Chapters: 12/12
Fandom: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Dr. Henry Jekyll & Original Character(s), Edward Hyde/Original Character(s)
Characters: Dr. Henry Jekyll, Edward Hyde, Ernest Frankenstein (Guest appearance)
Additional Tags: Jekyll and Hyde start out as the same person but become different people over time
Summary:
Hello, this is my take on an alternative ending of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, where instead of murdering someone, Hyde falls in love! With Y/N, who could also easily be read as an OC rather than the reader, depending on preference. To keep this story inclusive for all who want to read Y/N as themselves, I've used they/them pronouns, although for context Y/N was originally written to be mask presenting.
This work does have several mentions of sex, but I've made sure to avoid descritions. In fact, I've gotten my lovely euphemisms from the article "400+ Hilarious Euphemisms For Sexual Intercourse"
Have fun :D
the way some transgender people talk about social dysphoria is absolutely gross.
you know how often i see people say something like "you can just choose not to care if people misgender you"? a fucking lot.
like, congrats, well done, sounds like you don't have social dysphoria. but what you're saying is literally implying that gender dysphoria is a choice, that we can just somehow choose not to have gender dysphoria.
oh sorry, i should be more specific: social dysphoria. because they would never say this about body dysphoria because body dysphoria is seen as the real dysphoria.
if someone were to say "you can just choose not to care if parts of your body feel wrong" they would rightfully get a shitstorm, yet people use this same exact rhetoric about social dysphoria literally all the time.
it's just yet another example of more covert transmedicalism, because you all still see transgenderness as mainly a thing of the body and will make that more than clear every step of the way.
i can't choose not to have social dysphoria. you're just privileged.
I certainly can't speak for everyone, but personally, I've always felt like getting misgendered hurts in the same way that water torture does. One use of the wrong pronouns? No problem! As long as the person did it by accident, I don't care. The hard part is when it happens constantly. Consistently. Every. Single. Day. Then, it gets annoying. Then Infuriating. Then disheartening. You start to feel like your own identity is being eroded away, drop by drop.
I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea but I thought I'd post it here!
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Victor Frankenstein (Code: Realize)/Reader
Characters: Victor Frankenstein
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles
Summary:
You are fed up with the constant stress you are under because of your roommate, Victor. You are about to move out when a surprise storm stops you dead in your tracks. Thankfully, Victor is there to help in any way he can.
In this story, you are an intelligent and quick witted yet underfunded med student at the university of Ingolstadt, and Victor’s unfortunate roommate.
The magnus archives fan episode, season 1: Frostbite
👁🪽🏔❄️👁🪽🏔❄️👁🪽🏔❄️👁🪽🏔❄️👁🪽
TW: Gore, frostbite, uhhh, its a TMA episode.
Word count: 2,191
Jonathan was working in his office when someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” He called out. The door opened and a person with a cast on their shoulder carefully stepped inside.
"Hello! I'm here to.. make a statement? Is- Are you the right person to talk to about that?” Jonathan looked up, clearly less than thrilled to have a guest at this time. He sighed before answering,
“Yes, that'd be me. Take a seat.” The person carefully sat down and dropped their messenger bag next to them. Jonathan folded his arms in front of him before asking,
“To start, can I get your name?”
“I'm Brian… Brian Bentley.”
“And what exactly is this statement going to be about, Brian?”
"Well- Um- I would call it a hypothermia induced hallucination, but my friends call it a very real encounter with a pair of malicious spirits.” Jonathan leaned back in his seat before muttering,
"Of course they did,” He tapped the start button on the tape recorder on his desk, "Statement of Brian Bentley regarding an encounter with 'spirits'. Statement recorded directly from subject on March 5th, 2003. Statement begins.”
"R- right. Um- The encounter happened while I was on a camping trip with my companions, Emma Harker, Lilly Smith, and Sam McGregor. We had all been part of the Scouting Association as kids, so we decided it'd be a good idea to camp up on Mount Scafell Pike, where temperatures get below freezing nightly.”
"Mount Scafell Pike, in Cumbria, I presume?”
"Yes. We started hiking up the mountain at about 10 AM on February 24th, and set up camp at 8 PM. By the time we set up camp, the snow was thick enough to bury you if you took a wrong step and fell into it. We found an area where the snow had partially melted and resolidified into a much denser structure of ice crystals, which we used to construct an igloo. It wasn't very big, but it was surprisingly stable, and we could just barely all fit into it with our gear. Emma even complained about it being cramped, but showed no intention of leaving the warm protection of the space, especially when night quickly cloaked the land in a moonless cover of darkness. We used the tiny portable stove I had brought to melt some snow into tea, and heat up our ramen noodle dinners. The hike up was solemnly quiet since we were all too cold and tired to hold a conversation, but now that we were warmed up by food and drinks, and the snow walls reflecting the heat back at us, we joyously chatted away. After eating, I decided to go out for a short walk, which none of my companions had any interest in... I must admit, the location of the trip wasn't the best decision on my part. I've always had trouble maintaining a healthy body temperature in the cold, and there have been several cases of hikers getting lost atop the mountain and freezing... but I did have a good reason to plan the trip: The night sky. That night was a full moon, and as the weather forecast predicted, the sky was perfectly clear. There in the cold darkness, away from all the headlights and streetlamps, away from all the noise and pollution of the city, you could see everything. Every star, every planet, every comet. That's always been my favorite part of camping, gazing out at the night sky, which is why I failed to notice how far out I had gotten from the igloo until I was already actively shivering.”
“How far from the igloo did you get, exactly?”
"It's hard to say, I had completely lost track of time as I gazed out on the night sky... I panicked for a second when I realized this, before remembering that I had been watching the stars as I walked, and could use them to guide my way back. However, after some time of walking, I realized that I wasn’t passing anything. All I could see in all directions was just snow. No trees, no rocks, not even the side of the mountain. By this point, panic was starting to set in as thoroughly as the cold was. I could almost feel the icy grip of fatigue dragging me back, slowing me down. I could hear its whispers in the wind, begging me to stop and lay down in the pillowy soft snow. I knew that if I did, I would certainly die. That's when my torch illuminated them: the two shadowy figures approaching me. I would have sprinted to them if I could, but all I could do was continue pushing my way through the snow until they reached me. One figure turned out to be a woman with black matted hair, a fox fur on her shoulders, and a stained white dress. She had bits of thorny vines tangled into her hair and dress, and digging into her arms, although she didn’t seem to notice. The other was a small child with a light blue dress and pigtails. The dress had a shining snowflake design on the front, with a fractling pattern expanding from it and covering the dress in a shimmering icy film. She had a puffy jacket and beanie but was so small that the snow nearly buried her. Neither of them were wearing nearly enough layers to possibly survive the cold. The woman spoke in a calm voice that seemed to effortlessly cut through the sound of the wind. 'Hello. I'm Eira. This is Emberly. Are you lost?' I was taken aback by the calmness of the woman, but quickly replied, confirming that I was lost. She simply looked at Emberly and smiled, before turning back to me and saying 'Don't worry. Your journey will soon be at an end.' She was clearly trying to be reassuring when she softened her voice, but the coldness of it made a deep sense of fear settle in my stomach. Emberly picked that moment to smile at me. I couldn't make out anything wrong with her smile in the darkness, other than the fact that it did not look human. I began to back away, but Eria advanced, reaching out a frostbitten hand as I did. 'Don't worry,' She said in that sickeningly sweet tone, 'you'll finally get to rest.'…I don't know why, but that was what made me snap. In a moment of sheer panic, I punched Eria in the face, and she stumbled back into the snow. Then, I started to run. I didn't look back. Not when I heard Eira calling out to me. Not even when I heard a flapping noise behind me. Then, I tripped and fell into the slow, turning over just in time to see a shadowy thing flying towards me. It carried Eria in its owl-like talons, and flew through the air with its feathered wings, but its body looked like that of a malnourished horse, with leathery black skin. Its head was composed of a deer skull, with a soft glow reflecting out of its eye sockets. What caught my attention most of all, however, was the shiny ice crystals covering its leathery skin. They all converged into a single point at its chest, just like Emberly's dress. As it rapidly approached, my hand gripped something long and hard buried in the snow, and without a second thought, I brought it up and pointed the end straight at the thing's chest. I still remember the horrible cracking noise that erupted from its chest as the broken tree branch I had been holding pierced right through the snowflake pattern. It dropped Eria and let out a deafening screech. I had just barely scrambled to my feet when the thing swung its feathered arm down and dug its talons into my shoulder... Have you ever been out in the cold for so long that your hands go numb?” Jonathan thought for a moment, not expecting to be asked a question in the middle of a statement.
“I can't say that I have.”
"Huh, lucky you. That's the closest thing I can think of to describe the pain I felt in my shoulder. Only instead of happening over the course of two hours, it happened over the course of two seconds as the ice crystals dug into my shoulder, reaching through the skin, fat, and muscle all the way to the bone. Then, I couldn't feel anything at all. That was almost worse. The scream that I made was what alerted my friends as to where I was. Thankfully, they had already been out searching for me. I don't remember what happened next, but according to Lilly, she found me unconscious in the snow, my shoulder ripped up like it had been made out of paper mache. Emma ran down the mountain and called an ambulance while Sam and Lilly carried me back to the igloo. Next thing I knew, I was at the hospital. Apparently, I would have certainly bleed to death if it weren't for the fact that the blood froze into my veins, effectively cauterizing the wound." Brian started taking a folder out of their bag, seemingly struggling to get it out without moving their shoulder too much. "..I have photos, although some are a bit gruesome.” Jonathan was clearly uneasy as he leaned back in his seat slightly and hesitantly said,
“Sure.”Brian finally got the folder out and took out a printed photo of a hand with blood dripping from it. The photo was blurry, but clearly of a different person's hand.
“This is a photo of one of my friend's hand after they cut it while cooking. The wound healed quickly and with no issues.” Jonathan looked both confused and irritated.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“To prepare you for the next photos…” Brian then handed Jonathan three printed out photos of a gruesomely torn up shoulder. The skin of the shoulder was blackened by frostbite and covered in a shining layer of ice crystals. The photos were sickeningly clear and detailed.
“These were taken by the paramedics…”Jonathan swallowed hard as he struggled to keep a professional demeanor.
“Bloody hell…”
"Yeah... You should have heard it. Sam says it made cracking noises every time they moved my arm at all.” Jonathan looked at Brian with a mixture of disgust and concern.
“How on earth did you survive this?”
"It was entirely my friends. They were all trained in first aid because of the Scouting Association. They were the ones who took me to the igloo, called an ambulance, patched up the wound, and kept me warm.”
"It's a good thing they did all that then," he said, still a bit shocked at what he'd just been shown.
"It's frankly amazing you're even able to move your arm at all after that.”
"Yeah, physical therapy is a wonderful thing... Look, I don't know exactly what happened up there, but I'm assuming it was some combination of fatigue, hypothermia, and a falling tree branch... I just... I heard y'all look into this sort of stuff and I guess I need some assurance that it wasn't... real.”
“You're trying to tell me that,” Jonathan pointed at the photo, “This was caused by a falling tree branch?”
"Well the alternative is- I'm sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't come here and argue about the probability of it." Brian said before starting to get up. "Is that all you need?”
"For now, yes," Jonathan said. He glanced at the photos a moment before looking back up. "...But I would like to ask you one thing before you leave, if you don't mind.”
“Yes?”
“Why did you go out in the first place? I understand that you wanted to look at the stars, but it hardly seems safe.”
“It wasn't the first time I had gone out alone on trips… At night…” Jonathan looked doubtful and concerned.
"You went out on late night walks while camping, alone, on previous trips? And your friends knew of this, correct?”
“Yeah. I've been camping since I was twelve. I knew what I was doing… to a point…” Jonathan shook his head.
"It sounds like you didn't know what you were doing at all. Going out in the middle of the night, in the winter, while camping alone is foolish and dangerous. You do realize that, right?” Brian looked as though they were going to answer the question, before they changed their mind and sighed heavily.
“I'm sorry, I don't think I ever caught your name.” He took a moment to realize he'd been so wrapped up in this questioning, that he'd neglected to even introduce himself.
"I apologize, I should have introduced myself before..." He stood and held out his hand to Brian. "Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist at the Magnus Institute.” Brian shook his hand before picking up their messenger bag.
"Nice to meet you Jonathan. Have a lovely day.” Brian then left, leaving Jonathan alone in the room, which felt slightly colder than before.
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