#elias loves cake

[elias-magnusnt]

Hhhh.

Do you.. god why did I agree to this

Do you want me to bake you something.

I'm not giving you a raise no matter how many baked treats you give me! Leave me alone. This is NOT a good time.

[dat-broken-vase]

Canon TMA facts that give me serotonin, for some reason:

Gertrude dedicated her life to avenge her cat's death.

Peter was canonically cancelled on social media because his building's layout was problematic.

A statement giver's mate fell in love with a beetle and married her.

Jonah (as Elias) once ruined Jon's surprise birthday party because he wanted to eat the cake himself.

There's a homophobic vase that swallows people's husbands.

Martin writes cringe poetry and performs on it.

Jon once said 'lol'.

The real Elias was a pothead, and his main concern with Jonah was that he'd know he was high.

Gertrude stopped the Distortion by giving it dysphoria.

Martin is an arsonist.

A random guy entered the backrooms, then left because he didn't want to be late to his mum's dinner.

Jon got his rib ripped off and decided to keep it in his stationary drawer, then forgot about it for months.

No one ever questions why there's a whole ass skeleton that belonged to a gay victorian in Elias's office.

Jon, Martin and Jonah got trapped together in Windows 95.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Here and then I think about Elias being a genuinely boring person to 99% of the world by the time it's the 2000s and all his circle of Good Society Gentlemen Horny for their weird Academic friend obsessed with Ghosts Stories are dead.

Not just boring, but easily dismissed, as well ("waste of a suit"), ("A dull little man" // "Gertrude was the one who scared me").

And I don't know, it always drives me a little insane in the BEST way. I love it. I love that his little joys in life are spreadsheets, filing, The Horror Stories of Other People that Are Not Him Thank You, and cake. I love that he is mild, that he looks utterly inoffensive, that he's passive and only shows glimpses of how Cruel and /how much he enjoys being Cruel/ in very specific situations (1. i have all the power and everybody in the room knows, 2. They want to see an evil man i'll show them an evil man 3. EVERYTHING I WORKED TOWARDS FOR CENTURIES IS SET INTO MOTION I AM WINNING)

It makes it extra tasty, with that additional external point of view from characters, that Jon explicitely says that Elias is the most knowledgeable man he knows when it comes to paranormal: Jon actively seeked out Elias enough to be aware of that. It's also delicious to have him say "Elias is a hard man to pin down" because it means that Jon RECOGNIZES that Elias is not just his boring, inefficient superior; that there are myriads of other things he's yet to uncover about him and all.

I think it's nice for us all boring people to have represention in villainy. I said it over on bluesky and all but I know in my heart his perfectly tailored three-piece suits are all different shades of grey (Ah,,), except for the black ones that are for fancy events, and the "extravagant" navy blue ones for "fun" events like Institute parties.

he has inside jokes with himself with his cufflinks and that's basically it.

[childrenofcain-if]

AS THE WREN SHEDS HER FEATHER (ELIAS’S POV AFTER SEEING YOU OFF TO UNIVERSITY)

one of the servants unlocked the door to the manor and elias stepped inside, the peculiar quietness pressing down on him like an unexpected weight. it was strange—to be met with silence when he expected his little apple to come bounding downstairs or to be already lounging in the living room to greet him. he thought he’d have an easier time getting used to it, but now? he wasn’t so sure.

elias handed his tailor-made suit jacket to another servant, glancing at the framed picture on one of the mantles near the fireplace: you, as a young kid, perched on his shoulders, a grin lighting up your face. your mother’s arm is looped around his, a laugh in her eyes so identical to yours as she holds onto the two of you.

he could remember the day that picture was taken, but it wasn’t enough—just memories which grow blurry each day. so he went to his study, where he kept the home videos. the cabinet was hidden behind a stack of old books, almost as though he’d been trying to bury it. but tonight, with you miles away at yale and his heart feeling like it was suddenly too big and too heavy for his chest, he wanted to see her. he wanted to see both of you.

after a few minutes of sorting through the SD cards, he found one simply labeled, “to be remembered.” he slid it into the player, and the screen flickered, a bit staticky, before the familiar image of the manor’s living room filled the screen.

the camera was shaky at first, moving around as your mother laughed, “elias, you’re terrible at this. here, let me…” her hand appeared in the frame, reaching for the camera.

“no way!” elias’s voice, younger and far more cheery, filled with laughter, protested from behind the camera. “i’m the cameraman. you, mijn liefje, are the star.”

“oh, so you just get to sit back and watch, huh?” she teased with a fond roll of her eyes.

the camera settled, a little less wobbly, as elias zoomed in on you, toddling around with your hands outstretched for balance, your whole face lit up with excitement. you must have been barely two, still unsteady on your feet, wobbling a little as you reached for her.

“come here, sweetheart,” she said, crouching down to your level, arms open. “you can do it, just a few more steps.”

elias chuckled as he watched her coax you forward, a surge of warmth flooding his chest. he remembered how her face would soften every time she looked at you, the way her eyes would light up. and then he saw it again—how she laughed when you finally tumbled forward into her arms, her joy bubbling over.

the tape lurched forward in fits and starts, as if elias had just recorded whatever seemed meaningful at the time without thinking about how it would piece together later. the screen shifted to a birthday, candles on a homemade cake—your fifth birthday. you were wearing a crown made of a long balloon that you’d insisted on, sitting cross-legged at the table, and there were flecks of icing smudged on your cheeks. your mother was holding the cake, careful to keep it level, beaming as she leaned toward you.

“go on, make a wish!” she encouraged.

you closed your eyes so tightly, putting your hands together with exaggerated seriousness, lips moving silently as if asking the universe for something only a child could imagine. then, with a deep breath, you blew out all the candles in one go. the room erupted in cheers—your mother, your father, your kindergarten classmates, even some of elias’s business partners they’d invited over that day.

“what’d you wish for, apple?” elias’s voice asked from behind the camera.

“i can’t tell you, dada, or it won’t come true,” you said, grinning, eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

the camera lingered on your face, the pure joy and belief shining in your eyes. elias could remember how the moment felt then, with both of you so young and so certain that everything good could be held together just by love and laughter. he felt a pang in his chest, a memory too nostalgic to hold without pain.

the video cut to the christmas morning of 2009—your mother was filming this time, narrating with a chuckle as she zoomed in on the chaos of ripped wrapping paper and new toys scattered across the floor.

“look at this mess! who do you think is going to clean all this up?” she asked, mockingly stern, zooming in on you hiding behind the couch.

“dada!” you’d shouted, giggling as you peeked out from your hiding spot.

“wow, selling me out, huh?” elias’s younger self chuckled as he leaned into the frame, pretending to growl and chasing you around as you giggle and try to run away from him.

the frame then jumps to another clip of you in the center of the frame, small and wide-eyed, your tiny hands busy, your concentration fixed on hanging ornaments on the lower half of the tree. you were talking to yourself in that way only small children do, a quiet monologue about which ornaments went where and how important it was that they were balanced just right.

“that’s the glittery one!” your mother’s voice came through, rich with warmth and humor. the camera wobbled slightly as she adjusted the focus, trying to capture your handiwork up close. “are you sure it should go there?”

“mama,” you said, in that exasperated tone only a preschooler could muster, “i know where it goes.”

“oh, i see,” she laughed, the sound a warm, gentle ripple through the screen. she shifted the camera to capture elias as he stepped in, feigning seriousness, hands on his hips.

“is the decorating committee open to suggestions?” he asked, crouching down to your level with a grin.

“no,” you replied without missing a beat, making him chuckle.

he then reached over, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion, swinging you in a wide circle. you shrieked with delight, half trying to wriggle free, half clinging to him.

in the background, your mother could be heard laughing too, her voice just as bright and full of love as your giggles. as he lowered you back down, she moved closer, still holding the camera as she leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“who’s the little ornament expert now?” she murmured, voice so close, so impossibly tender. she kissed you on one cheek, and elias joined in, kissing you on the other, making you squirm between them, giggling with each kiss.

“stop, stop!” you squealed, caught between pushing them away and clinging to them. “you’re both squishing me!”

“we just can’t help it,” your mother said, a soft laugh trailing off as she kissed you again. “you’re so loved, my sweet baby, you know that?”

elias’s voice was quieter but equally warm as he added, “we love you so, so much, little apple. more than anything.”

he pressed another kiss to your cheek, lingering, his voice almost catching, as if he was holding onto the moment where he truly felt like he was the richest man on earth.

elias hit pause. the screen froze on her face—her smile bright, eyes crinkling at the edges. he swallowed hard, feeling the tears well up before he could stop them. the years had done nothing to soften the edges of her absence. the house still echoed with her laugh some days, in small ways that felt like nothing and everything. he let the tears fall, a quiet acceptance of how deeply he still missed her.

finally, he pressed play again, as if he couldn’t bear to stop watching. he watched you grow through that grainy screen: you with your first lost tooth, your first day at school, your proud insistence on making dinner—omelette burnt to a crisp that elias and your mother had eaten anyway, praising every bite.

and then the last video came, a quiet day at the beach. the camera showed you and your mother on the sand, the waves lapping at your feet. she held your hand as the wind whipped through her hair, her smile soft and quiet as she watched you point excitedly at the seagulls swooping overhead. she bent down, saying something to you that he couldn’t quite hear over the sound of the waves, but he remembered the feeling of that day, of everything feeling just right in that one moment, sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of color.

he watched as the sun began to sink lower in the video, casting a warm orange glow across the sand. and then she looked back at the camera, at him, her gorgeous eyes meeting his through the lens.

“come here, darling,” she called, beckoning him with a smile.

the camera dropped slightly as he walked toward her, and for a moment, all that was visible on the screen was a blur of sky and sand. then he set the camera down in the sand, angled just so, and the three of you were together, laughing as you stood side by side, the waves lapping at your ankles, the horizon stretching endlessly behind you.

and then, just like that, the tape ran out, the screen going to static.

elias sat there in the silence, his chest tight, the memories pressing in on him, so beautiful and aching all at once. he hadn’t let himself revisit these moments in years, too afraid of what they’d stir up, but now the memories felt as vital as air. he could almost hear her voice, feel the weight of her hand on his shoulder, see the way her eyes had softened every time she looked at you both.

he leaned back in his chair, one hand covering his mouth as he closed his eyes, letting the repressed emotions wash over him. the tears spilled over, hot and unbidden, the kind that left him feeling vacant and full at the same time.

he never cried in front of you like this, too afraid that it’d break the fragile tape that held the dam of your devastation upright. but now, elias didn’t even try to wipe the tears away. he let himself feel it all, the bittersweet ache of love and loss, the memories that filled the empty spaces your mother had left behind.

the silence seemed different now though, less hollow, filled with echoes of laughter and whispers of promises he’d made, long ago, to keep always keep going—for you, and for her.

[thisisnotthenerd]

god what a fantastic finale of mentopolis. phenomenal work from everyone.

a list of my favorite things about this episode:

concocting a plan to both get money from don avaricci while not killing conrad. the character arc that dan fucks went through in mentopolis was slow but my god was it funny

imelda flashing her boobs and getting four gangsters on her side

dan flashing his dick and getting it shot immediately. on sight.

the diamond hard balls coming back to deflect the bullets

the mechanical changes that came from the key-pressure combination

ivana rolling a 59. truly what the fuck. two nat 20s and a 19 in front of the board. they watched that happen in real time. and trapp rolling a one sturdy. getting punched a quarter mile out of the station.

dan's heroic sacrifice for conrad fully made me tear up. the fact that he was distracted by the glorious revolution of pleasure does not detract from this

the adrenaline injection moment and curios moxie intake

all of the effort that went into medical attention for dan. fucking wilton. the hand spit guy is dan fucks' dad?!?!?!

the fix taking that key from madam loathing! he did it! he put it in his craw!

conrad talking madam loathing down with a d100 spirit roll! sometimes the mechanics really do tell stories in a way you just can't get in standard media

the 11 sturdy. the 57 spirit. (alex's favorite number because it's the number of Heinz varieties)

elias taking the initiative and getting going

the fix menacing don avaricci with dinoflagellates and punching the shit out of him

the birthday cake!

elias getting an ice skating date with the coffee shop girl!!!!!!!!

i owe my sister a call!!!!!!!

the entire epilogue was great: elias becoming a whistleblower and getting the mind control shut down, anastasia & fawn's relationship, conrad & dan fucks' business partnership, curio finding foot stuff

the fix and pasha get their own bullet point. half of that was hank and brennan just fully flirting. going to madam loathing's to: find ichabod, who had been running nostalgia's, stuck in the past for so long, propose (after 20 years of marriage? Hank what is happening?), find out madam loathing, now guilta is going on a self-discovery trip, fully just get her house, and custody of all of elias' repressed childhood interests!

anastasia running for public office alongside frank freeze (pay attention!) after getting the DA arrested in court

and of course, imelda capping it off with chattanooga choo choo

truly what a fantastic season. while both of the kids on bikes/brooms seasons i.e. mismag and mentopolis were fantastic, i think mentopolis had just enough time to really get a little more crunchy mechanically, and that resulted in some great moments in this finale specifically. this is a sidequest i will be coming back to for rewatching. i loved it.

[murderandcoffee]

more (increasingly silly) trans archives because i'm normal about them

sasha gives martin pointers on how to shave and trim his facial hair, and in return he walks her through the best ways to paint your fingernails without making a huge mess

tim and jon met (pre-archives) before either of them had started to transition, so they've been kind of unofficial transition buddies since then, and celebrate milestones with each other

tim and sasha take martin out for dinner when he starts t, and they surprise him with a cake that says "IT'S A BOY!" (martin cries)

jon gathers a bunch of transfem resources from georgie once he learns that sasha is trans, and gives them to her in the form of a thick-as-hell binder with a little trans flag sticker on the front (he's highlighted important bits in pink and blue)

tim takes a fun little trip to hr (and elias's office) after cursing someone out for misgendering/deadnaming martin

jon silently hands out personalized pride/pronoun pins on the first day of pride month (he asked georgie to make them, as he does not have a pin press and that is not the kind of craft he knows anything about)

martin implies to jon at some point that he's used to people not seeing him as a man and the next day there's a new nameplate on martin's desk that reads "MR. BLACKWOOD" (nobody ever comes down there so there's nobody except the other archival assistants to see it, but martin still loves it)

the archival assistants have trans movie nights, where they pick movies and then (drunkenly) decide which characters have the most tgirl/tboy swag (this has led to shouting matches when tim wants to claim a character for team tboy and sasha wants to claim that same character for team tgirl)

tim gets sloshed and cries because he can't find his dick. sasha (equally sloshed) offers to give him hers. martin (a little less sloshed) has to hide all the scissors before the other two do something incredibly stupid

after he gets top surgery, the archival assistants give jon a shirt that says "I GOT MY TITS CHOPPED OFF AT CLAIRE'S"

okay that's all i've got for now

[meo-eiru]

Dear diary.

Elias was pretty, beautiful, breathtaking— Really, you could go on and on forever with synonyms of how pleasing to the eye the man was, but even as nice looking as he was nothing could hide how ugly he was inside,

He was just like a rotting piece of candy, covered in beautiful wrapping, advertising how good it was inside and how you would never ever regret it, but as you unfurled the frilly plastic you would only start to see the sickening mold clinging to the insides on the wrapper,

Disgusting, repulsive and vile were the contents inside the “treat”, green and white blotches bloomed over the sugary appetizers, it was not beautiful anymore, for you had discarded the only thing that could have ever blanketed what was really inside,

You would never tell him the double meaning your words had, when you would tell him that he looked as pretty as a treat— a rotten one, but nevertheless a treat,

And things would stay that way for as long as you could, he was sweet, saccharine sweet, tooth rotting sweet, your teeth aches just thinking of how pretty he was, but you knew that even the prettiest of façades could never truly hide what is beneath,

Love, smiles 💕

(I locked in on this one, I ate a rotten candy yesterday and thought of this for Elias 🫶🏼🫶🏼)

You really did lock in oh my god I love this

The rotten candy symbolism is actually so on point, you can even go one more step ahead and call him a fake cake. Like those wedding cakes with several layers, you think they look very pretty and delicious only to realize it's fake and hallow. It looks delicious but there's nothing to eat inside, an imitation of a cake.

It's just so, so unfortunate. He has so much love inside but barely anything that could make him worthy of the same love. Fated to be like this from birth, maybe it would've been better if god hadn't given him any self awareness at all. Because Elias knows just how worthless he is inside more than anyone ever could. But even so his heart yearns for you, and he will continue yearning for you until he is nothing but history.

[ashblooddragons]

In Ripe And Ruin

This was a request by @vavafaure1994 I'm so sorry this took me so long to make! I hope it was worth the wait!

also special thanks to @sugutoad for making this fics moonboard! I don't know what I would do without you girly!

Word Count: 2504

Warnings: semi public sex, dirty talk, oral f receiving, swearing, p in v sex, loss of Virginity, purity kink, blood kink, tell me if I missed anything

Summary: When Lady Elia Martell came to the Red Keep for her little sister's betrothal, she didn't expect to catch the attention of a certain Rouge Prince and most certainly didn't expect this visit to involve her being the one betrothed and not her little sister. also this is my first ever smut so do be kind, I tried my best!

I can’t believe my father agreed to come to the little Prince Jacaerys sixth nameday. Though I shouldn’t be surprised, not after seeing that letter from the heir asking if her son and my youngest sister could be betrothed.

I watch as the soon-to-be betrothed run around together. “She will be Queen one day if we agree to this match. Don’t you wish for Arianne to sit on a throne just as you will sit mine?” My father says as he smiles and waves to the heir to the iron throne. 

“But that is the thing, Father, she will not sit on the throne, only look pretty beside it with that boy's seed leaking down her legs as she clutches her swelled belly.” I fire back through clenched teeth as I smile at what seems to be a prancing lion turned human, and not in a good way. 

“Elia.” He chides

“I speak only the truth you seem to be blind to, Father. What you forget at every turn is that we are not like them, we do not see Bastards as sinful as they do. They will kill my dear sister the moment that diseased King falls from that throne. For they know what we all do, that boy, nor his brothers are true-born Velaryons. No matter how hard the Princess so direly tries to make everyone believe they are. And when the King dies, a war will break out, and I will not let little Arianne be in the middle of it.” I hiss back before walking away as my father calls for me.

I walk over to a food table and pick up a honey cake. “Those are my personal favorites as well.” I hear someone say behind me, his voice sent shivers of exhilaration down my spine. I turn and see none other than The Rouge Prince himself smirking at me.

“Well, that’s a shame for you as this is the last one.” I say as I take a bite with a smirk.

He chuckles and looks at my eyes inquisitively. I know why, though my black ringlets and olive skin say I am a  Martell, but my eyes of vibrant Lavender say I’m a Targaryen. “Viserra’s daughter, Elia Martell right?” He inquires as he reaches for a vine of grapes, popping one into his mouth.

My mother passed birthing me, I’m the only child of Princess Viserra. I’ve been told if it weren’t for my hair and skin tone I’d be her clone and anytime I see her portrait I can’t blame them as I at times think someone had ruined one pf mone own only to realize it is my mother’s. 

“What gave it away?” I tease smiling when he laughs fondly. His laugh a deep and sultry sound and the way he’s looking at me as if I’m a gazelle and he’s a lion about to pounce on its prey and have the most delectable feast, leaves me breathless trying to find my footing again.

“What brings a sand Queen to this shit-filled city? Surely there is more to your visit than just making men think most debauched thoughts.” He says as he reaches for two wine glasses from a servant passing by, handing me one with his signature smirk. 

“I had not meant to make men think such ways, though if they are that is their problem is it not?” I say looking down at my dress, in Dorne it would be seen as normal and lovely dresses fit for the heiress to her families seat. But the dress of the finest silks and chiffon only reserves me disgusted looks and the word ‘whore’ whispered behind me as I pass.

“Hmm, that doesn’t answer my question, why are you here? Dorne only comes here if it is of the utmost importance.” 

“My little sister, Arianne,” I say pointing to her talking to the little Prince Jacaerys. “There’s a possible betrothal between her and the little Prince. I do not think it is the right choice, there is a war to come, you know this just as well as I do there is no avoiding it. I do not want her to be in the middle of something she has no part in. She is too gentle and kind for your cruel and septic city and Kingdom filled with snakes and vultures reader to swallow her whole. I do not like that the Princess is now bringing house Martell into her mess because she can not clean it up on her own. Targaryen problems should stay with the Targaryens” I say seriously.

“Are you not also Targaryen?” He says amused looking me up and down trying to asses me after my little speech.

Underestimated me, you will learn to never do that my Prince. 

“Yes I am, I even claimed the she-dragon Sliverwing, but it is not I the Princess wishes to bring into her problems, it is my sister a girl with no Targaryen blood. If it were me that would be a different story, but it isn’t.” 

“Well, put.” He says as he holds out a hand to me. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?” He asks and I take his hand letting him lead me to the horde of dancing courtiers and ladies. 

“So tell me, I had heard you claimed Sliverwing, though not how you had done it.” He says gripping my waist holding me close enough I feel his breath against my ear sending a shiver of want down my spine.

“I kept seeing something in the clouds, it felt like it was pulling at my very soul, calling to me. One night I couldn’t handle it anymore I left the keep and followed that pull and when I finally felt the end of the string, felt it finally slacken, there she was, as if waiting for me to build the courage to face her. I climbed her back, I didn’t need to say a word she thrust herself into the air letting out a happy roar. I knew then with her wings beating under me what I had done, what every child, especially a Targaryen child dreams of, I claimed a dragon.” 

When I looked up at him again he seemed enthralled with my story. I gasp when I see how close we’ve gotten, our lips only an inch apart only needing one of us to bridge the gap and our lips would be locked. I look him in the eyes and see the lust filling his amethyst pools and I know he sees the same lust in my Lavender ones. 

“It’s interesting that our souls know where we belong before we do, don’t you think?” He asks in a tone that tells me there is a darker, more debauched reason behind this question.

When he turns me in time with the beat of the music I feel dizzy with lust, the only thing grounding me is him grabbing my hands so my arms are crossed against my chest and my back rests against his chest. when I look up at the royal table I see the Crowned Princess glaring at me and the Prince, I see the rage she feels towards me and the want she has for The Rouge Prince.

“And what is your soul telling you now, my Prince?” I ask turning my head to look up at him and when I do I feel his breath fan my lips. I feel a coil of need, of lust, form in my abdomen as I feel the large hardness of him against me.

“That it seems we need privacy.” He says as he grips my hand pulling me through the horde of dancers until he leaves the throne room. He continues to drag me until he finds a secluded corridor, he then turns and kisses me walking me back until my back hits the cool stone of the keep. 

I gasp when he dips his head down and starts to suck and bite at the soft skin of my neck. “How have I lived this long without tasting your sweet lips, sweet skin? Is that cunt of yours just as sweet?” He asks as he rucks up the skirt of my dress, I feel his hand grips my thigh as the other grips my hair keeping my head in place as he devourers my lips again swallowing any moans or whimpers that would escape me. 

I gasp when I feel his fingers graze against my wet core. “Gods you're already wet, I knew you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.” He says as he gets down on his knees in front of me lifting my leg onto his shoulder. 

When I realize what he is trying to do I grip his hair stopping his advancement. “I–I’ve never–.” I stutter out blushing as he gives me a wolfish grin.

“Your telling me this sweet cunt is unspoiled? That I am the first to taste it?” He asks as if in a trance.

“Yes, I still have my maidenhood.” I say breathlessly. 

I gasp at the way he looks up at me after learning of this, it’s the look of a madman, of a man given all he has desired on a silver platter and now it is time for him to feast. 

And with that thought in my mind, he delves forward between my legs to lick at my wet core. I slap my hand to my lips trying to muffle my moans. 

I can’t help but fear someone will hear us, more so me I suppose, as of course he couldn’t bring me to his chambers or even a storage closet, only a secluded corridor where anyone can hear or see us. For some reason the thought of someone catching us excites me, making me clench on nothing.

I feel his tongue inside my core and I move my skirts so I can see him better. When I do I see him smirking up at me as he sucks on my pearl, I throw my head back letting out a loud moan. 

“Seven hells, keep singing for me, love.” I hear him growl against me as he laves at my pearl and he sinks a finger inside me curling it just right to make me see stars. As he licks and sucks, pumps and curls I feel my legs tremble the only thing keeping me up is the Prince.

“Please! Please! Please!” I beg not fully sure for what though all I know is the coil in my gut is hot and tight and I need it to release.

“Not yet, love, you don’t get to peak without me.” He says as he rises back up keeping a grip on my thigh as he unties his trousers. 

When he pulls out what must be his cock I gasp and shack my head. “Th–there's no way that is going to fit.” 

I only hear him chuckle as he kisses my neck again gripping my other thigh so he can lift me and my legs wrap around his waist. “It’ll fit, it may be painful but I’ll make it fit.” 

I feel him tap the head of his cock to my pearl making me whimper before he positions himself to my core stretching me to the point of pain. I bite his shoulder fighting back my scream of pain as tears roll down my face. 

“Shh, it’s alright, love just relax.” He whispers as he hisses as he tries to push his way through. “Fuck your a vice, you weren’t lying about being a maiden.” He groans

I continue to cry and whimper as I bite his shoulder until he pushes his way through till he bottoms out, once he does I feel something snap.

He rests his brow to mine waiting for me to relax before he moves, he kisses my tears as they fall slower and slower now as the pain subsides to want and need. I try and move my hips silently imploring him to move, and when I look up at him again I see him smirking down at me. 

“Please.” I whimper out.

“Please what, love?” He teases and I look up at him pleadingly. “Tell me what you need.”

“Move, please move.” I say not knowing what else to say to convey my need.

He lets an animalistic growl as he starts to thrust into me, gripping my hips and plush thighs. I bite my lip trying to hold back my moans only letting the whimpers and whines of pleasure leave my throat.

“Fuck, look at that mess.” I hear him groan as he looks down at where we meet. When I pick my dress up more so I can see what he speaks of,  I see the smear of blood coating his cock and white hairs upon his pelvis. 

“I’m sorry.” I moan out gripping his shoulders tighter as he thrusts into me faster and harder. 

“Don’t be, love, it’s a welcome sight.” He says before capturing my lips in a searing kiss that leaves me breathless as he fucks me against the stone wall. 

I moan into his lips until he pulls back looking me in the eyes as he hits me where I see stars. “You won’t need to worry for your sister anymore, love. For she won’t be needed for an alliance anymore once I fuck my babe into you and wed you before the gods.” 

I can only moan and nod my head in response completely lost to the pleasure he is giving me. He continues to thrust into me hitting me each time in the spot that makes my mind go black. That is until he grips my hair and makes me look at him.

“Fucking say your mine, say you’re made for me.” He demands as he continues to thrust into me.

“I’m your, my Prince, all yours.” I gasp out feeling my peak on the precipice 

“Daemon.” He growls out.

“Wh–what?”

“Call me by my fucking name.” He says emphasizing each word with a sharp thrust. 

“Daemon! Daemon! Daemon!” I cry out as my peak crashes over me in sharp suffocating waves. I swear I hear him groan as he releases his spend in me but I can’t be sure as all I can hear is the pounding of my own heart in my ears.

Once we’ve both come down from our highs he sets me on my own two feet again steadying me as my legs still tremble. I try and ignore the feel of his sticky seed leaking from my core and roll down my legs.

“Did you mean it? Did you mean what you said of marrying me?” 

“Yes.” Is all he says in return.

I don’t know why I believe him, but when I look into his eyes I find nothing but conviction and honesty.

Seems my sister won’t be getting betrothed after all, but me instead. this is most definitely not how I thought this night would go. I think with a chuckle as I kiss the Pri-Daemon again saying in all but words I accept.

Taglist @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @baybaybear1

[the-voldsoy]

Parallels/references/a couple theories about TMAGP EP1:

grouped in order of actual theories, vague things i noticed, and even vaguer comments! (using the same terminology as in TMA for ease)

HEAVY Spoilers !!

Stronger:

“Colin, mate, you know you’re never getting out of here” +won't leave until they figure out the errors “Or they finally kill me” → couldn't quit the Archives because they thought they just wanted to understand and know (but later found out they could only get out by dying or blinding)

Lena talks about cake → Mr Spider doesn't like cake + Elias seemed to love the stuff

pub called The Seward -> Peter Lukas vibes?

“There has to be a way to do this online” → haha ! you wish. (AKA supernatural interferes with internet so it cant be dont online)

“There's this box for a "Response 121" on the form.” → MAG121 is the episode Jon is woken from his coma/brought back to life by Oliver Banks

Talk about how there used to be a separate “Response” department → Elias tells Jon its their job to watch, not interfere (iirc)

Old as shit computer → old as shit tape recorders

AKA: the computer seems to be the only thing that can handle the supernatural

“ "Dolls comma watching" or "Dolls comma human skin" “ → violently Stranger and possibly Eye, has me in mind of MAG24 (the one the Calliope is first mentioned in, where the boyfriend is turned into a doll iirc) 

Barely understandable, long as shit file names →barely understandable, long as shit files names by Gertrude 

[in response to where the files go] “some long dead database that no one will ever look at or care about” → the Archives were unmanaged, decrepit and barely used by anyone outside of them

Work during the night - no sun, cut off from outside world → worked in a basement - no sun, cut off from outside world

Martin (and later Jon) taking the statements → did the same in TMA but in reverse (although I’d love to know if there's any reason behind them being called Chester and Norris, besides what's stated?)

Haha Martin and Jon (and Jonah) are now part of the World Wide Web → shit now they're part of the Web (just like with the tape recorders !!)

Someone talks about how they're sorry, they should've listened, couldn't face not hearing him again → martin @ jon and vice versa

Stranger statement with hints of the Dark → first TMA statement was a Stranger in the dark, and it does put me in mind of the Anglerfish tbh

Sorting system for the statements (although there's is a Lot more detailed and v different) → Smirke’s Fourteen

Gwen openly does not like Lena → literally anyone @ Elias

Asked if they were tricked into working here → well, we know the Archives and Elias

“The awful, terrible thing that landed you here?” → most of the Archives (excluding Sasha and maybe Martin) had something that made them Marked, that mostly led to them working there

Someone who's into spelunking listed the Institute as “cleared” → who could that be (if we know them at all)? Buried avatar, i'd guess, but we don't really know any of them

Photos of the Institute don't show up → photos of the supernatural don't work

The Institute was “weird”, made the subject paranoid → lingering Eye

Fire twenty years ago that burned the Institute → Like the fire at Hilltop Road? Or like that time Gertrude tried to burn down the Institute?

Third floor was the most burned → assuming that's the top floor (and correct me if i'm wrong), wasn’t Jonah in (and later killed) on the top floor?

“offices like little cells” → employees were certainly trapped ! also Millbank Prison

Worried non-existent doors were going to slam shut → the Distortion

Weren’t any papers → left behind before the Institute came to this Somewhere Else (assuming it's the same Institute)? (we need an actual name for the original universe and this Somewhere Else)

Suspicious stains on some floors → my darling, that is blood ! or possibly squished worms, or ink. or possibly something Else

“an old wooden thing with a bunch of similar symbols on” → genuinely unsure what this could be

Strange symbols → For all the Fears, or just the Eye, i wonder? I think i remember them saying something about an Eye symbol at this point, but now i can't find where

“you get a job, I get a fresh victim. It’s all in your contract.” → Elias @ his employees

 “To new beginnings, with old friends” → to a new beginning, with our old friends Jon, Martin and Jimmy Magma :)

“You’re not as clever as you think you are. You think you've got us all fooled, that no-one knows you're listening, But I do. I know. I’m going to find you and then…” → hi what did he mean by this

They (jon, martin & jonah) are Watching and Listening and following through technology→ just like Elias (Panopticon vibes tbh) and Sergey Ushanka

Vaguer (idk if theres anyhting here, but wanted to include it anyway):

Alice loves coffee -> Martin loved tea

Meeting in a cemetery → Sasha with Michael pre-prentiss attack, Naomi Herne 

Not wanting to stay at home because it's full of memories → Jon moving with Georgie, Martin moving to the Archives

Gwen Bouchard wants Lena’s job → Bouchard (appeared to) climb the job ladder quicker than he should have

Heh bug list → corruption

 “You don’t seem like the usual hopeless wasters Lena hires” “The awful, terrible thing that landed you here?” → okayy no need to be rude. But anyways the OG Archives crew were actually pretty disconnected from the rest of the world +were barely there by choice?

“freight cars near Brighton” → hey where did Melanie get her first Slaughter mark ?

“it’s not too awkward working with an ex?” → Georgie and Jon?

FR3-d1 -> i feel like there's something there, but i cannot figure it out

Just words that made me irrationally scared:

Stranger(‘s)

Distortion

Opposites:

Starts with a party for someone leaving → couldn't quit the archives

“ …you are perfectly within your rights to resign. No one is forcing you to stay here.”

please put any opinions/additions in the tags !!

[regainingparadise]

Because I'm desperately waiting for the new episode of Great British Bake Off on Netflix, have my Magnus Archives/Bake Off Headcanon:

Martin goes on the Great British Bake-Off

Probably S1 Martin, because I want S1 Sasha & Tim dynamics, but it would also be delightful to have Mr. "I have personal experience with the supernatural" Blackwood be in the tent trying to act like he didn't almost get eaten by a worm lady.

Martin isn't much for cooking (per his abundance of ready meals and canned peaches) but in this headcanon he does love to bake

I want this to be the older version of Bake Off with Mel & Sue, because I think they'd be so good with him. But Noel would absolutely have a field day with the fact that Martin is doing supernatural research.

About his bakes:

There as at least one Showstopper display that is modeled after a statement

In fact, I think he definitely creates a biscuit version of Naomi Herne's statement in two scenes: A vanilla biscuit-Naomi in a gingerbread cemetery complete with fog made of sugar, and Naomi outside Moorland House

This causes a minor crisis for Elias because the Lukas's are Not Pleased and demand to know why Elias didn't put a stop to this. (The reason is, Elias knew that Martin was on the show, but didn't bother to pay attention to what he was doing)

Several of his bakes are flavors that he particularly knows people in his life are fond of--pastry week he dedicates his signature bake to Jon with Jon's favorite curry blend; chocolate week he dedicates to Sasha who is an absolute chocolate fiend; cake week he makes Tim's absolute favorite cake. He even makes his mother's favorite baked goods for patisserie week, the kind she loved but could never afford.

Bread week is his worst week

Chocolate week is his second worst week--his chocolate just will not set properly in his showstopper

The "about Martin" footage

The producers try to film a bit of background with Martin's mum; Martin asks them not to, but they insist that it'll be fine! She won't be mean in front of cameras! She'll be so proud of him! It can't be that bad! Spoiler alert: It is, and Martin slinks off to cry away from the cameras. They don't use that footage

So instead they film him at work. Tim and Sasha bully Jon into being polite, which means that Martin is extra blushing and awkward around him

They ultimately show a clip of Martin carrying a cup of tea and a home-baked biscuit in to Jon's office, and then bantering with Tim and Sasha over slices of cake in the break room

The hosts definitely tease him about where he works

Martin is definitely at least a finalist, so Tim and Sasha drag Jon to the final picnic; Jon is very awkward but genuinely congratulatory (after all, he has been bribed with increasingly elaborate baked goods for the past 10 weeks, who wouldn't warm up to Martin after that).

[casual-socks]

HI IVE BEEN MASSIVELY HYPERFIXATED ON TMA FOR ABOUT A YEAR AND IVE SEEN MAYBE ONE (1) SINGULAR PERSON TALK ABOUT THIS and i am not even kidding when i say its been a passionate topic of conversation for that entire year. people know me for this. it comes up and my entire friend group SIGHS AUDIBLY because they know the 20 minute tangent i Will be taking

WHATTTTT IS GOING ON WITH GERARD KEAYS NAME. what. what???? okay i

youre telling me jonathan sims went to oxford college (relatively prestigious if my memory serves me correctly) for RESEARCH. for, to put it simply, READING. and he looks at the name gerard and goes Yeah looks like jared to me lets go with that!!! HELLO?? NO?? not even mentioning the fact that he is being what could easily be called possesed when reading these statements which leaves us with two options

1. the ENTIRETY OF ENGLAND CANNOT PRONOUNCE THE NAME GERARD.

2. jonathan sims is so monumentally stupid that he is somehow breaking this possesion for the 2 seconds it takes to say the name gerard (i love him i swear i will sound so so hateful for this entire post but its out of love)

and like??? its not even that EVERYONE is calling him jared? elias and gertrude have both called him gerard and thats just off the top of my head. i also think jon said it correctly ONEEEE SINGULAR TIME. Just the once.

now i feel it necessary to mention jared hopworth here as well. because why, why on gods green earth, would you name a character gerard. pronounce it jared. TURN AROUND AND GO. lets make another jared but this ones made out of meat and is sort of implied to not be too fond of gay people. Yeah he steals peoples bones. Yeah.

SO LIKE GERARD KEAY IS THE OBJECTIVELY SUPERIOR JARED EXCEPT HES NOT JARED HIS NAME IS LITERALLY GERARD?? FUCK YOU SO MUCH

so okay. sure whatever this podcast is sooo british that a bunch of people are just completely failing to pronounce gerard. sure. whatever you say.

GERRY?????? HIS FUCKING NICKNAME IS GERRY???????????? NO!!!!

NO. no. LOOK ME IN MY EYES. LOOK AT THE NAME GERARD. GER-ARD. AND YOURE TELLING ME YOURE GONNA CALL HIM JARED. SND THEN YOURE GONNA CALL HIM GERRY WITH A G???? gerry with a g. that is utterly ridiculous i cannot even believe this that is monumentally frustrating i cannot even begin to describe to you all the anger i have experienced over this particular bit because why on earth would you take that particular extra step??? gerard -> gerry. sure. thin ice, but sure. jared -> jerry. sure! yeah! makes sense! GERARD -> JARED -> GERRY? you must be playing some sick joke jonny sims. seriously. you are a cruel and usual man

now this is when i start to wind down, but far from where i finish. lets take a moment to really pause and soak in his actual name here.

gerard.

that is so unfortunate already i mean really, gerard is such a…. a name…. i mean his mom skins people and puts them in books and the cruelest thing i think she ever couldve done is honest to god name her son gerard.

keay.

now dont get me wrong. theres nothing seriously wrong with spelling it keay on principle. but god, really? youre gonna shove all this gerard gerry jared business in front of me and tell me his last name is just key but gone the extra mile. really feels like the cherry on top of a shit cake.

now if you consider gerards character i truly feel as though thats the deepest disservice here. gerard keay is an incredible character whos short appearance is so memorable and charming, and despite his VERY little screen time he still has an intriguing and well fleshed out character. really, gerard keay is so excellent character wise. But, every time i think about him for any more than 5 minutes, almost this exact rant is being told to whoever is unfortunate enough to be near me at the time.

another thing i think also really adds to this is just the nature of gerard keay. everything you can say about that guy could be ended with “and everone calls him jared for some reason”. hes emo and everyone calls him jared for some reason. his hair dye job is so miserable that EVERYONE mentions it and everyone calls him jared for some reason. he has mommy issues and everyone calls him jared for some reason.

okay i need to wrap this up before i start just repeating WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY for thousands of words but heres a graph i made for my friends in october 2022 when i was going on about this in the middle of my spanish class 👍👍

[earl-grey-teacake]

oooo logan’s magical paradox sounds interesting

The synopsis is provided in this ask. I can, however, offer a snippet.

*************

“George!” Alex moved in between George and the child who was a crumpled heap on the ground. A deadly silence settled between all of them until a whimper began to grow louder and louder.

*hic* *hic* “WAHHHHHHH!” Blood was dripping from his nose and a dark purple bruise was forming on his forehead. The cute, chubby face turned a violent red as streams of tears fell down the child’s face.

“Logan?” Alex bent down tentatively, an arm outstretched but not close enough to reach.

The little boy looked up and gave a timid smile, the blood from his nose was smeared all over his face. “It is Logan, right?”

Logan didn’t respond, only giving a shaky nod.

“Hey, how about you come here and let me clean your face? Come on.” Alex opened his arms and Logan came rushing in, smushing his blood, tears, and snot covered face all over Alex’s jacket.

The other two stared in shock as Alex soothed the crying child.

“Call James” he mouthed to Elias.

“I’ll call the others. They might know how to help.” George said, looking quite shell-shocked at the fact he attacked a child.

Logan cried softly as Alex carried him to the couch and tried to clean up the bloody mess on Logan’s face. Elias applied a healing spell to stop the blood and soothe the deep purple bruise on Logan’s forehead. George sat on the far end of the L-shaped couch, wanting to be close but clearly worried about his recent actions.

“There, that should do it.” The spell transformed the bruise into a light pink color.

“Hahhh!” Logan giggled as the sparkles of light disappeared.

“Did it tickle?” Alex grinned.

Logan nodded. “Smells minty. Like the blue jar.”

“Blue jar? Oh you mean the vaporub!”

Before Logan could respond, a knock cut through the conversation. Logan’s eyes widen with fear before he grabbed at Alex’s hoodie and hid his face in it, his body trembling.

George jumped up to open the door, revealing James, Lewis, Max, and Oscar. Oscar looked as if he ran the length of the hotel to get here judging by the sweat on his brow and the heaviness of his breathing. Before George could invite them in, Oscar shoved his way through.

“Where’s Logan?” Oscar panicked, his eyes darting everywhere in the room before settling on the trembling child in Alex’s arms. He knew those blonde locks anywhere.

“Logan?” Oscar stepped towards him to get a better look.

“GO AWAY!” Piercing eyes stared into Oscar’s soul. He knew those eyes. He dreamt of those eyes. But never once in his life did he think those eyes would state at him with such fear and hatred.

*****************

Please Enjoy❤️

[beheldandcompelled]

not exactly a headcanon or a fic rec but A Third Different Thing!

A fic idea I back in the day was Jon denying himself statements and Elias being like, hm, well, I must do something about this.

And that something is taking Jon out to a nice dinner. And Jon is suspicious AF, of course, but it's really just a nice dinner. Lovely wine. A great cassoulet. Elias is his usual mildly insufferable self, charmingly annoying.

Then it's time for desert, and Jon is like, "No, that's alright, I'm actually full?"

Elias: but are you really?

And then one by one every single person in the restaurant comes to sit at their table and starts to tell Jon about the Horrific Fear-Related Trauma that happened to them. And Jon can't leave because he's hungry and he's not strong enough to resist.

And for the rest of the evening, Elias just watches his Archivist feed. 🫶

Oh. My. God.

Absolutely yes. Elias can't stand Jon not eating properly.

Also love thinking about Elias asking if Jon's ready for another and Jon not really being able to answer.

They both get dessert that night. And I'm sure Elias also orders a cake for them to split.

Thank you so much for this 😭 if you ever decide to write it, i of course would eat that up i can't resist Elias making sure his Archivist is taking care of himself.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Sometimes I truly want to sit into the Elias and Jon's dynamics pre-archives/Season 1 because (nottobepettyaboutpeoplewhoassumesjonautomaticallydislikeseliasfor???) I feel like it informs SO MUCH of how they behave later on. They clearly already have some sort of relationship that's based on both respect, freedom and guidance and, I feel, conversations.

"He's not smoking again, is he?" implies that Elias is not only aware Jon used to be a smoker, but has been at least involved in a periphical manner to Jon /stopping/ smoking, and approving of it. (Which, yes, drives me insane. We need so much more jonelias fics where Elias takes,, an active role in helping Jon stop that particular habit)

The fact the very first words that Jon adresses to the tape recorders are for Elias; that he's already discussed with him the problematic statements at all!

Jon acknowledging that Elias is the most knowledgeable man when it comes to the paranormal, which! again! I see so little people talk about but is a clear expression of Jon recognizing and admiring Elias's skills in his particular domain! AND is possibly the reason why he keeps coming back to him later on (and other people). Elias just! knows his stuff. And possibly he used to share a bit more with Jon :').

I don't know, the mere fact that Elias is like "Jon, we got a complain about you" and Jon only snarks "Fine, I'll be more lovely" and it's the end of it is insane to me. I know Elias IS known to be a passive boss, but EVEN SO. The freedom that's given to Jon, all along! Wild and beautiful.

Them flirting over Jon's birthday cake. I can see the scene. Their eyeing each other like they're two seconds away from kissing and everybody else has a moment of "oh, god, please don't, why do you make things uncomfy"

I don't know what this post is actually about, just. Elias and Jon. Getting along. From day one. JON ACTUALLY LIKING AND ADMIRING HIM. Yknow.

[bloodedrosesandteacups]

sinceretly, elias deserve all love, just look at that puppy eyes and angel view , such a cake in the world

[rynnthefangirl]

Ranking Aegon Targaryens by how much I like them:

1. Aegon III- My boy. My beloved. My poor little meow meow. It’s not even a contest y’all. I love angsty characters and Aegon Dragonbane takes the cake. Also his relationships with his family are so sweet🥺 and he has such a pure heart🥺 So many characters respond to their suffering by turning to hate or revenge or violence or selfishness. But Aegon III? His spirit was broken, and in the wake of all that he clung not to any of those things, but to family and compassion and his duty to his people. He's so tragically beautiful and I want to know every last detail of his reign George please.

2. Aegon V- who doesn't adore Egg?? He's so pure, but also low key unhinged, and what a wonderful combo! He is the One True Pro-Smallfolk King of Westeros, and I love seeing him have to confront the elitist feudal mindset he was raised with in the Dunk and Egg novellas. Also the tragedy of his character is utterly heartbreaking-- doomed by the narrative, all of Egg's lofty and noble goals lead inevitably to Fire and Blood at Summerhall. I would sell my soul for the Dunk and Egg novellas to be completed and to read a POV of Summerhall.

3. Aegon IV- controversial placement I know, but hear me out— he’s really really funny. Like seriously his character is so wildly entertaining. The biggest menace in the history of Westeros, King of Spite, the Ultimate Hater. His dynamic with his family is fascinating too. I want so badly to read about the interactions between him and Daeron, Viserys, Aemon, Daemon… I also want a POV story for this guy, I feel like his thought process would just be the most out of pocket thing ever.

4. Aegon son of Elia- Okay I haven’t got to Young Griff yet in the books and so it's kind of hard to rank a character I only have secondhand fandom knowledge of. Based on what I know of him though he seems cool? Of course he probably isn't the real Aegon, but even so baby Aegon is a sad and heartbreaking figure (justice for Elia!!! justice for Rhaenys!!! justice for baby Aegon!!!).

5. Aegon the Uncrowned - this poor boy is so so tragic. Say it with me folks- fuck Maegor!!!

6. Aegon I - I mean he is fine I guess? I don't have much of a strong opinion on him. Mostly I just think he's boring.

7. Aegon son of Aerys II and Rhaella - he's a baby.

8. Aegon son of Alyssa and Baelon- he's a baby.

9. Aegon son of Alysanne and Jaehaerys- he's a baby.

10. Aegon Lord of Dragonstone- I literally know nothing about him.

11. An empty spot just to emphasize how much I hate the last character on this list.

12. Aegon II- Fuck this asshole so much. I probably would like Aegon II fine as a character if his fans weren’t so insufferable (not all of them, just a subset). Nothing will turn me off a morally grey or evil character faster then hordes of people crying that he's actually just a poor victim who never had any choice or agency. Guess what— he did. He was a grown ass man and the most powerful person in the realm, he chose to be a rapist, he chose to accept and keep a crown that wasn’t his, he chose to start a war that killed thousands. I have literally zero empathy for this selfish prick, every thing that happens to him he asked for and I wish he had gotten worse.