is vaguely aware of a prickling heat spreading through his body as Elias acts as a clever ghost, Jon quietly panting between phrases, but he knows he’s alone, of course he’s alone, it would rip him right out of reading if anybody physically opened the door to his office.

> He is too immersed in words and information and the statement giver’s perfect fear to try to parse what sensations belong to what. The foreign pleasure rippling across his skin is first ignored, then accepted, at last welcomed. When it finally reaches the peak where Jon finishes from ending a statement, he is far too gone to have time to unpack what the hell that all was.

> He has bigger problems. Like how can he keep from starving without hurting anyone, and why does he constantly shiver now when he sees Elias’s long fingers wrap around a pen?

2020-09-22 1:00:57 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

## i had this in my drafts as ‘nice elias’ but this isn’t a nice story

wildehacked:

> It’s a stupid idea, but since the alternatives are rapidly narrowing to “wait for something to get lucky and kill me,” Jon decides to try Knowing again. What’s the worst that could happen? The most likely scenario is that he wakes up on the floor with another horrific migraine. He supposes he could send himself straight into another coma, and maybe that’s the best-case scenario for the world at large, so.
> Jon turns on the tape recorder, and closes his eyes.
> “How do I stop being the Archivist?” he whispers, and focuses on it. He imagines someone sitting next to him who he might compel, someone to slake the goddamn hunger, and then imagines them fleeing him–and following. He narrows all the intensity of his Eyes on the question, mercilessly sending the searchlight of his Gaze into the world to find the answers he Seeks, to scour the minds of anyone who might know, any hint, the merest whisper, and drag the answers out of them and into himself–
> –and the world whites out. It’s not pleasurable like an orgasm, but it contains the same existential pause, the same fleeting moment of nothingness that Jon has felt before gritting his teeth and jerking into his own hand, only it isn’t brief. He loses himself in the white-hot emptiness of Knowing, and he has no idea how long it lasts.
> When it’s over, he’s no longer sitting at his desk in the Archives. He doesn’t know where he is–it’s a room he’s never seen before–but he recognizes the sigh from somewhere above him, familiar and fond.

> Keep reading

2020-09-23 13:00:40 ¶ ● ⬈

##

Little disappointed no ones written Jon watching Elias murder leitner and Elias realizing Jon’s getting off to brutal pipe murder, tbh

:

> Sorry it’s not much but my finger slipped

> xx

> Jon stared at his fingers wrapped around a Silk Cut and tried to suppress the deep ache of indecipherable emotion that was causing his jaw to lock. His tremors were back. Well, that was just lovely. He supposed it was fitting, one more thing over which he exerted no control. At least his day couldn’t get any worse than learning that he was under ownership of some sort of evil Fear not-god thing.

> He shook his head and stubbed out the remains of his cigarette on the outside wall of the Institute before heading back indoors and making his way toward his office. What little color had been left in his face drained as he approached it. The sensation in his legs was not unlike treading knee-deep in the ocean. Be still, the thought came as though a whisper from an intimate friend. Wait and watch, for there is much to see.

> Jon knew he hadn’t left the door cracked open like that.

> The knowledge that great violence was afoot settled over him, but he did not fling the door wide to try and stop whatever was about to happen.

> Jon Sims was not a brave man, but that was not the reason he hid himself in the hall now. He did so because it felt correct.

> “It’s always a danger,” Elias’s voice came from inside the office, and Jon stumbled a step back before positioning himself to spy through the centimeter of space slitting around the doorframe. Elias’s voice was honeyed as always, and Jon pretended to be unaffected by it as always, even though there was only himself here to whom to lie. There was a new note of unease to it, though. “Almost always.”

> “Elias,” Leitner moaned desperately, “it doesn’t have to be like—”

> Elias slammed the pipe he had been gripping down on the center of Leitner’s scalp so hard that Leitner didn’t have time to scream before he toppled to the floor. Even the landing was muted, as Leitner’s weak old body crumpled no louder than a tiny bag of dirt of dust. Jon’s hand flew to his mouth to halt a shriek, and part of him detached by trauma noted that he never knew such a dramatic gesture was something people did outside fiction.

> Head wounds bleed a lot.

> (cont. under cut)

> Keep reading

2020-09-24 19:01:02 ¶ ● ⬈

protectmartinblackwood:

> > Since I fished for reassurance and y’all asked for it: Self Indulgent Jonelias ft. Heavy Beholding Content

> “I said: Tell me.”

> The words crackle with energy on Jon’s tongue as he repeats them, reaching in and drawing on all of his harnessed power, so much that he sways on his feet even as the words leave him.

> A visible tremor runs through Elias and his jaw tenses with the effort to keep his mouth shut this time. He closes his eyes and takes a slow breath, whether grounding himself or relishing the sensations, Jon isn’t sure and doesn’t want to be. It doesn’t matter. Elias’ eyes are burning and intense when he opens them again and that damned smug smile is back on his lips.

> “Very good, Jon” he says, unbearably patronizing. “But I’m afraid it’s still not enough. If you truly want to know what the Watcher’s Crown entails, you’ll have to work harder.”

> He takes a step closer and Jon does his best not to flinch as Elias’ cool hand comes up to rest on his cheek, thumb caressing beneath his left eye.

> “You’ve grown so much. Please don’t let this failure discourage you.”

> Keep reading

2020-09-28 13:01:12 ¶ ● ⬈

jon-elias:

> “there is very little left of me and it’s never coming back”

> (630 words, Jon/Elias, JonMartin)

> ————

> Not everything worked out the way he planned it to, but Elias rarely found himself disappointed in the outcome of his actions.

> He sat in his throne with a genuine smile for the first time in decades. He hardly had to try to See the ruined world outside. Even from his seat he could hear the wind howling and the people screaming. It was a beautifully cacophonous sound of agony and misery. Just thinking about it sends a pleasant shiver down his body.

> But now, his Sight was set on watching something far more entertaining.

> Jon and his little assistant sitting in their little cabin trying to ignore the chaos surrounding them. They think they’re safe here, but Elias knows better and he’s almost disappointed that Jon can’t tell. That Jon refuses to let himself Know the danger he’s in.

> He just needs a nudge in the right direction.

> Elias decides he can be that for him.

> It starts off like an itch and progresses slowly into a feeling nearly impossible to ignore. He knows Jon can feel him inside his mind and the knowledge comforts him.

> “Hello, Jon.”

> It’s a few simple words, but the small gasp Jon takes is beautiful. His thoughts are racing and Elias is very glad his little protégé never learned to close off his mind.

> “H-how are you doing this?”

> It’s horribly fitting that the first words Jon says to him in weeks are in a question. He’s always chasing his need to Know and that’s exactly why Elias chose him for this role. Jonathan Sims was practically born to be his Archivist.

> “It’s another gift from our shared benefactor, isn’t it lovely?”

> It is, it really is. Elias can feel the appreciation and awe Jon still has regarding their god. No matter what Elias does, a part of Jon will always accept him into his life. He Knows Elias is his way down the path of knowledge. He wants to be closer to The Eye, he wants to absorb all the horrible things that come with worshipping such a being.

> “What do you want from me?”

> “Oh, Jon.” Elias mummers fondly. “I want everything.”

> A knock echoes around Jon’s room, breaking the quiet intensity the room held before. Jon flinches hard at the sound and Elias sees flashes of Mr Spider’s book go through his mind and feels the shiver that runs down Jon’s back as a result. Martin should really know Jon better by now.

> “I’ll be a thought away if you want to continue our little conversation, Jon.”

> “I don’t-” Another knock against the door inspires an entire wave of annoyance from Jon and Elias takes it as his que to slip out of his mind. He continues watching for a few minutes as Jon gathers his nerves and faces the door.

> “What is it, Martin?” His tone is short and quick and sounds far too much like the old Jon. Martin flinches from behind the door and Elias smiles. Martin truly is the only obstacle left and even now, Jon is beginning to push him away. By the time he’s in Elias’ arms he will have no one to blame but himself for ending up there.

> “I’ve made tea, if you want some that is.”

> “No, I’m okay, Martin.”

> ‘Oh, uh- yeah, right, okay.”

> Elias recognises the look in Jon’s eyes. He doesn’t even have to Know to understand what’s running through his Archivist’s mind. There’s a new statement lying on his desk and he’s starving. They both know that once the statements run out, so does Jon’s patience. You can’t let a monster starve, afterall, imagine the consequences. No, Jon won’t let himself starve. He’ll find his way to Elias. Where he belongs.￼

> “Statement of Jonathan Sims, The Archivist…”

2020-09-29 1:00:58 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

wildehacked:

> Jon doesn’t come out of the Lonely.
> Elias planned for him to go into it, of course, but also to come out, the way he came out of the coffin, and saw through the dark, and survived the Unknowing. It doesn’t matter that it’s only been a day, and Jon struggled through the coma for months: Elias is well aware that if Jon were going to come out on his own, he would have done it by now.
> Elias calls his lawyer, and five hours later he’s striding through the familiar halls of his seat of power, unerringly walking towards the absence in his office.
> “This wasn’t the arrangement,” Elias tells Peter at once, not waiting for him to drop out of the fog. “You mark my Archivist, you don’t swallow him whole.”
> Peter appears with a sigh, spreading his hands. “What can I do, Elias? He was barely past the threshold when he lost himself. And really, if he’s as lacking for anchors as that…”

> “Jon is perfectly well-anchored,” Elias says coldly.
> Peter smiles at him. “Is he aware of that?”

> Keep reading

2020-09-29 19:01:14 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

## Jonah!Martin/Jon, with 'Martin' becoming the new Head of the Institute? >w>

sazandorable:

> It’s not a surprise to anyone when Martin Blackwood is the next Head of the Magnus Institute. Well, except to Tom, but Tom is an outlier and only heard about the murder six months after the fact and didn’t even realise they had a new boss. To anyone else, it has been obvious for a year already that the Lukas guy wasn’t really doing much of anything and Blackwood was the one actually sending the memos and signing the forms, behind his PA title. Which is fine! He was good at it. At this point, all that’s asked of a Head Director is not too much murder and if possible preventing any external attack on the Institute, either. Martin smiled benignly and said he can’t promise the latter but he’ll do his best for the former. Which, you know, is better than when Lukas was in charge and he claimed the opposite.

> So no one’s surprised when Martin actually gets to officially put his name on the plaque of the Head Director office door (not even Tom, who hasn’t seen it).

> And it isn’t surprising, either, that the Head Archivist is more often in his office than not, and neither is the shouting. He’s always been an HR nightmare with belligerence issues towards hierarchy. Rosie says this is happening more often than it did in the time of Elias, as best as she can tell because he’s never learned to book appointments, but hey, that’s only fair, he and Blackwood have always been close.

> God, the horror stories about Sims as a boss, can you imagine getting to be his boss now?

> It’s not surprising, either, that Blackwood is never heard shouting back. Always had the patience of a saint, Martin. He’s even learned to ease up a bit, seems like: all of Sims’ shouting doesn’t seem to be able to take down Blackwood’s light-hearted smile.

> And the only thing surprising about them being seen snogging in a corridor is that Martin was the one doing the pinning. Sonja refuses to pay up the fifty pounds she owes Noor, says it’s got to be an exception, insists that they’ll catch Sims on top. So far the exception has happened three times to general knowledge, but sure, Sonja.

> No, there’s nothing actually surprising about Martin Blackwood grabbing Sims by the scruff of his collar and kissing him long and deep against a wall. They’ve always been close, after all, and the door of Martin’s closet has been see-through for the last decade.

> It’s just. A bit disturbing, is all. The betting pool had loads of options but everyone was agreed on the assumption that it’d be difficult to know, when (if! Stoker used to insist) it eventually happened, because Sims is such a secretive tight-arse and Martin such a nervous wreck that they would definitely keep it on the down-low. Martin being in charge is one thing, his being this — confident? cocky? preening?, is another.

> That’s what directorship does to you, philosophises Kala from HR. Actually, shouldn’t that be grounds for sexual harassment, notes new girl who replaced Hannah whose name no one remembers but isn’t it Ashley or something? No, because Sims hasn’t filed a complaint, pipes in Sonja, probably because he’s the one in charge of this relationship, blah, blah, God, Sonja, just let it go and cough up the fifty pounds.

> Martin’s changed, sure. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, especially when it involves this sort of promotion. In fact, there’s a general agreement that he’s looking pretty cute now that he’s taken to wearing nice suits and ditched the nerdy glasses. He might be wearing coloured contacts? It’s a nice touch, makes him look sharper, very professional.

> Sims is a lucky guy, really has no business looking so shattered when Rosie congratulates him on the boyfriend. God, some people are just never happy with what they get.

> “That’s not,” he tries, at which Rosie gets a pass for rolling her eyes in his face, because, three times, pal. “Never mind. Please, Rosie, tell J— Mister Blackwood that he can shove his assignment up his arse.”

> “Uhh, tell him yourself. Please don’t involve me in your private life.” Except for Sonja, they’ve all already seen quite enough of it, thank you.

> “Jonathan,” says Mister B. from his door, very gently. Rosie’s eyelashes flutter, also understandably, she’s quite forgiven. Martin’s changed all right. Is your voice turning into velvet also a side-effect of directorship? “Jon. Please, let’s not make a scene.”

> Sims inhales and looks up at him, glaring (smouldering, Sonja will insist later) through his eyelashes. Martin just smiles, the sweet, slightly awkward smile but with the nerves taken out and replaced by slightly patronising charm, get a grip, Rosie.

> Sims doesn’t swoon.

> No, what Sims does is drop the bombshell of: “I’m getting him back,” to which Mister B. replies mildly, silk whispering over steel: “And when you’re done being a child, I’ll be waiting,” and who the fuck is that about?

> Sounds like it’s time for Ashley-or-whatever to go find a jar for the new office betting pool.

2020-09-30 13:00:42 ¶ ● ⬈

## 21 with jonelias? :3c

wildehacked:

> “I don’t want it,” Jon says in shaky refusal, squeezing his eyes shut as the corona grows brighter. He’s already on his knees, trembling too badly to move as he waits for it to kill him or take him. Make him want it.
> You never wanted this, Elias told him, back at the beginning of it all, that infuriating patronizing look on his face, but I’m afraid you absolutely did choose it.
> Jon never wanted to complete the Watcher’s Crown. Never wanted to bring the Eye into the world. All Jon wanted to do was–save Martin, save Daisy, stop Dekker, and finally rest.
> “That’s not entirely true,” Elias says, brushing his hand against Jon’s cheek. His voice is thick, glutted with some unknown emotion. “You wanted more than that, Jon.”
> It’s true. He wanted to know. He hadn’t wanted to die without finally knowing the mystery, the secret that will define his death as it defines his life, the–the truth at the center of the labyrinth. He wanted to know, and he wanted to save the people he loved, and he wanted to stop the Extinction, and he didn’t particularly care about living, and that led him here, to this stone room, clutching the man who did this to him for balance, a terrible victory about to swallow him whole.
> “You see,” Elias says, stroking his thumb against Jon’s cheekbone, his other hand fitting itself to Jon’s skull, tipping his head up to the crackling ring descending over them both. “Your choices really have been your own. Not so bad, is it?”
> “It’s–the–end of the world,” Jon chokes out from between his teeth, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed. He chose that, he supposes, and the Eye hasn’t even granted him the courtesy of, of ignorance. There’s no anesthetic, no place beyond fear for him. The world behind his eyes grows brighter, the corona obviously nearly upon them.
> “It isn’t going to hurt,” Elias says, and if he weren’t so obviously wracked with–anticipation, or arousal, or joy, or whatever it is he’s feeling–Jon might call his voice amused. “Nothing can hurt you now.”
> “I’m–I–still–don’t–want it,” Jon manages, and then flinches hard when Elias lets out a high, shocked sound, his hands suddenly clawing at Jon’s skin.
> Jon can’t help himself, and that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? The reason the world is ending, the reason the Eye has never taken pity on him, the choice he can never stop himself from making. He opens his eyes, and looks.
> Elias is–
> Elias has been–
> Elias is crowned. The second corona is in his hands, electric and impossible. He’s crying.
> “Oh,” Jon says, the air punched out of his lungs. It is–beautiful.
> Look, Elias says, or–thinks, or–wants, somewhere in the center of Jon’s chest, in the ache behind his eyes. He lifts the crown in his hands. Come and see.
> Jon cannot stop himself from wanting it, cannot help himself from saying yes.