Chapter Text
Thanks to my wonderful beta's and artists who have helped me when I felt like i was bashing my head against a brick wall.<br />
so big shout out to:
Desert-lily (https://desert-lily.tumblr.com/) (artist and bringer of mood board goodness)
Goth-Archivist (https://goth-archivist.tumblr.com/) (beta and spotter of bad spelling)
Sweet-Bun (https://sweet--bun.tumblr.com/ ) ( Artist and owner of the cutest moth Jon you will ever see)
Spellboundcities (https://spellboundcities.tumblr.com/) (Artist and possible superhuman...<br />
hang in there buddy)
Drumkonwords (https://drumkonwords.tumblr.com/) (Beta, cheerleader, pun enthusiast and discusser of British/American spelling stupidity)
My fellow Tim enthusiast, hero and champion of the booty shorts bookofwilds (https://bookofwildes.tumblr.com/) ( Beta, space maker, shouter of capital letters and key smashes)
special shout out to Triffid who might be part cryptid but is in good company and posted before me today so please check out the fic. and thankyou for bouncing ideas and getting sucked down the rabbit hole with me, even if you are cursed at one am (https://triffidsandcuckoos.tumblr.com/)
playlist compiled by me can be found here.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7cZoMYhB9rks9AlrVrUTql?si=J_I0SjQMS9OjdEoEiiE16Q
i will drop back in and edit the links and add art when it's available
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Editor-in-beef/tumblr.com
Editor-In-Beef
Anonymous asked: So I got drunk and I think I hit on my boss, I’ve been going through some stuff in my life and he was just THERE! What do I do?
A: Rule Number 7: Never EVER get involved with the people you work with. It can only end in disaster. The payoff isn’t worth it.
Time to look for a new job. Flirting is fine, but don’t cross the streams, you’ll end up with too much collateral damage. If you can’t laugh it off it’s time to move on.
X MrT X
******
“So Mr. Stoker, do you have any questions for myself regarding the role?”
Tim surveyed the man sitting across the large oak desk in his lavish desk chair, something about him made Tim very uneasy. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he wanted access to the library, Tim would have walked out of the interview.
Elias Bouchard was everything he hated about the upper rings of the publishing industry. Tim knew it would be just as bad here as it had been working for Obscurus Books, but there was only so much research he could do without the resources the Magnus Institute had in its possession, and well, if he was going to throw his life into research he might as well get paid for it.
What was it they said? Always have a question for your interviewer? Shows that you care about the company or some such bollocks…
“I take it you are a very hands on employer? I never expected to be interviewed by the Head of the Institute.”
There was something unnerving in the way the man’s smile seemed to die before it reached his eyes. The grin set upon his face seemed genuine, but there was something about the eyes. Did he dye his hair? The eyes didn’t fit his complexion at all, like someone had used the sharpen tool on Photoshop and just edged on the wrong side of overdone.
“I like to conduct interviews myself. It’s a tradition started by our founder Jonah Magnus and carried on by myself and my predecessors.” He gestured towards the paintings behind him. “You can’t really know who you're employing unless you see them first hand. Nobody is employed here unless I personally approve, I find I’m an excellent judge of character.”
Ah, he’s one of those bosses then. Tim tried to school his face into something that he hoped came across as genuine. “That’s refreshing in this day and age, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Not at all Mr. Stoker, I encourage my employees to be as open as possible. There are no secrets here, the Magnus Institute prides itself on its open door policy. Well, at least once you have signed that contract. The only place off limits is our archives, and that is more for protection from our current archivist rather than any of its contents.” The man sighed. “One of my less...better judgments, I assure you.”
Tim nodded along, unsure of what he was agreeing too.
“Anyway, in offering you the position, we would of course take into consideration any termination time owed at your current employer. I believe you agreed to the salary in your preliminary written interviews, but I have several others to interview before being able to offer you the position.” The man regarded him over the top of steepled fingers, “However Mr. Stoker, I see great potential in you. I will contact you by the end of the day.”
Tim understood himself to be excused. He shook the hand of the man who followed him to the door, fully aware of the fact he was still under observation. He kept his mind on the prospect of open access to the library, and not on the oppressive feeling of eyes on the back of his neck.
“Thank you again for your time, Mr. Stoker.” Mr. Bouchard now stood in the doorway looking out towards the waiting room, where three other people sat looking nervous with their portfolios in hand. “Miss Sasha James?”
The woman that Tim had been speaking to briefly got to her feet. She looked nervous, but from what he had attained before his own interview she was more than qualified for the role.
“Good luck,” he muttered and her face lit up, the nerves seemed to fall from her as she nodded before joining Mr. Bouchard at his office door.
There was something dark in Elias Bouchard's eyes as Tim caught his gaze.
Something was definitely wrong with the Magnus Institute, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.
*****
Editor-In-Beef
Anonymous asked: Hey Mr T, where are you? We miss you.
A: Hi anon - thanks for the ask. Life got real, what can I say but I’m sorry for my absence.
I got a new job, I start tomorrow. What's the phrase? New year, new me? Ignore the fact that it's July. I promise my usual guff will resume as soon as possible. Let me just get the lay of the new land beforehand, imagine if I end up working some boring office job, I'd have to leave. I live for the dramatic star crossed lovers.
X MrT X
*****
Editor-In-Beef
ALLmyFRiendsArealiens asked : BUT BUT BUT! What about Sambuca and Sunny… you can’t leave us hanging!
A: As if I would do that to you? Do you really think I would leave you on a cliffhanger? I have an update… and boy howdy is it a doozy.
Sambuca and the lovely Sunny, the world's biggest will they/won't they. Well, my dear followers, after the trials and tribulations that have been the last however many months (I think we're in double digits aren't we?) Sunny was last seen disappearing into the sunset with surprise option number three, Pinecone.
Pinecone snuck in with the final blow, knocking Sambuca out of the park with a wonderful play involving a large oversized inflatable dinosaur costume and a well-sung karaoke number. They were last seen disappearing on the northern line, hand in costumed hand.
Readers, I'm as shocked as you are. Who would have thought that after all this time we hadn’t even considered this as an option? But this brings me on to THE List.
Rule #13 : Never assume you're the only playing piece on the board.
In this big old game of love there are many players, you have to work for it! Don’t let it slip, be consistent. You don’t want to be beaten to the punch by a tyrannosaurus rex.
Have you seen their arms? How do they even hold hands? Wipe their butts? Make a bed? But I digress.
Rule #13 comes in many forms and should always be at the forefront of your mind. If you’re serious about the person, make sure they know every day. Because if you don’t, someone else will! If in doubt I refer you to the song Everybody Needs Someone to Love, from the Blues Brothers movie. Solid words to live by.
XMr TX
******
As far as first impressions went, Tim knew he had the skill to always make a good one.
So when he walked into the lobby of the Magnus Institute on his first day, he had none of that apprehension he often heard others talk about.
Tim knew himself well enough to adapt and survive in most social situations, and if that failed there was always rule #1, fake it til you make it.
So the fact that the receptionist looked less than amused with his harmless flirting when she pointed him in the direction of the induction momentarily threw him off his stride. Maybe he was out of practice? It had been a while since he had a first day, and before Danny had always been there to kick him up the arse and tell him to get his shit together when he doubted himself.
He wasn’t going to lie, he missed his brother something terrible as he had worked his way through his morning routine, trying so hard to remember the sound of Danny’s voice. He hated that his memory was fading.
He tried not to let the negative response from the receptionist drag him down further as he headed to the heart of the institute following the woman's vague directions. He knocked before entering Reading Room Two. Best to be polite; after all, if Mr. Bouchard had interviewed him, what’s to say he wasn’t going to take it upon himself to also do his induction?
However when he opened the door, Elias Bouchard was nowhere to be seen, but another familiar smiling face greeted him. It belonged to the woman he had spoken to before his interview. She sat in one of the uncomfortable looking chairs and looked up from the pile of paperwork before her when he entered. She seemed to relax as she recognised him, her smile going from a forced awkward thing to something that radiated warmth. Tim had a feeling the day was beginning to turn around; he and this potential new coworker with the gigawatt smile was just the beginning of it.
“You got the job then?” He returned the grin as he slid into the vacant chair at Sasha’s side.
“Apparently you’re my good luck charm, Mr. Stoker.”
“Call me Tim.” He offered her a hand. She gripped back like she had just agreed to a duel at dawn. Why did he think he had just met his match? There was something inquisitive in her eyes that flashed when he squeezed back just as firmly.
“Sasha, but why do I get the feeling you remembered that anyway?”
“You got me, I'm secretly a spy. I know all about you, Ms. Sasha James. Have they put you in Research too?” he inquired; he had been sure the job post had only been for one position.
“No, Artefact Storage, not that I have any idea why. I would have thought that was more your field of expertise.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anthropology degrees are probably more useful in curating items than poking around in Research I should imagine.” Sasha’s expression was a straight out invitation to question her morality.
“How did you-”
“I'm exceptionally good with computers, Tim. It's surprising what you can find with some well worded Google search terms.” The look of mischief suited her; maybe they could be friends, he already liked her style.
“I made such an amazing impact on you with my first impression that you had to stalk me? Is that a technique that works well for you?” If it was he might take it up in future, even if it was a bit creepy.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, turning back to the paperwork before her. Her hair fell loosely around her face where it had worked itself loose from her hair wrap.
“I was joking when I said I was a spy, but you're like some sort of James Bond character.” He moved towards her, elbows on the desk as he leaned into her space “Sasha James, secret agent.”
She chuckled under her breath and was about to reply when the reading room door swung open again and a harassed looking woman who appeared to be in her late sixties walked in. Her arms were full of manila files and she looked like this was the last possible place she wanted to be.
“Welcome to the Magnus Institute. My name is Diana, I'm the Head Librarian. Unfortunately, the Head of Research is on extended sick leave at the moment so myself and the library team will be your point of contact for the time being…” Tim had already begun tuning her out, his eyes now browsing over the large tomes that lined the room's walls.
Beside him, Sasha was busy taking notes. He should be listening, he knew he should, but right now his mind had wandered to what else Sasha had found out about him. Had she read about Danny’s disappearance? Did she know about his online presence, the fabricated reality that was his online persona, doling out advice that he had very little qualifications to be supplying? He was more than aware that the finely-crafted version of himself that he shared with the world was a million miles from the real him and the threads that pulled it together were frayed around the seams.
His mind was racing, unable to focus on the monotonous voice of the woman that stood before them. It wasn’t until Sasha knocked her knee against his that he realized whatever Diana had been talking about had come to an end.
“I’m needed in the library. Mr. Bouchard insists on open days at the most inopportune times. I shall send one of my assistants up and get them to give you a tour.” Tim found an I.D thrust into his hand and with that, Diana was out the door. Sasha laughed, her dark hair bouncing as she tried to muffle the sound with a cupped hand to her face. Tim was in agreement; Diana had been quite full on and he was starting to think there was something just a little bit odd about everyone who worked here. It would seem that Sasha thought the same.
“Do you think she ever comes up for air? Or do you think that she monologues in her sleep?”
“I dunno, Double-O-Sash, you’re the spy! I’d have thought you would have done surveillance on everyone in the institute before you started!” He turned the I.D over in his hand. It was just a standard plastic name card, so why did it feel like so much more?
“These seem pretty useless.” He indicated the card.
Sasha rolled her eyes, “Did you hear anything she said?”
Tim shook his head; what was the point in lying? No doubt they had an operational guidance manual the size of a phonebook that he would have to go through before his first pay cheque, whatever he had missed he was bound to pull out of that. It couldn’t be any more boring than listening to Diana’s deadened tone. “One lot of corporate spiel is the same as any other lot, I got the jist of it.”
“How did you get this job again?”
“My good looks and charming personality. Bouchard gave my ass one look and decided he would like to see it around more often.”
“Unbelievable,” Sasha shook her head, causing more of her hair to fall from below her hair wrap; she was looking at him with a look of exasperation and fondness. “Are you always like this?”
“Only on days that end in Y, and every second full moon; that's when I howl at the moon, grow fur and try and hump your le-”
The door opened and Tim cut off his train of thought.
The stranger smiled at them, he was trying to take up the smallest amount of space that he possibly could which was nigh impossible due to the man's height, his head all but grazing the doorframe. He sounded timid as he addressed them, “Sarah and Tom?”
He looked at Sasha, she shrugged before speaking “Sasha and Tim, but close…” The man in the doorway flushed, trying to make himself seem smaller. Tim attempted to figure out how tall he really was—he had to be taller than him— built like a rugby player, heavy set and broad. It would be quite intimidating if it wasn’t for the voice- warm and friendly, if not a little scared.
“I am so sorry! Diana told me … well, obviously the wrong thing. I’m Martin.” He indicated himself. “I’ve been sent to show you around.”
“Oh thank god, I was starting to think that everyone who worked here was over the age of eighty.” Sasha said and Tim agreed.
Martin smiled at them, his face seemed to light up when he did that, open and kind. It matched the voice, and despite only having known him a few moments, Tim had already taken to the man.
“There are a lot of people who’ve worked here since the dawn of time. The institute has institutionalised them, if you will,” he said, holding the door open for them to follow out of the room and along the wood-paneled corridor. “But don’t hold that against them. They’re a good lot- not everyone’s quite as intense as Diana.”
Martin pointed out different fire exits, lift access to all the floors (“ Never use the lift, I'm sure people go in and never come out again; the thing is only held together by some sort of magic. Seriously, take the stairs.”) the canteen and main break room ( “There's one on each floor but the one on the library level has the best biscuits and donuts on a Friday.”). He introduced them to people as he passed. Tim noticed the way he shrunk in on himself when he entered the library, as if Martin was trying to make himself invisible.
“Diana that bad?” Tim asked when they silently moved up the stairs to the Research Department.
“She’s just a lot,” Martin sighed, tapping his I.D against the pad that opened the doors to the research floor. So that was what the I.D was for. What were they researching that needed to be kept behind keycard access?
The research department wrapped around one side of the institute, the long wall of windows overlooked the central courtyard where a large tree sat. A set of steps ran down from each wing into the courtyard, a secluded place fenced in on all sides apart from an access passage that led out into the busy street. Benches had been set around the courtyard, with people gathering there to gossip and smoke. It was a mixed bunch, some more dressed down than others. Tim’s eyes fell upon a man lurking in the passage, tucked away from the rain, his long black coat almost hiding him in the shadows. The man looked up at that point and caught sight of Tim in the window. He glowered, flipping him off with a heavily tattooed hand.
“Charming,” he muttered under his breath as Martin turned to see what he was looking at. “Does he work here?”
Martin shrugged. “Might be a student, we have open days and they come in to use the library. Diana has a fit because we get a lot of people who don’t fit her idea of an ‘academic.’”
Sasha gave a knowing nod. “Yep, we had some of them where I used to work. You have to fit their narrative or they make it your problem.”
“Diana isn't that bad, she’s just … protective? The library is her baby and god forbid you upset her over it.” Tim watched as the man in the coat disappeared down the passageway. Something was off about him but Tim couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Anyway,” Martin continued. “This is Artefact Storage, it goes down three levels. You need to have clearance to get in there because it’s a maze and everything is in some sort of preservation state. Personally I avoid the place, it's creepy.”
“Oh wonderful, just what I always wanted: ‘creepy.” Sasha sighed, folding her arms.
“It's ok, Sasha. If it gets too much, you can always transfer to Research and keep me company.”
She nudged him with her hip. “You're on, Stoker. If it becomes too ‘creepy’ I’ll become your problem.”
Tim found himself grinning. “You’ve got a deal.”
*********
It turned out Sasha lasted exactly three months in Artefact Storage before Tim found her taking up residency at the desk next to his own. He was presented with a spider plant, an offcut of Sasha’s own; it now sat proudly in the sunny spot on his desk in the late October sun. ‘Tiny’ the spider plant currently had a large fake plastic spider with googly eyes perched within its branches. Tim didn’t think he'd manage to keep a houseplant alive longer than a month, but Tiny was hanging in there. He would hate to see Sasha’s face if it died.
He found himself caring more with each day what Sasha thought. About what Sasha did. About making her smile in the way that made the tight knot sitting in his chest since Danny died unravel just a smidge.
He couldn’t fall for her. He would be violating his own rules. He would be doing nothing but letting in pain and ruin. He was a disaster of a human who didn’t deserve to be happy. He had no right to be happy when the thing that killed his brother was still out there somewhere, prowling the underworld.
He told Sasha that, as they huddled in the back of the bar. She listened as he poured his heart out about Danny and nodded in all the right places. Her arm wrapped protectively around his side.
She listened and she believed him.
The knot in his chest loosened just a little more.
Sasha believed him.