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swirlysmile · 2 years

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Wondering if you please write where Jake "Hangman" Seresin and civilian shyreader are dating. The pilots and her best guy friend also a pilot (or navy seal or military) are playing truth or dare, like the pilots except her best friend dare her to sit on hangman lap, thinking he might ignore her or push her away but surprisingly to them he lets her and gives her lots of love and attention ♥️♥️♥️ just hardcore fluff

hope this is what you meant!

school just started so requests are going to take a little longer for me to get to. i’m sorry about that, hope you guys can be patient with me! ❤️

word count: 274

warnings; none

Can I Sit Here?

“Do it!” Your best friend says, his attempts of encouragement doing little to calm the swell

of anxiety in you. “He’s literally your boyfriend,” Phoenix says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Loaded question,” You reply, taking another swig of your beer. Jake was sitting on the other side of the beach, talking to Rooster, Coyote, and Payback. You’re about to start chomping on your nails, nervousness enveloping your every sense. He’s beaming; you don’t want to ruin that by completing this stupid dare.

It’s days like these when you wish you hadn’t visited the Hard Deck that fateful Tuesday. Just two years ago, and if you had stopped yourself from going despite Penny’s nagging, you’d be fine.

You’re shaking. You’ve never been close with Coyote, Rooster, or Payback for that matter. You preferred to stick to your little friendship bubble with Specks, Bob, Fanboy, and Phoenix.

“Wish me luck.” You whisper to the group, downing the rest of your drink. Specks gives you an encouraging pat on the back and a little push.

“Can I sit here?” You ask, making sure to speak into his head in case the answer is less than ideal. You’re prepared for the worst, voices in your head telling you to turn the other way, run into the ocean and never look back.

Surprisingly, Jake doesn’t even turn his head, pulling you into his lap without a second thought. He wraps his arms around you securely, placing his head on your shoulder (but only after pressing a gentle kiss into the back of your neck!).

You relax in his arms, and Specks sends you a cheeky thumbs up.

#hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader #hangman #hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #swirly writes #swirly anon

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inoreuct · 4 months

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thinking about zoro noticing sanji being more restless at dinner one night. he’s imperceptibly frazzled, perfect suit a little less put together, tie looser around his neck and carrying a barely-noticeable tremble in his fingertips that isn’t usually there. zoro’s noticed him eyeing the bottle of sherry on the countertop whether he himself realises it or not, and the realisation dawns on zoro that the damn cook needs a break.

he of all people knows how sanji pushes himself too far— maybe not physically, but he will blatantly ignore burnout and mental fatigue until it eats away at him enough that he’s forced to stop, whether by the crew’s efforts or his own oft-disregarded limitations. it’s a form of undeserved self-flagellation that makes zoro want to punch a wall but sanji can’t know he cares, no, because 1. the cook won’t take well to being “mothered” (cue zoro’s eye roll) and 2. they’re supposed to be rivals. hello.

so after dinner he tidies the galley to sanji’s exact specifications (which he just,,, happens to have memorised, alright, stop making a big deal out of it. he knows all his nakama’s routines. shut up.) and finds the cook on the deck, liquor in hand, telling him that luffy had asked him to. he snags the sherry from sanji’s slender fingers so that the cook doesn’t drink too much too fast. he feels sanji struggle with words and leaves the space around them empty so that the cook can fill it as and when he sees fit.

it’s the least that zoro can do, he thinks. holding space for someone he cares about because he’s never been good enough with words to fill it himself, but sanji’s never seemed bothered.

zoro lets slip something that he doesn’t think about, the words natural as breathing, tries not to freak out about it, and takes his spot in the crow’s nest so that his cook can rest.

i wrote this properly in sanji’s pov and it’s here, by the way. if you even care.

#i’m kidding i love yall #the linked work’s a bit of a style study and a bit of angsting sanji for fun because i just can’t help it #he has so many issues i wanna pry him apart like a clock and find out how the hell he ticks at all #realising now that that sounds vaguely psychopathic but. can’t very well write about this curly swirly mess without losing your mind a bit #one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #zoro

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zytes · 6 months

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black static, forbidden magic

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goosterbold · 1 year

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sanji to me is a dogboy, however black hair Germa sanji is a catboy. zoro Horrified at the Startling Terrible Transformation (sanji wants to sit in his lap and get pets on the head)

do you understand

#one piece #zosan #zoro is. of course. a tiger boy. are you writing this down?#please enjoy bad japanese pun for sanji purring guruguru (swirly) instead of gorogoro (purring)

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tiffray · 4 months

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Got any NSFW Otis headcanons?

is water wet?

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Heads up these aren’t your regular vanilla ass “oh hes into blood play 😍” type shit. If you need a warning, consider this to be it. Very much focused on what he does to victims.

Warning for rape, incest fantasies, necro, and god knows what else.

- Necro: while this one’s canon, I don’t think the movie really conveyed how gross Otis gets with it. He loves to kill mid-rape, just really go at it with stabbing, strangling, bashing their face in, decapitation, you name it. And then will keep going till they get cold.

- Dehumanization: when he has a victim, he loves to make sure they know their place. As we see in Rejects, he keeps bitches in cages in his room so he could use them any time he wishes. He will put them on leashes, chains, keep them naked, piss in their faces, and sometimes even knock their teeth out so he could fuck their mouths. And if they bleed on his boots, they better put their tongues to use too and clean it all up unless they want it cut out.

- Daddy kink: generous description, more like incest play. While he’s into being called daddy in general, he also makes his victims call him dad. If they talk back or “misbehave” in any way, Otis brings the belt out and gets his “little girl” to beg for dad to stop and to go gentle while Otis does anything but. He gets especially creepy while doing this, instead of being outright violent besides slapping, spanking, beating and choking, he’ll be feeling up his victim to really make them feel like they’re being molested.

- Blasphemy: no matter who they are, he will find a way to incorporate religion into playing around with a victim. Starting off with making them pray while he’s groping them, going rougher the louder they pray, he also likes to force them to fuck themselves on a cross while he talks about how pathetic they are for having faith in the first place. He’ll mock them for believing in any greater good while The Devil himself is right there in front of them, I mean where is their God when he’s taking away all their purity and innocence? His victims are especially lucky (unlucky?) if they are virgins and he’s able to make them bleed, he gives them special treatment by carving them up the gentlest.

- Sadomasochism: the rare times he chooses to jerk off instead of shoving his dick in someone’s raped out pussy, or a cold mouth, he’ll be inflicting just as much pain on his own self. He might not like to show this side to him but he likes to fuck himself on a knife handle, gripping the blade tight, then jerking himself with his bloodied hand.

- And whatever this is in his official Rejects bio

#this took me so long to write up im going through withdrawals LMFAO #these aint even hcs i just know these things ☝️ go figure.#otis driftwood #otis b driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #the devils rejects #specifically also left out what he does with his clown #also what is up with the pink swirly font #asks #rz

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king-magppi · 1 year

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A buncha stuff I doodled and some talksprites I recreated in my style for "painting" practice! 😊 It's been almost TWO whole months since I first got into Psychonauts now and even after playing the second one, I still prefer the first one! It's been a while since I got into a franchise that had me invested in more than one or two characters! I really hit the jackpot!

#I just realized I missed the opportunity to write 'Kiss The Milkman' on The Milkman's apron and I'm so mad about it💔#psychonauts fanart #psychonauts #boyd cooper #the milkman #the milkman conspiracy #crispin whytehead #fred bonaparte #you can definitely tell I have favorites #For those wondering about what on earth is going on with The Milkman's eyes: for some reason i just cannot see him with normal pupils #it doesnt feel right to me so i draw him either without them #or with blue swirly ones #it's to make him creepy and off-putting bc he's too cute otherwise #just LOOK at him #bro is glowing like he just got out of Disney's Hercules😭😭😭#psychonauts 1

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dcvina-claires · 11 months

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misty quigley is the most unserious character ever actually. she gets dressed up in her cute pink sweaters that have kittens on them and goes about her daily routine of murdering someone

#she bakes a cookie and writes on it with the most delicate swirly icing ‘i want my lawyer’#yellowjackets #misty quigley #yj

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thebestieyoureinlovewith · 4 months

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n o t h i n g-a creative piece by me

Sometimes it feels like there's

n o t h i n g

And sometimes I care

Sometimes I don't

I'm such a liar. Spouting poetry when I break down like it's going to do anything. Telling my parents things that will never be true. And my friends. It's like everything is scripted. Nothing I do is real. And is that how everyone feels? Or am I only hearing the echo of my own desperate shouts. I use the word desperate a lot in things I write. And echo. I think that I think I use it more than I do, because whenever I write down the word I feel strange. In a good way. It gives me a purpose sort of? Like...desperate. This is such nonsense I don't even know what I'm writing. Just so we're clear, I never know what I'm writing. When it comes, it just does, all at once. Except when it's

n o t h i n g. But I can live with nothing. Apparently people go insane when they have nothing to do but stare at white walls. I've never been all that into physical activity, and doesn't everyone think they're special, so probably maybe I'd be fine?? I like to think about what I'd do. I'd sing. Talk to myself about my characters. About my secrets. Things I feel that no one will ever know about. I wish someone did know. Maybe they'd say I was crazy?? Would that make it better? It might actually. Like...it's not as big as I'm making it out to be. Everything. Because sometimes there's just n o t h i n g and I can live with it but I'm not sure about it all the time. It gets to a point where you get hurt a lot then you get used to it. Except I haven't yet which sucks. Should I use the word sucks?? Who cares? I maybe put too much effort into the words I put down. Maybe I'll delete this before I even post it. What was even the point of this post in the first place. I'm okay, by the way, nothing to worry about, I'm just thinking. About something. The problem is...I can never think about

n o t h i n g.

#writing #words #not me actually i promise im fine #i just wanted to write something #words are beautiful #swirly things #its a lot #its everything and nothing and im in love with the world a little bit #and just words #what am i doing

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transcicle · 4 months

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who up getting autistic over a podcast theyve never seen

more under cut idk if theyll format or not... beware

some of these i just did some of these are old

some of these are the drawing style thing i did sooo.... in order... : FIRST THROUGH FOURTH IMAGE peter drew those :-) FIFTH rumi drew that one :-) SIXTH exandroth drew those :-) SEVENTH peter drew that one :-) self portait EIGHTH rumi [bad at art edition] both NINE and TEN i dont remember if they were ment to be peter or just me goofin... so picjk ur poison LOL ELEVEN thats peter LAST THREEEE meeeeee :3 9-10 and 12-14 are the older ones everything else i did last night / this mornin'

#jrwi #jrwi apotheosis #angelstone #sqlumi #................i prefer sqlumi.... why did name it angel stone thats like exandroth + peter not rumi + peter its confusing to me #im sorry i watched the angelstone cut like half a year ago #IM SOOO AUTISTIC ABOUT THEM YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA MAN YOU HAVE NO CLUE SOSHAKSHLSXHLDHDJDJKRKFKF #i cant contain it anymorw im going to post my cringe #quite a few of these ones are from my little handwriting drawing things where i make up their handwriting and art style tee hee #i think rumi either SUCKS ASS at drawing or can decently draw in an anime esque style #i imagine peter has a lil bit of artistic abilities... he did paint a ton of mug paintings if i remember right????#he aint the best but he can do it #thanatos has 0 skill because he has never drawn anything ever until this hypothetical situation where theyre drawing and writing this all #exandroth adapts peters skill to an extent #peter tries to follow the rules taught to him about writing as a child to a T soooo he has generally neat handwriting if hes thinking abt i #but if hes tired or just out of it idk #you cant get one word man that shit is just complete chicken scratch even he cant figure it out sometimes LOOLLLL #rumi also has very neat handwriting HOWEVER i love the idea that she hams it up to be really swirly like that one girl in elementary #thanatos is very stiff and neat might as well just be font...#exandroth is either writing in full caps or alternating between whatever ver of a letter he wants to write at any time #VERY heavy handed and goes over every line like 3 times #when writing his name EVERYTIME he writes exandroth archangel of retribution everytime #if you guys wanna see what i have so far.... you can ask.... hehe #theyre my ocs at this point man i havent seen the damn campaign #i would just make them my ocs but my brain immediately loses interest whenever i do that uuuuggghhhhg #i mean i have a beast moomin furry thing peter and an object oc peter bur #*but like idk #btw i have like waaayyy more to say but i reached tag limit <////333 tumblr hates autistic people real #ill just retype it all in the next post ^.^*#archive

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aliothbuzzsawshark · 4 months

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The best weapon he has, a fursuit.

#buzzsaw’s art #yuga goha #swirly (yugioh)#Yugioh swirly #Swirls yugioh #This is apart of a fic I wanna write but without context is fine too

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pippastrelle · 2 months

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Spell it phonetically, one grapheme per sound.

2. Write out consonants. Keep them each within one square. [In the fake history, imagine this writing system started out as an abjad.]

3. Arrange the consonants into a grid, 4 maximum. The consonant(s) you separate is context-dependent. Here, '-ing' is a suffix so we separate 'ng/q'.

[Here we have KNLQQ! But an English-based abjad can be difficult to follow.]

4. Write out vowels. Keep them each within one square.

[But where do OAI go in KNLQQ? Oknalqiq? We need more guidance.]

5. Mark any vowel with a consonant in its coda with a line.

6. Arrange the vowels into a grid, 4 consonants maximum. [No need to separate the 'i' in '-ing' here.]

[Giving you KNLQ-Q O'AI', or KoNLaQiQ]

7. Write over the grid version with the circle tool.

8. Put each character in an equal square.

9. Spruce up with variable lineweight to finish~!

[And you can even read the original letters in the swirls if you know how to look.]

#conscript #conlang #constructed script #writing system #i've been playing with this swirly system for a while #now's as good a time as ever to show it off!#i do love making writing systems

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swirlysmile · 2 years

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Hi! I've been thinking about this idea so if you like you can write about it🤗: reader ejects during a practice for the mission and has to spend the night at the infirmary just in case, worried trying to hide it hangman goes to see her and ends up staying (not dating yet, they go back and forth with silly fights but already have feelings for the other), reader tries to play it cool like it was nothing but maybe he tries to make her laugh to cheer her up if you want?

changed it up a little, forgive me 🥲 still stuck to the general idea, so hope you like it!!

word count: 2k

warnings; mentions of ejections, dangerous situations, some swearing, slightly OOC hangman

Eject, Eject

You wish you weren’t here right now, but you also felt incredibly blessed to not have a WSO with you.

Right now, your plane was rapidly descending. Engine recovery measures were failing, and at this point you were too far in to give up.

“Left engine failure,” you speak, trying to keep a level tone. You knew that if you panicked, everybody else would.

Murmurs of instructions were being blasted in your ears through the comms, but none of them really hit until Maverick said “If you eject any later, you’ll die!”

You’re already almost to 500 feet, making ejection more dangerous than it would have been if you’d listened the first time.

That cleared your conscience enough to make you notice what a low altitude you were at.

The jet was screaming at you to pull up- and your co-workers were screaming at you to eject.

You finally got it in your head that there was no saving this plane, so you reached down to grasp the handles and pulled upwards.

You manage to open your eyes just in time to see the main event- your F-18 drop into the mountainside. The ringing in your ears tells you that it didn’t sound as cool as it looked.

You’re sure that your slightly limp body floating down from the sky missed the mark too.

The other pilots are celebrating from their huddle by the radio after Maverick confirms he saw a parachute.

You’re barely conscious after your landing. You're close enough to the ruins of your F-18 that the fumes are really starting to get to your head, and the wreckage doesn’t smell very good.

Your vision goes a little dark, then you hear the sounds of a sweet sweet rescue helicopter.

After that, you’re out.

There's sounds of beeping, a few monitors hooked up to you, and a whole lot of headache. Other than that, you feel great, Nothing broken, and hopefully nothing of note.

“They’re keeping you in for the night to monitor you,” Maverick says and you can’t help but groan.

They haven’t found anything wrong, what could change in a night?

Apparently lots, but that’s besides the point.

You’re passed out again for maybe fifteen minutes, the click of the door opening awakening you.

“Bagman,” you deadpan, and he gives a mock two finger salute.

“Dammit, you’re not dead. Thought I was going to slide into the number one spot.”

“Alive and well, thanks for your concern.”

Hangman is happy that Coyote isn’t present, or he’d expect some ‘Oh, he was concerned alright’ comment, exposing him in his lies. He walks over to one of the chairs by the springy hospital bed and happily takes a seat.

“What’s new?”

“These lovely tubes, the soothing beeps, and this military issued bed that’s actually a little comfortable.”

He grins at that last one, knowing the pain of springy bunk beds all too well. Honestly though, he’s just glad you’re alive, and he’s a man on a mission, a mission to get you out of here as soon as possible. Maverick didn’t tell him much, so he had no idea how long you’d be in the hospital.

“I don’t know, it looks a little small,”

“You say that as if the gymnastic mats we get are any bigger.” You scoff jokingly, and he grins again.

Normally, Hangman is all talk and it’s hard to enjoy being with someone like that. His mere -measly- little presence is enough to make you roll your eyes, especially when he says something that’s completely dicked. Now, he’s letting his ego deflate a little, and he’s convincing himself that it’s because he’s caught you in a moment of weakness. Hangman has already won, what more does he need to do?

Coyote would disagree.

He’s shaking his head a little, eyes closed.

“Ah man, you kill me. You really do.”

“Finally.”

“Still a dick, even on your deathbed.”

“We both know you’d be worse, Seresin.”

He can’t even argue, because he most definitely would be worse. He’s imagining what he’d do in that situation, and he’d probably be happy that he beat a fellow pilot to inevitable demise. If he can win at anything, he’ll take it.

He’s smiling, that stupid cocky little smile that he always does, but maybe less arrogance written on his face than usual. It’s replaced by a bit of joy.

“So, why’d you come?” You say, and his head starts to spin. He’s trying to think of excuses, but it doesn’t really work so he just settles on telling you the truth. “I don’t know, I was worried I guess.”

You roll your eyes at that one.

“I am honored that you in all your glory, Lieutenant, would worry about me.”

“You’re high ranking in my heart,” He says, and that makes your face go a little red. You blame it on the fact that you tried to hold the laughter in. He can’t help but laugh with you, partially at his own stupidity, and partially out of happiness. He did complete his ‘mission’ after all. You’re grinning, and clutching your chest while trying to regain your breath.

“Feeling better already?” He questions

“Definitely. Just being around you has cured me of all my ailments.”

“Laughter is the best medicine,”

You’re expecting him to leave at any moment now- thinking he came in just to push your buttons a little bit to your surprise, he stays. He keeps talking to

you- and it’s one of those rare cases where you actually enjoy talking to Jake.

Who knew that all it would take to make Hangman a pleasant presence is a near death experience?

“I was scared,” you admit, and Hangman’s eyes widened a little bit. You weren’t expecting to tell him that- you weren’t expecting to tell anyone that, but after a few hours of talking it just spilled out. It wasn’t unlike much of the other word vomit you’d shared. “It’d take one crazy son of a bitch not to be scared.” Jake says, and you smile meekly. It’s almost as if he’s admitting something himself.

The hospital staff practically has to kick him out because now he’s just talking to you about nothing in particular, and the weirdest part about it is he can’t stop- maybe he’s setting the scene, telling you about how your friends were worried (but he was completely cool, calm, and collected) when your engine failed. Maybe he’s telling you about the celebration when Mav announced the sight of a parachute- or he’s just telling you about how the rest of training went.

He’s being honest, telling you about how he felt throughout the day, but he leaves out his feelings on the engine malfunction.

It feels oddly vulnerable and new to him, and he’s not sure he’ll ever tell anyone how scared and helpless he felt.

When he leaves though, he leaves you with a wave and a small smile, and your heart rate begins to go a little faster- the monitor exposing you.

“Hey hey hey! You about gave me a heart attack yesterday,” Phoenix says, greeting you in all of your un-hospitalized glory. You give her a grin as the rest of your fellow pilots come up to say hi.

One person hangs back, Hangman.

He’s thinking he already talked to you enough. He spent hours in the hospital, and he’s hoping that you aren’t going to say anything. He’d be in for some mocking ‘jokes’ from Bradshaw if that were the case. His little charade is ongoing until you pop up next to him and make an off handed comment about his appearance, something like “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” and then the teasing begins.

He’s geared up, getting ready to fly the course for this super special mission when Coyote pops up next to him. Hangman is internally groaning. If anybody is going to say some ego-bruising, self-image shattering comment, it’s Coyote. Then he just stares at Jake- “Man, you’re whipped.”

Jake stares back incredulously. Whipped isn’t a word he would even think could be used to describe him, but he stays silent.

“Man, I knew it!” He says, and he’s hitting Jake on the back.

“No way in hell am I ‘whipped’” He says, adding in finger quotes for that extra bit of emphasis.

“You can tell yourself that all you want, Hang. We all know it’s true, and it’s a matter of time before you realize. Before she realizes.” Rooster adds, walking into the room.

“Shut up Bradshaw.”

Hangman rolls his eyes, finishes zipping up his flight suit, and leaves.

Maverick immediately knows something is up. Hangman’s usual instinct to fly fast hasn’t kicked in- he’s actually doing pretty well, as far as not “crashing” into walls goes. He’s about halfway through the course when it finally hits him, and he can’t control his flying as well as usual. His head is a bit cloudy, and he isn’t focusing on the track in his nav system.

He almost goes headfirst into one of the canyon walls, narrowly avoiding it by pulling up into “SAM territory”.

“Hangman, you’re dead.” He hears, and he curses. He knows that Maverick is going to scold him, and frankly, he isn’t in the mood. The worst part about it all though? Bradshaw did better than him.

“Why are you dead?”

“I don’t know, sir.” He says, answering semi-honestly. He’s not going to expose himself to the rest of the class, but he also isn’t entirely sure why he ‘died’.

“That’s not good enough. Why are you dead?”

“I pulled up to avoid hitting a wall.”

“Why were you going to hit the wall in the first place?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

Maverick just sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and stops talking. The room is eerily silent until he tells the next pilots to get moving, and says “Seresin, come here.”

You can't make out what Maverick says, other than a whisper of “What’s got you so distracted, kid?”

You’re watching them intently when Hangman finally sits back down, and Maverick turns his attention back to the simulated course on screen.

When the last group of failures gets back, everyone’s gone in the air and Captain Mitchell is not having any of it.

“I suggest all of you get over whatever is distracting you and learn to fly the damn course! Dismissed.”

When you leave base, your head is pounding. Getting yelled at is never fun, and in light of recent events, it makes it worse. Not that you’re not used to yelling- The Navy is a whole lot of yelling. You, logically, know Maverick means well, but damn that was harsh, especially since the spiel was directed at Hangman.

He washes his face, and body, with cold water but the shower does little to ease his racing mind. Then, he gets the bright idea to get it out of his system in the form of a confession.

You hear the pounding on the door of your military-issued housing and you groan. The door opens with a loud screech, and you’re surprised to find Jake Seresin standing outside, hair still wet.

“Seresin, what can I do for you?” You say with a smile, and sure, if this had been 3 days earlier you definitely would have told home to go home, or get lost. The turn around shocked even you, all because of a hospital visit.

“Hear me out on this one, I really like you a lot and I think that’s why I came to the hospital. I was really scared, and I tried not to tell you about how I felt but…” At this point, you’re zoned out. His lips keep moving, and you keep staring at them. “When are you going to kiss me?” He hears, cutting through his rant. It takes you a moment to realize you’ve said it aloud, but you definitely notice when Jake's eyes are wide open, glued to your lips too.

It’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt nervous about kissing someone, so he’s glad when you tug the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you.

“Fina-fucking-ly” you say, and he laughs a little bit, chasing your lips again.

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #swirly writes #swirly anon #request #constructive criticism #constructive criticism welcome

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runefactorynonsense · 1 year

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Rune Factory 3 Special ; Maidens

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thatmoththoth · 9 months

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A fanfic for this Jon!distortion AU inspired by @jimsandfruit . This is just the prologue and I plan on adding more too this. Feedback and questions are greatly appreciated.

(Seriously tho this concept has so much potential)

Trigger Warning: the following story contains derealisation, dissasociation and a whole bunch of mental fuckery

Spoiler warning: potential spoilers for season 1-3 of the magnus archives. (And a lot of speculation and headcannons concerning the contents of the stated seasons)

Prologue

Jonathan Sims had just finished taking the poor disoriented Helen’s statement, and she was about to leave. Jon noticed that the door she was about to leave through was not always there. It was painted an ivory colour with a round purple doorknob which contrasted starkly with the dark stained wooden doors with silver handle knobs of the archive. “W-wait Helen!” he cried out, but it was too late, she had already gone through the door, and with hesitation, she turned her head to look at him thick with dread before the door slammed shut with a thud. For a long moment all he could do was stare at the door in disbelief. He needed to save her.

He stood up out of his chair and ran through the door to try and save her. Suddenly there was a strange headache inducing laughter echoing behind him before the door shut behind him.

He didn’t look back to see if the door was still there. Knowing what he knew from Helen’s statement about this place he was sure that he needn’t bother. Besides, he had to find her and couldn’t afford to waste any time. He ran through the hallways looking for her, seeking any trace of her, trying to get to her before this “micheal ” got to her first. There was no sign of her anywhere. He hadn’t run into a single other person in these halls despite having been here searching for hours. Still, like the stubborn fool he was, he pushed forwards.

He saw movement from the corner of his eye. Was it Helen, had he finally found her? He whipped around to look behind him but was instead greeted by that awful laughter.

Micheal.

“Oh Archivist… you really shouldn’t have come here.” that stupid grin was plastered on his stupid face.

“Where is she, Micheal!” he yelled with frustration, gritting his teeth as Micheals name was ushered from his lips. Jon didn’t have time for Micheals games.

“She is somewhere. Archivist, she's already long gone as far as it concerns you or I” laughter echoed through the twisted hallways. “It's already quite impossible for you two to ever reach, I’ve made quite sure of that.'' The contorted, twisting movements of Micheals body gave Jon a splitting headache.

“I wouldn't be too sure of that.” Jon responded with a spiteful tone, and Micheal laughed like it was some sort of joke. The laughter faded, and just like that he was gone. With much frustration Jon slammed his fist against the blue wallpaper, which was yellow before but was now red. His eye caught a piece of paper on the floor. It was yellow with age and had clearly seen quite a large amount of abuse. He walked to it and picked it up. He smoothed out the scrunched up paper and looked at the squiggly nonsensical lines that made perfect sense within these halls. It was a map. He had to follow it. Even if he wasn't sure where it led, there was still a certain air of importance in following it. It was the only sliver of hope he had left in finding Helen.

His eyes had a glint of hope as he began to follow the map. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew that it was taking him to some final destination, or that it was supposed to take him anywhere at all, but in these contorted and twisted halls it seemed to be the only tangible thing he had. He hoped the destination it led to was Helen, but deep inside his heart he knew that wasn’t true.

How long had he been here now? His mouth felt dry, from not drinking anything for who knows how long. Even so, something inside him knew this place wouldn’t let him die of natural causes. Fuzz began to creep into the corners of his mind.

To distract himself he started to say the directions out loud to no one in particular. For how long he did this he did not know.

“Left, left, Left, straight, through the window, break the mirror, down the stairs, right, right right……” the words were beginning to melt together as he spoke. He came to a realisation that he didn’t fully have the energy to comprehend the weight of. He couldn’t for the life of him remember his own name. Was it Charles? Wait no it started with J. James? Jack? Jonathan? Jim? They all seemed completely foreign to him. He couldn’t remember.

His eyes were zoned out, no longer frantically looking for answers like they almost always did. He was lost in his own head. He looked back at the map, it didn’t feel real as he held it in his hands. It was his only anchor in this messed up place, and even that couldn’t keep him grounded against the strong currents of the Sea of Dissociation, where each wave brought foreign things from another beyond onto his ship.

—-- He had aimlessly followed the map without thought for what felt like weeks. Finally it seemed he had reached his destination, the path had ended. All that lay in front of him was a mirror, he picked it up off the wall and looked into it. He recognised the face, it was supposed to be him, Jon. That was his name, right? But it wasn’t him. It was an eerie feeling looking into that mirror. Like looking at a doppelganger. He looked at where the mirror once was. There was a hole that stretched on for what felt like forever. He looked into the tunnel and saw something at the end. It was too far away to make out.

So he, like one did before, crawled through that tunnel. With each passing moment as he made it through that tunnel he could feel himself moving back further and further into his own head. Time faded away and became all but an illusion. As he got closer a sound got louder. It was like that of a beating heart. When he was almost to the end the sound was almost deafening, but still he pushed through. It was far too late to turn back now. When the end was finally reached he saw it in all its clarity.

It was the beating heart of the distortion. It sang to him, it called for him. He reached out and held it. It was a strange feeling to be holding such an impossible object. It was like every paradox was solved within it with yet another paradox. It didn’t look like a heart, not really, but he just knew in that dream-like manner of knowing, that it was the heart, the centre of it all.

He felt a tearing sense of agony go through him as his who was torn completely from his what. It was like he was torn apart and reassembled over and over again. He let out a pained cry of sheer and utter pain despite having no physical ability to scream as his body was forcefully twisted and contorted. His scream, and one other, could be heard all throughout the hallways. The distortion became Jon, and Jonanthan Sims became the distortion.

It was then that he remembered something he had all but forgotten. Helen. He needed to save helen. He ran through a door that was not there before. Jon called out for Helen and he heard her call back. He let out a sigh of relief. When he turned a corner he felt something run into him. It was Helen.

“Oh good heavens! Are you alright Helen?” Jon said worriedly..

“M-Michael? Get away from me!” she exclaimed, looking up at him with fright, not seeming to register the distortion's new identity.

“I’m not Micheal. It’s me, Jon” the mention of his own name felt wrong on his tongue.

Helen’s eyes cleared enough for her to fully take in what she was seeing. “J-Jon? But how? Why are you that… thing…?” her breathing slowly began to steady.

“I’ll explain when we get out here. This place isn’t good for you Helen.“ A door appeared next to them, and Jon picked Helen up with an ease he was not used to. When they were out of the room and back into Jon’s office he set her down. His office looked different from when he was here last. Dust had thickly layered on every surface it could, and everything had been put neatly away.

“... so are you going to tell me what happened Jon?” Helen’s tone was confused yet stern.

“Well, I went in after you, and I uh… ended up taking a shift in identity. Micheal is gone. permanently. I was him, but now I’m Jon, The Distortion.” Helen gave him a confused glare. “I’m not making sense am I?” Helen shook her head. “Well it makes perfect sense to me.” he mumbled, folding his arms and looking to the side with mild defiance. He couldn’t seem to explain it in words people could understand. “I’m sorry it took so long to save you.” He let out a exhausted sigh. -”I-I just don’t know where to go from here.” he sat in his chair, struggling to fit in it comfortably. “You should just go home and try to forget this all ever happened Helen. One more thing, please don’t tell anyone about what happened to me, or mention that I was ever in there. It’ll be what’s best for both of us.”

“Ok… Goodbye Jon…” Helen said, very confused but feeling as if she now owed something to Jon for saving her. Helen left the room and Jon was left to ponder.

What was he going to do now? He couldn’t just continue work as normal, no not when he’s been missing for who knows how long and and especially not when he looked like this. How were Tim, Sasha, and Martin going to react? Sasha… he remembered something, something from before he was Jon and from when he was Micheal. The real Sasha was dead. His friend was gone. Did the others know that she had been replaced? A pang of sadness washed over him. She had died and he hadn’t even noticed. He began to feel sorry for Tim for putting him at the top of his suspect list.

Suddenly his phone rang. He debated on whether or not to answer it, before eventually hitting the answer button and holding it to his ear with long fingers.. “Hello?”

“Jon, we need to talk.” It was Elias. He didn’t sound too pleased.

“Hello Elias…” he paused, remembering from michaels past what his boss was. “You want to talk to me about my recent… changes… yes?” there was a slight shakiness to his voice

Elias let out a sigh. “Come to my office. Now.” there was a certain finality to his voice. Jon thought for a moment.

“Why should I?”

“I had a feeling you would be difficult. Let me phrase it differently. Come to my office, or I kill Tim.” that shut Jon up very quickly. There was a beep as he hung up the phone. The time was long after hours. He put his phone in his pocket before he cautiously made his way to Elias’s office. Jon took a deep breath before going through the door of his boss’s office.

“So, what do you want from me Elias?”

“You have no idea how much your little show of heroics has cost me, Jon. I can’t get a new Archivist because you're still alive… and still the Archivist.”

“So what do you want from me then?” Even though he could now easily overpower Elias if it came down to it, at least physically, he was still terrified of the man, even more so now that he remembers what he did to Gertrude.

“I want you to keep working in the archive as normal. I told everyone you had gone missing and were presumed dead, assuming you wouldn’t end up returning. I’ll tell them you had a bad encounter with the paranormal, and that they shouldn’t pester you about it. Please just try your best to act relatively normal or so help me.”

“I suppose I could do that.” he didn’t want to, but it wasn’t like Elias was giving him much choice in the matter.

“Great, now please leave my office. you're giving me a headache.” He said in annoyed tone as he gestured towards the door

“Gladly.” Jon responded spitefully, before leaving, and heading back to his house.

Elias’s plans had been shattered, leaving him to put the pieces back together as best he could.

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