#big sibling tim stoker

[jollyhaunt]

guess what. boo

*asian-fies your tim*

[yourbodymyarchive]

you wanted to be the first to know if i ever posted the danny & tim fanfiction you inspired so here you are (its so sad i'm so sorry)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50933707

PEOPLE OF THE WORLD REJOICE!!! or maybe not because this fic is sad and tim stoker is sad BUT IT IS EXCELLENT AND WELL WRITTEN!! and definitely did not make me think of my little siblings no sir hahahaha

in all seriousness, i think there should be more fics like these that explore tim's mindset surrounding his brother's death. i truly believe this kind of pain is like a knife straight to the heart, punches to the gut, hits to the head. it's bodily pain, and it's emotional pain, and it's wanting to be a big brother again. shout out to melandrops for the excellent writing, thank you for your service to the wonderful dynamic that is/was tim and danny stoker. brothers till the end.

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

rules: make a poll with the titles of your wips, let the poll run 24 hours, and write one sentence for every vote the winner receives.

limiting myself to one poll, unlike some people ive seen on my dash lol

for summaries of all the wips in question, please click the readmore!! or just vote based on vibes i wont stop you

tagged by @shih-coulda-had-it!! thanks for allowing my followers to inflict even more pain on me :) (/j)

tagging @vexfulfolly, @k1-b0kuma, @writersmorgue, @fxtuisms-main, and anyone else who wants to join in!!

One Loop at a Time: Time loop crackfic. Class 1-A gets put in a time loop (eventually. It's slow going getting 'em all in there) and shenanigans ensue!

To the Dogs: The next installment in my in which tim stoker is entity catnip series!! Tim Stoker becomes an Avatar of the Hunt. How? When? Why? You'll find out!

We all fall apart: A tragedy focusing on the Todoroki family, ten years after the twins Touya and Fuyumi died in a "training accident" with Endeavor.

the gremlin zone: A crack-taken-a-bit-too-seriously fic where the Todoroki siblings have a group chat. It grew an actual plot, somehow. It scares me.

fireworks (and their ashes): A jontim slowburn (ha) set during S4 where Tim is an Avatar of the Desolation and Jon is. Y'know. Still the Archivist. Honestly it's totally canon compliant until the S3 Finale sooo... :)

Jonathan Sims Is Dead In The End: A time-travel fix-it where some- but not all- things are fixed, the original timeline is nothing like the TMA timeline, and, of course, Jonathan Sims is dead in the end. There's also a timsasha slowburn, if you're interested in that lol

Elias Bouchard: Post-Mortem: A twoshot that was originally supposed to be part of the 2023 TMA Big Bang. And then it wasn't. It's a fic where the original Elias Bouchard had some secrets of his own- what were they? Join Jonah Magnus in finding out!

in love i've always been a mercenary: An afohiko fic where Sorahiko seemingly walks out on All for One and lives with Nana, looking to be on a path to redemption... but things are not always what they seem to be.

Lichtenberg: A fic where Iida tries to kill Stain in Hosu, but he's interrupted by Midoriya and Todoroki, as per usual. Then, all of the above are interrupted by one Kaminari Denki, who seems to be following an agenda of his own.

Recognition of Self in the Other: Part one of the Mirror, Mirror series. Bakugou is diagnosed quirkless when he's four years old, but he's still bound and determined to be the best Pro Hero that he can be, starting with going to UA, the best Hero school in Japan.

Quirks are Cool, but Have You Considered: Napalm: Part one of the Unconventional Weapons trilogy. In which All for One was not planning on taking over Shigaraki's body, instead, he was truly looking for a successor in villainy- so he taught him well, not as a scapegoat but as a true successor.

[unsat-and-strange]

finished an old sketchbook (which I didn't know was possible????) but anyways y'all get a doodle dump here enjoy (sorry some are sideways my phone is being big dumb)

very brief explanations under the cut

1- character design stuff for an apocalypse-ish character i made. his name is dev and I love him :) he likes maps and starting fights and he transed his gemder

2- random Fullmetal alchemist doodles. I truly believe alphonse would just.... pick people up. also winry has a trash sleep schedule.

3- a dnd character idea! snake cowboy bard names moke, he left home to try and save up for a ranch of his own and he's refusing to admit he's addicted to adventuring.

4- dnd doodles from a few sessions ago. there uh there were some events. I totally didn't jump into the ocean to avoid my party members pestering me for killing my ex-bestie who turned evil. and like I'm not saying she deserved it but she also was 100% down for killing a kid in cold blood and she got me exiled. oh and turning people into weird mind controlled spike monsters. that too.

5- I had this idea for a magical girl necromancer. she's super sweet and innocent but she also raises the dead. she probably has zombie helpers to carry her school books.

6- more session doodles. most the magnus archives honestly. there's a handful of tims (stoker and gunpowder variants) (I do think tma Tim and mechs Tim would be cool with each other. or maybe just instantly kill each other) and some of the distortion and some other random stuff. I really enjoy drawing the distortion. I think maybe the hair is really fun, or the fucked up hands.

7- most recent session doodles. mostly npcs, there's one family that has a near monopoly on the town were in, apparently the matriarch had a very active social life. and by that I mean the dwarf who runs the armory and the human who runs the tavern and the driver who runs the tailor shop are all siblings. also me and another party member have accidentally started a war for the driders heart. (IM GOING TO WIN) (FLORA CHOOSE ME PLEASE) is it weird my first experience with romance is a character played by me and a completely fictional npc

8- old design. I have this tattooed now

9- random woods character. I don't know if I ever figured out their name. basic idea is they were a very young immortal when the world ended so now centuries later they just wander through the woods that have reclaimed the planet. every so often these weird extra dimensional shepherd things stop by to check in. they actually stop by earth a lot more often than they used to now that they know this person is here, they were very surprised to find out humanity had been born and died within the span of two visits. bit of dialogue I thought up once: "so young one, are you the first of your kind?" "actually I think I'm the last."

10- old inktober drawing from like 2022 that I never actually finished. or was it 2021.... idk whatever the prompt was bouquet and kaz found inej some flowers. god I still really like this drawing actually. I should redraw it in such a way I'm not scared of ruining it by finishing it

[babymapleleaf]

I’ve seen posts about Tim being brotherly to the archive team and you bet I’m gonna use that in agere headcanons (cuz sometimes when ur small you just need a sibling)

-Tim likes to pull up a chair and let the babies watch him play Minecraft, or play along with the slightly older kiddos

-Tim is always willing to sneak sugary treats to the little ones even if their cgs have told them no

-(For personal reasons I also specifically think he’s good at making angel milk)

-Tim will also help them hide under desks or between shelves so they don’t get caught eating those treats

-If any of the kiddos ever get hurt or scared, Tim can calm them down by showing them the really weird stuff from artifact storage and telling them about how cool it is

-Tim is strong! He can probably give piggyback rides to everyone on the team, but he doesn’t get to do it often bc then they’ll run around the archives for an hour and nothing gets done

Bonus!! A couple character specific things:

-Tim makes Martin blush by buying him a new plushie while he’s living at the archives and bringing it to him in the middle of the day

-Tim regularly has to scoop Jon up after he’s been working for too long to enforce a mandatory nap time

-Sasha likes Tim’s piggyback rides the most, they always make her giggle. If someone else is getting one, even if she’s not regressed at the time, she’ll still ask if she can get one next

-Melanie doesn’t like to be babied when she’s regressed, so usually if she’s small Tim will sit with her and they’ll just eat fruit snacks and watch YouTube

[cloburon]

smtimes i think abt jon and tim and i just cry

[sam-roulette]

positively obsessed with @archivistbot 's insistence on other archival staff gently placing small animals into Tim's hands for no discernible reason and much to Tim's confusion

[henryoakapologist]

I was not a Tim fan but finding out he joined the Magnus Institute to try and find answers about his baby brother 🥺

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital comic separated into three images featuring Tim and Danny Stoker, Sasha James, and Jonathan Sims from The Magnus Archives. Tim is a tall, slim man with short hair with both sides shaved, ear gauges, a cut in his eyebrow, and a small goatee. He is wearing a slightly unbuttoned button-down shirt with black dress pants and a long, open cardigan. Danny is a bit taller than him, and is beefy, with very short hair, small hoop earring, a cut in his eyebrow, and a mouth shaped like a sideways three. He is wearing a button-up shirt under a sweater-vest with an argyle pattern on the chest, dress pants, and a black wristwatch. Sasha is a tall, midsize woman with long curly black hair partially pulled back in a ponytail, with cat-eye glasses and large round earrings. She is wearing a plain shirt under an open cardigan, a long skirt, long knit stockings, flat shoes, a black choker and a black wristwatch. Jon is a short, thin man with black hair with light stripes running through it pulled back into a bun and a full mustache, and he has half-moon glasses on a beaded chain and small stud earrings. He is wearing a button-down shirt under a too-large buttoned-up cardigan and dress pants. Each character is filled in with a distinguishing color and has a lighter version of that color in their speech bubbles. Tim is purple, Danny is yellow, Sasha is salmon, and Jon is green. 

Tim, hugging Danny with one arm: Jon, Sasha, say hello to my dear baby brother Danny. Danny, looking a bit nervous, waving with one hand in his pocket: H-Hiya! Sasha and Jon are both pressing their hands together and to their mouths, staring at Danny in thought, saying nothing. Jon, lowering his hands: Tim, that’s not your little brother. Tim, unbothered: Pardon? The next panel has Sasha and Danny’s faces far more simplified, with dot eyes and no noses. Sasha, clinging to Danny with her arms and legs, smiling with a “cat mouth”: He’s OUR little brother~ Danny is shown smiling excitedly, giving two thumbs up. Tim, off-screen: Ah.

end ID]

~~~~

another addition to the danny lives and works at the institute au for @stoker-week​, featuring danny meeting jon and sasha for the first time. yes they have both decided to adopt him as their little sibling

bonus: 

[ID: A digital drawing in the same style as the other images, but with the simplified faces, showing Jon and Danny. Danny is holding Jon under his arms and lifting him up, looking extremely delighted. Jon is being held with his arms sticking out in front of him, looking very unamused. 

Danny: TIM! I GOT ANOTHER LITTLE BIG BROTHER! Tim, off-screen: nice

end ID]

by “little big brother” he means smaller but older brother, in case that’s not clear. tim is also a little big brother, therefore jon is another one

[inklingofadream]

yes tell us the kid au

ok it comes with a title, which is "there is something wrong in this house." Also this is obscenely long and may not even make sense

and all the crack stuff is in the backstory, bc elias is the one doing it and the fics from the kids' perspectives. elias going "actually screw this, I'm making one from scratch" is a time-honored excuse to get lil baby Jarchivist, and it's what we're going with here. but, like, making a kid is a lot of effort, and they can't even talk at first, and Agnes didn't work out anyway

So he adopts. Attempt #1: Timothy Stoker, recently lost his whole family to a tragic accident, marked by the Stranger (he hasn't hit on the ritual idea yet but he figures that having some awareness of the supernatural to start with can't hurt. But for now it's all very normal). He can be very subtle about priming Tim to be Archivist, and what better way to ensure loyalty that to be Literally Family?

Unfortunately for Elias, we've seen how Tim reacts to grief in canon, and it's making drastic life changes and getting angry, depending on how much control he feels like he has and how much support he's getting. And not having control is a big theme in this, so he goes for angry. It rapidly becomes pretty obvious that Tim is not going to be a good Archivist.

So we try again, like within a year of adopting Tim. Sasha is Tim's age, and v lightly marked by the Spiral. She's great, Elias is v excited, Sasha is going to be Archivist.

But he still has Tim. And murdering a kid who's not even to double digits is a bit much, even for Elias. But Tim and Sasha bond hard and fast, which, y'know, Archivists do need Assistants. And connection to a beloved brother is probably a pretty good way to get your Archivist back if they end up in the Lonely or the like. You can't use them as cannon fodder, but he figures that Sasha can have one keeper and he can hire randos to fill the other assistant slots.

So Elias' life is going great. Second part of plan: He needs to get rid of Gertrude... some day, but he wants the time to plan it, and she's still useful. But kids grow up, and he doesn't want to put Sasha in place until he's sure he's got a timeframe nailed down for his Ritual, and he doesn't want Sasha responsible for stopping Rituals. But kids grow up and get other careers and turn into their own people.

(Kids are already their own people, you say. Well, Elias barely treats adults like people sometimes. Obviously he's not going to be any better than the controlling and possessive and manipulative stuff we get with Jon in canon with people who also do not have the ability to fight back in the way adults can. Tim can't run away to Malaysia in this! He can't even get out of the city on his own!)

And Elias finds out that he really likes being a parent (this is not at ALL proportional to the quality of said parenting). He doesn't want to be done. And so he puts into use a lil Web artifact, which is that because I say so (and because the experience of being a child and not getting your opinion considered and all your stuff being filtered through what your parents think feels v Webby, to me) he has his kids take vitamins every night, some of which are normal and some of which are Evil Vitamins of Never Grow Up. (the Evil Vitamins have extensive world-building around how and when they're useful, they won't solve Jonah's dying issue bc they're playing on the kid thing, and he's not a kid. Also they are technically still aging, just v slow)

So Tim and Sasha just kind of. Stay 8 or 9ish. And kids that age aren't that observant. It takes them a looooooonnnng time to figure things out.

Meanwhile, y'know, Elias really does like having kids. And if one super-loyal assistant is good, surely more is better? And also, Tim leveled out when he had Literally Anyone besides Elias (because obviously your Vampire Kids have tutors, you can't exactly send em to school) to bounce off of, maybe another sibling will have the same effect. So if he were to find an entity marked orphan (or... not orphan. I think he straight up steals Martin), why not? So he basically acquires Martin and Jon the same way multiple people I know have ended up with extra kids, which is remembering how cute they are and deciding more is better. The kids take well to each other, and Tim in particular gets his big brother instinct activated hard.

And the thing is. Sasha was supposed to be Archivist, but no one really knows that. He didn't tell anyone. And he likes Jon. Jon is just as curious as Sasha, but also waaaay more susceptible to positive reinforcement (for a long time Elias is Jon's favorite as much as Jon is Elias') and reminds Elias of himself more, because boy. So now Jon is future Archivist and the rest will be his assistants. But for now they're all in Vitamin Limbo

And this all sounds very fluffy and goofy, but the actual matter of the story (though it's maybe more a series of vignettes) this is for is from the kids' POV, with them gradually realizing that there's something subtly not right with Elias, and exploring how they feel trapped, how they catch on to little things, and how each discovery has to be pitched to the other three, with varying success. And then focusing on how Jon especially just. Refuses to see it. And trying to convince him otherwise just puts distance between him and the rest and makes him closer and closer with Elias. And tonally it's kind of like a haunted house story? Only the ghost is what Elias is planning for them, and what he's already doing/done to them. Eventually at least Tim stops taking the vitamins, and then that worsens for him because he has more and more idea of how wrong things are, and can't convince the others, and can't take them all away from Elias if he can, and he feels this overbearing need to protect them all but he can't

[disregardcanon]

in other news tim stoker is living a big sibling nightmare

[banashee]

It's midnight where I am, which means it's technically the 21st already 😁 Hi Folks, welcome to my fourth fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :)

@archivalpride

   Archival Pride 2021, Week four (June 21-28) Prompts: comfort, childhood, research, missing scene, statement

   The key words I've used here are comfort, research (and arguably missing scene depending how you look at it)

So, this wasn't supposed to get nearly as long as it ended up being. But I enjoyed wirting this a ridiculous amount, and I hope you can find a bit of joy, comfort or anything else you're seeking as well.

-

Please mind the tags and content warnings for this one! It’s quite a bit heavier than my other entries for the Archival Pride 2021.

Content warnings: - Trauma, Grief - PTSD / Panic attacks - violent canon death of a sibling - coping - Nightmares - Canon-typical violence - Canon-typical Clowns / The Stranger - Death of a loved one - Canon-typical violence and thoughts of violence - Past underage kissing between consenting teenagers (nothing graphic and very PG) - breif internalized Bi-Phobia in the past - brief mention of past Ace-Phobia - strong language - TMA season 3 spoilers, even though this story is set pre-canon.

-

 Whispers in the Dark

 The first time Tim meets Jonathan Sims is when he sets down a small cardboard box and a stack of files onto a desk. More precisely, his own new place at the desk he just got assigned.

 Tim just started out with his new job and he smiles, even though he is barely holding himself together at this point. He hopes no one will ask too many questions - it’s not like he plans on telling anyone what made him seek out the institute in the first place. It’s way too personal, and way too much to handle.

 So he’d lied in the job interview, spun some story about wanting a new challenge. Mr. Bouchard didn’t question it, and Tim would like to think that is because his CV and education are rather high quality, which he isn’t shy about. Not at all - he is proud of his achievements, and rightfully so. But Tim can’t shake the feeling that his new employer had looked at him oddly, like he knows something that no one else does. It had been deeply unsettling, and if Tim thinks too much about it, it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up straight.

 Despite his gut feeling telling him something else, Tim decides to chalk it up to nerves and his… Current situation, so to say. He is more jumpy, more paranoid than he used to be, which isn’t surprising. He has seen things, lived through things that he wouldn’t know how to explain if anyone asked. But overthinking it won’t get him anywhere.

 So, he puts on a bit of the show, something that looks like his usual happy-go-lucky personality. Loud, brash, flirty and wicked smart, just like he always has been. It feels incredibly fake to him, but then again, no one here knows him. No one has ever met him before… Before. They don’t know.      They don’t know    . None of them ever sees him when the mask falls, home alone, in a house that feels too big and too empty with Dany gone and - no.

     “Don’t go there, Stoker, just don’t. Get through the day, see what you can find out and go home. Get back tomorrow, rinse and repeat. You can do this.”     he tells himself and plasters on a smile that almost hurts.

 As he sets down the box and his files, he greets his new coworker and desk-neighbor.

 “Hi, I’m Tim, nice to meet you!” (      “be happy, sound happy, god dammit”     he thinks, then reminds himself that this guy won’t know the difference.)

 The man on the desk opposite of him looks up from his computer which he’d previously looked at with intense concentration. It seems to take him a moment to catch up, then he nods and there is the hint of a very small smile on his face.

 “Oh, erm, hi. Welcome.” he says, like someone who isn’t used to interacting with too many people. And maybe he isn’t - Tim wouldn’t know. He almost moves on and accepts that he won’t get a name from his new desk neighbor, but then he hears him say,

 “Jonathan. Jon is fine, too.”

 And then, as if he never said anything, he focuses back onto the screen in front of him and starts typing furiously.

 “Thanks!” Tim says, probably just a tad too loud and too enthusiastically, but he doesn’t get a response this time. Okay, awkward. He isn’t sure if Jon is ignoring him or if he just doesn’t realize that he is being talked to - judging from the very brief, first impression of him that Tim got, both options might be entirely possible.

 As the days go by, they don’t interact a lot besides basic politeness and the occasional question or comment about something work related.

 The first time Tim ever really talks to Jon, is when he witnesses the man climb a bookshelf in the library like a fucking tree. No kidding. Tim blinks, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a real, genuine laugh bubble up in his chest. What the hell? He steps closer, next to the large, antique bookshelf that his coworker is currently clinging to, pulling books from a shelf that is over his head still.

 “Jon, hi.” Tim says, watching the scene in front of him unfold. This is not something he expected, least of all from the coworker who never seems to say or do anything mildly interesting. So much for the first impression - the second impression is something entirely different, and it is this very moment that Tim decides that he likes the guy.

 The sound of Tim’s voice addressing him directly makes Jon turn his head.

 “Hi. Can I help you?” he asks, brusk and matter of fact, as if there wasn’t anything odd about this situation.

 “...I was going to ask you the same?” Tim offers, mildly amused as he finds himself kind of impressed when Jon manages to shrug with his hands full like that. While clinging to the shelf, because what even?

 “No. Why? I’ve already got what I need.” Jon jumps down from the wooden board he’d been standing on, and it is only now that Tim realizes they’d been on eye level before. Now… Not so much. They never stood next to each other up until this moment, he realizes.

 He’s only been here for about a week, but whenever Tim arrives at the office, Jon is already there, at his desk and working. He never gets up for lunch, only ever seems to leave the room to pick up or drop off books from the library, and by the time everyone else has left, Jon remains seated at his desk. If he wasn’t changing out his clothes, Tim would have been convinced that Jonatahn Sims simply plugs himself into a wall socket to recharge for the next day. Or maybe sleeps under his desk or something.

 “Just… You know what, nevermind.” Tim has come to the very correct conclusion that he better just accept this as it is. It seems easier. Much, much easier than arguing with someone over nothing, even though Tim feels like punching a wall or two some days. But that is not his coworkers fault, and he doesn’t want to mess up the chance to get to know him because he is cute.

 Tim doesn’t even question this train of thought anymore.

 At some point in between meeting the man for the very first time and… well, this, he must have filed away the odd combination of grandfather cardigans, chipped dark nailpolish and neatly tied up hair, combined with that deep warm voice and decided that yes, this person is attractive.

 To be fair, it doesn’t take Tim long to fall for people - it never has. He just didn’t expect to spend any time really      looking     at someone, now that his life has gone sideways in so many horrible ways.

 Turns out he’d been wrong.

 Finding something attractive about a person, no matter their gender or any physical attributes, is the easiest thing in the world to Tim. Ever since he can remember, he has enjoyed looking at people. Tim likes soft curves just as well as sharp angles, and has spent many many hours of his life getting lost in people's eyes. Sometimes, he’d caught himself staring when talking to a friend, losing himself in the depth of warm brown eyes with specks of gold, watery blue, light grey or green with specs of hazel and anything in between.

 Tim vividly remembers a game of spin the bottle when he was a teenager and sat on the floor with a group of friends and classmates. Of course, there had been many dares to kiss someone, and he had happily taken them whenever possible.

 At the time, Tim wasn’t sure about himself at all, because he’d only known that he finds people attractive, but all everyone around him had talked about was if you were gay or straight, if the question was even asked. Mostly, they just assumed whatever seemed convenient at the time.

 No one tells Tim about the meaning of the word “Bisexual”, or even about the word itself until he is in college. But he knows how he feels, even though he is lacking the word for it for many years

 Once he finds out, Danny is the first person he tells about it. Tim calls him that same night, sitting in a quiet corner of the dorm as he excitedly tells his little brother that he found a word to relate to himself and his feelings for other people.

 “There are other people who feel that way, Danny. There is nothing wrong with me and there is a word for it!” he tells him in a hushed but excited voice, fumbling on a loose thread in a hole of his jeans. Those trousers have long been frayed into shreds but Tim refuses to part with them.

 His voice is shaking with excitement, and he may or may not be holding back happy tears. This is a big moment for him, and because Danny is literally the best - not just because he answered his phone at fuck-o-clock in the morning when his brother called - he reacts with nothing but support.

 “I might have a few questions, but I love you. No matter what. I’m happy for you.” he tells him, and in that moment, Tim couldn’t be happier or prouder of his younger brother.

 The game of spin the bottle a few years earlier was the one of the first things that taught Tim that he finds many many things to be interested in and attracted to. It taught him that he is attracted to the many different ways people feel, and it hasn’t changed ever since.

 Over the years, Tim finds himself falling in love quick and hard with a number of people, and none of them are ever the same. Each and every person is unique, in their looks and size and voice and feelings - and every single one is loveable just as they are.

     “You        do         have a thing for certain types of voices though.”    Tim thinks, and maybe that is the culprit here, now that he is standing in the library of the Magnus Institute and faced with Jonathan Sims, who looks up at him with one raised eyebrow. Oh shit, has he been staring the entire time?

 Before Tim can think too much about it, or god forbid, overthink it, he hears his mouth blurt out without his brains permission,

 “So do you want to come to lunch later? There is a café not far from here that I’ve never been to.”

 Jon stares back for a moment, like this isn’t something he expected. Truth be told, he didn’t. But just when Tim starts thinking that he’ll decline, Jon nods slowly.

 “Yes, I suppose. Just… Let me know before you’re going. I tend to, well, I tend to get lost a bit when I’m working and chances are I won’t notice how much time has passed.” he explains, and this is probably the first time he said anything personal besides his name.

 “Sure, no problem. I’ll just put a giant sticky note on your monitor.” Tim offers him with a grin and wink, and as he turns around, he could swear that he catches a real smile on Jon’s face.

 Tim actually does put a note on Jon’s screen though. As he was warned, all attempts to verbally get his attention have failed, so Tim scribbles a quick note for Jon.

 The sticky piece of paper is bright pink and obnoxious, and all that Tim has written on it is “Lunch time!” in big bold letters, accompanied by a smiley face. He manages to walk up behind Jon, stick it right in the middle of his computer monitor and get back around to his own desk to gather his jacket and wallet before Jon squints at it through slim, rectangular glasses and blinks a few times before he remembers the conversation from earlier. Then, there is a small hint of a smile on his face, very similar to the one Tim caught in the library earlier.

 He gathers his things and leaves the office with Tim, and the two of them walk next to each other comfortably as they make their way to the café.

 Surprisingly, the lunch break together isn’t nearly as awkward as it could be, or should have been, really. Jon doesn’t talk much at first, and Tim has a feeling he himself is talking way too much without actually saying anything, just so his brain doesn’t drift off into the wrong direction. But then, it’s like the air has left his lungs and there is a minute or two of slightly awkward silence.

 Then, Jon clears his throat and asks,

 “So, did you know that snails can sleep for three years at a time?”

 When Tim, surprised by the question, shakes his head, Jon starts talking about the topic in great detail as he fiddles with the edge of his napkin the whole time. Somehow, this of all things breaks the ice, and Tim finds himself to be able to breathe a little bit easier.

 Even more so, he is enjoying this. He isn’t sure what he expected when he asked Jon to join him for lunch. Maybe it was just the urge for human interaction and to not be alone, which he supposes is fair enough. But he certainly didn’t expect random information about nature phenomenons. All Tim knows is that he feels better after their first break together, and after that, spending the break together becomes A Thing.

 What he learns pretty fast is this: Jon is an info dumper when he feels comfortable enough to do so. As it turns out, Jon isn’t very picky with his topics, either. They range from science phenomena to weird, interesting nature facts and anything else that catches his interest.

 Tim also learns that, if he is in the right company and being asked the right questions, he can hold monologues that could last for hours. He figures that one out when Jon drops a fun fact about 19th century architecture, and without thinking, picks up the loose end of the sentence and continues,

 “Oh, yes, did you know that…” and thus, without even realizing it, Tim spends the entire lunch break talking about it - he is passionate about the topic, but he leaves out the details about the Covent Garden Theatre. It just hurts too much to think about, but other than that, Tim is excited about the topic. He gets so carried away and rambles on and on and on, he only stops when Jon and him get back to the institute. It takes even longer for Tim to catch up and realize that Jon just paid for both lunches while he went off on a monologue about Robert Smirke architecture. But when he tries to pay him back, Jon just waves him off.

 “Don’t worry about it. Besides, your lecture was very interesting, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

 From anyone else, this might have been a dig - but coming from Jon, Tim knows by now, it is a genuine statement that makes him way happier than it should.

 So, their lunch breaks together quickly turn into a tradition,

 Tim isn’t entirely sure what is more surprising; the fact that he manages to get Jon to actually leave his desk for human needs like food and social interaction, or that the two of them are enjoying it so much.

 Sometimes, they go to cafés or restaurants, trying out places that neither of them has been to before. It turns into them picking favourites, and then they become regulars at a small handful of places. Sometimes they simply go on a quick walk to pick up some food, other times they sit down and enjoy being out of the office for a little bit.

  One day, Tim arrives in the office early, and he brings lunch from home for Jon and himself for the first time.

 Tim has spent the previous night wide awake, unable to rest after a nightmare startled him out of a deep sleep. It takes a long time to get his breathing back under control, and very late at night, or very early in the morning, depending how you look at it, Tim gives up on sleep. After hours of useless tossing and turning, he won’t be able to rest, he knows from experience.

 Cursing under his breath, he pulls aside the covers and takes a few deep, shuddering breaths. Exhausted, both in a physical and emotional sense, he scrubs a hand over his face.

 The memories linger, and Tim feels like his whole chest is pulled together with anxiety and grief. Seven months. That’s how long it has been since he found Danny sitting in his dark living room in the middle of the night, crying silent tears as he had no idea what to do besides be there for him and offer comfort. Seven months since he followed his younger brother to the Royal Opera House Covent Garden and had to watch him being torn apart.

 Carefully, Tim forces himself to keep breathing as evenly as possible. In - hold - out - hold - in - rinse and repeat. His hands are shaking, and he tries to force them into stillness as he grips hard at the rumpled bed sheets.

 Attempting to go back to sleep is useless, he knows from experience, and so he makes his way down into the kitchen.

 This house feels too big, too empty without the presence of his little brother. He left a hole in his life, and even though it’s been months since Danny died, Tim hasn’t moved a single one of his possessions. Not yet - it hurts too much.

 Despite having been alone for a while now, Tim is still careful to leave the lights  out in the hallway, walking as quietly as he can in the middle of the night as if there was still someone around he could wake up with his movements. It’s a long standing habit, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever shake it off.

 It’s only when he arrives in the kitchen that Tim switches on the overhead light. It flickers to life, slowly, and the small kitchen is tinted into a warm light. Warm and homely, like this house once was. Now, it just feels painfully empty.

 With a long sigh, Tim makes his way to the sink and fills up a glass with water - his hands are still shaking and he spills a bit onto himself, but he doesn’t care. Caring about it is too much right now, so he focuses on draining the glass empty before refilling it again. He feels dehydrated, but given the night he’s had so far, it isn’t surprising.

 “I need a distraction.” he mumbles, and soon enough, he’s raided the pantry and his refrigerator. Tim pulls  out some pots and pans from the cupboard, scattering everything throughout his kitchen where it’ll be most convenient. The repetitive tasks of cooking have always had a relaxing effect on him, and soon enough, the room is filled with scents and aromas that make his mouth water. Even now, while he is absolutely miserable.

 The casserole ends up being huge. It’s way too much for one person, even one with an appetite. But cooking for one after being used to there being someone else is hard - kind of useless, while you’re already at it.

 Tim has had that problem ever since he’s been cooking on his own, but knowing that Danny will be back to join him again, freshly back from some cave diving or urban exploration or whatever other strange new hobby he’d found at the time.

 Now, Tim is all on his own. He sighs unhappily. Cooking was a good distraction, up until he is painfully reminded that no one is there anymore to share it with. Not here, at least.

 He allows himself a few minutes of quiet greif, seated at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a lukewarm cup of tea, sitting on the table by his side, almost forgotten.

 By the time the sun is starting to rise, Tim is up and moving again. He has put the casserole in several plastic boxes and packs two of them into his work bag.

 When he arrives at the office, way earlier than he usually does, because what is the point of staying home doing nothing, Tim places one of the boxes at the edge of Jon’s desk.

 Jon seems to be mildly surprised by the early company, and even more so by the plastic box.

 “Oh, Good morning... What is this?” he asks then, mildly curious.

 “Lunch. I was cooking last night and it was way too much. Thought I’d bring some in to share.” Tim forces a smile along with the half-lie, if only to cover how tired he is. He needs coffee.

 The “Thank you” Tim gets in response is equally surprised and genuine, and he tries very carefully to not interpret too much into it. Especially because their shared meal feels a lot more homely and strangely intimate that day. Getting takeout together or sitting somewhere is one thing, but sharing a home-cooked meal is something entirely different, he finds. He also finds that he doesn’t mind it.

 Only a few days later, conveniently when every last bit of the casserole is gone, Tim finds a plastic box that isn’t one of his own sitting on his desk. Curiously, he opens it and finds it filled to the brim with homemade curry, rice and veggies. Even cold, it smells heavenly and makes his mouth water. Tim looks over to the desk opposite of him, where Jon is already typing away like he usually does, but when he looks up and finds Tim smiling brightly at him, he smiles back.

 Something in his chest feels incredibly warm and fluttering.

 One evening, when the two of them get out of the office equally late - Jon because he always does, and Tim because he may or may not have waited for him - they walk to the tube together.

 In a spontanous fit of bravery and “Oh well, fuck it”, Tim carefully rechaes out until his own fingers gently brush against Jon’s as they walk. It’s dark outside, only illuminated by the countless lights that illuminate the shops and pubs and the sides of the street they’re walking along. Tim does so casually and carefully enough to be ignored or taken as a coincidence if needed be, just in case. But then his heart almost stops for a second when after a moment of stiffness, Jon accepts the offer and closes his own fingers around Tim’s.

 His touch is light at first, but then his grip tightens a bit, warm and comfortably so, and it is clear that his heart is in it. Of course it is - the two of them have gotten close in the last few weeks and months. There might have been some wishful thinking on Tim’s end involved - Jon is not always great at picking up social cues, especially romantic ones.

 “That’s fine though” he tells him later, “You’re a huge enough flirt to make it up for the both of us.”

 Jon squeezes his hand, and Tim happily squeezes back as he keeps walking beside him, just a little bit closer than before.

 He can’t help but smile. Something like happiness blooms in his chest, and even though they don’t talk about it the entire way, even though they keep holding hands when they sit next to each other in the tube, they remain this close all the way until their ways separate and they have to get onto a different line each. It feels right, and the sudden loss of touch as their ways separate makes Tim wish it could last - but turning back and running after the other train seems kind of silly now, especially since he’ll see Jon again the very next day.

 This becomes A Thing as well. Touching, that is.

 Holding hands, brushing along each other when they reach for folders or mugs or books in the library. Speaking of which, Tim has learned very quickly that there is      no     way to stop Jon from literally climbing high spaces to reach whatever he needs. As of now, he is long used to watching him scale a bookshelf or kitchen counter, much to his own amusement.

 “Hold on tight, little monkey.” he tells him as he walks past, grinning from ear to ear, knowing full well that he can’t expect more than a scoff and,

 “Oh, shut up.” as a response.

 Tim keeps it up though - because it’s fun and he knows he’s allowed to get away with it. Which can’t be said for anyone else in the institute, not like anyone would have tried as far as he knows. But he is ridiculously proud of it nonetheless. Tim is still cackling to himself when he wraps an arm around the other man’s shoulders and keeps chatting away to him all the way back into the research offices.

 He has always been very openly affectionate, with family, friends and romantic partners or those he’d fancied. It’s part of who he is, and if he is honest with himself, it feels good to have some part of him back that’s always been there. It helps a bit, and even more so since Jon not only happily lets him, he also leans back into the touch. Jon’s attempts at seeking out touch are a lot more subtle than Tim’s, at least at first, but he knows and recognizes it for the sign of trust and comfort that it is.

 That afternoon, there isn’t much time to chat at their desks, but about an hour before they’re supposed to get off, a balled up piece of paper hits Tim’s hand, clearly coming from Jon, but the sneaky bastard isn’t giving indication that he stopped reading at all.

 With a small smile, Tim opens the note. It’s not like Mr.   Workaholic to pass notes on the clock, but then again, he has to give Jon credit for loosening up significantly since the day they met. Or, maybe warmed up to human company is more like it. (He very carefully tries not to think, or more like hope, that it's him in particular Jon has warmed up to so much. But then again, Tim has heard some of their coworkers whisper in astonishment that it’s completely unheard of that Jonathan Sims leaves his desk for breaks or in time in the evenings, let alone interacting with other human beings more than absolutely necessary. Tim also caught the rumors about the two of them being a couple - he’d almost laughed then. He fucking      wishes    .)

 Tim unfolds the note and reads;

     “I have a lot of leftover curry I made last night. Would you like to come over for dinner after work? - J.”  

 This has become A Thing, too. Sharing meals after work and sometimes on the weekends. It alternates where they go, but especially lately, they have preferred to go to either Tim’s house or Jon’s apartment instead of a restaurant. For one, going out to eat on a regular basis is expensive, but also, cooking together or eating the leftovers from a late night cooking binge is a lot more comfortable and homely.

 Sharing a meal and oftentimes a couch with someone fills at least part of the void that Tim finds inside of himself. He is struggling still, but having another human being in his personal space, warm and alive and happy to be there, means the world to him. He’s feeling something again, something that isn’t constant fear or everlasting sadness.

 They watch movies sometimes - it’s not exactly easy to find something that both of them       like    . Their tastes in movies are widely different from each other, so instead, they opt to choose obscure sci-fi movies or anything they can pick apart and make fun of. No horror - they haven’t talked about it, but this is one of the few movie-related things they are in silent agreement over.

 Truth be told, poking fun at bad movies together is much more entertaining than watching anything the normal way.

 They are stuffing their faces with snacks and complain at the protagonists for making very unwise or straight up unrealistic decisions, even in-universe illogical ones. They pick apart plot-points and anything that doesn’t add up  while they share space on the couch, either holding hands or leaning against one another.

 “Oh, of course, give me a break!” Jon grouses as he shakes his hand that is currently holding a few crisps at the TV, annoyed to no end, it seems. In truth, he is      enjoying     this. He enjoys this an awful lot, and so does Tim.

 He laughs out loud and pulls Jon a little closer to his side.

 “Yes, you tell the creepy alien why it’s mere existence even in this fictional universe doesn’t make sense, Love!” He eggs him on, and only realizes the pet name has slipped out of his mouth by the time he notices the deep blush creeping on Jon’s face. Oh shit.

     “Now don’t say anything to fuck this up, for once in you life, just shut up!”    Tim thinks to himself, carefully trying to remain as calm as he can. They’ve been holding hands for ages and they keep cuddling up on the couch - this isn’t anything unexpected, for heaven’s sake. Hell, if Jon were anyone different, they might have ended up in bed already, but Tim is aware that this probably isn’t going to happen anytime soon - or at all, if he isn’t entirely mistaken, based on  the hints and observations. First and foremost the slow and careful way in which their relationship to each other is changing and developing, but then again, he knows what the simple black ring on the middle finger on a person’s right hand usually means.

 Tim doesn’t ask though - he figures that if Jon wants to talk about it, he will do so eventually and at his own pace.

 So, Tim doesn’t push anything and carefully waits for a response. But there isn’t one, or at least nothing verbal. Instead of saying anything, neither to Tim or about the movie, Jon simply scoots a little bit closer to him, leaning against him and doesn’t let go of his hand. Tim takes this as a win and leans his head against the tuft of long black hair that tickles his cheek.

 Both of them relax in an instant, and if they end up falling asleep on the couch, legs a tangled mess and with the TV still on, well, the next morning isn’t nearly as awkward as it might have been once upon a time.

 It takes Tim, way longer than it should to realize that, for the first time in a long while, he didn’t startle awake screaming that night. Company helps. It helps a lot. Just knowing that there is someone else, that he isn’t alone and doesn’t have to wake up to an eerily empty house anymore helps.

 Tim doesn’t fool himself into thinking that everything will magically resolve itself - he knows it won't, especially because his research about the circus isn’t going anywhere yet.

 Sometimes, he feels guilty. Guilty for not spending every waking minute searching for hints, searching for answers to the things that have taken his brother and traumatized him for life. The calmer, logical part of his brain is aware that it doesn’t work like that - he needs a break sometimes, needs the time to himself and spend it with other people…. And goddammit, he deserves to be happy.

 Danny would have kicked his arse if he could hear him think this, would have told him to get a grip and do something that makes him happy. Because this is what scares him sometimes - the happiness, the times where he doesn’t think of the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden or circuses and… Skin. Just the thought alone makes him shudder, but he can’t stop thinking about those memories sometimes.

 “...Are you alright?”

 Tim blinks, not having realized that he must have zoned out. He’s still on the couch, slowly waking up and with Jon tucked somewhere next to him. He doesn’t sound very awake yet, but there is concern in his voice as he fixes Tim with a very direct look.

 “I- yes, just. Zoned out a bit there.” Tim shoots him his best bright smile, hoping he’ll be able to chase away the ghosts. At least for now. He sighs, and happily leans into the touch and hugs back when he can feel a pair of slim arms snaking around his waist. Jon doesn’t say anything, but he seems to pick up that something is bothering Tim. And much like him in emotional situations, Jon doesn’t know what to say. So he remains close and thankfully, this is exactly what Tim needs right now. Just being close to someone he cares a whole lot about, feeling their heartbeat near his own. Being held for a bit. He squeezes Jon in silent gratitude for being there, and hopes he can get across what he can’t say.

 It is Saturday and they have a whole weekend in front of them. After they peel themselves off of the couch, they stumble off to the bathroom after one another and then to the kitchen in an attempt to fuel themselves with tea and breakfast. It’s painfully, beautifully domestic.

 While he is keeping an eye on several pans on the propane stove, Tim is chatting away about something - he isn’t exactly sure himself, except it is something pointless that distracts him from his earlier train of thought. Jon and him are laughing and joking while they drink tea and prepare breakfast together. But after a while it looks like Jon wants to say something, stops himself, and then more of the same all over again.

 Eventually, Tim can’t watch him struggle over it anymore and straight out asks,

 “Hey. What’s going on in that fuzzy head of your’s?”

 It’s true - both of them still have a severe case of bed-heads, and Jon huffs at the question and tries to smooth down a few of the stubborn flyaways around his face. Only very mildly successful.

 “I… Was going to ask something.”

 “Alright? Shoot.” Tim very, very carefully swallows the joke he was about to make in the end - if this is going where he hopes it might, he doesn’t want one god awful pun to be part of the memory of it. So he waits.  

 Jon seems to be bracing himself, and then he turns around to face Tim.

 “I would like to kiss you. Is that okay?” he asks. A simple question, and yet - it means so much. Tim smiles at him, heart beating out of his chest as he steps closer to Jon.

 “Yes, I’d love that.”

 There are only mere inches separating them. Both Jon and Tim cross the last of the distance at once, hands searching for each other. Their fingers are interlacing tightly as soon as they touch, and just a split second later, their lips meet for the first time. There is no rush, nothing in this world that would get them to hurry anything up at this moment. Slowly, they kiss again and again, tasting faintly of the tea they had earlier, but even more so, it feels like comfort. Maybe even a little bit like home.

 A quiet happiness settles deep into them, and something seems to click into place. They are happy, and there is nowhere they’d rather be than anywhere, as long as they can be together.

 After a little while, their hands let go of each other, but only so they can pull one another closer. One of Tim’s hands is cupped around Jon’s cheek, thumb gently stroking over the soft stubble while his other arm remains wrapped around him, hand resting at the small of his back. Jon on the other hand, has to angle his head up a bit due to their height difference, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Both of his arms are wrapped around Tim’s torso, and if it was possible, he would like to remain like this forever.

 Unfortunately for the two of them, life has other plans.

 When the smell of something burning registers with the two of them, they regretfully break apart cursing and laughing as they quickly remove the pans from the heat.

 “That was - good lord, why now of all times?” Breathlessly and more than a little high from happy brain chemicals, they try to get a grip on themselves and on the situation.

 “Just like our luck, isn’t it?” Tim is joking, of course, but still. The timing couldn’t have been worse.

 “This       better     not become a habit.” Jon glares at the charred eggs and smoking pans as if they personally insulted him. He’d been having a good time, but of course something had to happen. Oh well.

 “We’ll just have to make up for it.” Tim winks at him, grinning widely. He doesn’t mean much by it, and he only realizes how that might have come across when Jon awkwardly clears his throat and says,

 “The kissing? Yes, absolutely. Other things… Well, most other things, actually… Not so much. I erm, I should have said that before now, I suppose. But, I’m Asexual.” he chooses his words slowly and deliberately, like he is trying to say them exactly right.

 Tim looks into his eyes, bright green and shining with happiness, but now, there is something else creeping into them. Self-doubt, insecurities - Tim isn’t sure, but he wants to do his best to make the doubts disappear - and apologize for his big mouth.

 “That’s absolutely fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that - I wasn’t implying anything else, I promise.”

 Slowly, Jon nods, visibly relaxed now. He asks,

 “So… We’re good?”

 “We are. More than good actually, if you ask me.” Tim finds himself smiling again, which is something he’s been doing so much more lately. Then he tucks away a strand of hair from Jon’s face and kisses him again, just as gentle as before. He is happy to find that he returns the kiss in an instant, pushing close until the two of them end up pressed up against the kitchen table. After they break apart again, they remain standing in an embrace.

 “I like you, Jon. I like you a lot. I love being around you and with you, just for who you are. Yes, I enjoy sex, but I don’t need it. So if you don’t want to, that is okay and it doesn’t make a difference to me. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

 He nearly says, “I love you” but that might be a little early - saying it too early has ruined his relationships in the past, and although what Jon and he have is something different, Tim doesn’t want to risk it.

 But as it turns out, he said the right thing. Jon looks a lot more relaxed than before, and he keeps a loose hold around Tim’s hips.

 “Thank you, Tim, that’s… Very reassuring actually. I’ve been with people who reacted quite a bit differently to this, so” Jon shrugs, but it is clear that this isn’t a happy memory.

 “I appreciate you.” He adds, and Tim pulls him a little bit closer.

 “I’m sorry. These people fucking suck.”

 “That’s one way to put it, yes.” Jon smiles, and pulls Tim down for another, longer kiss. It feels just as intoxicating as before. Then he tells him,

 “And, just for the record. I like you a lot, and spending time with you makes me very happy.

 The giddy happiness stays with them - being freshly in love and being freshly together is exciting. It is a feeling Tim will never get tired of. The thing is, being together with Jon doesn’t change a whole lot - they are still on opposite desks from each other at work, they still spend their lunch breaks together and Tim actually manages to get Jon to leave the office at 5pm these days,  instead of late at night like he did for the longest time. They still have dinner together most days and they often spend their weekends together. All of these are things they did before, but now, it still feels… Different.

 Then of course, there are the casually affectionate touches throughout the day. They’d like to think that they’re being more discreet here, but then again, at least Tim has never been shy about throwing arms around people or bumping shoulders or anything like that. In fact, people would probably get concerned and suspicious if he stopped doing any of it.

 The point is: they keep it down to normal levels at work, but they seem to be glued together whenever they’re off the clock. Whether they hold hands, hug, kiss, bump shoulders, hips, arms or hands, or sometimes simply nap stacked on top of each other, they are always touching in some way. Both of them soak up the contact like sponges, and they know without having even talked about it in detail that they spent quite a bit of time lonely and touch starved before… This. Their relationship.

 Waking up with one another in the mornings is probably Tim’s favourite part of all. Holding onto each other with their legs tangled together, hands searching for warm skin to rest on and heads pillowed on each other's shoulder or chest. Sharing breaths of air - all of this feels wonderful and intimate in it’s own way, and he can’t get enough of it.

 Waking up in the morning is a peaceful thing. But some nights, unfortunately, are not. Both of them have nightmares on a regular basis. They find that they generally sleep better when they are not alone, and having someone to hold close or bury into when the lingering horrors hit, helps significantly.

 Some nights, it’s Jon who startles awake in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving as he frantically looks around himself until he realizes where he is, or until Tim wakes up and mumbles quiet reassurances into his hair as he holds him close until the tremors have calmed down.

 If they’re lucky, they manage to fall back asleep after a while, but if not, they simply stay awake, cuddled up under soft blankets and they just talk. Their topics of conversation vary widely, ranging from silly, lighthearted distractions to things they did or experienced in their past, as well as heartfelt conversations that are about much more than just that.

 Tim himself has his fair share of nightmares as well, ever since he lost Danny. And even though having Jon close by and being held at night helps to keep them at bay sometimes, there are still nights where he startles awake either screaming or crying or both.

 The first time it happens, Tim wakes up terrified and tangled in the sheets. His shirt clings to the cold sweat that is running down his back and his breath comes out in irregular, shaky bursts.

     A dimly lit circus arena, old and dusty with centuries of dirt. Tim can’t move. It’s like he is rooted to the spot, and yet, his legs won’t stop shaking. He is shivering from the cold - no surprise, since he ran out in nothing but his pyjamas earlier, and this place is surprisingly freezing for a hot August night. Tim can feel the cold, but more so than anything, he is absolutely terrified.  

     He wants to scream, to run, do anything but stand here - but it’s impossible. The crumpled form of his brother - or the        Thing         that pretends to be Danny - sits motionless and hunched over, no matter how much Tim tries to call out for him. Not a single word leaves his throat, even though his vocal cords hurt from the strain he’s been putting on them. But Danny doesn’t hear him - can’t hear him.  

     From out of the shadows, Tim can see… Something. It looks like a clown, but it’s wrong. Too long, too folded up to be human. It drags itself across the floor slowly and grotesquely, like a creature from a horror movie, up until it stops. Unlike a movie creature though, this is very much reality.  

     Breathing is hard, and Tim wants to force his body to move, but still, there is nothing he can do. Part of him wants to believe that this… Place, this        Thing         is influencing his ability to move somehow, but then again, he might just as well be paralyzed by fear.  

     The clown moves forward, right towards Danny. As it unfurls itself, it is clear that there are smears of blood all over its face, red and bold and dripping wet.  

     “Shall I?” it asks, with a voice that is playful in the worst possible way. Too happy, and way too sinister. Tim can’t even answer, still unable to talk or move or do anything, but he can feel the bile rise in his throat. He wants to grab Danny and run, but knows he can’t. He wants to scream, cry or throw up, anything but watch the scene unfolding in front of him.  

     None of this happens though.  

     Instead, Tim is forced to stand motionless and helpless, watching in agony and horror as the clown moves much more quickly than he could have anticipated. It’s not as much that he can actually see the movement, but Tim can feel it. He can feel the breeze of air on his face, and just a split second later, it has removed the entirety of Danny’s skin. His limp, bloody and bare form slumps forward, and it is only then that Tim actually starts screaming.  

         He is screaming his head off,  loud, desperate and terrified. Tim is shaking like a leaf. Breathing is impossible, and it takes him way too long to realize that in order to breathe, he needs to calm down for just a second. It takes even longer for him to realize that he is at home, safely in bed and long out of this situation. But Danny… Danny is just as dead.

 Between ragged, forced breaths, Tim is curling in on himself, unable to register that Jon has woken up and is talking to him in a low, concerned voice. He tries to get his partner to calm down at least a bit, afraid he’ll end up hyperventilating from panic.

 Tim doesn’t register any of it. He can’t make out Jon’s gentle voice trying to bring him back, doesn’t register the light, careful touch on his arm in an attempt to soothe without scaring him further. Tim curls himself into a tight, shaking ball without noticing any of it.

 After the first initial panic, there is a brief moment of silence, but after that, he breaks. Ragged breath turns into uncontrollable, hiccuping sobs and it is only then that Tim realizes the familiar pair of arms slipping around him in a protective embrace. He uncurls just enough to be able to hug back and let Jon slip closer to him, which he does as soon as humanly possible. Tim clings onto him for dear life as Jon curls himself around him in what must be an uncomfortable or at least awkward position, but this is the last thing on his mind.  All Jon cares about right now is making sure that Tim is okay, or at least, as okay as he can be.

 Their bodies are pressed flush together, tightly enough for them to feel each other's rapidly beating hearts hammering out of their chests. Tim tries to focus on that, tries to focus on the carefully even rhythm of breath that Jon attempts to get him to follow.

 His presence is constant, warm and comforting. Tim can feel his weight on top of himself, the hold of his arms around him. Strands of hair and warm breath on his neck are a familiar sensation as well, something he’s been getting used to lately. Even more so, it is something that Tim loves and associates with home by now. And while the fear and pain caused by his nightmare are still very much lingering, he is able to relax in order to calm down eventually. Slowly but surely, a little bit over the course of - he doesn’t even know how long.

 Time has lost all meaning at this point. It might take him minutes or hours to breathe normally again, and at some point, Tim realizes that the steady stream of talking, besides the quiet attempts to comfort and assure him, are actually bits and pieces of random information. Anything to keep talking and keep up a steady presence, Tim supposes, but he is eternally grateful for it. He shifts a bit, arms still wrapped tightly around Jon, although he’s stopped clinging as much by now. He stretches out a little bit without letting go of their embrace - everything hurts from holding himself so tense for so long. Then Tim pulls the both of them onto their side so they can cuddle properly.

 Gentle hands keep running through his messy mop of purple hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp. Tim leans into it, soaking up the touch like a sponge. He’s stopped shaking now, he notices, and he registers a lot more sensations than he did before.

 Little sounds around the house, wind outside, the occasional car. Most of all, he registers all the different little touches from Jon, and the way he keeps talking to him even now.

 After a while, he leans in to kiss Tim’s forehead, thumbs wiping away a few stray tears. It seems like the worst of the storm is over by now, but Jon stays close. He’s never seen Tim in such a state, and it worries him to no end. At least it looks like he isn’t in severe panic anymore.

 “Do you want to talk?” Jon asks quietly, but all Tim can manage is shake his head. It's not like he      could    talk right now if he tried. He doesn't trust his voice, knowing it will break, which is probably going to set him off again and he's not ready to face that.

 Maybe, a part of him wants to talk about what happened. Sure, it is going to hurt regardless, whenever he decides he is ready for it, but there is no doubt that it will help to get it off of his chest. But Tim doesn’t know how he is supposed to talk about the horrors he's witnessed. Where would he even start? How does he explain all of it without sounding - well.

 “That’s alright.” Jon tightens his hold around Tim as he shifts a little bit, without letting go, so he can rest his head on top of Tim’s. There is a quiet, almost suffocating sadness radiating off of him, and even though he doesn’t know what happened that got him into this state, Jon offers him all the support he can, in any way he knows how. Physical touch seems to help a lot, thankfully. That, he can do forever.

 “I’m here for you. Whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

 The sun is starting to rise on the horizon, but Tim and Jon remain in bed, wrapped up around each other just like before. Birds are starting to sing outside, even before the first rays of the morning sun tint the room into a low light.

 “I love you. I’m here for you, and I love you.”

                             Notes:

[thearchiveofaus]

The Magnus Archives | Assassination Classroom AU (version A probably)

(long post, so the rest is under the cut)

The archival staff + several other characters are part of some prestigious school’s Class 3-F, for “problem kids” and the bottom 5% of students at the school

Class 3-F always endure horrific discrimination on top of poor learning conditions and it seems this year’s class is no exception

But on the first day of the school year something mysteriously destroys around 70% of the moon, leaving it in a permanent crescent shape

Around a week later, a strange creature appears in their class proclaiming to be responsible for the moon’s destruction, and also their new class teacher

The students are then assigned by the government to kill the creature in one year, during which he will be teaching them both normal school subjects and also train them to become assassins

The unkillable teacher is Elias

(no last name given and also probably no catchy nickname)

He’s not evil or manipulative or anything, he’s genuinely polite and cheery and strict but kind to the students and really passionate about teaching them all

But he’s also really blunt and goofy and extra at times

Appearance-wise I have no idea what he looks like yet (*ﾟｰﾟ)ゞ

but I imagine he’s probably monster!Jon adjacent at least - humanoid but also clearly monstrous, maybe mothy?? wings????, EYES

His expressions do not change (maybe he has no facial features other than eyes at all) but his eyes change color depending on his mood

Normal is emerald green, smug is kinda yellow and glowy, etc.

I imagine he can move and fly really fast but not as fast as Korosensei in canon - Elias goes about mach 16-18 tops, probably

But his reflexes are mad quick it’s really hard to catch him off-guard

Maybe because he’s got multiple eyes and can see multiple directions

He’s also brilliant and can predict people pretty well after observing them enough time

Elias teaches most of the subjects all by himself

Eventually he’s joined by two other teachers tho don’t worry

Adelard Dekker is a preacher turned government agent assigned to monitor Elias and the class, while also teaching physical education and combat (unarmed, with a knife, with two knives, with various guns, etc.) and also marksmanship

Annabelle Cane is a renowned assassin who was assigned to teach foreign languages and social manipulation

Well initially she was aiming to assassinate Elias herself and didn’t care about teaching, but after seeing his dedication to teaching them she decides to stick around

If a student is willing she can also teach them the art of deception, seduction, and/or intimidation as a way to reach a target

Class 3-F is in the school basement, in the area not occupied by the boiler and pipes and other basement stuff

It’s dimly lit and musty, there’s only a classroom and a small and usually understocked science lab, one tiny office (shared between Elias, Adelard, and Annabelle), and a grubby ass unisex bathroom down there

Elias quickly gets fed up with it and digs some big tunnels for them

It’s dark as fuck and kinda spooky but it’s easy to get used to

And Elias put so much shit in the tunnels

There’s literally a sport’s field and marathon track in one of the tunnels so the students can have PE where no one can see?? he tried to add a sunroof to another tunnel??? underground library??? Elias what the fuck

The tunnels do lead to exits above ground in various places, mostly back alleys and stuff, but the students get to class through the main school building mostly

And now for some of the students

Jon was initially aloof and cold to everybody and didn’t trust Elias at all

But then he tries suicide-bombing Elias and he almost succeeds, and he gets both praised for catching Elias off-guard and also scolded for putting himself in danger and after that he warms up to Elias a lot

He’s also really observant and makes notes on Elias’s weaknesses and eventually he warms up to his classmates too

Martin was actually sent down bc he was caught working part-time at a cafe to support himself and his mum (side jobs are against school rules actually)

He’s really sweet and supportive and friendly to everybody but at the start of the story he kinda lacks much of a backbone

Then it turns out he’s got a talent for lying and tricking people and he eventually grows stronger and even gathers the courage to confront his mum

(It doesn’t exactly go well and Martin stays with the Stoker family after that, but he’s far happier)

Speaking of which, Tim’s noticed his little bro Danny acting kinda strange and has let his grades drop to worry over Danny, which led Tim to Class 3-F

Everyone expected him to excel in social manipulation, even maybe taking up seduction, but he far prefers training in marksmanship and has even learned to set up bombs

There’s two Sasha Jameses in the class by coincidence; they’re not blood related (one’s got long brown hair, the other has short red hair; brunette!Sasha is also not white, and ginger!Sasha is taller) but they can work with each other remarkably well

Brunette!Sasha’s actually really smart, but struggled through burnout during the previous year and her grades plummeted, sending her to Class 3-F

Ginger!Sasha’s talent leans closer to disguise and deception as opposed to observation

Melanie and Gerry were both suspended for the first couple weeks, for attacking several students and trashing Mr. Leitner’s office respectively, but they quickly come back in once they’ve done their time

They’re both familiar with Jon; Melanie and him get along like bickering siblings, while Gerry was close to him in first year but they eventually drifted apart

Melanie excels in knife combat especially, and she utterly hates Elias at first and actively targets him

Until eventually Elias protects her from a particularly rash assassination attempt, which earned him her trust, though she’s still mean to him at times

Gerry, on the other hand, is good at both short-ranged and long-ranged combat, and also at making traps

Actually, let’s just say Gerry’s really well-rounded in general; he’s good at a lot of subjects, but doesn’t excel at any in particular

Michael and Helen are both transfer students designed specifically to work together to assassinate Elias; they were intended to be transferred in together, but in the end Michael was sent over first and Helen came later on

Michael is a literal killing machine - a box of guns with the face of a human boy on a screen, meant to provide firepower while Helen attacked from up close

At first he had no programmed personality and only knew attacking, until Elias reprogrammed him and gave him a personality and additional abilities

He installed his program onto everyone’s phones and loves messing with them all, but is really helpful when it’s needed

Helen is considered the superior assassin to Michael, and was meant to cover the short-ranged combat

It turns out that she was actually given this gene thing similar to Elias, giving her similar-ish abilities to her (she’s faster, but doesn’t have the eyes and instead has claws and stretchy limbs(?? maybe))

Eventually Elias convinces her to let the thing go and be a normal student learning with the others

Georgie is in a regular class (3-C), but she’s friends with both Jon and Melanie and regularly defends them both from harassment by other students

There’s also the top five students in each of the core school subjects, all of them in Class 3-A, consisting of Agnes, Jude, Nikola, Manuela, and Jane

(I really cannot think of anything to say about them though ;-;)

Elias’s backstory probably matches Korosensei’s really

World’s deadliest assassin/the God of Death (that’s his literal moniker) is betrayed by his student and captured, then experimented on by some mad scientist

The scientist manning the experiment is Jonah Magnus

Gertrude Robinson was one of his right-hands (who also taught for Class 3-F during the day), but she instead grew fond of Elias and talked to him

And when Elias destroyed the lab in his escape after the moon blew up (because of an experiment rat on the moon surface, it really wasn’t his fault - you might as well read assassination classroom it’s really good and explained in more detail) Gertrude was killed in the ensuing chaos

She made Elias promise to teach the students of Class 3-F for her with her dying breath, and Elias chose to make good of that promise

(I’m also thinking maybe the God of Death doesn’t have a birthname but the disciple’s name was Elias, and the God of Death decides to use that as his own name too)

(that’s all i can think of for now ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ)

[fates-theysband]

Chronophobia

Rating: T

Ship: Aeren Chapman/Tim Stoker (vaguely alluded to; this is more of a narrative oc profile)

Warnings: mentions of decapitation and vivisection, vaguely described gore, blood, head trauma, canon-typical thanatophobia triggers, more than canon-typical swearing (not in that order)

i literally am not capable of just writing a fic, it all has to be vaguely epistolary bs like “craigslist missed connection” and “basically a script for an episode of tma”. Jon’s dialogue is in bold, to make up for the fact that there’s not a single dialogue tag in this whole mess

--

"Statement of Avery Chapman, regarding the bizarre events preceding the death of their twin sibling Aeren Chapman. Statement taken direct from subject, twenty-third June two thousand and sixteen. Statement begins."

"Look, this isn't going to cast me in a great light to start off with, but I lied to get in the door. I mean, can you blame me? If I had let me in, and I’d heard the truth, I would've been like, 'We don't have time for pranksters, come back when you have an actual statement to give.' Because, I mean, come on. What I'm about to tell you sounds like bullshit. The truth is, I'm not Avery Chapman, and my statement has nothing to do with any events from before Aeren died. So, let me give you a more accurate version of what you just said."

"Statement of Aeren Chapman, regarding the bizarre events following their own untimely death. There, now it's on the record. Let's get into it.”

"My entire life, I could hear a ticking clock. Not literally. But I was always thinking about the time. How long would it take to do this? How much time until that? Will I be able to do everything I want or need before time runs out? Nobody really understood, of course. From the day I was old enough to even communicate that kind of feeling, all I ever heard was, 'Don't worry, you're young! You have all the time in the world!' And it was the same, right up until the end. I mean, guess that's not really fair to my folks. They tried to get me help, usually in the form of allergy meds that kind of had anti-anxiety properties in low lighting if you were really trying to see 'em. I've never been a cheap drunk and since my grandpappy on my mom’s side was, every psych I went to see was too scared of the Ghost of Addictions Past to give me anything that worked. So instead, I lived with the clock. And I got really good at pretending it wasn't there. Sometimes I could even enjoy the moment."

"That changed when I got older, of course. I'm from the US, if you couldn't tell from the...everything about me, and you probably can at least guess how it is over there. Go, go, go, until you drop dead if necessary, to appease the almighty money line. And unlike with school, with work you don't exactly get summers off. So that ticking clock came back full force. I remember, one time, my roommates and I were going to get carry-out and watch a movie, and I had work in the morning. One of my roommates, Jace, went out to pick up the food, and I guess he got stuck in traffic or something, because he didn't get back for an hour and all I could think was 'that's one less hour I have to actually relax before I have to get up and go back to work tomorrow', and I was on edge the entire rest of the night. Couldn't enjoy the movie, was short with Jace and Holly every time they tried to make conversation...just being a real irritable asshole."

"That was pretty close to when it happened, actually. Maybe a few weeks or so. I guess that would explain a lot. It doesn't matter what happened to me the night I died. All you really need to know is that it was violent, gruesome, and traumatic. For some reason, it didn't even register to me that I was dying until I realized I could hear the ticking, for real this time. With every single step it got louder and louder, matching pace with my feet staggering down the pavement as my body was basically falling apart below me, until I finally rounded a corner and collapsed. And then the ticking stopped, and I looked up."

"I could see a skeleton sitting in front of me, but...not the way a corpse would be sitting. Not the way I was sitting. They were sitting criss-cross applesauce, and for how old and dusty the bones looked I was shocked to see that they were dressed pretty young for, you know, a skeleton. Big skirt, peace sign shirt, hippie headband, that kind of thing. Could've died in the seventies, could have died last year. I didn't get to really figure that out before they motioned to the things laid out in front of them. Game tokens. Not an exhaustive amount of them, but I could see a chess piece, a die, and a deck of cards. All bone, because apparently every single psychopomp’s a corny bastard. I tried to decline. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I was sick of the clock and I couldn't see an upside to going back to it. They laughed at me. Not out loud, but they made the motions. Then they urged me to pick a token again. Asshole."

"By the way, turns out Death knows Yahtzee. I wouldn't say I expected to win. I wasn't even sure I hoped to win. All I wanted was an end to the not knowing. I figured something out that night, Archivist. It’s not death humans are afraid of, it’s uncertainty. If we knew for sure exactly what happened after we died, I don’t think anyone would be afraid to die.”

“Guess this goes without saying, but I won. Didn’t even cheat, just got a few really good rolls. I didn’t really know what to expect; I figured my insides would knit themselves back together and I’d rejoin the world of the living instead of playing Yahtzee with a hippie skeleton in a dark alley on a street that was normally a hell of a lot busier. That I’d go back to the miserable job and the crappy apartment and the ticking clock. But that isn’t what happened. If it was I would’ve taken this whole experience to my permanent grave. I mean, someone’s insides got knitted back together that night. But they weren’t mine. I watched the flesh fall off my bones as the skeleton in the long skirt became more and more alive, until a flesh-and-blood girl who couldn’t have been older than me stood up and left the alley. I think she said something to me as she was leaving. I want to say it was ‘forgive me’, but I’m thinking it was ‘better you than me’. For some reason I wasn’t scared or sad or anything but relieved. It sounds fucked up, I know, but have you ever lived a life where you had nothing to look forward to? At least with this I could see a way out.”

“I won’t bore you describing the interim. You look like a smart guy, you’re probably familiar with what the Grim Reaper does. What matters is how I got all the meat back. And why I’m wearing this massive coat and knit cap in June.” “You see, most people in the few years I did this were partial to the chance games, or low-skill board games. Roulette was a big one. So was blackjack. Someone got smart and tried Candyland once. But only one person ever picked chess.”

“He was maybe mid-thirties. Wasn’t really sure what had happened to him but he was covered in blood and terrified. I’d say ‘scared to death’ but that seems gauche. I don’t understand chess beyond the basic object of the game and what the different pieces can do, but even I could tell this guy was either terrible at chess or not in the right mental place to be making strategic decisions in a game for his life. Or both. Both is always an option."

“I could have wiped the floor with him, even with my lack of skill. He pretty much put his king in check by himself, all I did was avoid his clumsy attempts to capture my pieces. Here’s where you probably think I’m about to say ‘this is where I got sloppy’ or some shit like that. No. I knew exactly what I was doing and I meant to do it.” 

“I’d say it was agonizingly long, but really, any amount of time is agonizingly long when the action is ‘playing chess in complete silence under a bridge somewhere in London’. But after the most frustrating game of my life, my clueless savior checkmated me. I told him I was sorry as I left. I don't know if he heard me over the screaming."

"Just like that, it was over. Quick trip to a library told me it had been about three years since I won the most important game of Yahtzee ever, and that same quick trip found me an extended family member in the area who didn't ask too many questions. Weird, really. Always thought my dad was an only child. But that's beside the point. Since becoming flesh again a few months ago, I haven't heard the ticking clock, metaphorically or literally. I suffered the agony of death and the indignity of reaping, and came out the same as I've ever been.”

“Or so I thought. Here’s the thing: whatever chose me that night didn’t like that ending for me. The dying are supposed to try to cheat Death. It’s in their nature. If they win by successfully cheating, more power to them. But Death is impartial. Death isn’t supposed to cheat. And Death certainly isn’t supposed to get clever and throw the game. Which brings me to the main reason I'm here, I guess. Give me a moment."

[There is a sound of a heavy coat hitting the floor]

"I normally don't wear tank tops, but in this case it's kind of important that I show as much as I can. Check this out."

[There is a sound of something unzipping]

"They unzip into shorts. Best sixteen pounds I ever spent. Would've just worn shorts, but with how big this coat is I would've looked like a flasher. And now, off with the hat. Don't freak out."

"Good god, what happened to you!?"

"I literally JUST said not to freak out, dude. Impressive you managed to keep it together up until the bleeding head wound though. A lesser man might have said that when he saw the sutures."

"None of this stuff actually happened to me, of course. Not in the sense that I was ever actually physically vivisected or beheaded or whacked in the head hard enough to crack my skull. These just happen to me. I wake up with them, for the most part. And...well, I'll spare you the gruesome stuff, but they're not stitched up neatly when I get them. Thank god Cousin Jesse's a passable seamstress, because hospitals tend to lose their shit when you bring in a patient who's still up walking around with several fatal wounds and no detectable pulse. Not something I want to deal with twice."

"So that's the whole story, I guess. I broke the rules, and now I'm suffering the consequences. The wounds go away, after a while. At first I thought it was mercy, but now I know it's because if some of them didn't disappear there eventually wouldn't be enough left of me to keep punishing. And, I'm not exactly an expert, but I think I'm supposed to suffer the damage from every single gruesome, unimaginably painful death that's ever happened to a human being before I'll be free. That's a lot of deaths. Good thing I have all the time in the world, I guess."

"Statement ends."

“Awesome. Is that all you need from me?”

“I believe so.”

“Great. Let me just get all my coverups back on...”

“Don’t forget your...trouser legs.”

“Of course not.”

[There is a sound of something zipping.]

“Uh, if I don’t see him on my way out, can you tell that hot guy with the undercut who showed me the way to your office that I’m sorry I ran into him? I turned the corner too fast and damn near hip-checked the poor guy into a wall. Not a great first impression.”

“I suppose so.”

“Thanks a bunch. I’d ask you to give him my number, too, buuuut right now I only have a home phone. Oh well. Later, skater.”

[Click.]

[babymapleleaf]

Could you draw little Jon playing with one of his caregivers? Thinking about him a lot ❤️

I’ve been wanting to draw Tim hanging out with one of the kiddos for a few days now, so I’m taking this as my excuse UwU

[ao3feed-themagnusarchives]

Brotherly Love

by Prim_the_Amazing

Danny comes back to London. There’s so many places in the world to visit, so many things and people to do and meet and enjoy, but he always eventually comes back to London, sporting a tan along with a dozen new exciting stories to share. 

His big brother lives there, after all. And Danny loves his brother. 

Words: 7115, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Danny Stoker

Relationships: Danny Stoker/Tim Stoker

Additional Tags: Incest, Sibling Incest, Drunk Sex, dark!Danny, Slut Shaming, trans tim, badwrong noncon porn

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068984